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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Wed 7 Apr ‘21

Louis left Tulum and went to Mexico City, and we got airport pics from both ends: the gathered fans were told by his bodyguard that they should keep their distance but that yes, pictures would be allowed. Thank you Louis! We got to see him a little for the first time in so long, in videos of him walking by (and getting ready to walk by) and blurry pics of him with his guitar, and Oli and Charlie- I’m excited to someday see the footage of whatever they’re working on. But for now, finally some proper pictures of the long long hair, or at least the below the hat part, all flippy and like...LONG! It’s on his SHOULDERS! Early pics had some interesting shadows around an elbow, prompting a flurry of NeW TaTtoO?? excitement, but when more pics were posted we could see that no, his elbow remains the same, false alarm. Once that tattoo kerfuffle died down the interest refocused on his shirt, which featured- a whole damn pile of skulls!

Louis went through a long phase of wearing skull shirts a while back, and the fact that it was during a period of a lot of very pointed t-shirt messages (and that he kept doing it more than ever despite knowing what we were reading into it) seemed to reinforce the theory that he did in fact mean things by it, and seeing him say yes to fan photos while wearing this shirt for the occasion… well! WELCOME BACK public Louis, we MISSED YOU! Yesterday’s shirt was for the band Obituary- is the band name a nod at the fact that Syco, generally considered to be the main target of previous skull shirts, is now dead and gone (rest in pieces assholes:))? Is Louis drawing attention to the livestream that band did a few days ago for their album ‘The End Complete’, and if so, is that also about Syco or about… something else? Inconclusive, but if we were meant to find their song “End It Now”, that can truly only be about one thing!! Am I to believe that SBB himself, Mr “I like to draw the fans’ attention to the lyrics of things” just, whoopsy, missed that! I mean, you would think every band on earth has lyrics about “ending it“ with the number of times he’s made that mistake, damn… he just never learns. Poor Louis, gosh how embarrassing! Lol. Anyway, I’ve seen people wondering lately what will happen when all the fans that have joined us in this time of lockdown and of no real contact with Louis will react when their version of Louis has to compete with the real one- and him barely being back at all but immediately reminding people that he is not a dad FFS feels like an excellent beginning, this should be good! BUCKLE IN friends! The real Louis is sooo much more fun than the boring made up one, just get ready to enjoy the chaotic energy and trying to keep up with him….

Oh also Louis liked a Snuts tweet about being underdogs as they fight to get the release week UK #1 for their new album, and a charity says they reached out to Louis AND LOTTIE to play in their celeb footie match PLEASE, HOW CUTE WOULD THAT BE? Come on Tomlinsons, say yes!

Liam has a big interview in Glamour to promote his BAFTAS performance! If *I* were doing the piece I would have really gone hard on the Two Liams angle of the performance (in which Liam will be accompanied by a hologram of himself) but alas they are boring and only interviewed one of him- maybe the part where he says “you're on stage, you're a certain type of person, and at home you're a certain type of person” sort of counts? The “that's always something I've really struggled with” makes it not so fun though, but that’s a Liam interview for ya; worrisome and makes you want to hug him a lot. “I didn't actually realize this for a long time, but I often give a little bit too much away,“ he says, and today is no exception. We catch up on the time since last we heard from him, when he told us he was going to take some well-earned time off and try to focus on writing new music; he continues to have difficulty with downtime unfortunately. Oh Liam, I do wish it were easier for you to take a break! He says, “I stopped working and I had a full, proper month off [and that was] really hard. And it was all a bit dark for me for a little bit... not being able to go anywhere, not being able to do anything. It really, really hit home. And I just found myself sat in the same place day in, day out. And I was like, okay, I really do not know what to do with myself” and “for me, learning to relax has always been quite a hard thing to do because I feel like if I'm not moving forward, then I must be going backwards.” He goes on to say “so, in a way it's kind of a blessing in disguise, as this has all kind of taught me to relax a little bit more. And to not be so worried about that, like the world is not going to fall over if I don't do something today,” and I wish I believed him, but that’s Liam’s way, to be like oh I need to add something upbeat and end on a cheerful note! So IDK. He also talks about drinking too much, at the beginning of lockdown especially, and how he’s dealt with it by getting back to working out and dieting. There’s nothing there that he hasn’t talked about before (he’s publicly addressed both his struggles with alcohol dependency and has talked a lot about his disordered eating though he hasn’t himself named it that) but after publication Glamour edited the piece to omit the part about his drinking-- I’m guessing the augmented reality app people didn’t feel it fit their ideal image (sigh). What that leaves is him saying how nice it was to be able to eat what he wanted during lockdown but that having the boundaries and rules in place of restricting his food again has made him feel better about himself, which if you ask me is still plenty distressing. Oh Liam :( <I’ve never wanted to hug someone so bad/ Spongebob meme> On a slightly more cheerful note, he tells us he feels supported and heard by a manager that he’s close to, and by Louis, and that those relationships are good for him (the interviewer does ask about Bear, but financee Maya is not mentioned even once in this article). The piece ends with a startling response to a comment about his upcoming performance: “I'll see you wherever you want me in your house, I guess.”

Niall posted about his Masters (golf) fantasy league and he was seen out and about! He was photographed in London driving a car the size of a house and on the street carrying one of his dozens of different reusable water bottles, with his hair floppy and down- is it a new haircut or just unstyled??- and shorts and little roundish shades. Hello Neil! There was a rumored sighting of Harry in London as well but no pics and like we know he’s there anyway so… shrug. And iHeart award nominations are up, and they’re pitting louies against harries, ouch. Will it be nasty (well when isn’t it even without this voted category, sigh), or will the louies simply steamroller everyone as per usual? Only time will tell, but if so harries can console themselves with their likely wins in the Male Artist of the Year, Best Lyrics (Adore You), and Song of the Year (WS) categories.

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azazelsconfessional · 3 years

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((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))

#ooc #((anyway i'm gonna open the askbox and crawl into a hole))#((i got nothing done lol i was so engaged with something else all week))

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ixellent · 3 years

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Making a little collection post about these things that have helped me since the supply chain got fucked up really bad and also just in general! A lot of these are YT videos but some have supplementals I’ve added. DON’T WAIT until you need something to learn how to do it if you can avoid it. But this is not a list of “apocalyptic how-to’s”, we aren’t learning to make paper from scratch or sew our own clothes, we can’t all can our own veggies (and canning materials are short anyway), this is a list of depression-era-style fixes and right-to-repair concepts!

I know a lot of people who just can’t be assed to fix anything and that’s fine because then I get to have it and I do want to fix it.

Bonus Negotiating tip for "getting to yes” on FB marketplace: say “thanks in advance, God bless” at the end of your initial message. Don’t forget to capitalize God. 😉 ● How to Darn Socks by Last Minute Laura - I want to add to this that it’s okay if you don’t do this perfectly or if it seems ugly when you’re finished, it’s probably still going to work fine! Embroidery needles and thread (sometimes in the form of a kit) are EASY to find at thrift stores, and especially used art supply stores. Related: 50 Hand Embroidery Stitches by Handiworks ● Simple Guide to Electronic Components and Soldering Basics by BigClive - Soldering is so so so handy to have some basic knowledge and skill in. I use it to do Gameboy mod kits but it also helped me feel confident in replacing little burnt out fuses, capacitors, etc. If I could have found a replacement relay I would have fixed my kettle! Pick up a multimeter if you can! Learn to use it! Related: Soldering Is Easy comic by MightyOhm, and pretty much any Nintendo repair video, I recommend starting out on doing a simple shell swap or a gameboy IPS kit and going from there when it comes to electronics. Do not do a Joycon shell or a DS first.

● How to Replace an iPhone SE Screen by JerryRigEverything - There are a ton of videos or written tutorials for almost models of devices. I put this not because no one has ever heard of replacing your phone screen (lol) but because it is increasingly difficult to repair devices and with EXACTLY the right parts.You will often have to find your year model or even serial number and then do research on which parts are compatible/behave - usually someone will already have done the legwork so you’re like “aha this is the battery that will work in my 1st gen Paperwhite ereader”. Many phones and devices have pain in the ass adhesives so you “can’t” fix them. Do yourself a favor and get a good, plastic safe spudger and prying tools. Related: iFixit kits which are better than ever, Jailbreaking with Hexxa Plus ● Fix a KitchenAid Mixer that isn’t Spinning by ereplacementparts - I bring in this one because sometimes a scary, seemingly broken expensive item can be bought for very little and fixed very easily. There’s a YT video for like EVERYTHING. You will quickly learn to recognize how things GET broken and what their most likely problem is. I buy “untested” vintage point and shoot cameras all the time and usually they literally just need a new battery lol. Lots of things just need cleaned or need new grease or something, or have a broken trace/burnt fuse/broken plastics etc. See Soldering above. ● Oil Change on a TW200 by tdubskid - This is just to stand in as an example of some regular maintenance and familiarity with your vehicles. Not everything is as easy as a good ol’ Tdub but it’s worth getting the owner’s AND service manual for your vehicles so you can at least take care of it well so that it needs LESS maintenance and know when it is need of maintenance and how urgent it is even if you cannot perform it yourself. Plus, again, tons of YT videos and forum threads. Note: I highly recommend that if your vehicle is under warranty of any kind you don’t do your own oil changes/service or get service anywhere except certified dealerships until that warranty expires. Related: How to Change a Tire (plus jacking it up) by Chrisfix (this is a great full walkthrough! I KNOW most people have never done this - and check your spare once in awhile too)

● Learn to use hand tools and power tools safely. Go ask a family member or a friend to show you how to use them, I’m sure anyone who has them would LOVE to help you and show you what they’re working on. Get a manual impact philips screwdriver and a regular old rubber mallet and thank me later. See if someone’s grandpa is getting rid of their extra wrenches and sockets. Pick up cheap name brand power tools and their accompanying (watch the voltage) batteries and chargers when you can. People will act like you have to “pick a system” and have all one brand but who gives a fuck dude, I don’t. Get a little metal/wood hacksaw and a metal/wood file. Get safety goggles and some coated grip work gloves. Get a cheap soldering iron and some lead-free solder wire (and a fan lol.) Get a set of torx bits/drivers. Don’t be afraid to ask people how to do things. Give away or sell your tools when you don’t use them anymore. Last one but this is very important: Put stickers all over your toolboxes!

#tutorial list #helpful list #tools #how to #collection post #now someone do one for computers please #I am bad at taking care of my PC because this is the first time I've had one lol

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arofili · 4 years

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how’d u get into writing? like, writing fic and being part of the silm community, being Known, that stuff? i’m really new to being a silm cc and i’d love to know ur advice! also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs? bc i have a Lot of hcs and meta ideas but also i’m really anxious abt posting them bc yknow anxiety is like that

these are some great questions, anon! I’m gonna go through them one by one :)

how’d u get into writing?

not to be like, super cliche, but I’ve...kind of always been a writer? as long as I can remember I’ve been telling stories, and when I was too young to read or write I would dictate them to my mom, who would type them up for me and help me choose clipart illustrations to accompany them. when I got old enough I would always be writing; I attempted my first novel at age 9, and while that never really went anywhere I did finish the darn thing and it had some pretty sophisticated plot twists for a 9-year-old!

like, writing fic

around the same time I got into fandom! I was deep into Warrior cats (like. really deep) and I believe I started writing my first fics when I was like? 10 or 11? my memory is kind of fuzzy on the order of things, but I know I got an account on the Warriors forums when I was 9, and that I was already posting my fic there when I made my FFN account. I believe I was 12 when that happened, but who knows. I haven’t the faintest idea of what happened with those forums, but uhhh pretty much all of my Warriors fic is still up on FFN lmao. you could probably find that if you want to but um...maybe don’t?

my first Big Fic was a self-insert of...my entire 5th/6th grade class into the then-current timeline of the Warriors books...well. I honestly think that might still be my most popular fic of all time l m a o though I try not to think about it because Hashtag Cringe. though as much as I look back on that time with a “yikes,” I am very grateful for the Warriors fandom in a way? that place was so accepting and encouraging of OCs, of AUs, of completely disregarding canon, of worldbuilding that is completely alien from canon - it was a fantastic sandbox to begin with, there were so many ways to write stories and practically all of them were accepted and had fellow fans invested in them!

and being part of the silm community,

soooo I wrote Warriors fic until my freshman year of high school (wow sdjfhkdsjfh), which was when BOTFA came out, and I was absolutely wrecked by the ending and immediately started writing my own fixit fic. I was also super hooked on Kiliel! so that was my intro to the Tolkien fandom; and simultaneously, I joined tumblr, and, well, the rest is history tbh.

I honestly do not remember when I first read the Silm, but I kind of got into the more obscure parts of the Tolkien fandom through fandom osmosis, and I do have a vague memory of doodling the Finwean family tree in geometry class so it might have been later on in freshman year? that was also the same time I was having my Queer Awakening, and Russingon definitely contributed to me unlearning my internalized queerphobia, so probably around then.

anyway - queer awakening, tumblr, Tolkien, transitioning from FFN to AO3 - all of that was happening around the same time. I know I dipped my toes in the Silm fandom then, but I was still primarily a Hobbit fic writer focusing on Kiliel. toward the end of high school I kind of shifted to LOTR and (qp) Gigolas...but somehow the Silm fandom is the most active of the Big Three within the Tolkien fandom, and I was getting dragged further and further in.

it wasn’t until @backtomiddleearthmonth 2019, my freshman year of college, that I really dove into writing Silm fic! I picked some Silm-specific bingo cards and never looked back :D that was really not all that long ago but I am obsessed in a way I don’t really remember being even with TH/LOTR, I obviously cannot see the future but I anticipate hanging out here for a long time. the Silm fandom is great overall and there’s just so much material to work with!! <3

being Known, that stuff?

so I don’t really have a whole lot of context on how “well known” I am in the fandom?? definitely within the past year and a half or so I’ve noticed that I like, get asks like this, and get a significant amount of notes on my posts, and I’ve made a lot of fandom friends especially since I joined some Silm servers on Discord (hmu if you want invites; I’m on the SWG server and 2 general Silm servers and the Russingon server) this past year. and I have 3,000 followers as of this month - and while ever since I hit 1k I don’t particularly pay attention to my follower count I can definitely say that I have more engagement now than I used to! but it took me a long time to build this “audience,” I suppose; I’ve been around the Tolkien fandom since late 2014, so nearly 6 years of this, lol.

really the best way to build a following, in my experience, is to just post a lot of stuff. when I started making edits I got a lot more engagement, because for a long time I would post one every day! (I made them in batches and queued them; I didn’t actually make one every day lol...and now I’m too busy to do that, so I just make edits for events and whenever I feel like it) And I have [checks ao3] 145 works in the Silm fandom as of today - I’m fairly prolific! I’ve come to generally expect 3-10 comments on most of my oneshots, which is a lot more than I used to have back in the day. consistency and quantity are more likely to attract people to your work - and quality, of course.

also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs?

I’ve been writing since I was very young, and I’ve been writing fic for like...11 years? I think? in that time I’ve produced a lot of garbage, but imo most of that was in my Warrior cats phase, so I came into the Tolkien fandom with confidence in myself and my writing. I’m also working on original fiction on the side (I hope to eventually become a published fantasy author, but right now school takes up most of my time that I don’t devote to fandom, which gives me more immediate gratification and also is just Very Fun) and I know I’m a good writer.

basically, I’ve been doing this for like...half my life, and I’m still fairly young, so I’ve had time to build up my skill and confidence and I know I’m only going to get better with time. you will get better with practice. like I said, I’ve written a lot of terrible stuff, and it’s only through sucking for a long time that I’ve gotten to the point I am now. and I am far from perfect; I know I still have lots of room to grow!

for meta and headcanons specifically, I started with writing fic, and then when I didn’t think I could stretch something into an entire fic I would just make a hc post. I have a vivid memory of writing my first meta in a notebook during driver’s ed because it was so goddamn boring and I had Thoughts about Tauriel and Thranduil!

in my experience, meta comes from having Opinions and wanting to share them and most importantly to back them up - you need to have sources! you need to have reasons! you need to have justification! otherwise it’s not meta, it’s a headcanon or an AU. which is fine!! I love hc/AU!!! but they are not the same as meta, and I’m a stickler for being accurate when it comes to meta. if you have sources and shit to back you up, that will help you build the confidence to share your meta.

sharing disinformation and passing it off as meta instead of just coming out and saying this is a headcanon/baseless theory/AU or whatever is such a fandom pet peeve of mine; it’s not bad for something to not be Accurate! you just have to have that disclaimer - and even when you’re writing meta, you’re offering an interpretation of the text, and you need to acknowledge that other interpretations also exist and are valid.

um. I hope this answers your questions? and sorry for basically word-vomiting my entire life story, lol. this post got long; the main reason I’ve written so much fic is because I really just cannot shut up for the life of me. sooo if you can tear of that filter of being shy and just. say shit. you can go so far~!

OH and one more thing - I can’t believe I almost forgot this - but part of being a writer is participating in the community. this is code for LEAVE A DAMN COMMENT IF YOU LIKE A FIC. that’s how I made most of my fandom friends before Discord! I follow @ao3feed-silmarillion and stalk that blog for new Silm fics; I read the ones that interest me and comment on them.

I know this is not really the most common way for folks to find fic but it’s so rewarding to interact with new fic, new writers, new commentors, new stories - you can find gems that don’t rise to the top of the kudos/bookmark lists; you become friends with your fellow writers; you can watch people grow and change; you support smaller content creators. yeah, you might not be getting Just The Best Stuff, but it’s so so so worth it!!

and if you make friends in the comment section of other people’s fic - I guarantee you some of them will go to your AO3 profile and check out your fic, too! and they’ll leave comments! this is a fic community, and that’s what I cherish about fandom most of all, tbh.

anyway - again - sorry for rambling so much, but I hoped this helped! feel free to send in another ask, or to come talk to me off anon if you’d like! and definitely send me your stuff if/when you decide to share it; I would love to support you!!! <3

#silm #silm fandom #silmarillion #fan culture #tmi anna #(for real this time sjdfhdkfh)#tefain nin #long post #anon #answers

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katherinewilliams221b · 3 years

Text

For A Greater Good Fun Facts and Self Assesment (spoilers)

Long Post

What worked and what didn’t:

I think the overall structure worked pretty well. The most difficult part was, with the plot and subplot already created, scattering all those ideas throughout the text in such a way that at least made some sense. I regret not writing more about Mer Yankelevich, I feel like the crumbs I left on the way were not enough; in my attempt to make it subtle it lacked information about her. The key piece was of course her sister, and I should have introduced her sooner.

MC’s evolution. I feel like Kate’s learnt a lot with this experience (I’m not only referring to the Deathly Hallows or Grindelwald) When it started, she was very discreet and kept a low profile, not knowing what to do really, not taking more risks than necessary. And then she ended poisoned and splinching just to protect a document she thought was important. I hope her evolution is noticeable for the reader.

Worldbuilding. Grabbing HP concepts that were forgotten and full of potential, plus a dash of original ideas from me and blending them with muggle features was my absolute favourite part of the process.

On that note, I dont own these concepts: Durmstrang, Igor Karkarov, Nerida Vulchanova, umbrella flowers, fanged geraniums, billywigs, Appare Vestigium, glow-worms, trick wand, chamaleon ghouls,

If you’ve read the fic and thought: “everything happened so fast” or got a general odd feeling about the timeline it's because I made a series of monumental mistakes: setting a chapter limit, telling you about it and then tried to stick to it. At first the idea sounded nice: this is my first “big” story with complicated components. I should (and I did) do an outline of what I want to happen in each chapter and stick to it methodically so I don't forget what's happening or lose track of the plot. Well...it kind of backfired. So I wrote the first 3 chapters and at that point I thought “okay everything is going as planned, I’m going to put it out there”, bam, instantly cursed. After that it got ridiculously difficult to make the story that I wanted. Why? I needed chapter space that I convinced myself I couldn’t add. Dumb.

The major consequence of this was the lack of character backgrounds. It started out good, but as I kept writing and publishing I realised that I missed some great opportunities to make amazing ocs. That’s Corentin’s fault in a way: he wasn't going to be a major character, really, just a piece to help Kate a bit. But we all fell in love with him so what was I supposed to do? Also, Sheyi Mawut owns my heart and he got just a bit of spotlight. A shame.

I wish I had written more about them, but I think I wasn’t ready just yet to make it even more complicated.I just wanted to prove I could concoct a mystery plot and now that I know I can manage a fair amount of information I think I can take it a step further and deepen new ocs a little bit more.

I’m thinking about the datura series and I know why I got blocked and tired of writing it; it wasnt going anywhere because I wasnt prepared, and I didn’t do the months of outlines and planning that I did with this one. I’ll come back to the datura story one day, subjecting it to a sever rewrite. The ideas are there, I just need to be organised.

Although the chapter limit was problematic it was also a good exercise of managing space and deciding which things were unnecessary for the story. I dont think there’s any filler chapters, perhaps the last ones, but there is important information there too so... However this sentence from the blog wordsandstuff reassured me (and I think I did a good job at that?)

If you set out to write 10 parts and you write a fantastic story in 8, you haven’t failed and it’s not too rushed. Concise writing is an underrated talent. Focus on how effectively you engage the reader, not for how long.

I spent more than year writing this! When I started, I had a lot of ideas, I wrote the last two chapters then the first 3 and I really thought it was going to be that way with the rest of the story... okay... lesson learnt. #humbled

Other thoughts:

I received a couple of comments on ao3 that said that they were pleasantly surprised. Maybe I should change the tags because they are misleading? Clearly this wasnt what people were looking for lol.

One particular comment stood out to me and quoting it said: “You did not choose the easy way with a fiction with so few characters from the fandom.” And I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. It didn’t occur to me that there were few mystery fics (maybe I should write more things like that? Maybe throwing some power couple detective work 👀 ) In any case, I’m glad I contributed with something different to the fandom, and the fact that the Charlie bits are very scarce but people who read it still liked it is really flattering.

I wanted to make sure that all the characters had strengths and flaws, I didnt want to severus-snape them so maybe I overdid it with that bit of introspection kate does at the end...

Also, I did the kiss and fade thing twice to mention sex. I know some people dont like that but since it wasnt the point of the story and I havent done research on how to write sex scenes I didnt include them. I have that on my “to learn” list.

Conclusions:

Writing the whole thing was incredible. It's my first ‘big’ project and its not a great work (there are some things I wish I did better, thats what you get when you are an agatha christie wannabe) and not writing more character backgrounds will haunt me to this day, but I think it's at least good for a first series and I’m proud of it. I loved spending hours doing research and trying to piece together this puzzle. And of course I’m not an expert and I dont want to sound pretentious (like this is my first story) but if you are planning to write this type of genre I can be another source of tips and tricks for you.

If I read the story after a while and I dont cringe, I would call that a success.

FUN? FACTS!

Bakunawa really belongs to Filippines mythology

Snapdragons have different meanings, one of them being: “grace under pressure or inner strength in trying circumstances”

The entrance to Grindelwald’s room was going to be in the duelling classroom, strangely shaped as a triangle. I had this system where one of the round candle lamps descended and lined up with a line on the floor (serving as separation for duels) it created the Deathly Hallows symbol. I couldn’t make that work because it wouldn't make any sense for Nerida Vulchanova to shape a room like that. Here are some sketches:

Lucius Malfoy was going to appear as the Ministry employee that goes to Durmstrang, but after revising the events of the OoP I realised it was impossible.

Kent Jorgensen was going to be around Kate’s age and the charms teacher and he would have a small crush on her. After seeing some pics of Pen Medina, I rewrote the character completely.

The series was going to be 6 chapters long (I’m glad I decided not to) one for each month. The chapter names were ridiculous: January of Beginnings, February of reputation, March of Students, April of Discoveries, May I? and June of Endings. #tragic

The Dolohov family was going to be a part of the plot but I had to erase that part because it was unlocking another layer of complexity that I just couldnt handle.

I dont remember exactly the chapter but I got really confused with the names Rhode and Hodges and there’s one chapter where I accidentally mixed them (I corrected it I think), but for a while I could stop calling Rhode, Hodges, and vice versa lmao

Here are some sketches that helped me describe and imagine things

Thank you for accompany me in this journey, especially if you endured the process with me lmao. You’ve been here for over A YEAR! <3 Mindblowing

Also I’d love to know your opinions about the way you read the story, I mean, I know some people read it as I published, and some other readers found the story already finished, what are the differences? Should I stop the updating system and drop a story all at once? I know it is difficult to keep up with a complex story if there’s a lot of weekly or monthly gaps between the chapters, so I wanted to know.

Sending you a virtual hug 💜💜

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theoriginalladya · 3 years

Note

December Challenge #13 Confessions for Lachlen/Kaidan

from this prompt list

On AO3 here

Thank you so much for this!!! This one is set post-War and they’re still in Scotland. Enjoy!!!

(under cut because, as usual, it got looooooooooong! lol)

~~~

“I have a confession to make.”

The rug in front of the fireplace has become their evening ritual. Every night for the three months they have been in Scotland, Lachlan lies with his head pillowed on his good arm, staring into the burning blaze in the fireplace while Kaidan works the kinks out of the aching and still healing muscles and scar tissue of his hips and shoulders. He knows full well he could be suffering from worse things, has in the past at times, but like most nights, he is nearly asleep, the last bit of consciousness hanging by a thread. Still, Kaidan’s words are enough to startle him back to full awareness.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Lachlan pushes himself up enough to glance back over his shoulder. Around a yawn and in a raspy voice, he asks, “What?”

Whiskey-amber eyes meet blue with a hint of mischief. A flutter of unease works through him, and in that moment, Lachlan knows he’s been had. “You bloody eejit!” he hisses, then flops to the floor once more, muttering beneath his breath.

“What?” Kaidan leans forward and presses a kiss to the tattoo between his shoulder blades, murmuring, “I do, you know.”

Lachlan huffs. “Like hell! That glint in your eyes says otherwise.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Another yawn sneaks in, encouraged as Kaidan’s hands still work around his bad hip. “I believe,” Lachlan says after the yawn passes, “you’re attempting to … what’s the expression? Pull my leg?”

Kaidan snorts softly and sits back. “Now there’s an idea.”

Lachlan rolls his eyes, cautiously using his prosthetic hand to scratch the side of his nose. It’s … strange to get used to and an even bigger challenge to get used to when playing his cello; but given the widespread destruction as a result of the war, even he, the Savior of the Galaxy, has to wait his turn for a cloned limb to be grown as a replacement. This, at least, is something to help him get by. Thankfully, the fingers have some semblance of individual mobility, but he learned early on not to take things too quickly lest he poke his eye out in the process.

His thoughts get interrupted when Kaidan’s hand wraps around his left ankle and tugs. Hard. “What the …?” He rolls onto his hip, sitting up fully this time as he bats the prosthetic arm at the man. “What is with you, tonight?”

“I told you; I have a confession to make.” Kaidan sits beside him again as he uses a towel to clean off his hands. His tone becomes more somber as he adds, “Kind of an important one, too.”

A flutter in Lachlan’s chest reminds him of a swarm of butterflies and his breath hitches. Gulping, he stares at Kaidan. “You … this isn’t going to be like that time on Arcturus, is it?” he asks, the hint of worry and hesitation clear in his tone.

Kaidan frowns. “Which time?”

“When you made me think you wanted nothing more to do with me and then you turned around and proposed instead.”

Kaidan sighs heavily and leans forward until their foreheads touch lightly. “No, this isn’t anything like that.” Before pulling back, he ghosts a quick, reassuring kiss across Lachlan’s lips. “I promise. Now lie down so I can finish, hmm?”

The kiss doesn’t last long enough as far as Lachlan is concerned, but he lies back on the floor without protest. As Kaidan’s hands move to his lower back, gently massaging up his spine, he asks, “Well, what is it?”

“What is what?”

Lachlan groans. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?”

Kaidan laughs at the accusation, taking the opportunity to work a particularly tight section of Lachlan’s shoulder area with a bit more enthusiasm than is strictly necessary. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“What?” He starts to sit up again, but gets pushed right back down before he can even prop his elbows beneath him and gain leverage.

“I’m never going to finish this if you don’t hold still.”

Lachlan mutters some more beneath his breath, settles back down, and finishes with, “Don’t think for one moment I don’t know that you’re doing this on purpose!”

“Doing what?”

“That!”

Kaidan’s lips twitch. “What exactly do you mean by ‘that?’”

Instead of sitting up this time, Lachlan rolls onto his right shoulder and uses his good left arm to grab the collar of his husband’s shirt and tug him down close. “Acting all cagey like.” Since he has him close and Kaidan isn’t fighting to break away, Lachlan kisses him thoroughly before he releases him. There are times when Kaidan likes to tease him; Lachlan knows this well, and in all honestly enjoys it as much as the other man does. But tonight, it’s bordering on the nonsensical, and it’s driving him insane.

“Okay,” he murmurs, rolling over so he can slide both arms around Kaidan’s shoulders, “so, this confession?”

“Mmmm.” The laughter is still there, but gets lost between them for several minutes. “Confession?” he mumbles as he breaks the kiss. “What confession?”

Sighing, Lachlan’s head falls back to the rug with a soft thump. “You, sir, are a menace.”

Kaidan swoops back in for another kiss; Lachlan ducks to the side to avoid it, but Kaidan ends up connecting with his cheek instead before shifting to lie on the floor beside him. He loops an arm around Lachlan’s waist, laughing softly as he snuggles against his back, bringing his chin up on his shoulder. “So, do you remember how last year for our anniversary, I told you the gift I had for you would have to wait?”

Lachlan freezes a moment in panic, calming once he realizes they aren’t anywhere near their anniversary on the calendar. As it then bleeds out, leaving him just a bit weak in the knees, he replies, “You said you left it at the apartment?” Which, realistically means it was destroyed when Arcturus Station was destroyed at the beginning of the war.

“Mmm,” Kaidan agrees. “Well, I think I’ve found a replacement gift for you.”

Lachlan’s chest tightens; every time he turns around, especially of late, he finds yet another reason to love this man even more than he does after all these years. Last year was their tenth anniversary, unless you didn’t count the two years he was dead, and Kaidan had been disappointed how things had played out. Lachlan, of course, reassured him at the time, just as he does now. “I have you, I don’t need anything else.”

“Not true, and you know it,” Kaidan insists. He pushes to his feet, grabs the towel and takes a moment to wipe off remnants of the lotion he’d used on Lachlan’s shoulders before handing his partner his shirt.

Lachlan manages to tug the t-shirt on with minimal effort now – it’s taken time to learn how to do that, but with Kaidan’s help and practice over the past ten months, it comes easier each time. He accepts the hand Kaidan offers to help him to his feet. “Kaid, what’s going on?”

“You’ll see in a minute – .” A soft beep at Kaidan’s wrist cuts him off. “Or, right now, I guess.” The twinkle returns to his eyes as he grins and squeezes Lachlan’s hand. “Trust me?”

Lachlan squeezes back, even though he is thoroughly confused. “Haven’t I always?”

“Stay here.” Kaidan heads over to the door to their rented house and opens it. The chill of the winter air gusts inside almost immediately, and Lachlan cannot stop a soft giggle when the blast is accompanied by a burst of snowflakes that settle over Kaidan’s dark hair. “Going a bit grey there, don’t you think, Alenko?”

Kaidan chuckles. “No thanks to you!”

It takes a few minutes for the chill to start actively fighting against the warmth in the room, but even Lachlan notices the temperature dropping after a bit. While Kaidan continues to wait, his attention focused beyond the door, Lachlan nabs his N7 hoodie and tugs it on, complaining, “Just remember, you’re the only Canadian of the group, all right?”

“What’s the matter, Shepard? Can’t stand the cold?”

“Not without my armor, no.”

The door creaks a little as Kaidan pushes it open further just as Lachlan turns back toward him. Lachlan opens his mouth to add onto that comment but finds he has no voice nor breath as a familiar towheaded face steps inside the house. Unable to move, eyes widening with each second that passes, Lachlan’s heart lurches inside his chest. “Iain?” he croaks.

The younger Shepard is thinner than he recalls, perhaps a bit frailer than the last time they saw one another well over a year before, but Iain still manages to lunge toward his brother. Lachlan grasps him tightly, holding him in a fierce hug. Only when he releases him some moments later, wiping a few tears from his eyes, does he notice the other new arrival. “Coats? You … you found him?”

The dark haired man nods. “Took a while,” he admits with a rueful smile, “searched damn near every hospital in England for him, but … yeah.” Coats’ gaze drifts back and forth between the two brothers. “You Shepards are a stubborn lot, I’ll give you that much.”

Iain grins back at the man. “Just gives you a long term goal, Paddington.” He turns back to his brother, eyeing him a bit more closely now. Cautiously, he reaches out and touches the prosthetic hand. “Can you … can you play, Lach?”

Using his good arm, Lachlan pulls Iain back in for another hug. “Aye. It’s a bit complicated at the moment, but it works for now, don’t you worry.” This time when he releases the younger man, Kaidan and Coats have joined them. “So,” he says to his husband, “this is your confession, is it?”

Kaidan grins. “The confession was that I found a replacement present,” he corrects. “Think it’s worth it?”

Lachlan smiles. “Most definitely worth it.”

#December Writing Challenge #ladya writes #Lachlan Shepard #mshenko #Kaidan Alenko #OTP: The Music Lives On #Iain Shepard #Major Coats #mass effect fanfiction #when the muses attack #thank you so much!#mallaidhsomo

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robotslenderman · 4 years

Text

OTP Meme

Yoinked from @aelwen.

Starting off with my Super Problematic Arturo/Olivia, will probably do the same quiz with other ships as well.

For those who are not aware: Arturo kidnapped Olivia at the end of CoNY while trying to figure out what to do with her and ended up keeping her around, and she’s blood bound to him (for non VTM fans, that’s basically a love potion). So yeah, there’s a huge power imbalance and a drug-induced Stockholm Syndrome here, and one half is a megalomaniac. There is a shitton of dubcon.

You have been warned.

DISAGREEMENTS.

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

Arturo, but like, that’s not saying much. I can see him only raising his voice when he’s pushed almost to his limit and even then only to say something like “DON’T INTERRUPT” when he’s in a monologue or a “NO” to cut someone else off.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

Neither of them.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

OLIVIA LOL. Arturo has known she’s been wanting out since the beginning but the blood bond kept her compliant until Qadir and her Coterie finally got their shit together and busted her out. Arturo may have gone completely apeshit trying to get her back but then once he knew the blood bond had timed out, gave it up and let her go.

Who trashes the house?

Neither of them. Toreadors do not trash their own house and Olivia too desperately wants to please Arturo to get messy even if that was her style.

Plus, you know, they have ghouls to clean up after them.

Do either of them get physical?

ngl for the first few months Olivia keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop on that, since Arturo absolutely bitchslapped Sophie at the end of CoNY, but after a while she realises he’s not typically violent and calms down.

How often do they argue/disagree?

Almost never, due to the blood bond. Olivia occasionally pushes it, but never goes too far (by Arturo’s standards). She’s too chemically wired to want to please him to full out disagree or argue.

Who is the first to apologize?

Olivia, for obvious reasons. Arturo does apologise from time to time, but rarely, and usually accompanied with an eyeroll inducing monologue pontificating about something or other. (Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, the monologue itself is not an apology.)

SEX.

(Headcanon interlude -- vampire sex is basically blood drinking, whether mutual or not, given how aroused both drinker and drinkee become. They can have “human” sex with blush of life, but it’s not nearly as satisfying without the blood drinking. So yeah keep in mind I’m not talking about human sex here, even though there might be some of that accompanying the blood drinking.)

Who is on top? Who is on bottom?

Olivia on top. Kind of hard to suck the blood from someone’s throat if you’re on the bottom.

Any kinks?

They’re vampires, what do you think?

Who has the strangest desires?

Arturo thinks he’s weird as shit for enjoying it when she cuddles up to him lmfao.

Who’s dominant in bed?

Arturo, despite positions.

Is head ever in the equation?

Nope. Although I’m sure if Arturo managed to get her back when she escaped he might’ve been relieved enough to do it.

If so, who is better at performing it?

N/A

Ever had sex in public?

He never lets her out, so no.

Although... he does have ghouls, and he treats them like he’d treat a portrait on the wall. Olivia is often mortified by the stuff she’ll do in front of them when the blood bond’s at full strength.

Who moans the most?

Definitely Arturo. It’s vampire sex, Olivia’s too busy drinking blood to make noise.

Who leaves the most marks?

Neither, they heal too quickly.

Who is the more experienced of the two?

With mortal sex it sort of balances out -- Arturo was apparently a canonical playboy when he was alive, but obviously that stopped forty years ago so that evens out there. With Olivia, she’s slept with a few people but got too wrapped up in work towards the end of her life to have a sex life.

Plus, Vampire Sex Is Different, as I’ve said a million times already, so... they’re not blushing virgins but neither of them are at a level where you can say either of them is more experienced than the other. Sure, Arturo has Panhard drinking from him too, but in my headcanon her drinking from his wrist is not sexual even by vampire standards. Olivia was the first he let bite from his neck.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

I think there’s far more emotion in it than Arturo is ever willing to admit.

How long do they usually last?

As long as Olivia can draw it out without diablerising him, lmao. He does get into the habit of keeping himself topped up for her when it gets sexual though.

In human-sex terms, well... vampires have way more stamina than humans. But again, not as satisfying, so they tend to leave that for when Arturo’s low on vitae or when he has a few hours free (which isn’t often).

Rough or soft?

Soft. Unless Arturo’s been to visit Panhard or Adelaide. Olivia gets bitey when she’s jealous and Arturo finds it endearing.

Is protection used?

Really?

Does it ever get boring?

By mortal standards, certainly. But drinking/being drunk from by a vampire feels so good that for them, no, it never gets boring.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

Anywhere the ghouls are working. Olivia dies inside a little once the post-nut clarity kicks in. The ghouls just GTFO and don’t make eye contact for a while.

Arturo doesn’t think of them as people...

FAMILY.

Do they plan on having children/or have children?

Jesus fucking Christ my blood ran cold just READING this question. Nope nope npoe NOPE. Even if they could have children, NOOOOOOO. GOD, NO. NOOOOO. NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE

As for childer? Vampires are single parents by nature, so they’re not raising any together. If anything, Arturo is seriously considering adopting Olivia as his childe by the time she GTFO’s.

(For non-VTM fans: I swear that is not as fucked up as it looks. “Childe” = vampire who hasn’t been a vampire for long. It’s a mentor/mentee relationship, not a parent/child relationship, despite the terminology. Vampires seem to be way more likely to have romantic/sexual entanglements with sires/childer than anyone else because of the power imbalance and how fucking dangerous it is to get involved with a vampire on your level. Why yes creatures who drink blood from humans are fucked up, what tipped you off?)

If so, how many children do they want/have?

I’m charging you for my therapy bills.

AFFECTION.

Who likes to cuddle?

Goes without saying that the blood bond makes Olivia a cuddle slut, but Arturo enjoys it way more than he is willing to admit.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Arturoooo. Those poor fucking ghouls.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves?

Arturo.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

They’re vampires.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

Arturo is a slut for headscritches.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

The sofas near the windows overlooking New York.

SLEEPING.

Who snores?

They’re vamps, they literally sleep like they’re dead. VTM vampires are easily mistaken for corpses unless you know what to look for, such as the fact they don’t stink and that insects and scavengers aren’t helping themselves.

My headcanon is that younger and higher humanity vampires sleep more akin to something like humans, and so younger vampires like Olivia might sometimes wake during the day (altho quickly pass out again), move in their sleep, or dream, or accidentally use blush of life. Closest she comes to snoring is by accidentally using blush of life in her sleep and therefore breathing.

If both do, who snores the loudest?

N/A

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

Sleep separately, up until the first attempt to bust Olivia out, at which point Arturo gets clingy and insists she sleeps next to him in his bed. It’s not like he’d wake up if any ghouls showed up to liberate her, but it makes him feel better.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

Cozy up.

What do they wear to bed?

Olivia is still in the habit of wearing PJs, but Arturo just wears whatever he was wearing that day.

Are either of them insomniacs?

No, it’s extremely difficult for vampires to stay awake when the sun comes up.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

Nope, they wouldn’t work.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

Depends on how clingy Arturo’s feeling that night.

Who wakes up with bed hair?

Both of them.

Who wakes up first?

They both wake up around the same time.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

Arturo will fucking murder any ghouls that bleed all over his bed, so neither.

What is their favourite sleeping position?

Arturo likes to cling to Olivia after the first liberation attempt.

Do they set an alarm each night?

No need.

Who has nightmares?

Olivia, due to her young age, is able to dream from time to time and therefore gets nightmares. After Arturo, she gets way more -- although that’s not because of any trauma from the Arturo incident (although she’s definitely spooked by it, the blood bond actually protected her from the trauma it would cause because of the nature of how trauma forms), but more because of the idea of oh god what if someone WORSE than him puts me under a blood bond?!

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

Arturo. Despises. Modern. Television.

Who has ridiculous dreams?

Olivia is the only one out of the two of them that dreams. For Arturo, being older and with lower humanity, it’s more akin to being put under anaesthesia.

Her dreams aren’t that ridiculous, though.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Olivia doesn’t sprawl, but she does move in her sleep so I suppose she’s closest.

Who makes the bed?

The ghouls.

What time is bed time?

Up to half an hour before dawn, depending on their mood and if they feel like just curling up and talking before they black out.

Any routines/rituals before bed?

Not really. Arturo likes to go over his schedule, have a sip from a ghoul, but that’s about it.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Arturo, if he’s dreading something that night.

WORK.

Who is the busiest?

Fucking Arturo is always running around feeding his one million ghouls and three blood bonded pets, and feeding himself to keep them under his control, and that’s not counting when he’s getting up to schemes or schmoozing in Elysium. Dude is pretty much out of the penthouse from dusk to dawn most of the week and when he’s at home actually working he’s shut up in his study.

Olivia? Bored out of her fucking mind at home binging on Netflix or books. After working 70+ hours a week when she was alive she is not used to having this much free time.

Who rakes in the highest income?

Arturo, obviously. Famous architect with a shitton of shady “associates”.

Are any of them unemployed?

Olivia.

Who takes the most sick days?

They don’t do sick days.

What are their jobs?

Arturo’s a Harpy, if that counts as a job (think vampire socialite), and also an architect.

Who sucks up to their boss?

Arturo is the boss, even if he pretends not to be at Elysium.

Olivia had to do a lot of sucking up in life. She does not miss that bit.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Arturo. He does what the fuck he wants.

Who stresses the most?

Believe it or not, Arturo. He’s got a lot of balls in the air and works hard to keep himself from dropping them. After Hope’s failed attempt at getting Olivia out, he gets even more stressed out.

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

Olivia does not miss her job but also doesn’t know who she is without it, now.

Arturo enjoys his job. He’s always enjoyed it, but after being Embraced he became completely obsessed with it.

Are they financially stable?

Yep. Famous architect who designs for both kindred and kine elites? Yeah.

HOME.

Who does the washing?

The ghouls.

Who takes out the trash?

Ghouls

Who does the ironing?

Ghouuuuls.

Who does the cooking?

Nobody, they just munch on a ghoul.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

I’m not shitting you when I say that Lucas, one of the ghouls, is most likely to try and sneakily cook something on Arturo’s never-used stovetop when he’s out and accidentally fuck it up in the process.

Who is messier?

Arturo, but that’s not saying much. He tends to pick up after himself if he doesn’t have to go out of his way to do it, and there’s ghouls to do the rest.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

My headcanon is that vampires do, in fact, pee because they need to get rid of metabolic waste somehow. So that’d be Olivia.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

Arturo, if it doesn’t upset the aesthetic of the room too much (fucking Toreadors). Olivia did start leaving her stuff around for the ghouls but it stressed out Arturo so she stopped.

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

Neither of them.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

Arturo usually takes the subway, but if the ghouls are driving him somewhere it’s definitely Lucas who fucks up the most.

Who answers the telephone?

They don’t have a landline. Olivia doesn’t have a phone.

Who mows the lawn?

They have a penthouse.

Who does the vacuuming?

The ghouls, usually Alex.

Who does the groceries?

Nobody, although the ghouls sometimes stash stuff in the fridge Arturo keeps for the aesthetic. It doesn’t bother him as long as they keep their shit put away.

Who takes the longest to shower?

Olivia likes to shower almost every day out of habit and because the warmth is soothing.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Arturo. This is the guy who wears glasses he doesn’t need because he likes the aesthetic. No way in hell he isn’t in there for ages preening himself.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Is money a problem?

Not at all.

How many cars do they own?

Arturo almost certainly has something fancy and hipstery that he barely uses.

What’s their song?

LMFAO sorry this question made me laugh my ass off because a PERFECT song appeared in my head immediately:

“Every Breath You Take” by the Police

but unironically, and with total awareness of the actual fucking meaning of the song.

Specifically, the cover in minor key. The really creepy one by Chase Holfeder.

(There is a reason, other than the blood bond, that Olivia hangs the fuck tight and waits for Qadir to get her out instead of making a break for it herself. And there’s a reason why she bolts to the other side of the country when the blood bond wears off. She ain’t taking any chances.)

Do they live in the city or in the country?

New York City, baby.

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Own it. It used to belong to Charlotte, Arturo’s sire. He got it when she carked it.

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

Arturo’s a Toreador so I see him as having a love/hate relationship with his surroundings depending on what they are at the moment.

As for Olivia, it’s fancier than she’s used to but mostly the cabin fever drives her crazy from time to time.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Arturo gets up to all kinds of shit -- Elysium schmoozing, bossing ghouls around, doing architecture/engineering work, researching, making deals with Kaiser, feeding Adelaide and Panhard...

Olivia? Mostly Netflix binging, hanging out with the ghouls, and wishing she could go out for a fucking walk or something.

Where did they first meet?

At Elysium. Arturo was one of the people she talked to that night. She said his glasses looked good on him when he was bitching about them. He said “you bet they do.”

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

Arturo tends to make less purchases but moves more money when he does.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

Neither of them, dear god.

Any mental issues?

what do you think

Arturo: I would be here all day.

Olivia: she actually winds up less traumatised than she thought she would once the blood bond wore off. The blood bond actually protected her in that way -- trauma needs fear to take root, even if it’s fear after the fact. So while she was very nervous in the first few months of captivity, once she realised Arturo wasn’t going to hurt her or anything she settled right down and isn’t scarred by that. She is scared that she’ll have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life, she is scared he’ll try to take her back, but she’s not scared of him, if that makes sense?

But the whole “wow, anyone could do this to me and they could be a lot worse than he ended up being”? Yeah, that fucking terrifies her, so she does end up with a lot of trauma around that afterwards. Yeah, she was a captive for a while, but... she ended up very, very lucky in who her captor was, and she knows it. Arturo didn’t go out of his way to be nice to her, but he wasn’t a complete asshole either. Worse he did (dubcon, captivity and blood bond aside) was snap at her every now and then and be self-absorbed.

She actually finds it pretty hard to deal with life after captivity because... well. There’s a lot worse than Arturo out there. She’s an orphan. Kindred are pretty fucking horrible and she doesn’t have Arturo protecting her any more.

Sometimes the gilded cage was way easier to deal with. Sometimes she really, really misses not having to fight for her survival. Sometimes she wants to go back. She often wants to go back.

So yeah -- there is some trauma there, just... not the trauma she expected to end up dealing with. She expected to feel violated and to hate the guy. She doesn’t. She didn’t expect to feel lost, scared and exposed without him. She does.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Olivia, not that she’d ever show it. Sometimes it’s just satisfying to watch the puppet master deal with tiny little wrenches in the works like that.

Who’s terrified of bugs?

Olivia hates them.

Who kills the spiders around the house?

Arturo rolls his eyes and gets a ghoul to do it.

Do they have any fears for their future?

Arturo, once he realised how attached he got to Olivia, was terrified of losing her.

Their favourite place?

They both like the couches in the haven that sit next to the huge windows that overlook the city.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

Every now and then a ghoul gets some really good vitae as a treat for Olivia.

(So yeah, neither.)

Who pays the bills?

Arturo.

Who’s the tallest?

Arturo.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Neither.

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Neither.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

Olivia sings under her breath when it’s just the ghouls around, but not loudly, and never in front of Arturo.

What do they tease each other about?

Ooof, Arturo likes to rub salt in the wound by calling her his little pet, but ofc blood bonded Olivia doesn’t feel hurt by that. It’s not until post-New York that she’s like “DUDE WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT???”

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

Arturo, naturally. I think it’s physically impossible for a Toreador not to cringe at someone’s clothing every now and then.

Who crushed first?

... Both? Sorta.

Olivia naturally had the blood bond, but Arturo was the first that actually caught genuine feelings.

Olivia did have some genuine fond feelings even after the blood bond wore off, but not enough that she let that stop her from GTFOing to LA.

Any alcohol or substance-related problems?

You mean, aside from Olivia’s literal addiction to Arturo’s blood? The one that compels her to have strong feelings for him to the point that even though she’s captive and could walk out the door at any time, she doesn’t?

Yeah, I’d say that’s a substance problem.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

Arturo, if he was desperate enough to feed on a drunk, but even then -- blood has a very low alcohol content compared to actual alcohol, and while I HC that vampires are sensitive enough to alcohol that they can get a buzz from drinking from someone drunk enough... it’s just a buzz.

Who swears the most?

Arturo.

#tumblr games #Olivia Martin #Thomas Arturo #I'm like the ONLY person in the Arturo tag lmao sorry #VTM

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infriga · 4 years

Text

Writer tag game

I was tagged by @novantinuum !

Author Name: I’m Infriga on tumblr but I go by Ppleater on AO3 because it’s a username I liked to use in the past lol.

Fandom(s) you write for: Steven Universe, Gravity Falls, and in the past I’ve also written one or two things for Red vs Blue, Gintama, Chuck, Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles, and SGA. Most of my older stuff is on FFN, where it will stay because it’s old and embarrassing lol. I want to write a One Piece fic some day but christ is it a hard fandom to write for. There are so many puzzle pieces and moving parts and layers to everything in the OP world that anything bigger than a oneshot is daunting. Also Luffy’s mind is an enigma so I can only imagine how difficult he’d be to write.

Where you post: AO3. I used to post on FFN years ago, but not anymore because let’s be honest, ffn kinda sucks in comparison.

Most popular one-shot: My RvB fic I guess. The long cliched title is Five Times Tucker Knew Church Was a Robot, And One Time He Forgot That Church Was Still Human. It’s not all that popular, but it got more attention than any of my older oneshots on FFN haha.

Most popular multi-chapter: My Gravity Falls fic about kid Stan and paranoid Ford, 1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back. It was my first multichapter fic, and boy was I floored by the response it got!

Favorite story you wrote: I’m really bad at picking favourites! I like both my GF fic 1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, and my Steven Universe fic Aid to Navigation at the moment. They’re both more recent fics and I feel like I’ve shown the most improvement in writing both of them, which is part of why i like them more, but I like them both for different reasons so I can’t really choose between them.

Story you were nervous to post: Man I’m nervous posting everything I write lol. I guess I tend to be more nervous about my hurt/comfort stuff for some reason? Especially the hurt parts. Like the chapter where Stan gets thrown down the stairs by Bill in my GF fic, or the upcoming chapter 5 in my SU fic. I really enjoy writing that sort of stuff, and I love reading it even more, so I’m always a little like >:3c but I can be a wee bit sensitive about stuff I get really into writing because I’m invested in it so I’m also a little like <:3c every time, you know? Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned by getting more involved in fandoms is that it can be worth it to just put stuff out there and own it even when I’m nervous about it, so I usually just force myself to press the post button before I can chicken out. It’s worked out pretty well for me so far.

How do you choose your titles? I’ve developed 2 main methods which, funnily enough, I used for my two recent multichapter fics.

Method 1 involves word play, such as using a pun or a saying that fits one of the themes of my fic, and I adjust it as needed it to match the story. I felt like the saying “1 step forward, 2 steps back” fit the whole portal confrontation in general, and Stan getting turned into a kid involves taking some pretty literal steps backwards, so I changed it to 20 years back to give it a de-aging spin and make it even more of a play on words. That one admittedly came pretty easy to me. I also came up with more puns,wordplay, and jokes for the chapter names to match.

Method 2 involves using symbolism. I like to figure out something I feel would be symbolic of my fic and I look for interesting and relevant terminology or topics related to whatever that symbol is. In Aid to Navigation I settled on lighthouses as the symbolic element because I felt it suited Steven’s character, since he lives on a beach, helps guide people, and literally glows. An aid to navigation is basically any structure that helps ships navigate on the ocean, which includes lighthouses in particular, and it felt really suitable for Steven’s character and the themes of the fic. Other terminology that popped up and caught my interest while looking into stuff related to lighthouses ended up serving as inspiration for the chapter names and some of the story progression.

Of course, sometimes a title just pops into my head automatically and I end up liking it right away, but that’s pretty rare lol.

How many of your stories are complete? 2 on AO3, my RvB oneshot and my GF fic, and an extra 7 oldy moldy ones on FFN which are all oneshots. I technically write more now than I used to, but while my word count has rised drastically the number of individual fics I’ve written isn’t too high yet. I just found I enjoy writing longer multichapter fics a lot.

In progress: Just Aid to Navigation at the moment. I’m the kind of person who usually likes to finish a writing project before moving to a new one.

Coming soon:

I’ve tried coming up with future projects but honestly it seems like I tend to just be sort of... Gripped with a sudden idea that just feels right. I always have tons of concepts I like, but most never actually become anything. Only a few strike me as something that I really want to turn into a story right away. I might make a series of connected oneshots for Aid to Navigation involving interactions and scenes that I couldn’t fit in due to there not being enough time to explore every character the way I wanted (like I wanted to write a scene with Lars and Steven for example, but it didn’t seem to fit anywhere), but beyond that I have no idea what I’ll end up writing.

Upcoming story you’re most excited to write: Do upcoming chapters of a current fic count? The chapters I felt most excited to write for Aid to Navigation are the next one which is already finished and awaiting the accompanying picture, titled “Red Sector”, and the following one after that, which will be titled “Leading Lights”. All I’ll say about them is that both types of lights serve as warnings.

Top five favorite authors:

I like so many damnit, it’s hard to choose!

I’ve loved everything I’ve read by @novantinuum

I’ve bookmarked a lot of GF fics by @impishnature

Same with @fanfoolishness and their SU fics

One Piece fics by @taizi are my favourites in the fandom

There’s probably more people I’m forgetting and if that’s the case I’m sorry and I love you all, but if anyone wants to see more authors I’ve read stuff by I have fic rec/fic recs/fanfic rec/fanfic recs tags (wish I could remember which one I use at a given time so I wasn’t so inconsistent about it otl. Someday when xkit is working again I’ll try to organise them better). Also I have like, 400+ bookmarks on AO3 that you can look through as well.

Tagging: Uh, I tag all the writers I mentioned above I guess, if they want to do it and if they haven’t done it already!

#tag meme #fic recs #writing #Steven Universe #Gravity Falls #I'm only gonna tag those two cause I aint tagging the rest of the stuff i've written for lol

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missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

The Color of You || Part II

PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: It was another mission Natasha was assigned to. Nothing she hasn’t done before. Same mission, different people. Sent undercover to investigate William Cain, suspect to funding terrorism and smuggling weaponry. Under the disguise of Natanya Rovinski, Natasha is ready for another routine mission. Until she met you, William’s fiancé.

Warnings: There are dark elements to this series. Also, smut later on.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Action

NOTE: I’ve been aggressively reading on color therapy & the psychology of color LOL You’re more than welcome to comment/reply to this post if you would like to be added to a tag list.

PART I

PART II of X

Count: 3715

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha was in the middle of her living room, looking over William’s profile again.

She spread out the photos provided to her before leaning back with her fingers holding her chin.

Natasha was still working on her plan.

Maria had helped her set up dedicated funds to her mission to use as his investor, but she needed more than that.

She needed more than just being a sponsor to him.

She needed to get into his inner circle.

Idly tapping her chin, Natasha’s thoughts wandered to you from the other night. The sight of you tucking your hair behind your ear and demure smile wouldn’t leave her mind.

How did someone like you end up with someone like William?

The sound of her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts.

Clint: How’s it going over there?

It was Clint texting her to check in on her. Again.

Nat: It’s fine. Stop texting me unless you’re dying.

Clint: ...Rude...

Natasha rolled her eyes with a light smile before looking at the clock. Sighing, she stood up to get prepared for tonight’s events.

William was hosting another event, but this time as part of his political campaign. He was hosting it in his home, so it was a big opportunity for Natasha to look around.

Her goal of the night was still to obviously information gather but to also take a look around in his home, and secure a personal invite over where there would be more one-on-one time.

It would also give her an opportunity to get to know you better as well. That night when she caught your eye from across the room, it was like an electrical bolt hitting her that you were more than just a trophy wife to William.

And when Natasha got that feeling, she was certainly always right.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“You know, this wouldn’t be so bad if you just imagine that you’re on fire and the building is collapsing.”

Natasha snorted as David took a sip from his drink.

“Tell us how you really feel,” she replied with a smirk.

Though she couldn’t blame him. God, she was bored out of her mind. The amount of old white men she had spoken to already this evening was already numbing her mind.

Natasha had arrived at an appropriate time, neither early nor too late. William had approached her within minutes of her arriving, driving her into a conversation about his campaign, and her thoughts. She had merely nodded her head at the time about his interesting policies, occasionally saying something that would suggest to him that she agreed or shared the same ideology.

When more guests started to pour in, William regarded her with his own smile, asking if she would be free sometime in the next couple of days to have lunch with him.

It was secured and almost entirely too easy.

Just as the right amount of guests came to keep William busy, she disappeared off to snoop around.

She checked the place from head to toe, every nook and cranny.

But she didn’t find anything suspicious, not even a book out of place. Everything was where it was meant to be.

And that was off to Natasha. It was like everything was staged to show what William wanted people to see, but Natasha saw that whatever William was hiding, she wouldn’t find it here.

“So,” David said, breaking Natasha out of her thoughts. “What did you think of William’s fiancé?”

“Have you met her?” Natasha asked in return, watching as David nodded once.

“Yes, I kind of want to ask her to blink twice if she’s being held against her will because there’s no way William managed to woo a girl like that.”

Natasha chuckled throatily, trying to contain the full burst of laughter that truly wanted to come out. She was coming to appreciate her time spent with David, a man who clearly shared many similar thoughts to her and had no problem saying them out loud.

“This party is as riveting as watching paint dry, and I think I’ve stayed my obligatory time, I’m going to head out? Are you staying?” David asked as he put his drink down against the bar, dusting his hands off.

“Just a little longer,” Natasha answered. It didn’t feel like she had gotten enough intel on anything other than whatever William was hiding was most likely off base. Not to even mention she hadn’t seen you tonight either.

“Alright,” David said, taking a step forward before turning to her. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, come to my estate and have lunch with me.”

Natasha raised her brow at David but nodded, bidding him goodbye as he left. For another 45 minutes, she made an effort to talk to more people at the party, easily being able to identify who would be sponsoring and donating to William’s campaign. There were a couple of men and women she made a mental note to look into more as they were clearly radicals.

After Natasha felt like she had done enough for the night, she made a move to leave. As she passed the balcony though, she caught a similar silhouette. She opened the door quietly, pushing through the thick red curtain to find you standing out there alone against the railing. You were wearing another long-sleeved dress that revealed nothing but your curves.

Natasha closed the door softly, content that it shut out the unintelligible noises from inside.

“Are you not enjoying the party?”

You whipped around, body tensed with a sharp turn of your head at Natasha’s presence.

“I--”

You coughed lightly, a blush dusting your cheeks as you admitted slowly, “I don’t fit in well with this type of crowd.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought.

From what Natasha knew, you were from an affluential family, although you did just make it out of bankruptcy.

This was supposed to be your crowd.

“That’s alright. You’re all the better for not fitting in.” Natasha walked up to the ledge next to you, resting her elbow up before propping her chin on it. There was a slight breeze that brushed against Natasha’s fingers.

She looked over subtly to you, her eyes drawing down to your neatly trimmed nails, spotting a small line of paint just on the side of your ring finger. Natasha ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth at the sight.

You had your head tilted downwards and slightly to the side, it gave a great view of your slender neck and defined collarbone as you had a soft smile to what Natasha had said.

It was the small things like this that caused the confusion in Natasha.

You had chosen a man like William Cain to be your husband, and for some reason, Natasha couldn’t ignore that.

But Natasha could feel that a direct approach with you would cause you to close yourself off. She needed to be careful.

“And what about you, Miss Rovinski? Are you someone who fits in?” You asked quietly in return.

It was quiet for a moment, and Natasha licked her bottom lip slowly.

“I guess you can say I fit in anywhere but belong nowhere,” Natasha admitted quietly, and when she went to see your expression, it was as if you were not surprised by the answer.

Perhaps seeing that quality in Natasha.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” Natasha asked, and it seemed the question surprised you, but you nodded, albeit a little hesitantly.

“A few days ago I went to a local café in the morning, and I had overheard a conversation between two men who couldn’t understand how society, women, in particular, were so invested in art and fashion. There was too much emphasis on art, and it was overrated.”

Natasha caught your nervousness at the statement and quirked her lips.

“I didn’t agree with the sentiment as they commented on how the café looked bare and too plain--a problem only art could solve, isn’t that right?”

You hadn’t quite reacted to Natasha’s story, unsure where she was really going with this.

“I went to an artist’s gallery opening a couple months ago, and it featured a painting of a local village she had experienced in her travels. It was filled with such vibrant colors, sharp and soft. No words had accompanied the painting, yet people crowded around it, overwhelmed with emotion. Some people cried, some laughed loudly, and some were echoed by the image--are you understanding me?”

You nodded slowly.

“So, I’ve decided that sometimes art is the only thing that can draw out what people may truly be feeling, leaves a mark that words cannot reach,” Natasha said as she looked up at the starry sky.

Natasha turned back and gave you a quiet, warm smile. “That’s why I envy artists sometimes for being able to reach people in a different light.”

The hesitance and stiffness in you melted away with Natasha’s words, a rare genuine smile gracing your lips for her.

Natasha pulled back her arms, looking towards the door.

This was enough for tonight.

Natasha was leaving before your voice stopped her.

“Thank you...your words have reached me...and they make me incredibly happy.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha stood in front of two large mahogany doors before they opened to reveal Davidl standing there.

“Natanya, you made it! Did you find it okay?” He greeted her, pulling her into a slight hug and kisses on either side of her cheeks.

“Yes, my driver seemed to know exactly where he was going.” It seemed like all luxurious private drivers knew where the big players were.

“Come on in, I’ve got someone preparing us tea and lunch. Are you allergic to anything or any preferences?” David asked as he ushered her in. It was quite a walk to his patio outside. A full garden with a pond and fountain that was well maintained was the view.

“No, anything will be fine,” Natasha said as she took her seat, placing her small purse onto the table.

David sat across from her, crossing his legs so that his ankle rested against his thigh, and temple resting against his knuckles.

“Someone else will be coming too,” David said with a casual smile. “My boyfriend.”

Natasha raised her brow. That had explained some things.

“Why tell me that? What if I was extremely homophobic?” Natasha asked, only to see what David would say.

David let out a genuine laughter.

“Please,” he said after his laugh. “We flock together like birds. I’ve seen you eyeing various women throughout the parties--and men, although it looked like you were eyeing them begrudgingly.”

Natasha wasn’t sure if David had a better eye than she thought or if his gaydar was just that good, either way, she did feel a little exposed.

“What’s your boyfriend like?” Natasha asked, changing the topic from her.

David smiled softly, “Liam’s a photographer. He doesn’t come from money which I like. He’ll call me out on my shit if he thinks I’m being a dickhead. You should see him when I try to do extravagant things.”

David was chuckling by the end of it, the softness bringing a small smile to Natasha’s lips.

“Do your parents know?” Natasha asked.

“Yep,” David sighs. “They think it’s just a phase, but Liam is the one for me, I’m pretty sure. Since I’m the only child, my parents haven’t cut me off yet because they want me to take over the business. Once they see how serious I am, I have no idea how they’ll react. I’m fully prepared to be cut off, but Liam’s been teaching me about putting money away in case that happens.”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile at how endearing this all sounded, a rich man with learning how to save and budget from his financially average boyfriend.

The rest of the afternoon, they had made small idle chat until Liam arrived. He was a pretty athletically fit man, taller than David and nearly hovering over him. He had a boyish soft charm, yet intensity to him that made Natasha see why David was so enamored.

“I saw William today leaving from my photoshoot,” Liam commented as he finished up his meal.

“Oh?” David commented, disinterestedly.

“Yeah,” Liam continued. “He was standing outside a café with someone I haven’t recognized from any of the parties or his campaign. He seemed pretty angry with whoever he was talking to since he was shouting and flailing his arms.”

That piqued Natasha’s attention.

“Oh, wow,” Natasha commented. “What café was it?”

“The one on 18th. There’s a whole bunch of cafés down that street.”

Natasha hummed, storing that information for later.

The rest of the lunch went smooth, and eventually, David took them inside to his living area.

Natasha looked at the photos around the room, a lot of it being childhood photos of David. She was intrigued to see so many pictures of him and another boy. It wasn’t until she found a high school photo of David and the man next to him a younger version of William.

“Wow, you guys really were family friends,” Natasha commented as she took the photo from the ledge to look at it closer.

David hummed.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We were actually pretty close back in high school and a little through university.”

“What changed?” Natasha asked because it was clear now that David hated the other man.

David leaned his head on his fist against the chair as Liam sat next to him. “He was always arrogant, don’t get me wrong. But you could tell he cared about things, I guess. I think it all started to change after his dad died midway the first year of university.”

“Oh, it was a car accident, right?” Natasha inquired. That was what was on his file.

David pursed his lip, looking around his home as if to see if anyone else was there.

“That’s what his family wanted officially published. But the truth is, we don’t really know for sure.”

That was interesting, Natasha thought. Her file should’ve had that. Why was his father’s death so tight-lipped?

She would have to do more digging on that because whatever it was, it was clearly a changing point for William.

The subject dropped, and they chatted for about another hour before Natasha decided that it was time to go.

“Oh!” David exclaimed before she was leaving. “Before you go, my parents are hosting their 40th anniversary next weekend. Here’s your invitation. I know you’re going to see William and his fiancé...please give this to them.”

“I swear you rich people have a party every week,” Liam mumbled.

Natasha took the invitations, raising her brow at David. Clearly, the man just didn’t want to see William. He smiled widely at her trying to look innocent, and Natasha could only roll her eyes.

David gave her a parting hug while Liam shook her hand.

This afternoon turned out to be more fulfilling than she thought it was going to be.

She had some useful information to work with.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Maria: Sorry, there’s nothing on his father’s death other than it being a car accident. We’ve even got all the records pulled for the coroner's report and the police records. All points to a car accident. I sent you the photos too.

Natasha sighed frustratedly as she threw her phone next to her on the couch.

Fuck, she thought. How could that be? It was evident that within the inner circle, that wasn’t how the man died.

Why could they pull nothing?

She supposed she wouldn’t find out unless she got into the inner circle.

On the bright side, Natasha managed to find who William was talking to at the café by hacking into the street cameras to find the photos of them.

It was a rather rugged-looking man, definitely not someone who belongs in the affluent circle. She had sent the photos off to see what they could come up with when she got back from lunch that day.

Her phone dinged again, this time with information sent to her.

The man’s name was Emilio Vartez. Nothing out of the usual other than petty crimes, but the fact that William was associating himself with someone like that was already telling.

She needed to see if she could find this Emilio Vartez.

Her phone dinged again, but this time to remind her that she needed to stop by The Cain estates. She had scheduled her meeting with William today, and it would be a chance to drop off David’s invitations as well.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m so sorry, Miss Rovinski. Mr. Cain had a sudden work emergency that just came up. He had to leave right away. I’m not too sure when he’ll be back, but he will be reaching back out to you to reschedule.”

William’s assistant was near bowing at Natasha who had simply raised her hand to show it was a no big deal.

“That’s fine,” Natasha told the assistant to stop her from apologizing. “Actually is the soon-to-be Mrs. Cain here? I need to drop off an invitation.”

The assistant actually looked hesitant to tell Natasha where you were, but it was like she reminded herself that you were now public.

“Oh, yes,” the assistant coughed after a moment. “She’s in her art studio. It’s on the second level, the farthest room in the back. I’m sorry, I would walk you, but I really have to meet up with one of the campaign managers right now.”

Natasha shook her head, “That’s fine, really. I’m sure I will find her. If not, I’ll play Marco-Polo with her.”

The assistant let out a burst of loud laughter that made Natasha internally jump.

The assistant laughed the entire way out, and Natasha stood there blinking until she was gone.

After that, Natasha followed the assistant’s directions. She would’ve taken longer to snoop around, but since she already knew she wouldn’t find anything, she went straight to her destination.

Natasha could see you through the clear window on the door. The studio was large in size, blank canvases and easels lined up on one side. You had your back turned to Natasha in a large men’s dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up in front of a canvas, various paint tubes everywhere.

Natasha entered the room quietly, just observing you. You head was tilted with your thumb in the middle of the canvas, your paintbrush delicately held between your lips.

“What are you drawing?”

You jumped as you turned around, paintbrush falling from your mouth. The brush rolled until it hit Natasha’s foot.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Natasha said as she picked up the brush to hand it to you.

You had your hair in a bun, strands have fallen out. Demurely, you brushed a strand behind your ear as you regarded Natasha.

“I’m here to give you an invitation to the King’s party next week.”

“I suppose David didn’t want to see William?” You asked with a little mirth in your tone that made Natasha quirk her lips.

“You know about David’s...feelings?”

“He doesn’t exactly keep it a secret,” you say, delicately opening the envelope.

“It doesn’t bother you that he feels that way about your husband?”

You merely smiled lopsidedly.

“My fiancé,” you corrected subtly, “is a politician.”

That’s all you said to explain, but Natasha understood the unsaid words. She eyed your canvas again and looked at your prep work.

“Watercolor?”

To her surprise, a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“It’s my favorite,” you quietly admitted.

“Why?” Natasha pried.

You looked at your easel, the faint pencil sketches on your canvas.

“I like that it’s transparent,” you said so faintly that Natasha almost didn’t catch it.

Suddenly, you turned back to face Natasha, eyeing her.

“Do you like the color black?” You asked as you caught onto her black cashmere turtleneck.

“I do,” Natasha admitted.

“Would you like to hear something interesting about it?” You were looking at Natasha so calmly, it was bringing something out in her.

“Yes.”

“People think that the color black only symbolizes unhappiness, grief, and misery, but studies show that people who are powerful wear the color black--lawyers, judges, Steve Jobs.”

Natasha laughed a little at the last one.

“Want to hear more?” You said, smiling as Natasha nodded.

“They say people who like the color black are mysterious and like to keep a certain boundary between them and the outside world.”

Natasha tilted her head. “Do you think that of me?”

“I believe only time will let me know.”

You stood up, walking by Natasha before she reached out and grabbed your wrist softly. The action seemed to surprise you as your arm pressed against the sleeve of her shirt.

“Do you like the color green?” Natasha asked as you had shades of green painted across your arm.

“At the moment, yes,” you replied.

“Would you like to know something interesting about it?” Natasha asked, repeating you. You smiled in response.

“Doctors use the color green to help relieve the fatigue in their eyes from the blood during operations, it helps them focus on examining wounds in better detail.”

You tilted your head at the fact, intrigued.

“Want to hear more?” Natasha asked, smiling herself when you nodded.

“They say kind, loyal, and compassionate people pick green as their favorite color.”

You swallowed at the words, overwhelmed by it, but Natasha could tell you were grateful nonetheless. When she released your wrist, your eyes were drawn to the streak of green smudged on her sweater.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, let me get that fo--”

“It’s alright,” Natasha interrupted you, looking at the splash of color on her sleeve. “I think your green goes well against my black.”

When she looked up, you swallowed deeply at her emerald eyes that just peered into you. Natasha was already walking towards the door before she looked back at you, bidding you goodbye for now with a definitive voice.

“I’ll see you soon.”

When Natasha walked out the front door, she clenched her jaw.

It was only a second, but it made all the difference to Natasha.

You had jumped before she spoke.

You weren’t surprised--or scared.

You expected her to be there.

PART III

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madzilla84 · 4 years

Text

update

Did anyone ask for one? No. Does anyone want it? Probably not … I guess there’s still some small part of me that misses having a Livejournal.

In general, things have been - better. I started going outside a bit more from late-ish July, but honestly I don’t know if I started feeling better because I started going out, or if I started going out because I was feeling better…? A mystery. But mood tracking app - surely a reliable source of mental health info lmao - seems to agree:

(woohoo, only ‘significant burden’! i think that’s about the best you could hope for in 2020. and this was a few weeks ago, and I feel better now than I did then, so.)

I’ve been off work for the last 3 weeks - nothing wrong, just 2 weeks of scheduled annual leave, which I needed very much (I think part of why I was feeling bad was because I hadn’t had a break since February), and last week I had a week of jury duty. The break was much needed and I can feel the difference.

I started exercising again in July, and ugggggggh ok fine I admit I do feel better because of it. I’m never gonna be a gym bunny, I’ll probably never *love* it but I can’t deny the benefits. I go 3 times a week which is enough for me. (Though I only went twice last week and this week - last week I was pretty wrecked after court each day and this week I am focussing on being lazy.) Going outside again was strange at first, like the previous 4 months hadn’t happened, but it didn’t take long to feel (mostly) normal again.

I’ve also had a couple of social things, which has been nice - one lunch out at an outdoor restaurant, and one bbq at a friend’s house. (She moved in recently at the end of my street; while I was sitting in her living room I could look out of the window at my own flat. Weird!) I’ve been thinking a lot about Dan’s tweet about who he realised he wants in his life after lockdown, and it’s just. Interesting.

I’m DELIGHTED it’s September and the start of the best months, the -embers and -obers; it’s still pretty warm and mostly sunny here but it’s really nice, the bite’s gone out of the warmth. Not long now until it Gs the FO entirely. \o/ I’m still playing Animal Crossing every day, (unlike some people, smh poor abandoned Pickle).

Jury duty last week was fascinating. I didn’t even know if I’d get picked - they call more than twice as many people as they need in case anyone can’t do it for whatever reason (if one of the lawyers is a family friend or something), but I did end up being chosen. (No. 12!!) We were the first post-covid jury, and the first socially distanced one.

I *can* talk about the case now it’s over, but I don’t think I will, because the subject matter could be pretty triggering, but it was often a tough week given the nature of it. Having said that, something about it was very satisfying. It was fascinating to see how the courts and lawyers worked, and the whole process, and it was good to work with the other jurors. (Days on end of talking to actual humans was actually pretty good, for the most part.) We were all just thrown together, and we had differences of opinion of course, but it was still a good experience to work with them. It felt good to be part of something like that, something that mattered, and to feel like a part of the community in such a real way. I can be quite good at putting aside emotion to look at the letter of the law, which in a case like this can be very challenging; some of the other jurors struggled with it a great deal. (This isn’t to blow my own trumpet or anything; many would argue it was *me* who had the problem, in much the same way they often say lawyers are heartless, which isn’t true most of the time)

The case ended up being dismissed as the jury couldn’t reach a consensus - we got slated on social media (which of course I didn’t look at during the case, I caught up after), but we all stuck to our convictions and I know it was right; there’s a lot the public didn’t know or understand. As tough a case as it was, I’m glad I got to do it, it was a privilege in many ways. (But, I wouldn’t mind if it was a long time until I had to do it again, you know? lol.)

We had our phones taken from 9-5 while we were working - it’s the law - and I thought it was gonna be the worst after being glued to it constantly, but it was actually quite nice lmao. Not that I didn’t end up glued to it again once the case was over.

Fandom-wise, I have - finally - ended up taking a step back from the phandom a little bit in the last month or two. I want to talk about that a bit because it’s a complicated topic, and I see a lot of concerning posts - mainly on Twitter - that if you don’t maintain a certain level of dedication, if you join another fandom or get into something else or aren’t sufficiently devoted and supportive you - aren’t a true fan? Or something? Lots of posts along the lines of, ‘all these people getting into kpop/tv show/whatever, smh, don’t think we won’t remember when dan’s project drops and you all come running back’. It’s just a bit - weird? Like, it’s *perfectly normal* if people get into other stuff while dnp are cooking whatever they’re cooking (or not cooking, or whatever)? Or just move on, but still enjoy D&P?

I’m not, like, dramatically leaving the fandom or anything. Hell, I haven’t *left* the fandom at all, I’m still here every day, it’s - more of a mental shift. Because prior to July/August-ish this year I really wasn’t in a good place with it. I wrote a thing earlier this year about struggling with writing, and belonging while not being a content creator, and other things … the issue is that, as I tend to do with my fandoms, I get too overinvested. And sometimes, that’s okay - whatever gets you through the night and all that - but in this case, I wasn’t enjoying it any more. Some parts I was - I’ve made the best friends I’ve ever had in a fandom here, and I really like seeing everyone on here - but in general, I was spending a lot of my time feeling anxious, resentful, worried, angry and frustrated. I spent a lot of last year and almost all of this one waiting for Godot; hating the “new normal” and desperately waiting for - something that’s never going to come. I just couldn’t deal with it; probably for reasons bigger than just D&P but that’s how it manifested. I got more and more frustrated by the content we were getting because it wasn’t what I’d hoped, and I hated feeling like that. It took up way too much of my thoughts and every day was just waiting, and wondering, and worrying. And I got so, so sick of it.

So, where am I now? Well, it was inevitable really, but I just started to - let go, a bit. I didn’t throw my hands up and go, ’bah, screw these guys!’, my mental focus just shifted (for my own good), and I started focussing on other things. Other fandoms. Games and hobbies I can distract myself with. I’ll admit it wouldn’t necessarily have been my *choice*, you know? But reality is what it is and I’m - relieved, really, that I’m not unnecessarily tormenting myself about it any more. It took me a long time to reach this place - too long, really - and, for now at least, it’s kind of nice. I can just enjoy things if/when they pop up without the accompanying sadness and anger about how everything is changed, about what has ended and what I’ve “lost”. (And it’s not 100%, by the way; it’s still there, just - quiet, now.) I can look at, I dunno, someone’s gifs of Dan or whatever, and just smile about it rather than feeling that grief. (Or, feel it, but not to the exclusion of everything else.) It’s - nicer.

And it isn’t at *all* that I don’t care any more, I still love them, of course I do, and will continue to follow them and watch everything they do. I’m not going anywhere. I still have notifs on, though they don’t quite send my heart into my throat like they did. ;) In a way it’s helping me love them more, because now when I watch them I enjoy it more, appreciating the fun and the bants without laser-focussing on my own anger and sadness. I’m still attending our little daily phannie watch-alongs, where we watch a couple of eps of DAPG and an anime. I’m still on phandom tumblr/twitter on the daily. It just - has a slightly smaller portion of my brain and mental energy now.

It was a step I needed to take, but also one I’m not sure I could have *chosen* to take, not without deliberately leaving and cutting it all off completely? And I didn’t want to do that. I’d hoped I’d get to this place earlier than this - some 20 months after the fact - but better late than never, I suppose.

(Also, disclaimer - fandom and the human heart are funny things, and I fully accept I can and probably will be sucked completely back in at any time.)

Anyway! SEE YOU AT THE QUIZ :D

#mad.txt #tw covid #personal

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thestuckylibrary · 4 years

Text

Group Ask 142

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said:

Hi I was wondering if you know of a fic where Steve and Bucky have a baby, and they get called on a mission leaving Peter to babysit and things go wrong? I read it a long time ago and I can’t find it anywhere.

Anon 2 said:

Hi there! The fic I am having trouble finding is kinda of a darkish one. Like SHIELD helps kidnap heroes and enhanced people abd turns them into "Littles". Tony is kidnapped and sent to a town where he's adopted by Bucky and Steve who decide he's not a boy but a girl, and raise him to be their daughter. I know that its got most of the Avengers characters in it but the team was never a thing

Anon let us know this is Pleasant Hill by CranberryJuice but the story has since been deleted.

Anon 3 said:

Hey! I'm looking for a fic I read a while ago. The only thing I can remember it's that they're at a museum, Bucky sees two guys holding hands and asks Steve why aren't they holding hands too. He answers that's because the guys are gay and Bucky goes like "Why aren't we gay Steve?" I think it's a post tws recovery fic Thank you!!!

orchidsrule sent in Captain America and The Great Pygmalion Debacle by Chianine (Complete | 31,739 | E)

Anon 4 said:

Hey I love the work you do!! I’m looking for a fic where Bucky and Steve were both in high school. All I remember is that Steve was a new student and he befriended Peggy. Peggy and Bucky were best friends and Peggy introduces them. Bucky smokes a lot in the fic. I also remember that Steve thinks that Bucky and Peggy are dating but they’re not. They hang out in someone’s basement a lot. Thank you!

Anon 5 said:

A while ago a read a fic I can't find anymore. The Winter soldier surrenders I think after catws. I remember he had a panicattack in an elevator and Tony helps him. I hope someone can help me find it. Thank you und pleased excuse my English, it's not my native language.

Anon 6 said: (rape/noncon)

Hi! I am trying to relocate a fic I read a while ago. Bucky at some point during WWII was raped. steve finds him after & bucky makes him promise he won't tell anyone. Fast forward 70 years, Bucky is presumed dead and Steve starts sharing bucky's story to hopefully help other rape victims. Bucky is of course not dead, and later finds out steve broke his promise and calls him out on it. I think it ended with steve apologizing publicly and inviting bucky on stage to tell his story in his own words

Anon 7 said:

This isn’t really a request but I read a fic a while ago and I can’t find it anywhere! It was a dom! Steve sub! Bucky one and I remember it started out with Bucky in the shower. Bucky looked for comfort in Steve and he started to discipline him until it got too much and too sexual during a shower scene when Bucky asked for Steve to wash him. They end up making up and Steve offers Bucky a collar, leading up to a scene where they fuck in front of a window (kind of exbitionism??) I’m sorry this is so all over the place but I’ve tried everywhere I hope you can help!!

Anon sent in Good Boy by triedunture (oneshot | 13,473 | E)

Anon 8 said:

Hi there :) So there’s this fix I’ve been looking for for a while, I’ve tried every tag I can think of on ao3 and on your blog so there is a chance that it’s been deleted but I thought I’d just ask in case anyone knows it. Basically the fix was about Bucky with one arm (I think he was post military) working at a library. It was a shrunkyclunks fic, Steve had an art Instagram account where he met Bucky who was using the library’ account. Sorta online friendship. Thank you :)

Anon, popsiclememories and metisecret sent in the lions by Spacedog (WIP | 110,919 | E)

Anon 9 said:

Hello! I remember only a pretty gory detail about the fic that I lost: A building came down and Bucky was trapped under the rubble. As the Avengers lifted a large piece of it, they realized it tore Bucky open as they moved it. I remember Sam was there, and Natasha, and Steve, and Tony too. I know there is a chapter in the fics accompanying the The Life of Bucky Barnes Insta posts that mentions something very alike, but that's not it. Help :-(

Anon 10 said:

hi so i just saw an ask that reminded of a fic i would like to find again! so bucky was killed as while he was still the winter soldier and at judgement day its deemed that since he wasnt in control hes not going to hell but he still has to go to limbo and help other souls pass through to the other side. so he has to watch over this waiting room of sorts that he makes into a bar. and one day steve shows up and hes not supposed to let the souls linger but they start falling for eachother.

Anon 11 said:

Hey, I was looking for one where Bucky is both touch starved and easily overwhelmed by touch? It had a part where he was laying on Steve while Steve was covered in blankets so that they didn’t have any skin on skin contact. I was wondering if I could get some help finding it?

dolphinqueen10 sent in before we can breathe easy by belovedmuerto (complete | 22,052 | T)

Anon 12 said:

Hi! I’ve been searching this fic and i can’t find it ! Unfortunately I don’t remember much detail but it’s like a enemies to lovers im pretty sure , it’s modern and there’s angry sex , dirty talk and switching. I thing they’re in college but I’m not sure. Bucky it’s kinda cold / grumpy ?. And they would go to each other’s apartments /dorms. Well I remember Steve going to Buckys. I know it’s not really specific, but I can’t find anything !! Please Please help me ?

Anon 13 said:

Hi! I know I've read this fic before and I've looked through your tags and ao3's and I still can't seem to find it. So Loki messes with the avengers and shows the entire team all of Steve's fears, like one was him experience drowning because of putting the plane down. I remember the final fear was Steve worried that Bucky didn't love him back but it ends up with them getting together! If you could help me I would appreciate it so much!! Thank you so much for all the wonderful work you do!!

dolphinqueen10 and orchidsrule sent in Always Afraid, Always Ashamed* by CaptainDean13 (complete | 11,052 | E) *graphic violence, implied/referenced suidice

Anon 14 said:

heyyy, so i’ve looked through all the tags that i could think relate to this fic that i lost and idk if i missed it or it’s just not there lol. umm so basically it’s chubby bucky and lifeguard steve and bucky goes skinny dipping and then steve watches him and then he tells him to get out and buckys naked when he gets out and stuff and then i think?? steve asks him out after?? idk that’s all i can think of. thank youuu!! 💛💛

Anon 15 said:

I tried finding this fic but I couldn’t. It’s a modern setting au and Steve goes to a strip club and gets a lap dance from Bucky and falls in love with him. I’m sorry if this is vague but I can’t find it. Thank you.

#group asks

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therewas-a-girl · 4 years

Note

Shipwrecks, Of the Wretched, de profundis ALL OF THE QUESTIONS

the

you think i will be intimidated by this BUT CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!! *cracks knuckles*

Shipwrecks

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

this fic is written mostly traditionally tbh - its cronologically told, in third person and mostly from one pov which is (and will be) feclicity. however, i have changed my mind about a lot of things since i started the fic - for one, i want to incorporate the whole ‘unreliable narrator’ thing a lot more. i want to use flashbacks more carefully: playing with timelines in how cetain present time events triger past moemories that illuminate the REASON behind present time choices. things like that.

the real inspiration for the fic itself was another fic i read - I've Never Truly Loved (Until You Put Your Arms Around Me) by theirhappystory. And the fact that i read that fic ... while i was on a boat... while there was a storm. a small one BUT STILL.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Whatever Walks Here, Walks Alone - aka oliver looking at felicity in the lair. by itself this scene could fit anywhere from the begining of season 1, to anywhere in season 2. i didnt really write it with a timeline in mind. it was mroe like me pondering the characters.

3: What's your favorite line of narration?

i had a LOT of fun - unexpected fun - writing Diggle’s pov in teh whole situation. you see, when i started the story the first thing i wanted to figure out was where do i want the characters to end up in relation to each other - so that i could start the story with them being in the diametrically opposite spot! but then i realized that i also want contrast within the trio - and where oliver and felicity move towards each other at a glacial pace, john and felicty have a much more easy time understanding where the other stands. like... they vibe. and it had a lot o fun planing out that vibe - and all teh ways it pisses off oliver, in the begining.

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?

To answer this i would have to go back and re-read a lot of what i wrote and plan to write, but there is a line that STAYS with me and its one felicity says.

so - in the show, the trio do eventually find out that the Gambit was sabotaged and did not just sink. Now - in Shipwrecks - this would have a major devastating effect on felicity, who was in the gambit with oliver and sara. And she is the one that has the hunch that moira was involved (i think this happens in canon too?) - and she pushes oliver about it. Bc ofc she thinks of moira as just another person. Worse even - a person who hurt her. At this point she is MANIC about it and it freaks oliver out. Like, take the natural defensiveness he has against the idea and add a fear that felicity might genuinely kill his mother, and you get him being very agressively AGAINST felicity following moira anywhere. and when felicity understands that oliver has no intention of pursuing a what she sees as a genuine lead about the event that practically ruined them as people, she just, shuts down, makes a disgusted face, thinks of all the ritch fuckers she’s known and framed and used and how they close ranks when their reputation or personal interest is touched and just, blurts it out.

‘you fucking people.’

5: What part was hardest to write?

all of it lmao. like WRITING IT.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

The fact that i planned it out and it has like, different installments and a whole journey, which is one of losing oneself, understanding that ones self has been lost, seeing vengence for that loss (aka giving in/facing the anger it causes), seeking freedom, going against ones impulses to build better ones, building relationships, mantaining them, finding ones self through small acts of kindness towards ones self, rebuilding ones personality

basically i wrote a journey about getting out of depression and grief, before i realized that THAT was what i was actually writing about.

7: Where did the title come from?

The title of the series is pretty straightforward: they were shipwrecked and now theyre coming back. 'above the vaulted sky’ is a line from a I am, by John Claire.

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;My friends forsake me like a memory lost:I am the self-consumer of my woes—They rise and vanish in oblivious host,Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throesAnd yet I am, and live—like vapours tossedInto the nothingness of scorn and noise,Into the living sea of waking dreams,Where there is neither sense of life or joys,But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;Even the dearest that I loved the bestAre strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.I long for scenes where man hath never trodA place where woman never smiled or weptThere to abide with my Creator, God,And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,Untroubling and untroubled where I lieThe grass below—above the vaulted sky.

It’s a rather sad one actually, but i read it as a poem about hope. About the dream of hope, anyway. And this need to be away - from what is known because at this point what is known is horrible and the only happiness the imagination can come up with, is to be as far from it as possible and alone. and that is very much where felicity starts out with. With her hope not being about peace, but an isolation in stillness because that is the only good place she can imagine.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

It did. I’ve been depressed and strugling with horrendous issues of self worth and anxiety since i was about 14. And i never knew. It literally took me turning 28 to realize what the fuck was wrong. And its depressing (lol) because its just so much fucking time that i wasted, you know. And i remember - like, when i was deep in my depression - i used to think all the time ‘I must have been a real life person once. Like, an actual person, with a personality, and likes and dislikes and feelings - but i dont remember her. I dont know who that girl even is, i woudlnt regognise her at all.’ It felt like some part of me had died. Like there was literal murder involved. Cause so little of me survived.

but it turns out, i have been this way - just less intensely (and in some cases a lot MORE intensely) since i hit puberty. i didnt die - i just got worse and did not deal with it at all.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

not really. not yet, anyway.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

im actually not sure that i do want oliver-felicity for this sotry. the dynamic between felicity and tommy is also very veyr interesting. and i dont really know where i will take them. especially in the first and second story, their connection is intense. but this is also part of teh slowburn - oliver and felicity, however it happens, its gonna be slow.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

how personal it is to me, and my experience. and the fact that, if i write it well, i might actually be sayin something.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

THE FACT THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN IT YET T_T

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

PHEW I have whole playlists i built as i was ordering this whole series. with songs that fit the mood, the direction of the storytelling and all.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I genuinely want people to see this as a story about healing.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

i havent written all of it yet - but i did learn something very interesting about myself. that i have been putting my trauma into narratives to deal with it looong since i knew that was a thing, or i was even aware that i was doing it.

and on that depressing note, i will end this post and start a new one for the other stories lmao

#personal #shipwrecks tag #deathandindignitybedamned

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sunshinewhale · 5 years

Text

selfless [complete work]

fallen hearts are bound together just to break

pairing: onesided hyungwon x reader, kihyun x reader pov: unnamed reader, hyungwon-centric, third person

genre: angst lol words: ~6200

*optional* follow-up to [ selfish ], but can be read standalone

warnings: slowburn? self-insecurities, unhappy open-ending, romanticism about insecurities, you may need a tissue

notes: was i uploading this in parts? yes. did I give up finish the rest in one go and post it as a whole work? yes. give me some love guys, i need validation for subsistence.

(writing gets worse as it goes fyi, bc i gave up lol)

Hyungwon realizes, she must be special somehow, because Kihyun brings her home.

He’s not exactly surprised. They all have some loves, some secretive, fleeting, some lost. The thing is, it’s Kihyun, and the ones that Kihyun brings home are few and even farther in between.

There is nothing particularly distinctive about her. She’s pretty in her own way, a little shy, but pleasant in her politeness and perfectly amiable. At second glance, she’s not really the type Kihyun usually goes for, either.

Albeit a little wary, he is neutral. Relationships for people like them were always a tough ocean to weather, intricately complicated, too often ending in sunken shipwreck. For Hyungwon, fallen hearts are just too difficult, bound together just to break and he has no qualms about breaking others to keep his own safe.

But that’s no fault of hers, and the one she beats for is not him but Kihyun, so he has no reason for animosity.

When Kihyun leaves to prepare dinner, she doesn’t follow him into the kitchen. She settles a careful distance next to him on the wrinkled leather couch, away from the chattering noise of Minhyuk and Changkyun at war in the game room. A seeker of silence, he observes as he raises his head and her eyes meet his. The contact has her taken aback, her pupils rounded and wide with innocent alarm. He gives a nonchalant, non-committal nod, and she slowly blinks back, owlish.

It’s so oddly adorable, he’s secretly charmed.

He leans back and lets his eyelids lower.

The silence isn’t awkward at all. In the most unexpected way, her quiet presence is comforting. There’s a slight crick in his neck, but his consciousness drifts off as he listens the faint rhythm of her breathing. A blissful haze creeps over his mind, he’s about to dip into the sweet nothingness of sleep when a hand presses against his cheek gently. Without thinking, he nuzzles into the warm skin.

Still gentle, the hand shifts his position. He grunts in drowsy protest, nudging his face against the direction of the guided push. It refuses to let up, and he squints open in quick irritation, attack ready on his tongue.

All he can see is her.

A small pull is at the corner of her lips, and amusement gleams in her eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but it’s bad for your neck if you sleep like that,” she says softly, and Hyungwon only hears kindness.

His irritation vanishes into thin air, as quick as it came, and he allows her to move his head to lie on the cushioned armrest. She’ll be good for Kihyun, he thinks.

His eyelids close heavy. His muddled consciousness melts a crack in his guarded armour, and his lips are too loose. He finds himself mumbling out loud, look after him, Kihyun can be difficult, he means well, he’s usually too busy looking after us to look after himself.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to look after him for long,” she whispers. It’s almost inaudible in the silence.

He knows she’s telling herself rather than answering him.

Hyungwon doesn’t really understand, but he recognizes sadness and he thinks he feels a dull stirring in his chest—

Then, his unconsciousness takes him completely.

“Why are you here alone?”

His voice comes out raspy and it makes him sound cranky and ill-tempered. It’s well past noon, but he had just rolled out of bed. He’s still bleary eyed with the hangover of sleep, and a sleepy Hyungwon is never a happy Hyungwon.

Startled, like a deer in the headlights, she meets his gaze from her spot at the kitchen table.

“Kihyun is out on a schedule with Minhyuk and Hyunwoo. He asked me to wait for him to come back,” she pauses in meek hesitance. Her lips part again as if she had more to say, but she purses them and looks away instead.

Hyungwon too, turns away without replying. The silence that floods the room is awkward enough that he feels some sort of internal cringe, but he does nothing to alleviate it. Everything is making his head hurt. He rubs out an oncoming migraine, and scuffing of wood against tile fills the soundlessness.

She’s out of her seat and rummaging around the kitchen cabinets. Tension is knitted between the blades of her shoulders, caution in every movement.

Distance.

He's all too aware. He sees the signs, the weight of reservation within, will withering at the pressure of possibly being unwanted.

A part of him gives way, and he sighs through his softness. He doesn’t intend to regularly involve her in his life (like Minhyuk) or instant acceptance into a blossoming friendship (like Jooheon) just because she’s dating one of his members, but he (admittedly) loves and respects Kihyun. He would like to be on good terms with her, something along the lines of the closer side of close acquaintances, and Hyungwon definitely doesn’t want her to feel unwelcome.

“You don’t have to be so formal, and you don’t have to explain to me why you’re here. Relax, you’re with Kihyun.”

She stiffens completely, arm frozen midair and hand disappeared in the depths of a cupboard. She doesn’t turn her head to look at him.

“You don’t need to distance yourself,” Hyungwon continues, “we’re all glad that you’re here. Kihyun’s been really happy these weeks.”

He hears her inhale deeply, a little shaky and unsteady, but she still doesn’t turn around. Maybe he overstepped his bounds.

Unbidden, he walks out of the kitchen. He plops himself onto the leather couch, and he groans in frustration as he buries his face into his hands. He thinks of her back, her shoulders curled in, on guard and awaiting hostility. You’ve just made things worse. Why can’t you just get along—

“Hyungwon.”

He spreads his fingers and peeks at her between the gaps.

“Hyungwon,” she says again, somewhat shy. Her voice has always been soothing to his ears, but hearing his name was another experience. It’s not quite a smile yet, but her mouth lifts slightly upwards.

She holds out a mug to him. It’s his mug, sleek black with C.H.W. engraved on the handle that had been gifted to him for his birthday.

He’s a little perplexed. “Why are you making me coffee?” he can’t help but ask, but he easily accepts the mug from her, touched by the detail.

She’s nowhere near as bright as the afternoon sun, but he thinks her eyes twinkle.

“You’re with Kihyun, too. Shouldn’t I look after you the way he will?”

She smiles, cheeky. It’s a small smile, but it’s a start.

He blinks. He’s not sure if its the aroma of coffee or if Kihyun had cleaned yesterday, but the light from the glass windows seem to sparkle gently.

He brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip.

Strange.

It’s black coffee. It’s black coffee, but it tastes somehow sweet.

Even stranger, Hyungwon doesn’t mind the sweetness.

Hyungwon is at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He’s a simple man, really. All he wants is his daily dose of caffeine in tranquility and peace, accompanied by the quiet buzz of city life. As fate would have it, a cruel mistress indeed, he ends up at the same cafe as her and Kihyun. They don’t notice him, but drama finds him wherever he goes.

He watches as a girl saunters up to her, shoulders squared with arrogance, her perfect manicure tipped with cruelty. Dread dips down his spine as he recognizes her as one of Kihyun’s past loves, one of the ill-fated that ended messy and met death with spite.

“I still can’t believe it, but word has it someone like you is Yoo Kihyun’s new other,” the girl bites to maim, voice sharp and steel-bladed. “Are you?”

He grits his teeth.

Where on earth did Kihyun go?

He’s not involved but he doesn’t exactly feel uninvolved. He wants to embrace the bliss of ignorance, blind his eyes and deafen his ears, to pass her off as another stranger. He doesn’t know her well enough, he has no right to be involved, so it has nothing to do with him.

(He ignores the Kihyun would expect you to be involved lurking in the depths of his mind.)

He’s always been passive in nature, unbothered by conflict, ready to run to keep the comfort of his status quo. A prey in a predator’s disguise.

But Hyunwon’s body refuses to obey him, and his sight can’t seem to focus anywhere else.

She looks up from her hot chocolate, bewildered at the hostility. Her pupils shake for a second, two, and then her expression shifts into an impasse, neutral without any trace of any emotion.

“I am.”

“What makes you think you’re good enough for him?” The girl snarls, clearly airing out her disdain with no sense of misplaced blame.

It has nothing to do with me, don’t get involved, nothing to do with me, repeats in his head but the anger is thrumming through his veins and his blood screams at him to do something. He pushes his chair back before he knows it, feet firm on wooden ground as he strides a long step forward—

“I don’t,” she says quietly, but it rings loud against the noisy silence of the cafe business, “I never thought I was.”

—and he stops.

Her level gaze never falters, but the softness of her words don’t match how hard and deep they strike him to the core. "Why do you think I'll meet a different end than you?" She shakes her head offers a bittersweet smile, more bitter than sweet, “I can assure you our endings won’t be much different.”

“Kihyun isn’t the type to change.”

The girl looks a little taken aback, but her tongue is tied and her malice breathing its last, dying breath.

The tension fizzles out like that.

“I’m so sorry, I left you alone in such a common place with so much traffic,” comes Kihyun’s worried, worried voice, warm and filled to the brim with genuine concern. “I saw her on my way back, did she talk to you? Did she give you any trouble?”

“No, Kihyun. She didn’t mean it. She’s was hurt, that’s all, still not over her heartbreak.”

Kihyun scoffs, “Hurt? Not over her heartbreak? She gave me the dirtiest stink eye earlier, if eyes had lasers I would be nothing but ashes.”

She sighs, but it’s fond.

Hyungwon can physically hear the way she folds and tucks away her raw ruefulness underneath a smile. “We just talked a little, she reminded me how lucky I am for being with you.”

Kihyun laughs in love, amused and overflowing with happiness. Hyungwon wonders how Kihyun fails to pinpoint the uncertainty weighing her shoulders and the missing beats of her heart.

Why do you think I’ll meet a different end than you?

But it has nothing to do with him, so he takes a sip of his coffee.

Our endings won’t be much different.

Cold.

Hyungwon finds it difficult to swallow.

In his carelessness, he drops a glass.

Hyungwon sees the way the glass shatters onto the white tile floor in slow motion. Completeness, a whole, then imperfect, unmatched fragments, breaking into pieces and parts, parts and pieces—

In a million diamond pieces, it glitters with breathtaking beauty and hidden cruelty, and in that beautiful cruelness, he cuts himself on the shattered shards.

Don’t broken pieces combine into completeness? Aren’t shattered shards an imperfect piece of perfection?

Rich redness dribbles down his palm, and he follows the blood flow, but his mind, lost, wandering in wonder.

A whole is a sum of its parts. How are parts summed together to make a whole?

A gasp.

“Hyungwon!”

He turns to the kitchen doorway, and she stands, struck, face colourless with concern.

How can you fix broken perfection when you’re missing shattered parts?

“You need to be careful, Hyungwon.”

“It’s just a small wound,” he protests, indignation sparking alive, “it’ll heal in no time.”

She huffs, blown up and adorably miffed as she blots liquid redness away from the bleeding cut on his palm. It’s not like he wants an injury on his hand either, but Hyungwon can’t help the upwards curl of his mouth as he watches her administer first aid.

“It will heal,” she sighs, “you don’t need to get stitches, at least. But why were you letting yourself bleed out all over the glass?”

He laughs a little nervously. Well.

“I got lost in thought for a second...maybe?”

...

“Maybe you need to wean off your coffee addiction. On the contrary to popular belief, I think too much caffeine makes you lag.”

In mid scoff, an involuntary hiss escapes him as she dabs alcohol over the open skin. She looks up with a playful frown on her face, “Does it hurt, you big baby?”

“You’re being mean,” he jokes, “my heart hurts.”

But she agrees, humming nonchalantly, almost too nonchalant for the sudden depth to her voice. “The worst wounds are the ones you can’t see. The ones that hurt the most are the wounds that hurt the heart.”

“And wounds that hurt the heart,” she says, final, cradling his hand gently, “are the ones that others can’t help you heal.”

He falls quiet, because he’s not quite sure how to respond. There’s too many secrets hidden among too many doors, and Hyungwon doesn’t want to knock too hard and suddenly find himself an intruder. She finishes the wrapping of white bandages with a clean knot, tucking loose ends neatly into place, “Well, that’s that.”

Nodding, Hyungwon rises to clean up the mess still on the floor, but she scrunches her nose and huffs at him, a silent bid to sit back down. He’s too tired to argue, so he does, and swallows the little bit of guilt that lingers. He watches her pick up the glass, one cautious shard by shard, and he thinks she looks like she’s collecting broken pieces of herself. His heart squeezes, he takes a deep breath, and—

“The gossip. Those rumors. You don’t have to take that kind of behaviour from his exes, strangers, staff, whatever.”

She hums in true nonchalance, “I’m fine, really. They’re not asking the wrong questions, either.”

She sweeps up the remaining minuscule cuts on the floor, invisible to the eye but still shimmering, glinting with subdued beauty in the passover of light.

Then softer, like a little secret told out loud, “They’re asking the same questions I ask myself.”

It’s the fact that Hyungwon knows she fully means every single word she says that makes his simmering emotions bubble over and burst.

“Why? Why are you letting them hurt you? Why don’t you tell Kihyun?”

“It doesn’t hurt me—”

“You should tell Kihyun anyways, he would want to know!”

If I were Kihyun, I would want to know. I would need to know.

“I don’t want to worry him when it doesn't bother me, and,” she stops, blinks once, and exhales the tiniest quiver in her voice away to calmness—

“I’ll just be another goodbye in the end, anyway.”

It’s absolutely absurd to Hyungwon. He doesn’t know much about relationships, sure, he doesn’t know much about love, but he knows Yoo Kihyun.

“I’ve never seen him love anyone like he loves you,” he confesses, “you have nothing to be afraid of.”

She looks at him, and his breath loses itself to the glint of soft tragedy in her eyes. He sees hopelessness at peace, he thinks she’s too restrained for a heart that Kihyun’s so careful not to shatter—

Hyungwon realizes she’s been shattered all along, by her own hands.

Like broken glass pieces, sadness sparkling on cold tile floors.

“I’m not afraid he’ll leave me,” she whispers, barely, and it’s the only thing that falls from her lips with complete certainty, “I’m waiting for when he will.”

Something stirs in his chest again.

This time, it aches.

The sun dips lower into the horizon, and the sunset stars flicker. Something about the dying light and the golden glow caught in the tangles of her hair pulls him in too deep and under the edge, the sky a thousand novas for a thousand old wounds gasping to resurface, and Hyungwon is just so tired of toeing lines.

Do you hate yourself?

The question leaves his lips before he realizes, four rogue little words escaping without a destination to cross an invisible boundary, but forever searching, searching and searching.

Her eyes lower to secrets and unspoken wisdom, and the corners of her lips pull up. Hyungwon holds his breath because, for a moment, he can’t see starlight reflected in the glassy distance of her pupils. It’s a complex blend of bittersweetness, the smile that she forms; a little amusement, a little morbidness, and his chest aches as he can’t even begin to unravel everything in between. Then, she’s so unbearably soft, almost unheard in the wind but piercing through the confines of his heart.

“Why did you hate yourself, Hyungwon?”

He freezes. The orange afterglow of setting sunlight is still warm, but a tentative chill settles in icy pricks along his skin.

He remembers long nights, hard nights, sleepless nights, when exhaustion of the body and mind rooted so far into his soul that he just couldn’t rest. He remembers moonlight misery reflecting off his glass windows, ghost whispers of not being good enough, not measuring up, never ever catching the trailing threads of success. Fake it until you make it, was what he was taught, but some part of him screamed he would never make it, and all his efforts, futile. He still doesn’t know how he managed to pretend he glittered gold for so long while he believed he was dirt. She eyes him in his memories, all too knowing for someone that has not been through those experiences, and Hyungwon can’t help but shudder.

“You have that look, too. That look of someone who is going through or have gone through it. It’s an almost crippling uncertainty, but it’s also not baseless insecurity, isn’t it? The uneasiness can dull to almost nothing, but it never quite leaves—”

She breathes out into dusk, and shifts her head to hold his sight. He almost flinches, almost shys away from her eyes. For once, she’s holding nothing back, and the bareness makes him feel too exposed, his steel armours overturned and vulnerabilities unearthed.

“You have it, Hoseok has it, Minhyuk has it too, but Kihyun’s not one of you,” she says, dead center bullseye and an arrow straight through his heart. The way her voice floods with unconditional love and acceptance wants to bring Hyungwon on his knees. “You know this better than I do as Kihyun’s longtime friend, don’t you? This little something Kihyun can’t understand, never will understand. He knows he’s someone the universe made to shine.”

She laughs lightly, fond but a bit dry, and stars are lost in the crescents of her eyes.

“I’m not as extreme as you seem to think, though. I don’t hate myself, not at all. I wouldn’t have said yes to Kihyun if it was like that.”

Confusion bursts, because Hyungwon just knows there’s something more. His forehead wrinkles, concern flooding in his voice as he starts, “But you...you’re not okay—”

His thoughts fade out into white noise as she raises her hand towards him and tiptoes. His pulse quickens seeing her so close, and he blinks in subtle panic. Then, he feels the warmth of her fingertips gently smoothing the tension folded between his brows away, and he just stares.

“It’s not so bad, Hyungwon, don’t waste your worries on me,” she says, all quiet and tender, as if that could soften the hard blow to the hard truth—

”I just don’t know how to love myself.”

That’s even more awful, not knowing how, Hyunwon wants to argue, anger alive on her behalf, but he sees her sorrow and her unshed tears and the words die on his tongue. Instead, he reaches up and takes her hand into his.

Hyungwon gives her a gentle squeeze. Hating would be easier. There’s a thin line between love and hate. Love can bloom into hate and hate can grow into love, but what can be molded when it comes to an I don’t know?

She gives him another bittersweet smile, understanding, and slips her hand away. The memory of warmth lingers on his skin with the sudden emptiness.

He watches her turn back out to the sky, but when he follows her gaze, the sky has already darkened several shades of night, the stars are not brighter but bleaker, and it feels like he’s falling.

Hyungwon dreams of broken glass, of gentle hands, of a beating heart that loves bravely without loving itself.

He collects the pieces of glittering glass into his hands, and it glows with injured iridescence in the mild lull of sunlight at dusk. Then, there’s a heart in his hands, beating bare and bleeding.

It won’t stop beating even though it bleeds.

It bleeds through angry out-of-place stitches, too clean and disturbingly artificial. The thin threads do nothing but wound the heart more, tearing the flesh in uneven gashes at the seams.

With docile fingers, Hyungwon removes the stitches and lets it bleed, and the blood flow begins to lessen, from a rough river to a gentle trickle. His hands stain wet red, but soft pulses flutter against the skin of his palm and for a moment, he thinks the heart is beating for him.

He almost forgets how to breathe. His own heartbeat skips four times, and with each missed beat, he yearns harder and he falls deeper.

He thinks he would give his own to keep the heart beating.

I love you. I love you, I love you—

I l o v e y o u.

He dreams.

It’s just a dream.

Bad days come and bad days go. His bad days catch up to him to seize him at gunpoint, and Hyungwon surrenders without a fight. A dejavu to his silly teenage years, again, he’s a self-caged captive with invisible chains and no one else to blame.

Pathetic.

There’s a pit in his stomach, a void in his chest, darker than black and an endless hole. He wants to cry but his veins are bloodless, his emotions in overdrive and he feels too much and nothing all at once.

He curls into himself more and he wishes everything would just stop and go away—

He groans inwardly when he hears the unmistakable click of the apartment door. A quick mental count of schedules tells him it has to be Minhyuk or Kihyun or both, and he really does not feel like humouring either in his current state. Then, he hears distinctly feminine footsteps and for some reason, relief stirs in the numbness of his core.

“Hyungwon…?”

She’s peering at him from the doorway. Her brows are furrowed, lips twisted into a frowning pout and Hyungwon knows she can tell something is wrong. She disappears down the hallway, and returns with a pillow and a blanket.

Hyungwon lets her maneuver him around, obediently lifting his head so she can slide the pillow underneath. She tucks the blanket up to his chin and makes sure his head properly supported by the pillow, and her easy acceptance already makes something in him more grounded.

“Do you need some time alone?”

He shakes his head, “Can you stay?”

He only needs to ask once. Without question, she settles on the floor next to him. Normally, Hyungwon would be a little unnerved at the way she was watching him so carefully, but he knows her now and her kindness, so he finds himself relaxing in her air of concern and comfort instead.

In a smaller voice, he admits, “I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”

Hyungwon thinks he’s a grown man and he still can’t handle the width of his emotions, can’t hide them or mask them long enough without cracking miserably at the edges.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I,” he turns to her and his eyes water.

“Oh Hyungwon,” she coos with a sigh, leaning closer, she brushes wisps of his hair out of his face, “of course not. It's okay not to be okay.”

Her fingers kiss his eyelids so he lets his eyes falls shut and listens to her over the beat of his pulse.

“You’re more than what anything thinks of you, Hyungwon,” her touch trails the curve of his nose, “You’re more and what you think of you.”

“You’re doing your best, and that’s enough.”

At that, he opens his eyes to look at her, pointedly.

“You should tell that to yourself, too. Take your own advice,” he huffs.

She smiles back, amused but a little sullen. She presses a finger against the thickness of his lips. “That’s the secret, isn’t it? The fight between what you know and what you feel. It’s a losing war for my knows, though.”

His lips tingle at the phantom touch of her fingertips.

Her eyes are clear and deep with untold insecurities that he thinks he could drown in them. He wants to drown in them. He doesn’t understand why Kihyun can’t see them, even if he doesn’t understand them.

His heart skips, falling, and he’s not sure if he’s anchoring himself or his heart when he reaches out and grasps at the soft knit of her sweater. She gently pats his arm in a soothing gesture, “It’s okay, I’ll stay, Hyungwon.”

He closes his eyes again. He doesn’t let go and he seals his fate, fallen.

I love you.

It’s not just a dream.

When he wakes, she’s still on the floor next to him, but her fingers are slotted in-between his. She’s asleep and her cheek is nestled close by his side; Hyungwon can’t help but smile at the soft little exhales of her breathing. He keeps their fingers entwined while he collects his consciousness, then, he notes, there’s a blanket carefully draped over her.

He hears Kihyun singing from the kitchen, the faint sizzling of stir-fry, along with muffled clatters of pots and pans. Hyungwon slips his hand away.

Later, he realizes they cancelled their date. She waves him off and just asks if he’s feeling better. Kihyun too, is not bothered at all, tells him to take care of himself and never asks for an explanation.

Love fills him, and Hyungwon knows he matters to both of them, but reality checks and remorse quickly follows.

He can’t do this to Kihyun.

Kihyun doesn’t understand, but he does.

Uncertainty. Uneasiness. Insecurity. The cycle of having doubt constantly clawing at your insides, stitching invisible wounds, then waking up next to anxiety and bringing misery to bed.

He’s past that. He’s supposed to be past that. It’s been years since he had last seen the stranger of insecurity and self-hate, but he still remembers the struggle as vividly as yesterday.

It’s been a long time since Hyungwon had truly hated himself.

The clock turns three am and he thinks of her. He thinks of gentleness and unconditional acceptance, of her eyes and her smile. He thinks of the way she’s broken without bleeding, of how she’s so capable of holding herself so sturdy in her uncertainty.

And hate crawls out of his grave, his familiar stranger. His ears ring to the trembling noise thrumming in his veins, his heart flutters painfully, and there’s something he’s been denying for far too long.

Hyungwon realizes, he knows why he’s been hating, why hate has slithered out of his slumbering shadows to strangle him blue.

He hates himself—

He hates himself for falling in love with a heart that belongs to someone else.

He hates himself for falling in love so completely, so irreversibly, that he would be okay with anything as long as that someone else learns how to love happily.

Maybe, most of all, he hates himself for loving so selflessly.

Fallen hearts are bound together just to break, he believed.

He was wrong.

Hyungwon isn’t bounded, but he would still break his fallen heart and hand it over on a golden platter if his broken pieces could fix hers.

The walls in their home are too thin.

“I don’t know, Kihyun. I can’t, not yet.”

“Why not? You get along fine with my members. My family isn’t much different.”

“It’s not that. It’s just. I. I don’t know if I’m confident enough.”

The adoration in Kihyun’s chuckles are hardly filtered out by the walls.

“It’s fine, I'm confident one. I have enough confidence for the both of us. It’s like how I love you and how I’m loving enough for the both of us.”

No, Hyungwon thinks, that’s not helping her at all.

“You’ll be fine because I’m by your side. For now, just think about it, okay?”

He hears her breathe out, long and winded.

“Okay, I’ll think about it, but give me a little more time.”

He doesn’t find the embrace of sleep, that night.

What is love when you love something broken?

Is it love for what is was before it became shattered parts and pieces? The memories of when it was whole?

Is it love for what it could be if it was built back together whole? The potential of being fixed?

Or is it love because it’s broken?

Love for it being broken, love because the brokenness is in your hands to break further or to fix.

Kihyun, Hyungwon wants to plead, wants to ask, wants to beg, don’t just love her for being broken.

She looks like she wants to cry.

Her eyes are dry, but something about the way she blinks and squeezes her eyes shut gives her away.

His heart hurts, seeing her like this. He wishes he could cradle her face in his hands and tenderly rub the exhaustion out of her eyes. Instead, he takes a seat next to her and purses his lips.

“Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, “No, I don't think I am.”

Hyungwon frowns. He spreads his arms and pats his chest, an open invitation. She takes it, leaning in, tucking herself under his chin and resting her forehead on his shoulder. She inhales, shaky and unsteady.

“Kihyun tells that I’ll be okay because he’s with me, because he loves me. Does that mean I won’t be okay if it’s just me? That’s not right, isn’t it? But then, without him, what am I?”

“You’re just you,” he says, and he wishes he was wiser, with more words to give, “that’s already more than enough.”

He feels her eyes close against his collarbone, a brief flutter of lashes and she admits, “I don’t think I can learn how to love myself.”

“Why? I was worse than you, I hated myself. I’m past it now, and you can too.”

Against him, she shakes, and her voice rises a pitch higher, a touch more frantic, “It seems like such a faraway never and I don’t believe in myself. How can I believe he loves me when I don’t love myself? I know he does. It’s not about him, I’m not insecure about him loving me.”

And Hyungwon knows. When it came to Kihyun’s love, for her, it was never insecurity.

“I know Kihyun and I can’t go on like this. He doesn’t understand and I thought it was okay but it’s not. I don’t expect anything of him, but I’ll still hurt when it ends. But it can’t hurt any worse than now, can it?”

She shudders, hands clutching at his shirt as she buries her face in it. Even muffled, the way her voice breaks off is strikingly clear.

“I love him, Hyungwon. But loving him is hurting me.”

His heart throbs in waves of unadulterated pain, a dagger’s gash through muscle.

She’s close to tears. A dry sob leaves her lips, and he hates the sound of her giving up.

“I can’t do this, Hyungwon.”

“You can,” he says, patting her back. Because I love you, he wants to say, because I can see the whole picture from your broken parts. A different sort of beauty, shattered but complete like a stained glass mosaic, lit up in colour at sunset. I will wait while you piece them together, a puzzle, one step at a time.

“It would be so much easier if I could believe you,” she whispers.

Hyungwon wishes he could hold her forever, chase away her demons and make her believe.

Hyungwon finds himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He’s entering the key pin when the door pushes open with a resounding click. Kihyun doesn’t see him, his sharp profile facing straight ahead and somewhat in a trance. He’s one feet out the door, but the other foot lags behind, hesitant, as if he can’t bear to exit. He stays like that for a few minutes, and Hyungwon can’t bring himself to move.

Then, Kihyun sees him, but he squints as if he’s not sure he’s really there. Hyungwon can see wet complication glistening against the redness of his eyes, and the shorter man quickly blinks a few times.

“Make sure she’s okay,” he says, thickly, and he swallows and stops as if each word caused him torment, “please.”

Oh.

Even if it had to happen, he didn’t think it would happen this soon.

Hyungwon can only nod.

Kihyun turns and leaves, and he looks like he’s leaving something for eternity, as if he was going somewhere he could never return. He can see the shorter man’s shoulders heave, but he never looks back.

Hyungwon knows.

If Kihyun looked back, he would stay.

Hyungwon has never seen prideful Kihyun look so small, so defeated, so wounded.

He finds her fading into the dim glow of the kitchen. Her face is passive, blank eyes unfocused. She’s staring off into glazed memories, lost in newfound nothingness. His searching gaze zeros in to her hands, her fingers pressured white from their grip on the marble counter, clutching the edge for life as if she would fall forever, a bottomless drop.

He hears her breathing quiver, and dread builds heavy in the pit of his stomach, queasy.

He clears his throat hesitantly, swallowing some uneasiness.

At his cue, she turns towards him, and all he can see are defeated eyes, bleary but glossy, glistening with heartbreak. His chest squeezes, tight and with worry.

“Hyungwon,” her voice is so drenched, trembling with weakness but still feebly trying to hold herself together. She takes another breath, and he can physically see something in her break. “Hyungwon,” she whispers his name in a small, wobbly breath, and he hates the way it sounds.

In haste, he approaches her and places an unsteady arm around her shoulders.

It’s the final straw that breaks her completely.

She curls into him, as if seeking comfort to ease the chaos in her mind and the war in her heart. He can almost hear her shattering, and her already shattered pieces grinding into dust.

“Hyungwon,” she tries again, “Kihyun—”

Her voice breaks with wetness. He hugs her closer to him.

“I know, it’s okay,” he soothes, “You don’t have to say it. I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He tucks her head under his chin, his hand a supporting pillar against a crumbling building at her back. She’s shaking, unbearably tiny and he wonders how he can keep her from falling apart in his arms, from whole to pieces and from pieces to scattered ashes.

A whimper escapes her, then a sob, another, louder, and it escalates into hysteria.

He purses his lips, the beat of his pulse pounding with second-hand pain. The saltine wetness that seeps through his shirt burns hot acid on his skin. Each sob is a poisoned dart aimed straight at his vitals, and he keens and keens. His own eyes sting and he lowers his eyelids with heavy exhale.

It hurts.

Even if it meant his heart breaking on the sidelines, he wishes they ended with a happily ever after. He knows it’s out of his hands, but he wishes he could’ve done more for her and Kihyun.

Still, a stupidly selfless fool.

She chokes on her own tears and her hand fists into the fabric of his jacket. Her grief trembles right into his chest, right next to his heart, and his heart palpitates with torment. He wonders if it is possible for his heart explode from the anguish.

This hurts so much more.

His stupid heart, fallen and still falling, bleeding with cupid’s poisoned arrow shot through his pulsing flesh.

Hyungwon realizes, he would rather have his heart breaking over a million times than watch hers break once.

#monsta x #monsta x imagines #monsta x fanfic #hyungwon #monsta x x reader #angst #grew into a huge word monster #i had planned to finish this like 4 months ago but i lost inspiration #i had such a hard time writing this you have no idea #minesw

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tintinwrites · 5 years

Text

tonight | Poe Dameron x Reader | Part Three

A/N: I meant to post this last night, but I fell asleep lol.

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words. Reader is having some inner turmoil.

Word count: 993, apparently!!

Summary: You, a First Order officer, and Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance, are drawn to each other from the moment you meet. Very loosely based on West Side Story, which is obvs based on Romeo and Juliet.

Masterlist

GIF credit: No idea, but it’s not mine.

Tags: @yana-versio @bobateaandchocolatepudding @yeeterbenjaminparker @aroseamongthestars @unicorntrooper @helaintoloki @marvelous-revengers

You wept. You wept because an entire planet was destroyed. You wept because the First Order was responsible. You wept because everything Poe Dameron told you was true.

You declined leaving out of your own fear, and now you were stuck. You had to lie to General Hux about how your tears were of happiness, you had to pretend you weren't slightly thrilled when the Resistance attacked your base, you had to hide your worry as Poe attacked the dreadnought, and you had to hold back your tears as your group took out most of theirs.

It all seemed to pass by so quickly that you were on some planet before you knew it, feeling numb. You were overseeing a group of stormtroopers that were trying to find allies, to build up the First Order before the Resistance could build up themselves.

You could have run. There was a forest just outside the village, and you could have run into it and laid in a stream, let them think you were taken.

Then you could start a new life, created all by yourself so you knew everything was true.

Perhaps you were going mad.

Definitely. Your feet were carrying you towards the forest of their own accord before someone grabbed you, pulling you into an alley between two buildings and putting a hand over your mouth.

You screamed, then you kicked, and you heard a grunt, and you were pushed against a wall.

"Hey. Hey! It's me!" The voice was familiar. Your gaze came to focus on none other than Poe Dameron, who lowered his hand when you froze in shock.

"Poe?" Your shock wore off quickly when you thought of the sizable group of stormtroopers just a few buildings down. "You can't be here! The First Order is—"

"Yeah, I gathered that." He looked over your uniform. "Gotta say, I was hoping you would've left them by now."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Just can't." I'm a coward.

"You're scared."

Well, shit. You gave him an unconvincing smile and attempted to lie, but your brain refused to let you tell one.

"Look, I have a ship just outside the village." He nodded in the direction of the other end of the alley. "It's a pile of junk and it'll be a tight fit, but I can get you out of here."

"I..." I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. Instead of saying so, you just stared at him longingly. What if you did leave? What if you followed Poe Dameron to his ship and let him fly you away from here? What if you joined the Resistance? What if you found freedom with kind, handsome Poe?

"Where is she? Contact General Hux immediately!" It was the voice of a stormtrooper, just outside the alley. You quickly wiggled free from between Poe and the wall, starting to move away.

"I have to go."

You made it all of two feet before he grabbed your arm. "You're a good kid. You don't belong with people like them and I can't leave you in good conscience."

"Why do you care so much?"

"'Cause I'm a caring guy?" An emotion you couldn't place flitted through his gaze. "And there's something about you that I can't leave behind."

There was something about him, too, that you didn't understand and tried your best to tell yourself it was just his kindness. "I can't go with you. But..." You leaned forward before you could second guess yourself, whispering coordinates into his ear. "We'll be there at sunrise, so get there before us and convince them of the Resistance."

You ran then, back to your troop, assuring them that you had just been wandering around.

As your ship moved into the air, you saw Poe waving at you.

He didn't get there before you did. He got there after you and motioned for you from behind a bush, and you only went to him because your stormtroopers would take a little while.

You were going to berate him for not going to the planet first.

You hadn't intended to follow him somewhere more secluded and start a conversation with him. You hadn't intended to hang onto his every word and then return your own words like he was your most trusted friend.

Perhaps he was. There was just that something about him that kept you thinking about him, wanting to be around him.

You realized hours had passed when the sun was high. "I have to go before they contact General Hux." You were by his ship and you actually had to focus on moving your feet to get them to go anywhere.

"The offer still stands."

"What?" You paused.

"I'll get you out of here."

"—I can't."

He smirked — you really liked it when he did that — and moved closer to you, putting a slip of paper into your hand. You looked down to find coordinates on it. "We're preparing, but we should be there in two weeks. Give me another chance to convince you to come with me."

You stared at the paper for a moment, then looked up at him. "I'll think about it." You would be going. You would be going because you liked being around him, and you felt safe, and you felt cared about, and maybe you would take him up on his offer one day.

You just needed to be less scared.

One day you would be less scared.

"Y/N?" Your name, so safe on his tongue, made you turn around. "I look forward to it."

"I said I'd think about it." You were smiling in a way you'd never experienced before; it was uncontrollable and accompanied by the feeling that you could float up into the air at any moment.

He was still smirking and you turned back around, making your way back to the area your troopers expected you to be.

You hoped you were brave enough in two weeks.

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic #THESE KIDS #aren't they so cute #will reader go tho #WHO KNOWS #read the next chapter #thank you for reading!#tonight

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tidustargaryen · 5 years

Text

Loneliness is my fur coat and my only friend

Well, I have not written anything for a very long time, but I felt compelled to contribute to Daenerys. After all she has to go through, I want only one thing, happiness for her, I do not think she will be happy in Westeros, sincerely. I do not see her ending up as a peasant woman, even if she dreamed of it, with, unfortunately, only one dragon now, she can do so much, that she will always feel compelled to use it to bring freedom, peace, where it can, but not to Westeros. I also did not expect a happy ending for Jonerys, honestly I know that Jon could never be happy in the south, we see him besides in his scene with Tormund and Ghost, he is held by an oath to Dany, but we can see that he is unhappy, and that he would like to stay north. And Dany, it's not her place in the north, but I did not expect him to reject her like that ... Nor did I expect Northerners to be so ungrateful after she was helped north against Night King, I really thought that Sansa and Arya would thank her, but most of all, I did not think Jon would leave her alone ... He does not realize how much she must be sad, and how lonely must she feel? We know the story of Dany, we know that what always accompany Dany is loneliness, that's why I have a hard time forgiving Jon, let alone D & D, no matter what what happens next, he completely abandon her when she most needed him ... We're asked to understand Jon because it's hard for him the revelation, but do they understand Dany ... Can not he be there for her, just a little hug, no need for sex if he is uncomfortable, just comfort her, is not asking too much ?

I did not even appreciate their kiss, while the boatsex ... yum lol But the scene where she is alone during the feast, Jon does not even see that she's leaving, and he's not even going to see her, she's the one who has to go see him ... Then the look of disgust he has when he pushes her away ... I have lost taste for the Jonerys couple, maybe it'll come back, I'm happy for you if you still get to ship them, but I'm not. I'm going to look for fics with Dany in the main character, fics to her glory ^^ Without men if possible .... But I thank all the authors who have spent time writing, there are stories that were really worth it.

I do not know if it's good, English is not my mother tongue, so ... Surely full of mistakes lol

And I'm warning, it's very sad ... I'm going to do a little bit of toshop to do a kind of moodboard, I'll post it again later, when I have time, but I do not guarantee it will be good either, it's been a very long time that I did not use the software ^^

I also wanted to pay tribute to Dany and Missandei :) The sister Dany never had.

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The dust layer had found its place on the painted table, just as the first time she had entered this room, she touched her finger all the way until she reached the edge of the room giving a wonderful view on the environment composing the island. Except, this time, Tyrion was not present, she had wished to remain alone, she was alone ...

Silence reigning all around her, except the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks, emptiness had invaded space, as it had invaded her heart. Had she been such a sad person ? So alone? Not even when she still had Viserys, not even in her life just wandering the streets in search of food and escaping the murderers. It would give everything to find this time, with Viserys ... What a drama ...

But at least they would still be alive ...

And the Dothaki, they were the people who gave her everything, without them she would not be the woman she is today. She was only the toy, the slave of Viserys, weak, useless, but with the Dothraki, she had found people who loved her, who respected her, they had delivered her ... Of course,she had also had her difficult moments, at first, life is never easy ... But it was the beginning of a new life, a better life. And she had led them at their death ...

How could she still stand, she did not know, but she felt so empty. After all she had lost because of the Night King ... Why her?

It was so hard to look Grey Worm in the eye now. She had failed him, failed her people, failed her friend, her confidante, her sister ... Sweet Missandei, if only I had sent you back to Naath earlier ...

I regret so much my dear friend, will you ever be able to forgive me, no matter where you are now?

-------

“My Queen ?” She had found the North so cold, the people even more, they clearly did not like strangers, even those who came to save them ... Of course she knew they would have had a hard time accepting a Targaryen, given what her father had done to the Starks, and if what was said about Rhaegar was true ... But her people was in no way responsible. She blamed herself for taking Missandei to such a place, she was so kind, so sweet, these people did not even know her, and yet they gave her such nasty looks ... This place was clearly not a place where she was loved. Even Jon had been so distant with her ...

" My queen… ? "

"Sorry Missandei, I think the cold got the better of me. "

"Do you want me to go find Jon Snow?” Missandei had a slight smile on her face as she waited for her Queen's answer.

"I ... No ... I do not think he wants to see me ... I mean ... he has to be busy ..." Her friend walked over to her and took her hand giving her a reassuring look.

"You deserve a good man, he is a good man my Queen, you should ask him if anything annoys you.” Of course, Missandei had also noticed, after a month on a boat where her Queen had been often busy, that the Northerners had not been very present these days, they had just arrived in a foreign place, with people very difficult it was understandable for her that her Queen desires the company of a man for whom she had developed a sudden dependency.

"Thank you, my friend, but I am afraid that these days we are going to spend here are going to be very sad, very cold and very hard. I regret having driven you to such a strange place. "

"We will follow you to the end of the world, and we will defeat this monster for Viserion, but I would like to ask you something ..." Daenerys shook hands with her friend, urging her to continue. "Grey Worm and myself, once you have your throne, would like to live in Naath ..."

Daenerys smiled at her friend, she would be sad to lose her, but nothing would brint her more joy than to see her friend happy. "Of course, you know you do not have to ask, you and Grey Worm are free. "

----

... .If only she had known ...

The Unsullied were trained warriors to no longer feel emotions, nor pain, and yet she could see how much Grey Worm was suffering ... She would give her own life a hundred times if it could make his lover back to life.

Anyway, she did not have much, except Drogon ...

Rhaegal ... my child ...

I swore that no one was going to take you to me after Viserys, Drogo and Rhaego ... I failed again ... Am I a monster to lead all people who believe in me or who love me to death ?

Viserion, Rhaegal, she might lose Drogon if she continued ... My children ... And why? A country of ungrateful people who would never be able to love her?

When she arrived at Dragonstone, she had felt that she was not at home, just as she certainly was not in the North, how ironic that she had been searching for her house all her life, believing Westeros was her home... I only found death here, death and disappointment. I do not belong anywhere, I do not belong to anyone?

Not even Jon ...

She had thought to find love here in those desolate lands, and that's right, she loved him, oh she loved him so much ... It was perhaps her biggest mistake, she had given him her time her body, her heart, her armies, her dragons, and what remained to her now? A tiny little army and Drogon ... She had felt so lonely in the North, she understood that he could not be very present for her, he had to organize Winterfell's defense, he had to spend time with his family. Was not she his family to ? Even if they did not share this blood tie?

No, clearly he was not. She had not really had time to appreciate that she was no longer the last of her family, in other circumstances she would have been delighted, but this revelation would make her lose everything, everything she was fighting for since she was a child, Jon had pushed her away, and soon the wolves and the lions, as well as the serpents, would feast on her corpse and place a "male" heir on the throne. Why did not he just understand that? He did not want to be a king, she knew it, they knew it too, but who cares ... She was a woman, impulsive like her Hand liked to say, a mixture that did not make a good Queen apparently ... And Jon ... An honorable and fair man an ideal candidate, even if he did not want it, would he have made a good king if he had been unhappy in the South and in his duty? Surely not, but what does it matter ....

After all she had gone through in her life, now that she was on the verge of having what she wanted, everything was torn out, again. I had a family one day, and everything was tear off away from me because of my naivety. Had she been too naive to think that she could still have a family, a man who loves her? If she had not let herself be guided by her emotions for Jon, maybe things would have been different ...

The worst had been to see the look of disgust in his eyes after he pushed her away. The drink had made him forget of their blood tie, but his honor had quickly reminded him that she was her aunt ...

Why did it have to bother him so much? My family always practicing incest to keep the lineage pure, for the dragons ... My parents were brothers and sisters ... it did not bother him the first time he came to knock on my door ... My blood forever was a sin in the eyes of his Gods, and yet, he still wanted me ... Why now ?

Maybe....

Maybe...

Who could love a dragon.... ? Not even another dragon...

Three betrayals ...

It was a long time ago, so long ago that she had forgotten, or maybe she had trusted him too much to think that it could be her betrayal for love ... I told him to not trust his sisters, of course, Sansa had immediately informed her Hand, he chose to trust her, not me ... He knew what kind of man was Varys, he knew that from the moment a male heir is available, Varys will plot against me so that I die ... He certainly does not wish for my death, I know, of that I am sure ... But he would have been responsible ... Because he has chose not to trust me. Could he love me if he did not even trust me?

She had given him so much, and lost a lot by following him to the North. Oh of course she did not regret coming to help, how could she leave all these people, even if they had no gratitude, no love for her, to be enslaved in death by the Night King. She really deserved her title of the Breaker of Chains.

Where maybe she should have stayed in Essos, she would never have known, and her people would still be there, and Jon would be dead ...

A noise brought her back to reality, she kept her lost gaze on the ocean but allowed her visitor to enter the room.

"Your Grace," Tyrion came in and noticed the neglected aspect of his Queen, never since he served her he had seen her so bad ... She looked like the people of Flea Bottom, certainly much more beautiful, and less dirty, much less fragrant too ... He had pain for his Queen. He had doubts, he was tearing up between his family and the hope that he had put in Daenerys Targaryen, and he had failed in his task, and because of that, he was part of the reasons why his Queen was here, in mourning.

He had ended up denouncing Varys, and revealing what Sansa had entrusted to him, perhaps it was a way to redeem himself, although he knew that nothing could ever redeem the disappointment he had been once again, as it had been in his father's eyes, except this time he deserved it. Varys had of course been executed by fire, as Daenerys had promised him so little time ago, when she still had her dragons, Missandei, her armies ... The Greyjoy, the Martells, the Tyrells ... If only I had not wanted to save the life of Cersei, and the baby ...

"The troops of the North should still put a fortnight to arrive ..."

"Never mind ..." Daenerys turned around and looked at Tyrion at last. "Send a horseman, warned the Warden of the North that I would no longer need his armies, tell him that I am sincerely sorry for having made them go all this way for nothing. Warn him that food will be sent to the North as an excuse. "

"My queen ... But Cersei, the Iron Throne ...? "

"An iron chair that has made too many victims ... I saw it once in my dreams, really ugly, I'm sure you'll agree with that ..." Daenerys had this fatality in the voice that displeased Tyrion. She turned back to the ocean while her hand proceeded to what she had said.

"I pride myself on being a smart man, but I confess that now I do not understand you. "

"I refuse to risk the life of my last child Lord Tyrion. I will not stand it. And if I manage to escape from your sister's Scorpions, she will still refuse to give me the city, and if she burns the red dungeon with the Wildfire? Innocent people will die, far too many innocent people. There were enough deaths ... "

"My sister will not leave you alone ..."

"I will not stay at Dragonstone ..." Tyrion took a few steps back, refusing to believe that his Queen, this proud Queen Targaryen could give up so easily ... He understood that she could suffer sudden losses, but to the point of giving up this why has she fought since her brother was gone?

"Your Grace, I beg you to reconsider, even if you leave, Cersei will not leave the North alone, you will let it destroy after all you have lost to save them? And Missandei? You do not want to have her ... "

"ENOUGH LORD TYRION! My decision is made and it is irrevocable ... You are free, I discharge you from your duties as Hand of the Queen. "

Tyrion stayed a few moments without being able to say anything ... He stared at the Hand's badge and gently removed it from his coat, placing it on the painted table. He knew that his Queen would not change her mind, he tried a last approach anyway.

"And Jon Snow? He is your blood, but more than that, you love him, you will abandon him to his fate without even saying goodbye? What did he do to deserve such coldness? "

Of course, Daenerys knew that Jon would go back to the North, the real North, where Cersei would never find him. She had seen it in his eyes, he would never have been happy here with me, even if he had finally accepted our bond of blood ...

"He does not want to stay in the South, he does not want to have a relationship with his aunt. He is a Stark, he belongs to the North. I release the slaves, I do not chained him Lord Tyrion, I will never force him to do something he does not want. I will not be the woman who will make him unhappy, I deserve better, and him too. "

She turned around and stared at her old Hand a few moments, "It was pleasant the time that it lasted, thank you for your services, I wish you to be happy. "

"It has been an honor to serve you my Queen, may I ask you what you are going to do now? "

Daenerys watched the waves crash on the rocks, then Drogon who had just appeared in the sky. With a smile at the corner of her mouth she answered Tyrion:

"There is still a place where people need help, where I can still break the wheel, where I can save lives, where people respect me, love me and where I feel a little less alone. "

And so the Queen prepared her departure to Essos, hoping that one day she might be happy, that she would continue to liberate the slaves, that she might find joy in the arms of a man who loved her and that she would end up visiting Naath one day, even if her friend was not there to enjoy it with her, she would never forget it, just as she would never forget Ser Jorah, who had saved her life so many times, and of course, she would forever remember her children, the only ones she would ever have, the one who's still with her, who protected her, and those who had joined her husband, and her son, her brothers, her mother and all these Targaryen ancestors.

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She deserve happiness !!! She deserve the world, and if people have read this, thanks and please, cry with me :’(

#daenerys targaryen #missandei #tyrion lannister

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