#yes this is relevant to my latest fic chapter

[abarero]

Have you ever heard a Spiritomb giggle? Well, now you have.

[shiny-jr]

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH I literally cannot put into words how much I loved the latest Damnation au chapter- I was literally seconds away from putting my phone down to get back to work but as soon as I saw a glimpse of the fic, I just couldn't help but put everything on hold

I was really impressed with how you included Epel into the story in a way that just about correlated to Epel in canon (like how he was actively opposed to hit position in the castle). Like taking into consideration of the time period and the possible reasons why Epel would be relevant there in the first place despite not being in the original tale- SO WELL DONE!! Not to mention Vil going out of his way to find potential successors really emphasizes his hatred for Neige (poor guy😭) Also the way you write about Rook??? I knew he'd be creepy but gyat damn your writing only increased the feeling of it ten-fold. Especially in that scene after he climbed through the window and interrupted MC and Vil- Literally foaming at the mouth i was like 'holy crap this is it, we're gonna get exposed' cause aint no way Rook WOULDN'T know. Everything about him was unnerving yet so charming?? I really don't know how you do it but the way you just write them is just so accurate👏

As a Vil simp, every scene with him in it had be giggling and kicking my feet✨ I was pleasantly surprised with his advances towards the MC though- like hubba hubba... I ain't complaining though! The tension in those scenes were just *chefs kiss* Every moment with him just oozed authority and power, like I'd be on the edge of my metaphorical seat just waiting for the moment he calls out the MC

Like holy crap you really know how to set your scenes- like legit every time I Rook or Vil were in a scene, it genuinely felt tense. Also props to MC for looking out for #1 (themselves) even at the expense of ruining someone else

Anyway excuse my rambling lmao i'm definitely gonna be re-reading it again ^^

Sounds like another happy reader. And yes, Epel's part was difficult. Mainly because, well, Epel is based off the poisoned apple, so how is he supposed to play that role? In my mind, the poisoned apple is a tool used by the Evil Queen. So, what is similar to a tool? A person to manipulate, which is how I came up with the idea of heir. Combined with the fact that Vil obviously takes a shine to Epel, as he spends time meticulously perfecting his habits and mannerisms in-game. Which fit the scenario I was to use, of a King claiming an heir and drilling instructions and behaviors in their mind to manipulate.

Rook and Vil were easy to place into roles, due to who they're based off of. But it was difficult coming up with scenes for them, since the Huntsman and Evil Queen don't have a lot in the movies. Especially the Huntsman.

For Rook, I actually considered writing a scene were MC followed him as he scoped out the meadow or the moment when Rook was to escort Neige to the meadow, but ultimately I decided against that as it would overcomplicate the plot and give more time to Neige instead of Rook. I needed a way to properly portray Rook's watchfulness and the unease it spawns, which I figured should fit the setting. A carefully worded conversation knit of lies and unsaid threats and fears is much more effective when the reader is picturing hollowed stone halls of a palace instead of a colorful meadow. At least, that was my thought process there, which is why most interactions with Rook are in settings such as those.

And finally, Vil, who I decided to write a few more interesting scenes for purely because I know a good amount of my followers love that pretty man. There were multiple concepts and scrapped ideas I've already forgotten by now, different things that never made it to my keyboard, like a tense dinner scene and back-and-forth bickering. But some of those just didn't fit the feeling I wanted, or was out of character for either the MC or others.

Anyways, now I'm rambling. Sorry. I hope the second read was just as enjoyable as the first!

[madarasgirl]

Today's episode was incredibly good! To be honest, fanfics with more than 3 chapters always made me boring so I only read oneshots or headcanons of my favorite characters.... until months ago I found your serie on AO3, I had never read such a good fanfic, from the first chapter of your series completely hooked me, I always wait for it to be updated and every time you upload a chapter I am going to read it quickly, your work is incredible!

hellsing ultimate is my favorite anime it just has everything I'm obsessed with, Sexy fucking vampires? of course, issues of religion and specifically Catholicism? That's right, some completely deranged Nazis? fuck yeah, I love that your fanfic does not soften all those interesting themes that the anime itself has, I hope I can reach the end of this incredible series, by the way you said that you studied the themes of the Second World War for almost an hour, what do you think about it? So do you find it interesting or are you just studying it for the series? Sorry for sending this question with so much text, I got too excited!

Omg omg! Sorry for the late reply. I had to sit on this ask for a few days to figure out how to respond to such a heartfelt love letter 💖. Thank you for these kind words. You would never know how much the encouragement helps 🥰. You might have made my entire week! I umm...love being asked about my writing. It's kind of an embarrassing confession. *virtual hugs and kisses*

I am so glad you're enjoying this story! Nothing makes me happier than to know that I was partially responsible for changing someone's mind on something! As much as I enjoy headcanons and shorts too, imo nothing is quite as satisfying as sticking with a character through their trials and tribulations in a long fic and getting immersed in their journey ^^

Yes Hellsing Ultimate has many of the things I enjoy in a show too! I love when shows don't shirk from the darker aspects of the world and now that Alucard and his Reader have a good foundational relationship, I think it's time to remind the audience of what Hellsing is about. Didn't want to sugarcoat how messed up the world and its characters really are. I am glad you don't think I botched the delivery.

The last time I actually studied WWII was in high school, so well over a decade ago. That was through the lens of the Allied victors and I only remember so much of the details. I think many things about that period, but the strongest feeling is how utterly dismal war is, how much needless suffering it causes.

For the latest chapter (Ch. 20), the vast majority of time researching was spent on finding certain details on Nazi units and which ones were responsible for certain actions as I was trying to decide on the next setting for this arc, the location of one of Millennium's bases. This one isn't in Brazil. This story is only canon-related, not canon-compliant. Here was some stuff going on in my head in the background for this fic. It was probably excessive, but I wanted a place that is: - postcard beautiful - isolated, but not too much so (or the logistics of resupplying themselves would be difficult) - an island (easier for the local authorities to pass strange phenomena off as freak incidences when pressured by Millennium) -lots of wilderness, for the isolation, but also training purposes - lots of caves/hidden ways for escape -the site of a Nazi massacre, so relevance to Nazis -sort of on the way in Dracula's historic seafaring route through the Mediterranean to England

Then I spent some time trying to figure out the logistics of zeppelin and ship travel from this place to others, whether this place has any other features, mythological history and/or appearances in popular culture that are interesting. I spent time reading about the local population and regional politics of that time for my interest.

In the end, there were a few islands I was trying to choose between, none of them were perfect. The biggest issue was that it was the Wehrmacht branch of the Nazis that were responsible for the atrocities and not the Waffen SS, but I was already at my wits' end trying to spin the story in a way that'll work and would rather start writing. I think it should work out though.

I'm no expert on anything historical. I hope I don't disappoint! It's nerve-wracking now that we're onto canon events! 😱 Don't apologize, I love your excitement and interest in this fic!!!! 🤩🤩🤩😘

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 52: The Road to Crestwood

Summary: Rose and her companions journey the rest of the way to Crestwood. On the way they encounter evidence of widespread lawlessness and Rose gets to know the man behind the Champion better.

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke. Excerpt Below:

Cassandra and I gamely take the room with one double bed at the inn, knowing that neither of us snore. Sera had offered to share with Vivienne which prompted a clipped little exchange that entertained anyone near. “And be forced to bask in whatever that odor of yours is? I don’t think so,” says the enchantress. “I was joking you prissy bint. You’d snuff me with a pillow probably.” “On that we can both agree.” Truthfully, I’m grateful for the privacy of solid walls for a change as Cassandra and I haven’t been able to discuss the latest installment of Swords and Shields she loaned me and I have so many questions. Our room is cramped, lit by oil lamps on either side of the bed. We crawl under the quilt, threadbare at the edges of the patchwork and then draw up the fur over our feet. I hand her her well-worn copy, my smirk unmanageable. “The plot certainly thickened in this one,” I remark. “If by ‘plot thickened’ you mean they finally—“ she starts. “—did the deed?” I finish. “Yes,” she says, flushing. “I had been waiting for that for years!” “Well, I’m glad I’ve been able to binge it all in one go!” “What I never understood about this issue…That part when the guardsman—“ Cassandra clears her throat. “When the knight-captain and the guardsman—“ She can’t bring herself to say it. “When he uses his tongue on her?” I finish, having fewer scruples than Cassandra on such matters. “I just find it unlikely that she would react in that way!” “It does seem a bit far fetched.” “You have seen the mouths on some of these men!” “I know!” “It is probably overstated. For dramatic effect.” “It’s Varric. Almost certainly.”

Read the rest here Start from the beginning

And since this chapter features a whole bunch of my custom Hawke I'll throw some of my DA2 screencaps of him for good measure 😏 My husband calls him "fuckboy Hawke" LMAO. Give him longer hair tied in a tiny baby ponytail and that's the current look in my fic.

Bethany and Carver both survive in this worldstate

DAFF Tag list

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @mogwaei | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie

[brynnmclean]

💬 and ❤️ for the meme!

Hi there, Elizabeth! :D

For the 💬 and because I'm trying to work on it this afternoon, I'll go with my current Hellblade WIP that'll be titled in the core of everything drums a beat. This is something I built out this week and I'm especially happy with Eindrid's dialogue now. To give you a little context, the main male character of Hellblade II has a very prominent and complicated relationship with his father, a very toxic leader in the community-- and unfortunately as with most media, Thórgestr's mother is never mentioned or seen at all. I didn't like that, so I've added her ghost (imo, it feels like she has to have been long dead to be so absent? Just the feeling I have) into my fic. The scene I'm working on right now is of a dream Thórgestr has where he gets to speak with her after his father has been declared an outlaw.

Remember that you are more than your father’s son, his mother tells him, reaching up—she is small now, dwarfing him in this breathless moment where he is a haunted man and not a careless boy. She pulls his head down to rest his forehead to hers. You are Áleifrson, and you are my son. He breathes in the scent of her, another thing he had lost to time, woodsmoke, fresh-turned earth, and wildflower blooms. She loved flowers. He used to bring fistfuls of them to her in spring. He had forgotten, had locked away all memories of her. His father had said only the weak grieve overlong. And Thórgestr knew what the Goði thought of the weak. I’m sorry, he whispers. I forgot you. Mother, I’m sorry. Eindridson, she croons and he makes a small, wounded sound into the little space between them. I never left your heart. You are only looking back at me now, away from the shadow cast by Áleifr. Father is gone, he tells her, choking on the words, though she must already know, if she has indeed haunted his steps. The Björg cast him out. Yes, she says, voice soft but deepening, suddenly wholly unfamiliar and foreboding, a voice from beyond. Áleifr will wander, empty-handed and ice-hearted. Fresh snow will be his grave after ravens pick his bones clean and gleaming in the long night. And you, my son, will learn who you are without him.

For the ❤️, I'll pull from your latest chapter of per ardua ad astra:

“Han talks a big show,” Luke said, voice rising, “but he’s been there every step of the way.” “I’m sure he has,” said Leia grimly. “For you.” “He did rescue us,” Cassian pointed out, but his tone was so flat that Jyn knew better than to trust it. After a pause that she couldn’t read, Leia said, “Oh, of course you’d say that. And now I bet you’re going to tell me that gratitude is the appropriate response to our noble rescue, or something like that.” “Then you’d lose your wager,” said Cassian. One of them cleared their throat. “Um, I—” After a moment’s consideration, Jyn ducked into the nearest compartment, hoping she’d go unnoticed. But she cautiously left the door a little ajar, partly for convenience, and partly in order to hear anything that might be relevant to her interests. “Really?” Leia said, still scornful. “No lectures for me this time?” “No.” At this point, Jyn had heard him drop from even composure to some emotion or another plenty of times. But nothing in his mouth had ever sounded harsher than that single word. She stiffened.  A heavy silence fell. Perhaps the three exchanged meaningful looks of some kind, or made themselves understood in stance and gestures. Perhaps they had no words. But Cassian always had words. “Solo was haggling over bribes after Alderaan burned,” he said coldly. “We owe him nothing.”

It's a big section, but I love how SHARP Cassian is in it. I also love the reminder that Cassian is Alderaanian in this fic, if I remember correctly. Of COURSE he'd be scornful of Solo with this context. In any case, the dialogue here between Luke, Leia, and Cassian is excellent-- I hear their voices so clearly when you write them. It's great!!!

Thank you for asking, my friend! :)

[ask me about fic quotes!]

[lokislytherin]

do you think ptj will do jaeyeol/jay’s character any justice? 🥲 i’ve read so many comments on reddit saying that ptj will just throw jay away because he’s served his purpose (attracting a large enough fanbase through queer-baiting) because jay’s potential to be a great character is just going down the drain (he’s the son of steve hong, he should he able to step in and help right? also big daniel is kidnapped and jay used to have such a strong “daniel is in trouble i gotta go help him” sensor so where tf is he?)

okay, but excluding all that, i think jay should be developed further as a character because he has so much potential that’s being wasted so far. i really hope ptj hasn’t forgotten about him and pulls an eli jang arc for jay because he’s super interesting to me, like i wanna know why he doesn’t talk, why he isn’t acknowledged by his family (?), where tf is he when all this is going down, what does he do in his free time, what are his likes (besides daniel lol)??? i just want to know more about him as a person IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK PTJ???

ahem, sorry for the rant, i just caught up to the latest chapter and i am FUMING because the last time we saw jay was in chapter 300+ and he wasn’t even that prominent in the chapter? i just miss when all we had to care about was daniel having to hide his 2 bodies from people, crystal being a snoop, jay and joy fighting over the same man, zack and mira’s relationship, zoe’s inner conflict not knowing she likes the very same person, etc. like what’s with all these new characters i do not give a single shit about? i loved the hostel chapters though but once they got to the worker’s arc, man…. pls just bring the original cast back.. this story is getting too much man..

so what do you think? 😅🥲

hello anon, thank you for the ask! hoo boy this is a big one so imma break it down into bitesized chunks if you don't mind

jay as the queerbait character: honestly i see where those redditors are coming from? insert a hot male character with a good, interesting dynamic with the mc who is also male, and you have the interest of women and queers! even if we don't count me being a jaeseok ship fic writer, i still really enjoy the dynamic they have, the only one that comes close for me is vasco and jace but to me jay's queer energy is too strong to see them as solid bros yk. as a queer who is horrible in social situations i kinda see myself in jay sometimes and it's really nice to have that TT

jay's potential as a character: anon you're so right. jay is the son of steve hong and honestly he could have a much bigger role to play not only as a character who can fight (because hello?? maybe jay's not the best in a dirty street fight but systema and kali are deadly in their own right) but also as a Plot Relevant Character? i've probably mentioned this before in other posts but he reminds me of khun maria agnis from tower of god: both were shown in early chapters and had a decently big impact on at least one of the main characters, both have long bangs and eyes that have not been seen in 300+ chapters, neither character has been seen in 200+ chapters i swear to god. maybe i'm on copium but i still believe that this is bc they're preparing for their comeback as an insanely OP character

more on jay's potential: dear ptj, where is jay's 1) backstory 2) CURRENT SELF. WHERE TF IS HE. as i've said before my predictions are 1) med school so he can be the 'call an ambulance! but not for me! oh wait i am the first aid' guy 2) preparing for his OP character arc

I MISS EARLY LOOKISM CHAPTERS TOO ANON. WHEN ARE ZACK AND MIRA GOING TO GET TOGETHER FOR REAL. LIKE WHERE'S DANIEL'S MOM. unless daniel went 'i'm going to get myself into a shitload of trouble do you mind looking after my mom for me in case things go wrong 🥺' and jay said yes at the cost of his canon appearances bc he's whipped. pathetic gay little man (affectionate)

i hope that answered things? i feel like you sent me a rant and i just ranted back with more speculations and headcanons LMAO

anyway join me let's hold hands and start a prayer circle for hong 'jay' jaeyeol's reappearance in canon anybody who misses jay is more than welcome to join bc i'm p sure jay's fandom is almost as big as samuel seo's tiddies and they're pretty damn massive, so ptj's bound to notice us and bring jay back as an Important Character... right...?

btw i'm not caught up with the manhwa oops. i'm only up to ep 394 but i'm speedrunning the latest chapters and my urge to punch eugene increases every chapter.

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Asking because your blog has been sympathetic to non-Feanorian apologists, you’re a great & thoughtful writer, and there’s no neutral space to express it otherwise... every fic with Thingol in Fourth Age Valinor has him punished & humiliated to teach him the value of redemption. But Thingol already has a redemption arc. He did something wrong, suffered personally for being wrong, then tried to redress it (fosters Túrin to make up for Beren & Lúthien). Why is Feanorian redemption more important?

I struggled with this in the latest chapter of my fic. My intent wasn’t about him being punished or humiliated, and I included the chapter with Legolas and Gimli to show that he has changed and grown. But dealing with Maglor specifically (or any of the sons of Fëanor) being back is especially difficult/frustrating for him and he finds it deeply unfair. He’s not wrong! It is unfair. Mercy is inherently unfair.

Yes, Thingol has already had a redemption arc, and that matters to me. But when people are under a lot of strain, there’s always a temptation to revert to their worse instincts. The events in this chapter felt, to me, like something Thingol would realistically do. He was resisting the urge to take out his anger about Maglor’s return on Elrond, who requested it, or Legolas and Gimli, who facilitated it, but he felt he had a perfect right to take it out on Maglor himself. (And he’s right, to an extent! As Elrond said, if he’d pulled Maglor into to yell at him, he’d have a right to that. The issue was intent, that he didn’t just want to confront Maglor with the harm he’d caused, he wanted him dead. I feel like it’s also relevant to say that no one who had been through the Halls would have been in danger of dying in that situation - they don’t Return until they’re ready to confront those things. But Maglor has spent seven thousand years confronting nothing, which puts him in an unusual situation and a still fairly breakable psychological/spiritual state.)

The second reason I brought it up, something I couldn’t find a way to include in the chapter, but that matters to me a lot, is that you don’t get to accept mercy yourself - which Thingol has, he’s returned from the Halls of Mandos despite making some very serious mistakes and dying in a particularly stupid way - and then decide that other people don’t get to recieve it. Thingol can have improved from the person he was in Beleriand while still being a person with flaws.

But, at the end of the day, the construction of this chapter was about Maglor’s arc. I’ve had the fic outlined for a long time, and I’m very much ‘plotter’ rather than ‘pantser’ - I don’t know how to make major changes in the middle of a fic and have the stuff that follows still work. And I like the stuff that follows. So I went ahead with this chapter even with reservations, because I needed something to push Maglor to the brink (and because I liked Elrond’s speech, and the fundamental idea that there is value and worth and the capacity to contribute good even in people who have done very wrong there.) Fëanorean redemption isn’t more important than Thingol’s redemption (I’ve got a fuc idea for a conversation between Thingol and Finrod after Thingol returns from Mandos that I quite like, but I haven’t been able to get it down on paper), but Maglor’s redemption/reconciliation arc is the focus of this fic. And I understand that there are already thousands of fics about that and very few synoathetic ones about Thingol, which is frustrating!

So, given the kind of complaints I’ve been making frequently on my blog over the last few weeks and even yesterday, I did feel hypocritical about writing it, and if it didn’t connect, I get it. I hope you’ll be able to look past it and keep reading. If it helps, the only actualy consequences to Thingol from this are his great-great-grandson being mad at him for a while; it’s no longer central to this fic, but I have every expectation he and Elrond will patch things up in time.

[theminecraftbee]

Pearl in the latest chapter of your fic is so unhinged and I love it. I love the casual reveal that she's just carrying around a handgun and threatening people. Did you take inspiration from Double Life Pearl when writing her? Very similar manic and foreboding vibes

yes! but not just double life, i think double life was still happening or hadn't happened yet when i planned a lot of this initially? it's just that pearl is a little unhinged on hermitcraft too and like, i wanted to capture those vibes. so the unhinged vibes are there. as is a lot of other stuff.

anyway i think this is the first time that my favorite beta note domik gave me has become clearly relevant! it will not stop being relevant:

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (08)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Series: CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9

warnings: unrealistic court happenings i am not a lawyer ok mention of physical abuse, drinking problems, child trauma, mental illness, and infidelity. I want to build a whole new world in this fic that’s why i also didn’t research about divorce trials I’m sorry. OC is kind of annoying/disappointing in this chapter (?) or not (?) Young Choi Soobin of TXT is the kid in this chapter’s moodboard

Jeongguk was the ex-boyfriend Red was talking about.

You figured this out when you were at Seokjin's party. Frankly, the way your soulmate was looking at Red was already a giveaway, but then you had to confirm it yourself.

The only way to do that was to either confront Jeongguk or your assistant.

You chose neither and it was because you were afraid to hear what they would or wouldn't say. This being said, you resorted to your last option.

"Come on..." It was hard to sit on the floor when you're wearing a damn long dress, but this didn't stop you from rummaging through Red's personal things.

It's the middle of the night. You left Jeongguk at your apartment right after he reached his high.

You just wanted to teach him a lesson for being a brat. He was always so rude to you and you honestly thought that he was just in denial—that soon enough, he would realize that you two were really destined to be together.

Apparently, that wasn't going to happen.

You went to your office at one in the morning just to find something that would verify your speculation. You got what you wanted. The photograph of Jeongguk kissing your assistant confirmed it.

Your tears fell.

You didn't know why you felt betrayed. It wasn't like they wanted this. They hadn't done anything wrong. Fate was just cruel. Why didn't you meet Jeongguk first? You couldn't blame him for falling in love with Red—she was sweet, beautiful, and smart. Anyone would definitely like her, so you had no choice but to swallow the lump in your throat and accept this.

You just had to pretend like everything was alright.

It wasn't.

The divorce trial was near and there were still so many things you had to fix. Work was seriously draining the hell out of you and it wasn't like Jeongguk was helping. He was actually adding up to the stress you were feeling.

Jeongguk was giving you the silent treatment and no—it wasn't the type of silence you were used to. Before Seokjin's party, your soulmate was quiet, but not really. He would occasionally huff to let you know that he was annoyed at you. He would also stamp his feet and slam the door just to spite you.

You didn't mind. You knew he was just being a brat; however, things were different now.

After the night of Seokjin's party, Jeongguk changed. He was eerily silent, always avoiding eye contact with you.

You tried talking to him. Regrettably, you were only greeted by stillness.

"You want pizza, Gukkie?"

Nothing.

"Have you watched the latest episode of Start-up?"

Still nothing.

"Did you have a good sleep?"

Nope. Nothing. Nada.

"Wanna make out on the couch?"

Jeongguk's head jolted to your direction. His eyes were wide, cheeks turning crimson because of your bold statement.

"Hey!" You giggled, clearly happy with his reaction. "You finally looked at me!"

Jeongguk shook his head and then he went straight to his room.

You were unbelievable.

You pouted your lips, giving up. You had a feeling that he would come around.

He did. Days later, Jeongguk surprised you when he stood right in front of the door of your apartment. He was blocking your way out.

"Gukkie, I'm going to be late." You sighed. He reminded you of Miri, your cat that's always trying to stop you from leaving.

"You can't leave." His jaw clenched.

You let out a breath once again.

"Don't do this please. Mr. Kim needs me,"

The trial was happening today. You needed to run down a few things with your client before you go to the court room.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jeongguk folded his arms over his chest.

You stared at him.

"I don't get what?" It was hard to keep your composure when the thing you had been trying to avoid for so long was being rubbed in your face. You knew exactly what Jeongguk was implying.

"—that you want me to drop this case because you want Red all to yourself?"

Jeongguk froze. What was the point of staying silent when you always knew what was running inside his head?

You just always knew.

"You don't have to pretend that you care about Soobin's well-being. I have enough people doing just that," you slightly pushed Jeongguk to the side so that you could pass through the door.

Ah, people.

They're all the same, always trying to conceal their self-interest by pretending that they care for others.

You liked Jeongguk—actually; you were convinced you loved him. He was your soulmate after all, but sometimes love wasn't enough to just give into what he wanted.

This wasn't about your relationship. This was about Soobin's welfare. He's just a child. You were a lawyer who swore an oath to protect the oppressed and incapable. You were their voice.

It sounded cheesy, but this was the type of person you aspired to be. The world was already dark, it wouldn't hurt to be someone's light.

Jeongguk didn't understand your reasons. It was evident when he showed up in court to watch you defend Kim Seokjin.

At first, you thought your eyes were failing you. Was he really here? Was he really the man at the back of the room wearing that big hoodie?

It was him. The familiar scowl on his face said so. Jeongguk was the only person who looked at you like you had offended his whole family.

"All rise!"

You turned to your client upon hearing the bailiff's demand.

"It's going to be alright," assured by you.

Seokjin smiled. He was looking at Red instead of you. He needed the comfort of his soulmate.

Red grinned back. She wasn't worried. She trusted you. She was certain you would succeed. Soobin wasn't going to be taken away from his father.

The first few minutes of the trial went smooth. You had your story straight and with the way the judge was nodding; you instantly knew she was in favor of your side.

Unfortunately, things started to go ugly during the cross-examination of witnesses.

Jung Hoseok was the first one to take the stand. He was the expert witness.

"You are the marriage counselor of Mr. and Mrs. Kim for months now, right?"

"Yes." Hoseok answered the opposing counsel. It was weird seeing him this serious. Your friend was always grinning, but you told him to try to keep a neutral face. This way, the judge and the jury wouldn't know if he was caught off guard by the question of the other side's attorney.

"Mr. Jung, is it true that marriage counselors rarely suggest divorce to their clients?"

"Depends—" Hoseok bit his tongue. You told him to simply answer yes or no. Be responsive to the question and never explain. "I mean, yes."

"And yet here we are..." Ms. Choi, the opposing attorney, shrugged her shoulders.

"Objection!" You stood up. "Relevance?"

You didn't understand why Ms. Choi asked that question to Hoseok when she's just shrugging it off now.

"Sustained." The judge felt the same way.

Ms. Choi raised her hand as if surrendering.

"My bad. I'm just curious, you know? If Mr. Jung is indeed an effective counselor, then why did he suggest that the Kim couple push through the divorce?"

Ms. Choi was furrowing her brow at Hoseok.

"Isn't that true, Counselor Jung? You told Mrs. Kim that it's better to end her marriage with Mr. Kim?"

"Yes." The expert witness answered truthfully.

The opposing side's attorney smiled mockingly.

"It's because you feared for Mrs. Kim's safety, right?"

"What?" Jung Hoseok was lost.

"Come on, Mr. Jung you know exactly what I am talking about! You found out that Mr. Kim is an alcoholic and you are scared that he might harm Mrs. Kim and Soobin, right?" Ms. Choi pointed at the five year old kid who was busy coloring books in the far corner of the room. He was with Seokjin's mother.

"Objection, Your Honor! Compound question!" You glared at Ms. Choi.

"Sustained." The judge clenched her jaw. "Ms. Choi, separate your questions. You are misleading the jury..."

Ms. Choi was flustered, yet she still held her head high. She knew she had the upper hand here.

"Is Mr. Kim alcoholic, Mr. Jung?" She tried again.

Hoseok cleared his throat.

"He had a history of abusing alcohol years ago."

"And you know this because you're also a licensed alcohol and drug counselor, correct?"

"Yes..."

"And Mr. Kim Seokjin also told you about his issue with regard to alcohol abuse?"

"Yes." Hoseok swallowed hard.

There were papers that could attest to Hoseok's claim. This was a win for Mrs. Kim. You could see her growing sarcastic smile that was directed at Red.

You inhaled deeply.

"Mr. Jung, can you please tell us the rate of patients going through alcohol relapse?"

"Uh, it's sixty to ninety percent after the first year of treatment," answered by Hoseok.

"I see. How long has it been since Mr. Kim sobered up?"

"As far as I know, it has been three years."

"Huh." Ms. Choi crossed her arms. "So is there a possibility that Mr. Kim would experience an alcohol relapse?"

"Yes."

"What's the statistical probability, Mr. Jung?"

"About fifty percent high." Hoseok looked dejected. He wanted to help Seokjin win the case, but he couldn't lie.

"I see." Ms. Choi was smiling as if she had already won the case.

"Can you tell us now the effects of experiencing an alcohol relapse? Or a slip?"

Hoseok's palms were sweating. Slip was one episode of drinking alcohol after trying to stay sober. Relapse, on the other hand, was the return to unhealthy behavior. Slip wasn't always followed by a relapse.

Hoseok also explained that there were different stages of relapse. Emotional relapse could cause suppression of emotions, becoming more isolated, trying to blame other people, and aggression, especially when they were confronted. There's also mental and physical relapse which included glamorizing alcohol and compulsive desires to drink.

"No further questions, Your Honor." The corner of Ms. Choi's mouth turned up upon realizing that the jury was in favor of their side now.

You had to step up your game.

The next witness was Son Chae-young. She was Soobin's babysitter. Chae-young had been living with the Kims ever since Soobin was born. She's a witness testifying against Seokjin.

Chae-young cleared her throat when your eyes landed on her. She already felt uncomfortable because of the way you were looking at her.

The way you stand up—shoulder down, neck long—was intimidating.

"You have a really nice necklace, Ms. Son."

Chae-young flinched upon hearing your compliment. She was confused. Mrs. Kim and Attorney Choi told her that you were scary, this was evident by the way you present yourself, but then...the way your eyes light up made her feel at ease. Your voice was soft too.

"Ah...thanks," regardless of your sweet persona, Chae-young still couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Why were you looking at her as if she was important? As if you were here to protect and not cross-examine her?

"Is it from Cartier?"

"Yes!" The babysitter beamed at you as she touched her pretty jewelry.

You smiled warmly at her.

"Did you buy it yourself?"

"Objection! Relevance?" The opposing lawyer clenched her fist. She was shaking, causing you to smile bigger. Guess she knew what was coming to her, huh?

"I'm getting there, Your Honor," said by you. Your expression screamed confidence that the judge was compelled to believe you.

"Overruled."

You continued.

"So...Ms. Son, did you buy that necklace? Or is it a gift?"

"Uh..." Chae-young's lips trembled. She was looking at Mrs. Kim, as if she was asking for her boss' help. "I-I bought it for myself..."

"I see." You nodded. Humoring her. "Do you have any other job aside from babysitting Kim Soobin?"

The nanny shook her head.

"N-No. I'm a full-time nanny of Mrs. Kim's son." Chae-young's lips were still shaking; her eyes were quivering as well.

"Hm, interesting..." You went closer to the witness. "That means you're earning what? Two hundred fifty dollars a month?"

"Objection, Your Honor! I still can't see the relevance of this!" Ms. Choi was losing her mind.

You turned to glare at her.

"Can’t you really see the relevance of this or are you just scared?"

You heard the judge's hit the gavel; she was calling your attention.

"Get to the point right now." The judge demanded at you. It was this or your statement was going to be sustained.

"I am merely establishing my point, Your Honor." Your voice was rough. "The necklace Ms. Son is wearing is worth four thousand three hundred dollars. I know because I have the same necklace and it took me, a lawyer, months!" You paused for a while just to emphasize the word months, "to buy it."

You turned to Chae-young when the judge remained silent.

"So tell me, Ms. Son, how can a full-time nanny like you who's earning minimum wage buy that kind of luxurious jewelry? Huh?" You were standing too close to the witness so Attorney Choi used this as an opportunity to object.

"Your Honor, she is badgering the witness!"

"Overruled." But the judge wasn't having any of it. "Answer the question, Ms. Son."

"I'm sorry!" The nanny's face twisted in fear. "Mrs. Kim bought it for me—"

"It's a gift!" Mrs. Kim blurted out, unable to contain her anger anymore. God. She hated you. "I bought it for her last month! It's my birthday gift for her!"

You smirked. Attorney Choi was panicking. She was caressing Mrs. Kim's hand, telling her to calm down.

Sadly, Mrs. Kim could not be stopped.

"Why am I explaining to you when you have no right to question my intention! It's my money so I get to decide what to do with it!"

She was yelling at you and it almost made you laugh. Why was she so defensive?

"May I remind you that you are a married woman, Mrs. Kim? You have to consider your husband's decision when it comes to spending that amount of money." You said this while glancing at the jury.

Base on their expressions, you knew that they agreed with you. This was a win on your side. One of the valid reasons of Seokjin for wanting a divorce was this. Mrs. Kim didn't know how to manage their assets.

You weren't done, though. You had to discredit the witness. You had to win the jury's side in all aspects.

"And you said you bought it last month for Ms. Son's birthday?" You shook your head, focusing your eyes at the nanny.

"Tell us, Ms. Son, when is your birthday?"

Mrs. Kim's face became pale upon hearing your question.

"January seventeen...”

You turned your attention back to Mrs. Kim again.

"Your birthday present is many months late, Mrs. Kim. Either that or you're just lying to hide the fact that you gave Ms. Son the necklace in exchange of testifying against your husband—"

"Objection—"Attorney Choi tried to stop you, but you cut her off too.

"Isn't that right, Ms. Son? You are bribed by your boss to say that you always see Mr. Kim Seokjin drinking alcohol—"

"Your Honor—" The opposing attorney was losing control, her objections were drowning because of how loud your voice was.

"Mrs. Kim wants you to lie! To say that her husband isn't a good father! That he isn't a good influence to Soobin!"

"Yes!"

You stopped trying to pressure Chae-young because it already worked. She admitted the truth.

"Mrs. Kim bribed me!" The babysitter sobbed, looking at you like you were the Lord and she was a sinner.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I-I can't say no, please...please...I need this job!"

"You bitch!" Mrs. Kim abruptly stood up. She wanted to attack you; fortunately the security officers were able to stop her.

The jury was surprised to see Mrs. Kim's violent reaction. You, on the other hand, didn't even flinch.

You were used to this kind of scene. Besides, you couldn't get sidetracked. You still needed to prove your point.

And so you faced the jury.

"Is this the kind of person that you want to raise a sweet, innocent five year-old kid?"

One of the members of the jury clutched her chest. She was affected by what you had said. Truthfully, they were almost decided to grant the sole custody to Mrs. Kim; however, upon seeing the latter's behavior, the jury was having second thoughts now.

"Just look at her!" You pointed at Mrs. Kim who was still seething with rage.

"She constrained an adult! Imagine the bad things she could force Soobin to do! Mrs. Kim is a manipulator!" You raised your voice dramatically.

"My actions are nothing compared to what that asshole is doing!" Mrs. Kim screamed as she angrily pointed at her husband.

She was crying.

Kim Seokjin was quiet. He was shocked by your responses. He didn't expect you to be this bold. You were different from the lawyer he thought he knew.

You didn't have any limit. You didn't know when to stop just to prove a point.

"He's teaching my son that it's okay to be unfaithful to your wife! Jury, please!" Mrs. Kim was desperate. "Don't let him come near my son! He's a drunken bastard!"

The judge was hitting the gavel again. There were too much drama and unnecessary comments from Mrs. Kim.

You shook your head. You couldn't stop now. The jury was undecided. They changed their minds from time to time. You could see sympathy in their eyes as they looked at the wife.

"Mr. Kim Seokjin is sober! You should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Kim! You keep blaming your husband when you're the reason why he turned alcoholic in the first place—"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Attorney Choi glared at you. "The attorney is assuming facts!"

You disagreed before the judge could say sustained.

"Am I?" You smirked at the judge before turning to your table to get your evidence.

Seokjin looked at you nervously.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing," groaned by your client.

You were blinded by your role as a lawyer, so you ignored Seokjin's plea.

"Don't do this..."

Seokjin was already too late.

"I have here the evidence that will prove that Mrs. Kim is the reason why her husband turned alcoholic."

You brought out the printed photos of Seokjin's beaten up face. Bruises, cuts, and other physical injuries were seen.

The jury gasped. Attorney Choi was groaning as she told the judge that these photos were not entered into evidence.

You were playing dirty, but so were they. Ms. Choi told you that they wouldn't bring Mr. Kim's sobriety issue in this court. She lied.

"These pictures are given to me by Mrs. Kim Sunghee, Seokjin's mother." You glanced at your client's mother.

"She knows that her son's wife was assaulting him. Seokjin didn't want to feel his wife's punches so he resorted to drinking the pain away. Mr. Kim just wants to be numb."

"N-No..." Your client's tears streamed down his cheeks. He was calling your name, begging you to stop.

It felt like everyone was begging you to stop; even Sunghee was shaking her head.

It was wrong. This was a mistake. Seokjin's mother realized this when Soobin began to cry. He was silently crying at first, but when the little boy saw the photos in your hand, he started hyperventilating.

"Appa!" Soobin's eyes dilated. He could barely breathe.

Mrs. Kim stood up to attend to her son.

"Soobin!" Mrs. Kim was wailing.

Things were becoming messy.

You didn't understand what was happening, so you just stood there.

"Appa! A-Appa is hurting!" Soobin was losing it; his eyes were rolling in the back of his head.

"Call 911!" Red shouted.

The noise was deafening.

You still didn't get what was happening.

Seokjin went near you.

"I told you not to do it!" He shouted, snatching the photos away from your shaky hands.

"This isn't about me or my wife!" Seokjin continued to scream at you.

You were stunned.

Your client was blaming you.

This is your fault! Seokjin said.

You were wrong. You didn't have to bring out these photos because apparently, Soobin knew.

He witnessed how his mom used to beat up his father.

The poor kid was traumatized.

He had to get some help.

His parents thought he had recovered.

It had been years.

The thing about trauma was, it never went away. It was there—silently sleeping and waiting for that one thing that would trigger it.

You triggered Soobin.

"I-I didn't know..." Your voice was low as you stated your excuse.

No one wanted to hear your lame excuse, not even Jeongguk.

You looked at your soulmate once.

You looked at him desperately.

You looked at him hoping that he would understand—like he would comfort you.

He would never.

Jeongguk had this look in his eyes, the kind of feeling that expressed disappointment.

Jeongguk was disappointed in you.

It was clear because right now, he was shaking his head as if you had done the most horrifying thing in the world.

He shook his head before leaving you all alone.

No one wanted to be with you.

You were a disgrace.

[saessenach]

Hi! For the ask thing, top 5 missmungoe's fics and top 5 One Piece villains?

Love your art!

Hi, nonnie!!

I'm afraid it's been a minute since I've been up to date with One Piece, so both questions will be more or less based around @missmungoe and her incredible, swashbuckling Odyssey-retelling (although let's be real, Odysseus could never) honest-to-god multi-verse Shanties 😊

Top 5 OP Villains

1. Blackbeard (love him, love the parallels to Luffy and Shanks, love his ominous intro and the way he's thematically relevant to a T)

2. Akainu (love to hate him, he is terrible, I hope he gets w r e c k e d, and that whoever takes him down has a marvellous time while at it)

3. That one guy from Film Gold bc he was hella compelling and he had style, but I forget his name. He was extra gaudy and that wins points from me

4. Gold Lion Shiki (I think??? From Strong World, because the last few films have been really good - worldbuilding-wise and narratively speaking, and it's been fun to dip my toes back into the story without having to tackle several hundred chapters)

5. TBH I've only rewatched properly up until Arabasta, so the villains I have Opinions on are Arlong, Croc, Captain Kuro and mayyyybe Rob Lucci and his gang, but I have no idea what's happened with them since, if they've gotten their own arcs like Buggy, or whether we're friends with them or not, so I'll leave it at that.

(An honorary mention to the slavemonger Celestial Dragon from the latest chapter of Mnemosyne, because he was awful, incredibly well-written and made me want to hurl my phone against the wall)

(So now onto the fun part)

Top 5 missmungoe fics

1. Heed the Siren's Call and Sailor's Folly (technically cheating as they are separate stories, yes, but when I reread one, I also immediately reread the other, so imo, it's only fair. Siren was a favourite I first read years ago on ff.net while it was being written, and which I happened across again in 2017 on ao3, and it's never been the same!! When I say it's life-changing literature, I mean it, because how many stories can claim to grow up and change right alongside you? I just have a lot of love for it, and I am this 🤏 close to taking a bookbinding class and having my way with it)

2. Penelope (the amount of times I've read and reread this is truly embarrassing, and that number has more digits than I care to admit - but I am a sucker for weddings which tell tradition to f right off, tiny brides giving voice to their anger at the world and bridegrooms smitten straight out of their ugly ass sandals. This is my comfort read.)

3. Mnemosyne (is the herculean, show-stopping, incredible slow-burn of my dreams and just - wow, it literally takes Oda's worldbuilding and makes it immeasurably richer and better. If for nothing else, then read it for Hancock and her friendship to Makino, for the INTRICACY given to the Amazons, for the way it breathes life into every single place the cast visits, and ties in over-arching themes from canon with details so fucking brilliant, you just sort of stare dumbly at your screen because of course they should be there. There are so many different POVs, and so many intersecting threads that make up this huge-ass tapestry I am continuously in awe of, because it's not just the HEART-ACHE INDUCING marvel of a love story, it's the Red-Hair crew's shenanigans, and the Straw-Hats' incapacity to stay put, it's Rowan's adventure, it's Hancock and her people getting the quality writing they DESERVE, it's the ASL reunion which made me cry, and a found family which spans oceans and realms of existence and everything in-between)

4. Andromeda Unbound (the SWASHBUCKLING UNDERCOVER EXTRAVAGANZA! The one where everyone and their mother separately shows up to crash Shanks' execution, complete with narrow misses, over-the-top banquets, Leverage heist music and so many good reunions. A big, fat and incredibly Extra(tm) middle-finger to propriety and saintly lawful systems, and just, so much fun to read)

5. Time for the ties lol - I still can't believe the Unspeakable 30 year fic and the subsequent AU in which Shanks crashes Makino's wedding are a thing, but I just love that miniseries a lot. Somewhere on this spot are also Moon and Her Maiden (for being ridiculously atmospheric), Bind me to the Tide (uhh, the coolest and also most painful soulmate AU for them, with Makino being very much against her intended, Shanks dealing with period cramps from Hell and just overall being Very Good for my Heart) and, of course Peony and Silver (ROGER. Shakky sweeping Rayleigh off his feet. ROGER. More over-arching themes, as usual. Have I mentioned, perhaps, ROGER? Just to be safe.)

Oh, and an honourable mention for Charybdis as it single-handedly (😌) dragged me out of the biggest art-block I've ever had, and I've rarely cried this much when reading fic.

Hope these answers are satisfying, nonnie!! Thank you for the lovely compliment, and for giving me an opportunity to gush about one of my favourite series ♡

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 16

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

May passes into June and they quietly acknowledge that it has been one year since the day Mulder walked into the autopsy bay. They spend their weekends watching movies, making love, and hanging out with the Gunmen, Missy often in attendance as she and Byers become somewhat of an item. Every other Sunday they have lunch with her mother, Mulder meeting Bill by way of an awkward phone call and a promise that they will come out to visit San Diego sometime soon. The moratorium on weekday overnights fades away and the days they spend in each other’s beds begin to outnumber those that they don’t.

One day in early August, Mulder laments how lonely Priscilla gets when he’s gone for the night, crying and following him from room to room when he comes home and plaguing him with guilt. Scully suggests that he bring her over with him, setting up a litter box and food bowl in an unused corner of the living room. Without the daily need to care for a cat, he spends more and more time at her apartment, his suits taking over half her closet and his T-shirts occupying one of her drawers. He still has his fish to feed and so they can tell themselves that they don’t technically live together, though it’s been weeks since anyone slept at his apartment. The excitement of new love gives way to the familiar comfort of domesticity, questions about their lives prior to meeting morphing into what they’re having for dinner and whether someone can pick up toilet paper on the way home from work. They each visit the doctor for a full workup and, everything coming back clear, stop using condoms, relying on the progestin shot Scully goes in for every three months to prevent pregnancy.

Far from boring, they find worthy sparring partners in one another, debating everything from whether the moon landing was a hoax to the merits of String Theory, arguing their points of view passionately before they agree to disagree and then let their clothes fall to the floor. They discover the things they love best about one another; Mulder’s unrelenting curiosity and Scully’s bottomless compassion, as well as those they like the least; his forgetfulness when he’s focused on something and her tendency to shut him out when she’s upset. Whether completing a crossword puzzle together or watching Jeopardy, they embrace the ways that they are different and how they balance one another out; his creativity to her order, her planning to his impulsivity, his acceptance to her skepticism. Yin and yang, tall and small, bold and tempered; there is a completeness in their union that makes them each feel whole.

Even in their intensity and their commitment, Mulder has never again uttered the words ‘I love you’ and Scully has never said them at all. Far from a red flag or a hesitance to be vulnerable, they simply don’t feel the need to express it aloud. She knows he loves her when he drives forty minutes out of his way to pick up her favorite donuts or reads the latest issue of JAMA just so he can discuss the articles with her. He knows she loves him when she indulges him in theoretical discussions on the mating rituals of Sasquatch, not bothering to point out that the creature doesn’t exist, or wastes entire Saturdays watching movies that were bad enough to earn Razzies because he finds poorly made films entertaining.

Scully has never met Mulder’s parents, accepting his explanation that his mother is cold and his father distant, which is why she feels caught off guard when he calls her at work on a Tuesday to tell her that his mother had a stroke, and he is on his way to the hospital. He doesn’t ask her for anything, but she leaves work anyway, approaching the reception desk of the emergency department with a level of calm only a doctor is capable of.

“I’m looking for Teena Mulder, she should have been admitted within the last few hours,” she says to the young woman behind the desk.

“Yes, she’s here,” the woman answers, “but visiting hours don’t start until 4:00 and someone is already with her now. Are you family?” The woman looks at her expectantly.

“Um, no, I’m not,” she replies, not bothering to explain that Tenna Mulder is her boyfriend’s mother, who she’s never met.

“You can take a seat then,” the woman says with a well-practiced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

She finds an empty seat and pulls in a deep breath, taking out her cell phone in hopes she can reach Mulder, though cell reception in hospitals is notoriously bad.

“Excuse me, are you Dana?” someone says from a few seats away, and she turns to see an older man, perhaps in his sixties, with receding dark brown hair and tired bags under his eyes.

“Yes,” she replies, eyeing him skeptically as he rises from his seat and takes the one just beside her.

“I’m Bill Mulder, Fox’s father,” he says, offering his hand.

She takes it, scanning him for similarities to Mulder and finding none, other than his complexion and hair color.

“Oh, hello, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Mulder,” she stumbles, a bit confused. As Mulder tells it, his parents are divorced and not on friendly terms.

“Please, you can call me Bill,” he says with a small smile, and she nods. “Fox is with her now, though I don’t think she’s awake,” he offers.

They sit in awkward silence, Scully realizing she has absolutely no information with which to start a conversation. Mulder has told her nothing about his parents, aside from the details relevant to his sister’s abduction. She doesn’t know what Bill Mulder does, or did, for a living, or where he lives. Just when she’s considering going home, Mulder emerges from a set of double doors.

He was clearly looking for his father, but when he sees Scully his eyebrows knit and his chin puckers in relief. She stands and he scoops her up, squeezing her so tight it hurts.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispers hoarsely into her ear.

They part, hands clasped, and he addresses his father.

“Mom just woke up, you can go see her soon, but since Scully is here I’d like to take her back first.”

Scully gives him an incredulous look.

“Mulder, I’m sure your mom doesn’t want to meet me for the first time from a hospital bed,” she pleads.

“I know, but I want you to look at her chart. I just want to make sure that what the doctors are saying is accurate,” he says with desperate eyes, and she nods.

He leads her back through the double doors and into a room where a tall white-haired woman is reclining in the bed, an oxygen cannula tucked under her nose. While she saw little resemblance between Mulder and his father, the likeness to his mother is almost jarring; her stately nose and hooded eyes curating in Scully an immediate fondness for her. She blinks slowly at them, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Mom, this is Dana,” he says, and her expression shifts into one that is slightly pained.

She attempts to speak, one side of her mouth rooting for words that she can’t quite find.

“Hi Mrs. Mulder, I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances,” Scully offers, “I’m a medical doctor, Fox asked me to take a look at your chart, if that’s okay?”

Teena nods and closes her eyes, and Scully goes to retrieve her chart from near the door. After she’s looked it over, they say goodbye and return to the lobby to find Mulder’s father.

“Go ahead, Dad, I’ll see you in there,” Mulder says, and then walks Scully to her car.

“So, what do you think?” he asks as they stand next to her open car door, worry crumpling his features.

“I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, Mulder. Her stroke was significant, you can see that by the degree to which it’s impacting her speech and gross motor function. It shouldn't get any worse, but she’ll need to go through rehab, and likely need some in-home care for a bit until we know the long term impact. It’s very possible that she’ll be able to continue living independently, but not right away.”

Mulder heaves a big sigh and nods. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit, but I think I’ll be home before you go to bed.”

“Of course, whatever you need,” she replies, bringing her palm to his cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you, again, for coming down here. You didn’t have to.”

“Mulder, of course I did,” she says with concern. “I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”

He kisses her one, two, three times, pulling her close for a beat, clinging to her for dear life.

“I love you,” he chokes out, and she hugs him tighter.

“I love you too,” she replies, her chin tucked tight into the crook of his neck.

When he releases his grip on her, she brings her hands to his jaw, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks.

“We’ll get through this, okay? We’ll figure it out,” she assures him, and he nods tersely.

———

She’s in bed reading, Priscilla curled up on her stomach, when she hears the thunk of the deadbolt.

“Mulder?” she calls out, and he pokes his head through the door.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll be in in a minute,” he says, then disappears again.

He returns ten minutes later, shower-fresh and warm. She sets her book aside to envelop him in her arms, his head finding a home on her chest as his arms snake around her ribcage.

“How is she?” she asks as she strokes her fingers through his hair and down his neck soothingly.

“The same,” he says with a defeated tone, “they might release her to rehab tomorrow.”

“And how are you?” she asks, giving his neck a little squeeze.

He groans. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About your mom?”

“No,” he says, propping up on his elbow to look at her, “about life, I guess.”

She lifts her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t want to toil away in the BSU for the rest of my life, Scully. If I die tomorrow, what will I have to show for it?”

She frowns at him sympathetically.

“You make a difference in the BSU, Mulder. You help catch murderers, prevent further loss of life. It may not seem like it because you’re so far removed from the people it impacts, but you do.”

He flops back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling.

“You’re probably right, but it still feels pretty pointless.”

“What would you rather be doing?” she asks gently, rolling on to her side to face him.

“Honestly?” he steals a glance at her before continuing, “investigating The X Files. Making progress in understanding what happened to my sister. Working to expose those who are responsible for the coverup of secret government operations.”

“Maybe you should talk to AD Skinner, try again. Maybe The X files could be reopened,” she says softly, brushing her palm over his arm.

Mulder shakes his head. “Nothing has changed, Scully. They won’t let me operate without a partner and no one wants to work with me.”

“I’d work with you, but that’s against bureau policy,” she says with a small smile, and he looks at her with an affectionate gaze.

“I’m sure you’d have a field day debunking all my work,” he says coyly.

“I would never,” she retorts sarcastically.

He rolls back towards her, pulling her close with her head tucked under his chin.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says, his voice full of emotion.

“Well you do have me, so there’s no point in thinking about it,” she replies.

He sighs deeply, reaching past her to turn off the bedside lamp, and they sleep.

[massivedrickhead]

Home Is a Person: Chapter 1/29

So... I got a prompt in my tumblr inbox sometime last year and I wrote a chapter but never really thought anything would come of it. And then not too long ago I was just hit by inspiration for it, and wrote a lot more. And I finally finished it yesterday.

I have worked really hard on this fic, there’s been a lot of late nights and a lot of almost giving up. I’ve tried to be as accurate with everything as I can, but I’m sure I’ve messed up plenty.

There’s going to be some heavy stuff going on, but I’ll make sure to post trigger warnings each chapter that they’re relevant. If you think I’ve missed a tag, please let me know and I’ll add it.

Since the entire fic is finished, I’ll be posting a chapter every other day.

Anyway, I can’t believe I finally finished this thing. I hope you all like it.

(Also yes I kinda hate the title)

Summary: Beca has been in the foster care system since she was a baby, and she’s never had anywhere she could call home.

She arrives at the Beale’s home just hoping for a safe place to stay until she turns 18.

For Chloe’s part, she had never gotten behind her parents’ need to foster kids. And despite outward appearances, she hadn’t felt at home here since she was a kid.

Read on AO3

Excerpt Below

“This family is real nice Beca. I think you’re going to like them.”

Beca didn’t answer, and just carried on watching the blur of trees pass the car window.

She didn’t really know where they were going. Some suburb in some town.

“Promise you’ll be friendly?”

“I’m always friendly,” Beca mumbled, her voice anything but.

She’d been with more families than she could count, and Gail always told her how real nice they were as she drove her.

Some had been. Some hadn’t.

“They’re quite religious.”

Beca felt a strip of fire race across her back.

“What kind of religious?”

“I dunno. The Christian kind?”

Beca turned to look at her.

This blonde woman was the only constant in Beca’s life, from when she became a ward of the state at 11 months old, she was still here almost 17 years later, driving Beca to her latest in a long line of foster homes.

“Gail,” Beca said, briefly drawing the woman’s attention away from the road.

Beca remembered being six, after an adoption attempt had fallen through, sobbing to this woman.

She didn’t know why no family would adopt her, but Gail promised it would happen soon.

“Why can’t you just adopt me?”

“You promised,” Beca said. “After the last family, you promised.”

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T

Words: 1.2K~

Summary: His family’s not present, the third time he runs away. They never see the creature he becomes.

Early corruption AU.

Howdy. To be honest, I don’t have any more buffer finalized for this fic at the moment, but I really, really wanted to post this. Chapters 18-25 are entirely plotted out, though. (There’s some lore headcanons in the author’s notes of the AO3 version!)

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

____

“I’d like to thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Peridot addresses the small crowd sitting before her on the top of the hillside above the temple. Garnet and Pearl are in attendance, as well as Amethyst, Bismuth, and Lapis— the individuals who supported her in making her latest breakthrough possible. Also present is Greg, Connie, and Connie’s medical professional mother, who she doesn’t know well enough to remember the name of. Resting behind her is a double-sided chalkboard— the surface facing her audience empty— and a tall, mysterious contraption obscured under a white bed sheet. “Before we begin, I must disclose that this system has only gone through rudimentary testing, so success is not guaranteed immediately.”

“Anything’s better than nothing at this point,” Steven’s father says, loosely tugging upon the large hunks of grass surrounding him within his aimlessly flexing grip.

(Silently, Garnet places her hand on his upper arm, beckoning for him to relax, to take a deep breath and unwind.)

“Y-yes, of course,” she stammers in reply, suddenly hyper-aware of the spotlight she’s called down upon herself, and how fervently everyone gathered here desires her success. Swallowing hard, she attempts to recollect her wits. “And now, to introduce my new technology.” She yanks a sheet off of her invention, positioned beside her. “Tah-dahhh!” she intones with dramatic vibrato, wriggling her fingers towards the bizarre towering device.

It stands as tall as Garnet, long and skinny with a solid base. Attached to its top is a small satellite dish retrofitted with a plethora of navigation system components from an old decommissioned Roaming Eye. Thick bundles of wires wind around the central pole holding the dish aloft, connecting to a cluster of human computers. If one were to look inside those computers, they’d quickly realize that many of their chips and cords have been replaced with the same exceedingly common hard light circuitry that’s used in energy transfer systems in Gem settlements. It’s a glorious combination of Gem and human technology, a celebration of the radical change both species are able to accomplish, working hand-in-hand.

(And most appropriately, it’s a hybrid, much like their missing friend.)

“So how is this... thing... supposed to work?” Connie’s mother says, appearing more confused than impressed by this display. Connie herself sits in unnerving silence beside her, her darkened, hollow expression a stark reminder of what the stakes of this mission truly are. There’s far too little hope amongst the members of this audience already, so any further failure may threaten to destroy resolve altogether.

Unable to fully meet the teen’s eyes, Peridot’s gaze drops to her feet. She flushes deep. “I, um... well,” she begins, adjusting her visor as drops of sweat bead upon her forehead, around her gem. “The theory of it is essentially that, uh—“

“It’s a location tracker,” Bismuth chimes in, swiftly rescuing her from under the crippling pressure. “We think we can triangulate Steven’s exact position on any planet with it.”

“Uh- yes, precisely!”

She briefly pauses to allow hard light to refresh her form, running all the way from her core to her furthest extremities. She’s fine— it’s fine. This is brand new tech, and it’s not solely her fault if it fails to succeed in its role on the first, second, or even third run. While it crushes her to entertain the very thought, what she truly needs is to forget about Steven for a moment. Forget about the pressure. Forget about the stakes. Her job right now is simply to explain the basic principles of this machine’s operation in a manner that her audience might understand. Nothing more, nothing less.

“As an introduction to this technology,” she says, picking up a stethoscope-like device that’s been wired into the base of the tracker and extending it towards the crowd to showcase, “I have invented a method to extract precise resonant frequencies from any Gem, using this. These frequencies are a unique identifying mark amongst Gemkind... think of it almost like a Gem fingerprint. Of course, Steven has both of these things,” she states matter-of-factly, placing the extractor tool down on the top of the hollowed-out computer and slowly beginning to pace back and forth in front of her creation. “Fingerprints from his organic parentage, yes. But given he inherited his mother’s gemstone, he inherited her resonant frequency as well. This frequency... is what we’re going to track.”

Peridot pauses for only a few seconds, just long enough to allow her friends ample time to bask in the logic of her unquestioned genius. There’s no time to dawdle! She worked hard on this project, and she’s only just now approaching the crux of its operation.

“Now, what some of you may be wondering,” she charges right ahead without so much as asking for questions, “is how any of this information is helpful. Why, Steven is missing, Peridot!” she exclaims, throwing her arms outwards. “How could we ever hope to retrieve the information needed to locate him when we don’t know where he is? And to answer that, I present my most important finding.”

She clicks her fingers, beckoning Lapis to join her at the front of the small crowd. Her hydrokinetic friend rotates the chalkboard on its axle to reveal the other side, which has various graphs and schematics hastily taped to its textured surface. She gestures towards two of them, a spectrogram showing a direct read of one of her test subject’s unique frequency over time, and another showing a read of the same Gem’s frequency, but derived from a different source. The resultant peaks and valleys of this second frequency are less sharp, but still immediately familiar in shape.

“In the past few days, I have conducted a number of experiments with volunteers from Little Homeschool, and have discovered that when two Gems fuse, an imprint of the fusion partner’s resonant frequency is saved in both gems. The more frequent the fusion, the stronger this imprint is. My current theory is that storing this information allows for easier synchronicity upon successive fusions, but— that isn’t strictly relevant to this mission. What this means is that we can extract Steven’s unique resonance from any individual who has fused with him.”

“Any individual?” Connie chimes in suddenly, her hands clasped in a vice-like grip in her lap.

Recognizing how desperately the human wishes to be a pivotal part in finding her best friend, she offers her a thin, regretful smile. “Regrettably, no. I apologize for my lack of clarity. This procedure will only work with Gems.”

“Then I’ll do it,” a voice cuts in from the crowd.

Simultaneously, everyone turns to meet the speaker’s gaze. Peridot’s brow creases with surprise as Pearl stands to her feet, her posture wrapped in a shawl of hesitancy. Out of the three Gems in attendance here who have fused with Steven, she has to admit— Pearl was not the one she expected to volunteer first.

“I am, of course, the individual who has fused most with that Gem,” she says, clutching her hands against her chest. “Maybe not with Steven himself, but... it’s like you said. He inherited her frequency. Her song. And I know firsthand that its melody is unchanged.”

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 38: Marshaling the Faithful

Latest chapter of my Dragon Age Inquisition Long Fic In the Shattering of Things

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Chapter 38: Marshaling the Faithful

Chapter Summary: As Rose and the Inquisition leaders attempt to formulate a plan to move forward from their tenuous position in the mountain pass, she grapples with the growing reverence and fervor of those around her and what it could mean for her.

Excerpt:

I approach the medical tent just as a worker spills from it, stumbling out, the whites of his eyes visible all the way around, his face blanched of color. Ellendra follows him out, wiping her hands on her apron, unimpressed by the show.

“What now?” she demands in an exasperated tone.

“It’s back!” he cries, his voice quavering in terror, pointing at the tent.

“The ghost, is it?” she asks, her face as skeptical as her unyielding tone. “Maker, Quent. We don’t have time for this nonsense.”

“A ghost?” I ask, joining them.

“Ah, Herald. Perhaps you can talk some sense into him. We’ve got to prepare patients for transport.”

“Herald,” he breathes, trying to retrieve himself from the clutches of fear and embarrassment.

“Did she say a ghost?” I ask, wondering what he could be on about.

“Y-yes,” he sighs. “Looming over Chancellor Roderick this time. It’s a demon or something. A spirit of death come to take him!”

“But nobody else sees him?”

“Silvette saw it yesterday, too. But I didn’t at the time and I gave her lip about it. I feel like a proper git now,” he admits.

“I’ll have a look then,” I tell him, feeling like nothing could terrify me after the harrowing events of Haven and my escape. 

I duck into the darkness of the medical tent, which is dimly lit by magical orbs of clinical white light held aloft over brass devices set on hastily assembled tables. There aren’t many patients at least, but I see Roderick gazing at me, muttering softly to himself in one corner and I approach, dropping to my knees beside him. After a moment, his eyes slip closed.

In the Chantry he’d expressed hope in me. Faith even. And here he lay, damp and delirious with fever, restless while he sleeps in the final grip of some manner of infection. I find myself hoping that I’d delivered, that I’d fulfilled whatever he came to believe about me. Him of all people, the stuffed shirt who lambasted me all those times early on. Who insisted I was some manner of heretic, rather than an impossibly confused woman who was incidentally marked by magic. Somehow I craved his absolution.

“He thinks you’re a spirit,” comes a soft voice to my left. I clutch my chest in a start, my entire insides seizing. A ghost. But it’s only the boy who’d arrived ahead of the Red Templars, Cole, he’d said, perched on the table at the foot of Roderick’s deathbed. He was strange from the beginning, but there’s something more about him. And as startling as his sudden arrival is, his presence is nothing but serenity itself.

“Roderick you mean?”

“You came to him, he thought you came for him. Sent by Andraste to bring him to the Maker.”

“I wish that were true. For him,” I say softly, absently, as I look upon him, another casualty of the attack.

“If he believes it, then it’s a little bit true,” replies Cole. “I could make it true for him.”

“You could make it true? What do you mean?” I ask. 

“He’s suffering– the wound won’t heal, corrupted, crowded with crystals…” My breath snags in the back of my throat– his wound is like mine. I scan Roderick again. Is this to be my fate? Sweating and muttering until infection claims me?

“I could take him to his Maker. We could do it. He’d believe it was you.”

“You’re not suggesting–”

“It would be mercy,” says Cole. “I want to help.”

“But that’s– wrong,” I say, feeling it reflexively deep within me, that lifetime of conditioning that life is sacred and not to be stolen.

“His pain is wrong,” the boy answers. And there’s some truth to that. Roderick is not long for the world, and there’s little to do but try to make him comfortable. “He could believe. We could give him that.”

“We?”

“I won’t do it if you tell me not to,” he says, strangely subservient to me.

“Why– would you wait for me?”

“Because you understand things that I don’t.”

Roderick stirs slightly again, mumbled prayers slipping through cracked lips, begging for the Maker, for Andraste to bring him to his side. His suffering twists like a knife in my side and I know the shriek of the lyrium within him. There’s no peace for him now.

“All right,” I say to Cole. “End his suffering.” Cole silently glides from his perch as if perfectly weightless, a whisper of a being in spite of being here. Perhaps he’s not a boy at all.

In less than a second with a glint of blade, Roderick’s throat is cut so cleanly it looks like a hairline of red across his neck. I’m transfixed by it, by the horror of it and then the force of his blood surges from the wound and the reality of my choice spills all over the cot beneath him. I stumble in a panic back into the center tent pole, the whole of the structure wobbling and rustling.

“You– cut his throat,” I gasp. Cole looks at me, bewildered by my reaction.

“I ended his suffering,” he says, baffled, wiping his blade.

“But– not like that. How could you do it like that?” I demand in a hiss. I collect myself– I need rags– something to stop the blood. Something to clean up– so that people don’t know what I allowed. “Help me,” I beg him but I look up and Cole is gone, whisking away as silently as he’d appeared and I’m left with the remains of someone who mattered, someone I’d allowed to be killed as they bleed out all over the medical tent.

DAFF Crew:

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @mogwaei | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 7: you matter to me (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Mr. and Mrs. Grimm’s A+ parenting, panic attacks, unconventional sibling problems/dynamics, very brief disappearance (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! All feedback is very welcomed, I didn’t have anyone to beta so *sighs loudly*. This chapter is kinda angsty and opens up some fun new plot relevant strings. I also want to make it clear that I will be demonstrating Roman putting in work to fix his mess ups in later chapters as well! He’s got some loose ends to tie up, and he will do so. 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Creativitwins

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord @genderlessfish

Janus’ eyes move to Logan, they seem to communicate without a breath between them. Logan takes nothing but his phone with him when he heads into the hall, but it’s far too late. Remus is nowhere in sight.

Roman takes a shuddering sigh, places his head in his hands, and leans against the makeup counter.

“I’m-I’m sorry-I don’t-I don’t know what that was-”

“Yes, you do.”

The room feels so uncomfortable, the tension could be cut with a knife. Roman knows Janus well enough to know his glare cuts sharper than any weapon could ever. Especially to him. His face stays firmly planted in his hands, hiding from the truth he’s been avoiding for far too long.

“Roman, look at me,” Janus orders. 

He listens and keels back in shame at the look of anger and disappointment on his friend’s face.

“Tell me the truth, why are you doing this?”

It’s a good question. For all it’s worth though, he doesn’t know. Which seems like the cop-out of the century, but truly...he has no clue at the moment. That, however, is not an answer Janus will accept and not one he will accept of himself. 

With a deep breath, he thinks “Alright, Roman. Be honest. Why are you doing this?”

Within moments he gets it and it is the easiest conclusion he’s ever come to. The twins have always had a very sturdy dichotomy. Remus was a messy and wild child growing up, while Roman was clean and polite. When they played, there was always a good and just prince and an evil conniving duke. There were good marks and bad marks. Good ideas and bad ideas. Clean and messy. Good and evil. Something nice and something terrible. Even in the eyes of their parents. It didn’t matter to them as children, Remus even seemed to enjoy it on occasion. Looking back, he only ever liked being “bad” when he got to choose it. When they played in their yard and there was a choice between swimming in the pool and scooping water onto the grass to “drown the bugs”, he was the happiest child in the universe. When the school called their father and told him that Remus had been in another fight, he looked like someone had ripped his soul from his body. It didn’t matter the reason he was fighting, he was “bad”. Roman had always thought the merit of the fight was dictated by why you were fighting in the first place, but apparently, he was wrong. 

The dichotomy they played into was fun! It was! For a while, at least. Then Roman began being berated by everyone around him for acting similarly to his brother. Then Remus was the new social outcast months before they hit middle school. Then it wasn’t fun anymore. Being “good” was stressful and lonely. Teachers, classmates, friends, family, everyone equated “good” with perfect. Perfection is a hard burden to bear alone and twelve years old. Roman’s mind drifts to when they split up. When the dichotomy became less of a two-person game played for fun, and more of an ugly sweater from an aunt that they had to wear to every formal event. It was hard, it was always much too hard. It hurt him. Recently, he realized the much heavier burden of being “bad”. The stress and loneliness must be tenfold when everyone beats into your brain that you are the perfect example of the “Evil Twin” trope. Even your own brother. Your twin. 

“Everyone told me,”

They had been a pair once.

“‘Roman, you’re such a good kid, you’re good at everything.’”

They were a good pair. Even now. He’d worked with him just a month ago to put something together and it was amazing.

“‘There is nothing you can’t do!’”

A few months ago, he was doing something he hadn’t thought possible and making amends with his brother.

“To them, I was independent and self-sufficient,”

He wasn’t either of those things, not then and not now. He had always been a pair.

“I was perfect. I had to be.”

The catch is that he gave up the only person who didn’t care if he was perfect.

“I thought it was true, I-”

The catch is that now his actions dawn on him fully like a wave over the shore.

“I needed them to be right.”

His breath shakes, “Who am I if I’m not that?”

The wave of grief and guilt crashes into him, and all he can think about now is how much he wants to take back every single mean thing he’s ever said about his brother. He feels the sea of emotions that he’s held back take him in and drown him with ferocity. Janus sighs as Roman stares at him through watery eyes.

“Roman. You were doing so well with Remus.”

He’s right, Janus is always right about these things. Two months ago, he had been doing so much better. He and Remus were still bickering in public, but it was fun to him. Though when Remus had “glue-and-feather’d” his makeup bag, he had thrown a little fit, he laughed about it later. Remus had laughed with him. It was light and fun. May, June, and most of July were the most fun he’d had with Remus in years. They’d spent time together, helped each other with chores, ridden to the theatre together. Little, minuscule things. Things that made such a tremendous difference in Roman’s confidence. 

“What happened?”

The same thing that always happened. His mother came home

There was always something different about his mother. When he and Remus had befriended Janus in elementary school, they met someone else's mother for the first time. He realized the day he had met her what made his mom so different. Lillian Devine, or as they called her Mrs.Lilli, was quite possibly the strangest woman they had ever met. The first time they saw her, Janus had seen her outside the school and made a beeline for his mother’s arms. She took him up into her arms, gave him a spin, and hugged him tightly. Roman doesn’t remember much from being that young, but he can remember the first moment he felt jealousy was when Lillian took Janus into that hug and loudly announced that she missed him. Only gone a day at school, and she missed him enough to announce it to the world. He remembers going home to a very big, very empty house. He was grumpy, clutching Remus’ hand like a lifeline as their nanny ushered them into their room and told them she would collect them at dinner time. When she collected them, Roman asked if she had missed them. She said, “I’m not your mother, am I?”.

His mother was different. When she came home, she would offer Roman a hug and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Every time, even the most recent. Like clockwork. Roman, sometimes accompanied by Remus, would wait outside the door for his mother’s car to arrive. She would exit and her heels would clack along the stone pathway. She would kiss him on the cheek when she got up the steps, offer him a quick hug, then begin to speak about her latest adventures in Paris. If Remus stood with him, she would give him her coat. Roman would always take it from him, hang it up, and follow his mother wherever she went. Recently the thought of their mother handing Remus her coat made Roman want to puke. 

They’d had dinner together one night in July. On her most recent visit, she told stories of her new revolutionary fashion line. He told her all about the newest theatre show. Remus made an effort to sit with them, and it was a labour for Roman to look at his mother when he spoke instead of Remus. He was there for all his anecdotes but he would still hang off of every word just to find something to prod at. Remus stood, and his mother’s words echoed in his brain.

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

He latches onto that conversation, that’s really when the downfall started. 

“Mother, that was quite rude…” He says softly, keeping his eyes on his plate.

“Sometimes you have to tell the truth, my darling.” She laughs then, and Roman wants more than anything to get up and chase his brother.

“Speaking of your theatre production,” He turns his attention back to her, “Your father is thinking of coming this year.”

All thoughts of defending his brother leave his brain entirely. His mouth dries and he feels the onset of excitement and pure panic. At that moment he is consumed by selfishness and tries to push away the panic and think only of this dream come true. 

“He’ll be happy to hear you got the lead again,”

“But Mother, I told you, I’m only-”

“Yes, the understudy. You’ll change that, won’t you, my darling? I didn’t raise you to get second place, did I?”

He was good. What he was doing was good. He couldn’t disappoint his mother, let alone his father. Truth be told, he barely even spoke to the man except for their short and brief calls on the major holidays. He hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years. He’d outgrown the excuse of him being busy but hadn’t outgrown the fire that a visit from his father lights inside him. It became even worse when after two feeble attempts to be rid of Logan, his father called him. Unprompted, unscheduled, and entirely without cause. He buzzed when he picked up the phone. 

“Roman.”

“Hello, father.” He can barely contain the happiness buzzing around in his throat.

“I have made time in my schedule to come to see your stage performance at the request of your mother. She has told me you landed the lead role again, I can’t say I’m not impressed. This is the sixth year in a row she has asked me, you know. I hope there is some merit to your casting director’s choice.”

He can barely keep himself sat down, the urge to jump around is so intense that he nearly dies. “Oh, certainly! I won’t let you down! Oh! And neither will Remus, he’s entirely spectacular in his role this year, I really think you’ll love-”

“I am not attending this production to see your brother. I trust you won’t let me down, because unlike him, you are not a failure. I will see you then, goodbye.”

In one fell swoop, his father had crushed his mood and strengthened his resolve. 

“My father is coming to the production. He called me himself to confirm.”

“The man who talks to you on average thirty minutes a year is coming to our show? Please tell me you’re joking.” The shock is evident in Janus’ voice as he searches Roman’s face desperately to ensure he’s lying.

“I’m not. My mother, she-she told him I got the lead. He told me-He told me that he was impressed with my track record. Then I-Well I started talking about Remus’ spectacular performance and he...He said he wasn’t coming to see Remus and that I-” Roman is on the verge of tears, he feels the urge to crumble like a war-torn kingdom.

Janus places a hand on his shoulder, meant to be a comfort, “That you what?”

Tears track down Roman’s face as he sits and slumps over to physically display his guilt, “That I’m not a failure like him, so I won’t let him down.”

“I am internalizing so much anger at the moment, please give me a second.” Janus takes a deep breath and screams angrily out loud. Roman takes it as initiative and screams as well, but much more wet and sad. 

Janus pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

“You didn’t think to tell anyone any of this?” Roman shakes his head and sniffles.

Janus mutters to himself, “Right. Of course, you didn’t. You fool.” 

“We all know you’re not an absolute prick Roman. You’d obviously just pick on Logan for no reason you’re totally not super stressed or something.” He recoils at that, Janus’ face falls.

“I’m just-Roman-You can talk to me,” Janus speaks with an air entirely too soft for him.

What gets Roman’s attention is the tired and slightly sad, “Lord knows that neither of you does enough.”

“I’m here for you, even if you do some very morally shifty things. Especially if it’s all because you’re all stressed out and your daddy issues are taking centre stage in your mind.” He sits beside him now, taking Roman’s hand in his.

“I know how passionate you are, and I can tell that this isn’t how you want to do it. So, you don’t have to. You have...lots of things to make up for and apologize for. But there is still time. As long as you mean it, and you want to do better.”

Weakly, he mutters “I do.”

“Then find a way to apologize and fix it the way you always do.”

“And what way is that?” He asks with a soft smile, to which Janus chuckles under his breath.

“Facing every and all challenges with courage and honesty. Obviously,” Janus raises a thumb and wipes the tears from Roman’s cheeks with a genuine smile. 

So it was settled then. Roman needed to apologize. To everyone. He was already thinking of ways to express his sorrow and regret properly, his brilliant brain spitting out lavish and somewhat laborious ideas. Janus can tell from the way the passionate light returns to his eyes and he smiles. There is work to be done. 

The door slams open and an entirely too panicked Virgil stands in the doorway, “Janus-”

Work to be done later. Virgil’s breath is coming in whooping waves, his body is shaking, makeup smudged from anxious tears rolling down his face. Janus moves with purpose, approaching Virgil like a particularly protective guardian. Virgil grabs the fabric of his hoodie and tries to breathe.

“That’s it, Virgil, you’re alright,” He coos, gently placing a hand on his head.

“We can’t-” Virgil speech is messy and laboured, “We-We can’t find Remus-He’s-He’s not picking up his phone-I’m-We-”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus has done this before, sure. But it’s always been silly and fun and not motivated by weeks worth of stress and terrible feelings. Roman knows his words were the cherry on the cake, and nearly slaps himself for still being sat there while his brother was who knows where.

Roman grabs Remus’ bag from the floor, opening it to find his phone. There are almost fifty missed messages, most of them from a contact labelled “The Sexy Kind Of Spider” who he can only assume is Virgil. 

“His phone’s still here,” He sifts through the bag some more, “Along with his jacket and his car keys.” 

“Well, I’d say he can’t have gone far, but we all know how crafty Remus is,” Janus says with a drained expression on his face which only inspires Virgil to clutch his shirt even tighter.

There’s a fire in Roman now, an urge to find his brother’s newest hiding spot and somehow make it up to him. He slings the bag over his shoulder and approaches the pair.

“No need to fear, Virge! I’ll find Remus and bring him back to us as quickly as I can!”

Virgil only nods in response, prompting Janus to gently ruffle his hair. Roman leaves, knowing that the Virgil situation is in very capable hands. On to finding his brother. 

He sends a quick text to Thomas debriefing the situation, playing it off as a “typical Remus situation”, and leaves the building. If Remus had been outside the theatre, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Potentially unfortunately from Roman, a certain nerd was out there looking instead. When they made eye contact, Logan approached. He looked...frazzled. Much more so than Roman had ever seen. 

“There you are. I was wondering when you would come help. Remus is missing and hasn’t answered his phone.”

“He left it here, but I’m going to go and look for him.” 

Logan mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of something-or-other, but Roman does not have the time to care. Him and Logan talk for another minute, Logan even gives him his number to call when he finds him. Logan says he’s going to get more people to look, Roman only nods. He’s focused in, there’s hope for a new start still and he’ll be damned if he loses it to Remus randomly disappearing forever. He piles into his car with Remus’ bag and starts his search.

Hope turns to fear after the third hour with no signs of his brother. He had checked his house, all the old spots Remus used to love, their whole neighbourhood, Janus’ house, every department store near the theatre. Nothing. It was like a magician cast a spell to make his brother disappear. He’s on the verge of panic. His hands are shaking like a bitch and his breathing wavers with each word he mutters to himself to ease his anxiety. He has to pull over into the parking lot of the convenience store near his home. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive anywhere anymore. He wonders for a moment how in the hell his brother disappeared so quickly. He only had about thirty minutes on foot ahead of them, how had nobody found him? He almost cries sitting at the wheel. What if he’d been kidnapped? Murdered? Taken for ransom? Wait, that’s the same as kidnapping, isn’t it? God, it didn’t matter now! His brother was gone. For nearly ten minutes he lets the situation hit him hard. Tears roll through his body and he sobs. If Remus was gone forever, what would he do? What could he do? 

A worker from the store comes out from the front. They see Roman and Roman sees them. Roman couldn’t care less that they now look incredibly uncomfortable. They move to the back of the store and from Roman can see, they’re talking to someone. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know why he’s watching. He’s still crying like a baby. The thought of having lost his brother to the universe is still making his head pound. The worker gives whoever they’re talking to a smile, walks back inside the store, and from the till inside they give Roman a reassuring smile as well. He gives them a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath. He needs to pull himself together and find-

When Remus turns the corner from behind the store, Roman goes for the door handle before he can think. The sight of his shivering, tear-stained, obviously upset brother has him moving. He rips the door open and scrambles out. He trips over the edge of the car door and it doesn’t even matter. His palms and knees scrape against the concrete, ripping the skin on his hands and hurting his knees. He doesn’t care. It stings and he doesn’t care. The second he’s on his feet again he bolts at Remus and throws his arms around his chest. His head is firmly locked between Remus’ neck and shoulder, he’s grabbing at his shirt like a lifeline. His breathing is erratic, the tears are back now and back with a vengeance. His knees are shaking. He hadn’t even recognized how terribly and horribly scared of losing his brother he even was. Feeling it now was like the first breath of autumn air in your summer lungs. Remus stands there, just stands there. For a moment, the buzzing of his mind recognizes someone saying his name. Then there are arms around him. He’s being squeezed within an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind again. 

All Roman’s scared voice can squeak out is a loud and cracking, “I’m sorry!”

They stand together in the chilly late-august afternoon air, in full sight of any neighbours or employees at the store, for five minutes. They sway slightly. Remus doesn’t say a word. Not one passes through his lips. Remus pulls away, only to take Roman’s hand and drag him to the car. 

“C’mon you crybaby, let’s go home.”

Roman just nods and doesn’t comment on the tears on Remus’ cheeks. Remus takes the driver’s seat and Roman piles into the passengers’ side. He holds his brother’s bag in his lap, he squeezes it tightly. The drive home is only a few minutes, but Roman’s breathing calms enough to the point where he can rationalize texting. Janus, Logan, and Virgil all get a very simple text, but it’s enough to explain the situation.

‘Found him. We’re going home. He’ll call you in a bit.’

They pull into the driveway, shuffle into the house, take off their shoes. It seems weirdly unreal. It’s like Roman has entered some twilight zone where he and his brother get along. A twilight zone that Roman hopes to make a reality. Like he’s an upset kid again, he takes his brother’s hand and remains resolute in not crying again as he leads him through their empty house. The maid is there, she sees them pass. She doesn’t say a word. She watches the obviously upset twins make their way down the hall and into Roman’s room. Remus lets Roman take him by the shoulders and sit him on his bed. They stare at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. 

Roman takes the first step, “You scared me, Remus.”

Remus looks away, “I didn’t think you’d care, really…”

“Of course I’d care! Remus, I-I always cared! And I meant it when I said that I am truly sorry!” He’s crying again, and frankly, he feels a little stupid. 

“I kinda figured when you ran at me crying like a crazy person,” His brother picks up the end of his blanket and wipes his face with it, “You’re crying a lot today.”

“I’ve had a quite terrible afternoon, I think a little emotional distress is warranted.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, Remus smacks the blanket gently across his cheek. 

Remus ushers him in again, nudging his head against Roman’s stomach and wrapping arms around his back. Roman stands between Remus’ legs and holds his head like the precious thing it is. 

There’s a shudder of a breath from each of them. Both of them are so painfully aware of how long it’s been since the last time they sought out each other for comfort like this. There’s something so familiar in it. The warmth that Roman remembers from a childhood spent at each other’s sides. They used to be so close that they shared a bed by choice. He spent nights asleep and calm holding onto his brother. This feels like that. Something so personal and so old. Remus starts to cry again and it’s a messy sob that makes Roman’s ears ring. He squats down to look Remus in the eyes, taking his hands in his. 

“I didn’t mean it, Rem. I don’t think you’re a failure-I-” Remus cries harder, he does his best to wipe the tears with his fingers.

“You-You mean much more to me than I’m sure I've let on in recent years.” There’s a tenderness and honesty in Roman’s voice that feels good and right.

“Mother and Father have been driving me insane, pressuring me to say and do things that I frankly don’t believe in.” The feelings he’s sharing now are lightening something in Roman’s chest, and from the look on Remus’ face, his words are more than on the right track. 

“Not anymore. I promise to you that from now on I am going to do everything I can to make up for the terrible things I’ve done.” 

Remus smiles at him, teary-eyed and covered in snot. It’s not gross to Roman, not right now, because Remus looks better. 

“Can you start by getting me some water?” Remus’s hoarse voice coughs out, Roman is on his feet and goes to the kitchen as quickly as he can. 

With two glasses in hand, he hurries back. He stops at the door. Inside, he hears Remus talking. He’s on the phone with Janus, who sounds more than upset. He goes in, gives Remus the glass, and turns to leave for privacy reasons. His brother grabs at his wrist and tugs him back. He sits beside Remus and they drink their water. He keeps his mouth shut and listens to the ways in which other people love his brother. Janus is angrier than anything else. The heart-palpitating rant that ensues is wildly emotional. He talks about how much the incidents of this afternoon scared everyone, goes off on tangents about the risks of running off and not telling anyone, tells him with the most love in his voice that he was worried about him. Remus promises not to do it again, Janus only sighs in a loving way. Janus brings up his talk with Roman, emphasizes his support of both of them, and lets Remus be on his way. Virgil is next, and he’s quiet. The call is full of little silences, Virgil takes breaks between sentences. Stops mid-word to take a breath and keep his wits. He tells Remus that he scared him. Tells him that he cares about him, no matter what. That he loves him and wants the best for him. He doesn’t use those words exactly, but Roman reads between the lines. 

They’re fairly average calls considering the circumstances and their relationships. Roman sees Remus hesitate as his fingers ghost over the call button under Logan’s contact. He’s saved as “Boobear” with a blue and green heart. It’s by far the most normal of the names on his list. It’s by far the sweetest as well. 

“Something wrong?” He asks, and Remus gives him a shaky smile.

“I’m worried about what he’s going to hate me now or something,” 

It’s almost the stupidest thing Roman had ever heard. He might not get along great with Logan, but he’s not blind. The little nerd is wrapped tightly around Remus’ finger. He’s seen Remus hang off of Logan and say all kinds of crazy and vulgar things, only to get a small reprimand or occasionally an annoyed-but-loving smile. Remus can spout off in a rant about nothing in particular, only to have Logan hang onto every word and provide commentary and factual corrections. There is nothing in the world that could shake away the Logan Lark who was smiling and dancing in a field with his brother only a month ago. 

“With the way he looks at you,” Roman chuckles, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this made him love you more.”

Remus blushes furiously, and instead of dignifying Roman with a response, he hits the call button.

Logan picks up the second it goes through as if he was waiting by his phone for Remus to call him. The intense emotion in his voice makes the twins do a double-take. He’s normally so straight and narrow. Measured. Collected. There is an air to the typical Logan that has vanished now. Roman wonders why he couldn’t show this side on stage more often. 

“Remus? Please tell me this is you.”

To cover up his anxiousness, Remus flirts terribly, “Heya hot-stuff, what’re you wearing?”

There’s a relief filled laugh on the other side of the phone, “There’s my answer. Are you alright?”

“M-hm! You’ll never guess who made me feel better with a shit ton of groveling!” There’s an air to Remus’ voice that conveys humour.

“Remus.” Logan sounds so serious, Roman watches Remus sigh and roll his eyes at the care.

“Yeah, Logie. I’m okay. I mean it.”

Logan speaks again, that same serious voice, “I’ve been worried all afternoon.”

“Yeah...��� 

It’s quiet for a second, there’s a tension of the unspoken affection the pair have for each other floating in the room. 

“I feel this is as good a time as any to tell you that I don’t think you’re a failure at all. You-I...In truth, I find you quite interesting to be around. You...You are...immensely talented in my humble opinion. I...While I understand we haven’t been friends for long- I hope it is not presumptuous to say that we are friends-But our relationship is...important to me. I enjoy your company and all you do for me. It...It is a true pleasure to be in your company, Remus. I-” 

Despite the blushing on Remus’ cheeks, he softly mutters “You’re ranting again, Lo-Lo.” 

“My apologies,” Logan nearly whispers out, there is affection seeping from his voice, “However, I meant everything I said.”

“I think you’re the shit too, babes. Sorry for worrying ‘ya.” There’s that affection again, Roman has never heard his brother sound so affectionate.

There’s another pause, Remus speaks again “I’ll make it up to you.”

“If you make a sex joke at a time like this-” Logan scolded, they could almost see his grimace.

“No, I mean it,” Remus laughs, “We can do something together. To make up for it.”

“I’d like that.”

Roman looks to his brother, the phone, and then his brother again. To him, it sounded as if Remus had just asked him out on a date, but he knew well enough that Remus and Logan were probably too dense to understand the implications.

“I’ll uh-I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later then, kay boobear?” Remus asks while staring at Roman, confused about the ‘oh-my-god-you-totally-like-him’ look he’s getting.

“Alright. Goodnight, Remus.” Logan’s voice drips honey and roses as he wishes him goodnight, there is so much Roman can hear wrapped up in that simple sentence and it’s a wonder to him.

“Goodnight.” 

The call ends and Remus lets out a dreamy sigh. 

Roman winds back and smacks Remus with a pillow in excited fervour. 

“You did not tell me you were that in love with Logan!” 

“Wha-You asshole!” Remus takes the pillow and smacks him back, “I am not in love with him!”

“Yeah right! That was the gayest conversation I’ve ever heard!” He nearly shouts, getting up and grabbing more pillows from the collection at the head of his bed.

“We didn’t even say anything juicy!” Teases Remus, grabbing pillows at lightning speed, preparing for what he knows is coming.

“It was in the tone! And don’t say juicy like that you dolt!” 

Remus hits Roman with a pillow to the face. With an excited cackle, Roman launches an attack, throwing as many of his numerous pillows at his brother as he can. There is an all-out war within seconds. Both boys are shrieking and laughing. By the end of the pillow fight, they’re breathless and more joyful than they have been all day.

“How do you feel about a sleepover?” 

Good. Remus feels very good about a sleepover. That night while laying in Roman’s dumb red sheets, cuddling up to his brother in the way that little kids do, he feels happy. Really happy. Genuinely happy. Logan had told him that it was hard to love somebody when they didn’t act as if they loved you back, and he was right. The smartass was always right. Now though, he felt it. His brother had cared, ran for him like he was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. He loves Roman. Apparently, Roman loves him too. His brother hugs him closer in his sleep. That’s more than enough for his brain to quiet tonight. 

Addendum; August 20th -

Remus went missing this afternoon. It worried me greatly, but he turned out alright. Things between the Grimm twins seem to be better. On August 21st, they arrived to practice bickering but holding hands. They both appeared near ecstatic all day, needless to say, it was tiring. There will be no more need for the “Roman Incidents” section of this notebook.

Circled in red pen, written largely at the bottom of the page, underlined three times over. 

Note: Investigate your true feelings for Remus Grimm.

[simpingforthisonedeer]

HEYYYY I READ YOUR FIC AND WOOOOOO THAT WAS AMAZINGFGGG

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS TO ASK BUT ILL KEEP IT SHORT

1. Julius is actually not human is he?

2. How did Aika set the letter on fire if her magic is only time magic?

3. Are Arthur and Holly relevant to the plot or are they just two side characters?

4. What happened to the backpack? We never see it again?

IM SO SORRY IF THATS A LOT BUT AAAAAAAAAA YOUR FIC IS SO GOOOOOOD I CANT WAIT TO READ MORE

OMGGGGG i actually burst into tears 😭😭😭 I don’t think anyone paid much attention to my fic tank u anon this made my whole year 😭😭💕💕

Just for you, I’ll spoil a lil bit🤧😼

1. No, he’s not ;) the latest chapter has soooo many clues tho but you can only catch them if you have a little in-depth knowledge of mythology 😌 I have to say, you should read up on the tree of Sephiroth and each of its nodes and what they mean ;)))

2. Well, if you go to the acc @demons-run-fic-stuff , I believe there’s a pinned comment of Aika and her backstory. You’ll get a little understanding abt how she has other attributes but as of now, no one (except me ofc) knows what all her attributes are. But u can prolly guess that one of them is fire! ;)

3. No one in the story is a side character, dear anon😌 They are all main characters of their own story and yes, going forward, you’ll see more of them and their impact on the plot and future arcs.

4. Well, the backpack is Aika’s main home and the house she is in rn is her childhood home. After Raymond retires, him and his wife will move into that house and Aika will go back to her backpack ;)