#This scene is like an emotional roller-coaster

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f! reader

Description: Sam's nightmare leads the group to Saginaw Michigan. But it's more than a nightmare and it's more than any ol' hunt. Things are revealed about the past as it sends them barreling into the future.

Warnings: Cannon violence, I might have gotten a little too carried away with the beginning scene sorry not sorry! flirtation, banter, mentions of su!cide, gore, mentions of child abuse, mentions of past abuse, guns, a roller coaster of emotions, and a lot of angst (no one can be happy...sorry!)

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 9,912

Nightmare

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

I turn over in my bed, burying my head deeper into the pillows to ignore the loud and insistent banging from my door. I mumble incoherently into the covers, sleep having its claws so deep into my brain. “Please open the door, sweetheart. ‘m tryna give you privacy here but if this door isn’t open in five seconds I’m gonna use my key,” Dean warns loudly, his voice raspy. I hum softly into the bedding but make no move to get up, instead snuggling deeper into the blankets. The remains of sleep creep into the corners of my mind, hazing the rest of my brain.

Suddenly a gentle calloused hand is on my bare shoulder, “Come on baby, as much as I wanna let you sleep Sammy needs us to hurry.”

“Mhm,” I hum halfheartedly, digging myself further into the bed if possible. “Alright that’s it,” he says finally. There's some shuffling before the covers are pulled back, a rush of cold air prickling my exposed legs followed by the warmth of his hands dragging up and down my calves slowly before leaving to pull down my slip nightgown further past my butt. That wakes me up. My eyes flutter open, and as much as I loved my little cotton nightgown every time I wore it to bed I woke up to a full tit out and the bottom up at my hips. Luckily this time I didn’t think it rode up so high, it had only felt like it was just barely covering my butt, so at the most, he saw a flash of my underwear which is not the most ideal thing to happen, and also insanely embarrassing but at least I was wearing one of my cute pairs. And at least he didn’t comment on it, except he did pull it down further which means he probably did see…oh god. 

“Okay! I’m awake Dean!” I say, my words half mumbled by the bed but if I turned over he would also be seeing a boob today and he had seen enough already. His hands grip my ankles, his thumbs rubbing my skin, oh lord. No. I have to focus…and not on how butterflies are erupting in my stomach, fluttering around frantically, “Not convinced baby, not until I see you get up,” he conceded. He was really playing with my resolve and it was a very fickle thing to begin with. 

“Yeah, so if I flip myself around you’d be getting flashed. These nightgowns…just you know…” I admit, my face warm for two different reasons. His thumbs pause and I can practically hear the arch of his brow and that devilish smirk, “By all means, continue…”

“Dean,” I warn.

“I really wouldn’t object to it, wouldn’t complain one bit,” he comments, his voice dripping with amusement. “Dean!” His hands leave me entirely and I suddenly miss the warmth he brought, “Alright, alright,” he gives in, “I’ll go, be waitin’ in the car. I’d hurry though Sam’s freaking out about needing to leave but won't say anythin’ more.”

The initial embarrassment of being woken up the way I was or at least the result of that, as well as being a little “late” had long worn off except for when Dean caught my eyes in the rearview mirror then it all came rushing back. But I needed to screw my head on right, and not get distracted by his playful teasing manner, he was most likely compensating for the fact that he had to say goodbye to the woman he loved again. Ending on good terms aside those feelings don’t just magically disappear especially when it only happened recently. Either way, I was thankful for the nightfall's darkness, because with each gaze my face heated up even if it was against my better judgment. 

I needed to focus.

Sam had his ear pressed into his phone, reading from a fake ID to potentially give real information, “McReady. Detective McReady, badge number 158. I’ve got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven…Yeah okay, just hurry.” 

Dean glances over at his brother, concern written in his eyes, “Sammy relax. I’m sure it’s just a nightmare.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam remarks. 

“You know considering he was right about your old house I’m pretty much convinced he’s right about this one too,” I add. Dean adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, “It could also just be a dream. Y’know, a normal everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won’t check out. You’ll see,” Dean tries to reason though I can't understand why he won’t accept that Sam has been right before and will be right again, my only guess would be fear.

“I mean I suppose,” I shrug, “but even just logically speaking unless you’re lucid dreaming you can’t read in your sleep, as the part of your brain that’s responsible for logic and intellect shuts down. So following that logic, he wouldn’t have been able to read or understand that license plate, that fact must hold some merit here.”

“Alright, maybe he was lucid dreamin’ then,” Dean suggests instead, finding any reason for his brother not to be a psychic. 

“It felt different Dean. Real,” Sam shakes his head, eyes focused as he tries to explain, “Like when I dreamt about the old house and Jessica.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. You’re dreaming about our house, your girlfriend,” Dean points out, “This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?”

“No,” Sam responds. 

“It doesn't matter if you've actually seen someone they can still be in your dreams because when you're walking around you're subconsciously watching and cataloging them,” I explain, “Though of course you're most likely to have dreams about people you see or think about more often, but still people you pass in real life can be in your dream.” Dean catches my eyes again in the mirror, gazing at me questioningly, “Why do you know so much about dreams?”

I shrug, “I don't know, it’s interesting so I just go down a rabbit hole of information. Plus there are a lot of psychological aspects to dreams which can make them important to analysis.” Dean shakes his head as if shaking away the information, “So why would he have premonitions about some random dude from Michigan.”

I rub my eyes, tiredness still trying to cling to me to the point of my eyes aching, “Yeah I don’t have an answer to that one.” Dean turns his gaze to his brother, silently asking him the same question, “I don’t know,” he answers. “Me neither,” Dean shrugs with one shoulder though it was more done to prove his point.

“Yes I’m here,” Sam says suddenly, pressing the phone closer to his ear. He goes silent, listening, then throws a glare at Dean and picks up his pen, “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. ‘You have a street address?… Got it. Thanks.” He moves his phone away from him, clicking a button, most likely hanging up, “Checks out. How far are we?”

“From Saginaw? Coupla hours,” Dean answers. “Drive faster.”

The Impala cruises to a stop, Emergency vehicles lined up followed by two medical examiners pushing a stretcher with a body bag on it just being zippered. We were late and it was hard to know whether it was by a couple of minutes or hours, but it didn’t matter because we were late and someone was dead. 

We approach the crowd, a couple of neighbors dressed in their pajamas and a coat watching the scene from behind a line of caution tape. “What happened?” Dean asks a nearby woman. 

“Suicide,” she answers, “Can’t believe it.”

“Did you know them?” Sam questions, moving to the woman’s other side. 

She frowns, “‘Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine’s,” she replies, oversharing to a couple of strangers but it was helpful so there was no way we would tell her to stop, “He always seems…seemed so normal. I guess you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“Guess not,” Dean acknowledges, looking straight ahead.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say softly, maybe she didn’t know the guy so well but seeing him weekly still meant something. She nods in thanks. 

“How did…uhh” Sam stammers, “How are they saying it happened?” It was a total conversation turn but once more it was necessary. “I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running,” she answers. Carbon dioxide poisoning from a car makes it hard for it to be an accident so of course the initial thought would be suicide and I doubt it would be easy to prove otherwise with a death like that. 

“Do you know about what time they found him,” Sam pushes and I hope she doesn’t think we’re being weird about this and asking a little too many questions. “Oh, ‘just happened about an hour or two ago,” she says. Frick, frick that wasn’t long ago at all. “His poor family,” she continues, “I can’t even imagine what they’re going through.” I follow her gaze to a woman standing on the front steps crying against a middle-aged man. A young distraught man stands behind them. I could imagine what they were feeling and it was horrible. Grief was not pretty and those feelings were even uglier, leaving a permanent mark on your heart. 

Someone tugs on my sweatshirt sleeve, I follow the motion watching Dean walk away following his brother who had stormed away. I follow them, making the quick walk to the Impala. 

“Sam we got here as fast as we could,” Dean reasons. 

“Not fast enough,” Sam shakes his head, a pained look painted on his face, “It doesn’t make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn’t a chance I could stop them from happening.”

I bit my lips, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Maybe it wasn’t about him exactly, like maybe it’s bigger than that. Sometimes that happens, remember what I said about oneiromancy or using dreams to predict the future? Well sometimes it’s not so literal, sometimes it serves as a warning or pointing you in a specific direction for whatever reason. Now I know your whole thing is different and more detailed than that but do you get what I mean?”

He nods, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know though, I’m no expert but I’m just tryna say to keep it in mind,” I add. He shakes his head and sighs, “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” Dean suggests, “Maybe there’s nothing supernatural going on at all.”

“Then why would he have such a vivid dream of just some random dude dying?” I point out, immediately realizing my contradiction. “I dunno,” Dean shrugs, “Maybe it’s like you said, it’s pointing to somethin’ else.”

“I watched it happen. He was murdered by something. I watched it trap him in the garage,” Sam explains.

“What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?” Dean asks in rapid succession. Sam huffs, “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams, I don’t know what the hell is happening!” He was freaking out, totally and utterly freaking out and he had every right to be. “It’s alright Sam,” I say softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. ‘No matter how long it takes.”

He sighs, mumbling a “Thanks.” I couldn't imagine what he was feeling, I always knew who I was even if nobody else did. To know one thing your whole life just to be thrown onto a totally new path with no explanation must be terrifying. “What,” Sam says suddenly throwing a look at his brother who was just staring at him. Dean shrugs, “Nothing. I’m just, I’m worried about you man,” he confesses.

“Well don’t look at me like that!” Sam yells. Dean looks away, “I’m not looking at you like anything,” he retorts, glancing back, “Though I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Dean. Really?” I say.

“Nice. Thanks,” Sam replies, pursing his lips. With a small smile, Dean moves to the driver's side of the car, pulling the door open, “Come on, let’s just pick this up in the morning. We’ll check out the house, talk to the family.”

“Dean, you saw them, they’re devastated. They’re not going to want to talk to us,” Sam reasons. Dean pauses in thought, “Yeah, you’re right. But I think I know who they will talk to.”

I scoff, “Who?”

I pull open my motel door, the sun shining brightly behind the man in front of me highlighting his stunning green eyes. His arms are hidden behind his back, “What do you have there?” I ask, squinting at him suspiciously. “Oh, just a little somethin’” he smirks devilishly, gazing down at me. 

“You’re scaring me,” I admit, “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” he grins revealing what he was hiding. He holds up a rectangular Halloween costume bag, the classic orange logo on the top, and a blonde woman in a nun costume holding a ruler on the other side. I look between him and the bag his smile never leaving his face a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “Sam and I are going as Preiests so we need our nun,” he explains.

“Tell me you're joking,” I say blankly, my face falling.

“Not at all sweetheart.”

I huff a laugh, pointing at the bag, “I’m not wearing that.”

“You gotta,” he replies.

“No offense to the nuns of the world, but I would rather be shot dead than wear that.”

“‘Cause it’s not cute?” Dean asks though it comes off more like a statement as he knows my answer. “Yes,” I answer flatly, “I’m not wearing that.”

“Maybe I shoulda picked up the slutty one,” he retorts, thinking he got me there. I cross my arms across my chest, wetting my lips, “You should’ve, ‘be good for Halloween,” I counter. Checkmate. He drags his eyes across my frame. my face heats up, “While I’d love to see to that, Halloween is months away and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Still not wearing it,” I say as sternly as I can manage, which isn’t very considering my mind trying to compute what he said. “Come on,” he grumbles, “what am I gonn’ do with a nun costume now?” He pushes past me, stepping deeper into the room. I close the door, turning around, “I don't know, return it? Or use it for one of your one-night stands, I’m sure you’ll find someone kinky enough.”

He looks at me blankly, deadpanning, “You’re wearing it.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“I’ll just sit this one out, wait in the car or something ‘till you’re done,” I say.

“You’re wearing it,” he repeats.

“No”

“Yes”

“You’re not winning this one!” I throw my hands up.

“Y/N come on!”

“No!”

He groans, annoyed, “If you wear it I’ll buy you whatever book you want.”

Oh. I mean it’s only a couple of minutes of embarrassment and ugly clothing, “Okay, deal. Fine.” His wide grin returns, he throws the bag at me and I catch it, looking down at it with disgust. “‘Not gonna bite sweetheart,” Dean says as he heads out. 

“Yeah, but I might,” I mumble.

I fixed the Coif on my head for the hundredth time, I should’ve put more bobby pins in my hair. God. How did Nuns wear these? It just digs into your scalp and the most hair you could show was just the very top, probably about three inches, the rest of your hair was hidden along with your ears. It was the least cute or sexy thing to ever exist, faces were not being framed. 

“Quit poutin’, you're supposed to be a Nun, be happy,” Dean comments as he rounds the car.

“I look like I'm going to burn myself at the stake,” I huff.

Sam laughs, having to bite back the noise. “You look fine,” Dean says. I look down at myself, the long black dress covering everything down at my ankles and a strange-looking white squared bib thing around my neck, “Who are you lying to right now!” 

Dean huffs frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“At least you guys look good, like really good,” I say maybe a little too honestly. Sam had his hair all jelled back in a cute little hairdo, he was quite adorable. And on the other side, it really must have been the all-black attire, forget about the clerical cuff and that damn silver ring on his finger that made Dean look so good. Otherwise, there was something deeply wrong with me and I’d have to reevaluate my life, ‘cause there should be no reason for a “Priest” to look so damn fine. Lord, I need help. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Dean declares. He leads the way crossing the street and walking right up the porch, he rings the doorbell that silver ring glinting in the light. Sam sighs, “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Amen,” I mumble.

The door opens slowly and I throw away my pout replacing it with a kind smile. The older man from yesterday stands at the door, blocking our view of the rest of the house. Now that it wasn’t dark out and I was far closer, I was able to take note of him: a round-faced man with dark eyebrows and a sort of buzzcut.“Good afternoon,” Dean starts, “I’m Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Kathern We’re new junior priests over at St Augustine's. May we come in?”

The man nods, stepping aside. “Thanks,” Dean says entering first. I give the man a polite nod, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“It’s in difficult times like these when the Lord’s guidance is most needed,” Dean adds.

“Look, you wanna pitch your whole ‘Lord has a plan’ thing? Fine. Just don’t pitch it to me. My brother’s dead,” the man spits, his face wobbling with choked emotion. An older blonde woman appears, her soft hair only reaching her shoulders, her eyes etched in sadness, “Roger. Please!” she lectures. Roger moves away, escaping to some other part of the house, “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry about my brother-in-law. He’s…he’s just so upset about Jim’s death,” she explains.

“You don’t have to apologize, we completely understand. Everyone grieves differently,” I say sincerely. Her eyes soften, a sad smile on her face, “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Dean answers.

****

I sit next to Sam on the loveseat, Dean beside him in an armchair. Ms. Miller pours coffee gently into a couple of little white mugs, she hands one to each of us, “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all God’s children,” Dean replies smoothly, taking a sip of the black coffee. She stands up taking the coffee pot with her. Dean takes that opportunity to shove a bunch of cocktail sausages into his mouth, he was really taking advantage of her leaving food out on a little platter. “What?” he asks with a mouthful of food, responding to his brothers staring. “Just…tone it down a little bit, Father,” he responds.

Ms. Miller returns then, emptyhanded, she sits back down. Dean swallows his mouth full of food before talking again, “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that,” she answers her eyes already tearing up, “We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy,” the tears run rapidly down her face, “I just don’t understand…how Jim could do something like this.”

“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam replies sincerely. She wipes her tear-stained face, gesturing behind her, “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?” Sam asks. 

“Oh thank you, Father,” she musters a sad smile. He rises, following the direction she pointed. 

“Ms.Miller you have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?” Dean inquires.

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answers. 

“The only problem with these old homes, ‘bet it gives you all kinds of headaches,” he comments. Her face washes over in confusion, “Like what?”

“Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night,” he lists, “That kind of thing.”

She shakes her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s been perfect.”

“Huh,” Dean hums, “May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it’s just up the stairs,” she says. He nods, rising and taking another cocktail sausage before leaving. Now I was left to fend for myself in a social situation I wasn't totally prepared for. What do I say? “Is there anything I could do for you that might make you feel better? I understand how hard it is now.”

She tears up again, “I don’t know.” I lean over placing a gentle hand on her arm, “It’s okay…it’s okay," I say softly.

I enter the boy's motel room, following Sam. We had just come back from researching about the Miller’s house. I close and lock the door behind me, so grateful that I had been out of that nun outfit for more than an hour. “What do you have?” Dean asks, his entire arsenal spread out around him as he sits on the edge of the bed cleaning a gun. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he works the weapons, I have to force my gaze away. Men should not be allowed to look good doing random tasks, it wasn’t fair.

“A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built,” Sam answers sinking onto his bed. 

“What about the land?” Dean questions further.

“Nope,” I say, “There were no battles or graveyards, it’s not tribal land and no kind of atrocities happened on or near the property.”

“Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfer scent. Nada,” Dean adds.

“And the family said everything was normal?” Sam checks.

“Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the inferred thermal scanner man, and there was nothing,” Dean answers.

I sigh moving to sit at the end of Sam's bed, “Back to square one.”

“So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?” Sam questions.

“I dunno,” Dean answers truthfully, “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing supernatural about that house.”

Sam gets a pained look in his eyes, bringing his hand up to rub his temples, “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house,” he inhales sharply holding his head, “Maybe it’s just…Gosh,” he clutches his head, “... Maybe its connected to Jim in some other way?”

“Sammy you okay?” I ask, placing a careful hand on his bicep just as Dean says, “What’s wrong with you?” I throw him a sharp glare, way to word it. Sam makes strained pained noises, sinking to the floor, “My head.”

Dean practically jumps from his bed, “Sam? Hey,” he sinks right next to his brother in a crouch grabbing Sam’s arms, “Hey! What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I stand up concern running through my blood, “Sam! Come on!” I've never seen something like this before, it was completely foreign which only made it more terrifying. Dean throws a pleading look at me and I stand not knowing what to do, “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He turns back to his brother, not saying anything as he holds on to him. 

Then, Sam slowly removes his hands from his head, focusing back on reality as he warns, “It’s happening again. Something’s gunna kill Roger Miller.”

My leg bounces in the back seat. once more we were running against an invisible and unknown clock, running to save someone with little to no information given. And once more Sams is on the phone trying to get information quickly that will help us, “Roger Miller. Uh no no, just the address, please. Ok, thanks.” He goes quiet with the information before hanging up and reciting it, “450 West Grove, Apartment 1120.”

“You ok?” Dean asks, eyeing his brother in quick succession.

“Yeah,” he answers in the least convincing tone possible.

“If you’re gunna hurl I’ll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery…” Dean says, not really joking.

“I’m fine,” Sam answers still not convincingly enough.

“Alright,” Dean shrugs, dropping it.

“Just drive,” he says, looking away. He sighs, “Look, I’m scared, alright? These nightmares weren’t bad enough, now I’m seeing things when I’m awake? And it’s painful.” 

“Come on man, you’ll be all right. It’ll be fine,” Dean comforts in his own way. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully, “Whatever these abilities are, they’re advancing which is why it’s breaching into day. And because it's leaning more toward psychic abilities it takes a great amount of will, and concentration, and puts a horrible strain on your mind which is why it's painful. But the more you work on it the better it’ll be.”

He turns around in the passenger seat, facing me, “You have telekinesis, right?” I nod, his eyebrows scrunch together, “It hurt when you were first started?”

“God, yes,” I laugh bittersweet, “It just requires so much focus, more so at first, that I had headaches constantly. I tried not to use too much Advil, but they were definitely making a profit off of me, that’s for sure.” He seems to consider the information, turning back in his seat, “Then what is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?!”

“I don’t know Sam but we’ll figure it out,” Dean answers, “We’ve faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing.”

Sam shakes his head, “No. It’s never been us. It’s never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can’t tell me this doesn’t freak you out, Dean.”

Dean looks straight out the windshield silently, he couldn’t lie because Sam and I both witnessed him freak out before over it. Of course, then we’d all been younger, and he lashed out at me and when he left he hadn’t talked to me or apologized for months, I think it was about five. These sorts of things do freak him out, and sometimes I think the things I’m capable of doing still scare him sometimes, and that's just with someone he's friends with. With his brother, that fear must be a million times worse. “This doesn’t freak me out,” he finally says, lying. 

****

The Impala pulls up across the street from Roger, who approaches his apartment's entrance with a bag of groceries in his hands. Sam rolls down the window swiftly yelling for the man, “Hey Roger.” The man turns around, the annoyance on his face clear as day, “What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone.”

I lean over rolling down the window opposite of where I sit, “Sir this has nothing to do with religion! Trust me.”

“Please,” Sam adds. But Roger is already gone, walking closer to his building. Suddenly the car jerks into motion the engine gunning as it makes a quick turn around, and with a bump Dean jumps the curve hurriedly parking as Sam jumps out running after the man, “Hey. Roger. We’re trying to help! Please! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.”

I get out of the vehicle, round the black car, and head to Sam’s side, Dean following. As Sam reaches the entrance, Roger closes the door behind him, “I don’t want your help.” He walks deeper into the building and in a last-ditch effort Sam yells, “We’re not priests or nuns, you gotta listen to us!”

“Roger, you’re in danger!” Dean yells after him. But of course he doesn't hear them or if he does he just ignores the warnings. God people are so stubborn. “Come on,” Dean suddenly says looking towards a back entrance, he leads the way as we run around the corner of the building to the back entrance, a door in the way. With a quick look around Dean steps back and kicks it open, the door bursts open with a crack. 

Sam jumps for the bottom ladder of the fire escape, using his tall frame to easily reach it, he pulls himself up and starts running for the stairs. Dean turns to me offering me a cupped hand, “You comin’?” he asks. I shake my head, pushing strands of hair behind my ear, “No you go, there isn't enough room for the three of us on that thing, you go. I’ll keep watch. He needs you.”

He looks me over, before nodding and jumping for the ladder, catching up to his brother swiftly. Against my better judgment instead of keeping watch, I look up at them, a hand blocking the sun as they make it up to the second floor. Then all of a sudden there's a heavy squeak and slide of a window followed by a wet squelching noise. Sam freezes, Dean sprints past him and stops looking down at something I can’t see from down here but even so, I know it is Roger’s severed head. 

****

“I’m telling you there was nothing there. No signs either, just like the Miller’s house,” Dean informs, once more the three of us in the car this time driving back to the motel. Sam squints his eyes, slightly, in focus, “I saw something, in the vision, Like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it’s not connected to their house?” Dean asks, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. 

“You know that argument doesn't really hold up anymore considering Roger died in his apartment,” I answer fidgeting with my fingers, “So it could be the family itself.”

“So you think, like a vengeful spirit?” Sam questions.

“Well yeah,” Dean responds, “There’s a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years.”

“Angiak. Banshees,” Sam lists out examples.

“Wouldn’t you have still picked up on something when you were snooping around?” I ask this time, looking up from my hands. “No, I was thinking somethin’ more like a curse,” Dean explains, “Maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse-worthy.”

Sam hums, adding to the working theory, “And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying…Hey, you think Max is danger?”

“Let’s figure it out before he is,” Dean remarks. Sam sighs, “Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Both our families are cursed,” Sam says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I frown, one because he feels that way and two because I dislike when people say that. Dean huffs, “Our family’s not cursed! We just…had our dark spots…”

“Our dark spots are…pretty dark,” Sam nods slowly. Dean eyes him, “You’re….dark.”

I scuff, “Well as dark as it was you don’t have to worry, curses aren’t real.”

Sam turns around in his seat, facing me, “You’re a witch and you don’t believe in curses?”

I tilt my head giving him a ‘really?’ look, “That’s not what I meant, of course those kinds of curses exist they are very real and palpable things,” I wet my lips, “What I meant is that this curse you suggest to be the reason why you suffered misfortune isn’t real and that goes for everybody. Bad things just happen. And I know you probably weren’t being too literal but still blaming bad things on curses doesn’t help you in the long run it just serves as an excuse for you not to face your problems and acknowledge the real issue.”

Sam looks at me with slightly wide eyes and when I look at Dean, his expression is more or less the same if not even more, “What?” I ask eyeing the two of them. Sam turns back around in his seat a small smirk on his face, Dean gives a little shrug, “Nothin’, just someone’s using their psychology degree.”

I snort, suddenly getting shy, “Shut up,” I mumble. The thing was I wasn’t using my psychology degree this was just me, not that I was embarrassed by my degree. I took education very seriously, especially college. So of course I wound up double majoring, one in criminal justice and the other in psychology, but could you blame a girl? Either way, I didn't like when people said things like that, blaming something on a force they didn’t understand and had no real play in any of it.

I pull down the sleeves of the black Nun dress, readjusting the material, “I hope you know this is another book,” I say closing the car door behind me. Dean seems to round the Impala quicker at that, “What?! No, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

I purse my lips, “Yes, but when we made that deal it was under the presumption that it would only happen once in this case. And yet, here we are again.”

Dean opens his mouth to say something more but his brother cuts him off, “Wait, you guys made a deal?”

I smile triumphantly, “Yup!”

Sam frowns a little pout to his lips, his puppy-dog eyes turned down, “Man,” he whines, “I should’ve made a deal.”

“You should’ve,” I respond, thinking for a moment, “You know what? I will extend my second book to you, you are now included!”

He shakes his head, “No Y/N it's okay, have your books.”

Now I shake my head, “No no I want to, nothing would bring me more joy than the three of us going to a bookstore, and while Dean impatiently waits for us and grumbles to himself we get to wreak havoc and choose books!” Sam smiles with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “That does sound like a good idea.”

“You’re an evil woman,” Dean grumbles.

I smile sweetly at him, “I prefer ‘wicked’ but I guess that’s close enough.”

He eyes me for a beat, tongue against cheek as if he is contemplating saying something but ultimately he looks away, “We’re meant to be checking in on Max.”

Oh, “Yeah,” I say leading the way. “See, this always happens,” he states, reaching my side in one stride.

“What happens?” Sam asks.

“Whenever you two are together we get nothing done,” he elaborates. I fake a hurt gasp, “That’s so not true!” I mean we could be annoying, sure, but that was our whole job especially since we’re younger siblings it’s just how it works. 

We reach the door and he knocks before anyone can say anything more on the topic. Instead of Ms. Miller answering the door her son, Max, does. He opens the door wider, “My Mom’s resting, she’s pretty wrecked.”

“Of course,” Dean nods, stepping deeper into the house.

“All these people kept coming with like, casseroles?” Max says, making small talk, “I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know 'cause nothing says I’m sorry like a tuna casserole.” I bite back my laugh, very poorly, he caught it giving a smile back to me and Sam who was also grinning at the joke. Max gestures to the seating area his mom put us just earlier today, and just like then we all take the same seats, but this time it's Max in front of us. 

A beat of silence goes on before Sam sighs, speaking softly he asks, “How ‘you holding up?”

His face drops a little, answering with a small, “Ok.”

“You’re Dad and your uncle were close,” Sam follows up, stating instead of asking.

He shrugs, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.”

“But not much lately?” Sam asks.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” he shifts in his seat, “We used to be neighbors when I was a kid before we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.” 

“Right. So how was it in that house when you were a kid?” Sam questions further. 

“It was fine. Why?” Max answers, dismissively. He was uncomfortable, something about that old house made him uneasy. 

“All good memories? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?” Dean asks this time, skepticism written in his voice. Max shakes his head, slight panic crawling in his irises, “What do yo…..why do you ask?”

I recognized that panic. Knew it well. I remember wearing it, how it crawled over my skin. “Don’t worry it’s just a question,” I nod, noting his behavior.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy,” he replies suddenly more sure of his answer.

“Good. That’s good,” Dean answers, “Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off.”

Catching on Sam nods, “Right,” he looks back at Max, “thanks.”

Max eyes us, something between panic and questioning, “Yeah.”

****

We make it to the Imapla before debriefing, the panic in his eyes burning into my retinas. 

“No one’s family is totally normal and happy,” Dean starts, pointing out the faults of Max’s response, “See when he was talking about his old house?”

“He sounded scared,” Sam answers sadly.

A chill runs up my spine, “More than that, he was petrified. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the house…”

“Yeah, Max isn’t telling us everything,” Dean agrees, “I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers.”

I shift my footing, fixing my pants (which I was glad to be in again) as I watch the older man named Rob in front of us. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, almost 20 years now. It’s nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy,” he answers and I can’t tell if he wants us to be interested or wishes to keep out outsiders. Maybe the earlier, he seems kind.

“No, no,” Sam smiles, “Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” Dean adds.

“Yeah I remember,” he responds, “The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what’s this about, is that poor kid ok?” That makes me stumble over my thoughts, “He….um, I’m sorry why did you word it like that?”

Rob frowns, “Well in my life I’ve never seen a child treated like that. I mean I’d hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk.” My skin curls up, my fears confirmed. My heart recoils, cowering away from the information and the thoughts. “He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of,” Rob continued. 

I take a subconscious step backward. I don’t understand, if he knew why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he call the police?

“This was going on regularly?” Sam asks, his voice firm.

“Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the sepmother. She’d just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

I suddenly feel nauseous. He was finally free now but that was too many years too late.

“Now you said stepmother,” Dean says for confirmation. How could he not be reacting to this information?

“I think his real mother died. Some sorta…accident. Car accident I think,” Rob answers.

Suddenly Sam clutches his head again, grimacing. Rob looks at him strangely, “Are you okay there?”

He winces, “Uh, yeah.” Dean holds the crook of his brother's arm, leading him away as he throws back a “Thanks for your time.”

I blink out of what feels like a daze, mustering a smile for the man, “Have a nice day,” I say before catching up to the boys. But my feet feel heavy, as if cylinder blocks had been tied to my ankles. My intestines seem to twist itself into a knot, wrapped around like a bow. I clutch my shirt where my stomach is, my heart seems to beat faster an unnerving feeling settling itself into the vessels. I could hardly focus on my tense body and anxious thoughts when Sam’s head lulls back, his eyes doing that thing where you can tell he isn’t here with us right now. He’s somewhere else, having a vision.

****

I want to curl into myself and shy away from the current case. But we were in the Impala driving back to the Millers house and Sam still had to tell us about his vision. “Max is doing it. Everything I’ve been seeing,” Sam reveals. I should be surprised but I’m not, maybe it’s because of the newfound information.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks, almost skeptical. 

“Yeah, I saw him,” he confirms.

“How is he doing it?” I ask carefully. 

“I think telekinesis,” Sam answers. 

“What so he’s psychic?” Dean questions, definitely skeptical.

“I didn’t even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died,” Sam elaborates, “These visions, this whole time–I wasn’t connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess—because we’re so alike?”

“What are you talking about? The dude’s nothing like you,” Dean responds firmly.

“Well,” Sam tries to reason, “We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

“Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third,” Dean exclaims. This was all getting very complicated very fast. “He’s not a monster he’s a kid. It isn’t his fault, he’s a product of his messed up childhood,” I defend, my voice filled with perhaps a little too much emotion.

“With what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I’m sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane,” Sam adds, agreeing. I nod vigorously, it isn’t insane, not one bit.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family!” Dean yells, his voice louder than needed.

“No of course not. But clearly, no one else was caring about him. No one made any effort to help him, not even the police! So you must understand why he felt like he needed to take justice into his own hands,” I argue. This was complicated, this was human. And humans, human feelings get messy very quickly.

“You're suggesting he's a necessary evil?” Dean counters, his voice gruff and on edge.

“Maybe, yeah,” I answer, crossing my arms across my chest. The car jerked right, driving up to the curb in front of the Miller’s house. “He’s no different from anything else we’ve hunted, all right? We gotta end him,” Dean lectured.

“We’re not going to kill Max,” Sam and I say at the same time, our voices overlapping. “He’s a kid!” I add.

“Then what?” Dean counters, “Hand him over to the cops and say ‘Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind.’” 

I huff, “That’s not the point and you know it. We can talk him down, he isn’t a monster and I highly doubt he would kill just for fun. He’s angry and he’s hurt, he needs help. If we do that then we are just as bad as his uncle and his dad and the cops that refused to help.”

He shuts the engine off, pursing his lips and shaking his head, “All right fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else.” Yet, despite his words he leans over to the glove compartment and pulls out a pistol. He glares at Sam as he gets out of the car. I catch his eyes, “Dean.” He looks at me, challenging me, before ultimately getting out and tucking the gun into the back of his pants. I roll my eyes, tongue in cheek, pissed. I get out of the car, joining the boys but not before slamming the car door behind me.

We run up the porch, Sam in the lead. He knocks on the door, and when no response comes he leans over the railing peeking in the window. He looks back at us and he does not have to say anything for us to know what was happening. Max was going to kill his Stepmother.

Without thinking any further, Dean raises his leg to kick the door in. I stop him, “Dude way to be inconspicuous. Let me.” He backs up a few steps, hands raised in defeat. I grasp the cold knob of the door, not needing to put much effort into getting the door unlocked. We rush into the kitchen, where Sam said Max would do it. Ms. Miller presses her back closer against the counters, her eyes wide and filled with tears and fear as she watches her son in front of her. Her eyes snap to us, “Fathers? Sister?” Ironically enough, we weren’t dressed up instead in normal clothes which I wasn’t sure if priests and nuns ever did. Max spins around, poorly concealing the large knife behind his back, his hair is a mess and his eyes match his stepmothers in fear after all he was caught. “What are you doing here?” he asks, afraid.

“Uhh, sorry to interrupt,” Dean answers awkwardly. 

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam leads, fumbling for an excuse. He eyes us, he doesn’t trust us, “About what?”

“It’s….it’s private. I wouldn’t want to bother your mother with it,” Sam lies, “We won’t be long at all though, I promise” he says directing it to Ms.Miller. Max looks back at his stepmom and then at us, “Ok.”

“Great,” Sam smiles. 

We turn to leave, making it out of the kitchen and to the front door. Dean takes the lead with his hand grasping the doorknob, pulling it open he smiles back at Max awkwardly. Then all of a sudden the doorknob is pulled from his grasp and the door slams shut, followed by the dropping of all the blinds for each window. Impressive. I turn around swiftly watching Max as he backs up, “You’re not priests! Or a nun,” he yells. 

Dean draws his gun quickly, but without even moving a muscle Max uses his powers to pull the gun away, it slides across the floor and he crouches down to take it. He stands up tall, pointing the gun at us. Dean nudges me slightly behind him, I want to shove my way in front of him but he holds his arm out in front of me and I don’t feel the need to argue now of all times. Ms.Miller appears in the archway between where we are and the kitchen, “Max, what’s happening?”

“Shut up,” he bites.

“What are you doing?” she repeats, approaching carefully. Removing one hand from the gun he swings his arm towards her, using his power to send her flying back into the kitchen, she hits her head against the kitchen bench before sliding down to the floor. “I said shut up!” he yells at her unconscious figure. 

“Max calm down,” Sam says steadily, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“Who are you?” Max snaps.

“We just wanna talk,” Sam responds with instead. Max scuffs, “Yeah right, that’s right you bought this!” he motions with the weapon. Sam takes a careful step forward, “That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max, okay? Just please, just hear me out.”

He eyes us carefully, “About what?”

“I saw you do it,” Sam explains, carefully, “I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened.”

“What?” Max questions.

“I’m having visions Max, about you,” Sam elaborates.

“You’re crazy,” Maxx huffs.

“So what, you weren’t gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” He challenges, taping his eye, “Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here, all right? I think I’m here to help you.”

His hold on the gun tightens as fresh tears run down his face rapidly, “No one can help me.”

“That’s not true,” I say softly, “I know it feels that way now, and I’m sorry it does. But if anyone can help,” I look at Sam, “It’s him,” I look back at Max, “Please.”

Sam nods, wetting his lips, “Let me try. We’ll just talk, me and you. We’ll get Dean, Y/N, and Alice out of here.”

“Uh-huh. No way,” Dean intervenes. The chandelier above us rattles, “Nobody leaves this house!” Max yells. I want to cut in, I could contain him in a matter of seconds a minute at best. He was skilled, but I certainly knew more than he did. Yet I know I can’t do anything, he’s scared so rushing him with my abilities won’t help. Treating him like a monster won’t help. 

“And nobody has to, all right? They’ll just…they’ll just go upstairs,” Sam reasons, but the light fixture continues to rattle.

“Sam, I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Dean mutters.

“Yes, you are,” Sam answers firmly, “Look, Max. You’re in charge here, all right, we know that. No one's going to do anything that you don’t want to do but I’m talking five minutes here man.”

“Sam!” Dean intervenes again. I place a hand on his upper arm, gaining his attention fast and without words, not wanting to scare Max off, I give him a look and a nod silently telling him that his brother will be okay and that he can handle himself. His lip twitches as if he’s fitting off a scowl.

“Five minutes?” Max asks, the chandelier stops shaking, “Go” he nods to his stepmother.

I walk carefully behind Dean, waiting for him as he picks up Ms. Miller, I lead the way up the wooden stairs entering the master bedroom. Dean lays her down carefully, and I find the bathroom attached to the room. I quickly go through the drawers finding a small washcloth, carefully I wet it and ring it out before walking back into the bedroom to find Dean pacing the room, hand by his face. I approach him carefully, he stops his pacing when I step in front of him but worry is written clearly in his eyes, and in the way he hasn’t stopped biting his thumbs nailbed, a habit he exhibited only when he was worried about Sammy. 

I raise my free hand to him, pulling it away from his mouth, “He’ll be okay, he knows what he's doing.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything as he takes the washcloth from me before moving past me, he crouches in front of Ms.Miller, lightly pressing the cloth to the small wound on her forehead. He was distracting himself.

I frown. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in his brother, he was just worried. For as much as this was for Sam it was nearly too much for Dean too, he might not be going through it but he was watching someone else navigate the messy plains of powers and the pain that came with it…that was scary. Especially since Dean has always taken his job as an older brother very seriously, doing anything and everything for him no matter the cost, he was meant to be his protector but with these newfound abilities Dean didn’t know how to help, how to protect his little brother– and that scared him.

I cross my arms across my chest, trying to think of what to say when I hear movement heading towards us. I turn towards the door, it creaks open slowly, Max’s figure standing right at the doorway the gun clutched in his hand at his side. I give him a questioning look, but his face is determined and there’s no Sam.

There’s no Sam.

Panic settles in my veins and before I can react Dean is standing in front of me, pushing me further behind him before he takes purposeful steps towards Max. The door slams shut and suddenly Dean goes flying left, barreling into the wall. Oh, two can play that game.

“Max!” Ms.Miller yells from behind me, having woken up in the short time her son arrived. Max points the gun at me with shaky hands, “Move,” he commands. I bring my powers forward, flicking it on, “Do you want to try?” I warn bitterly. He laughs, shaking, “Do you think you’re like me too?”

I assume Sam must have said something about that to him downstairs, “No,” I answer softly. He raises his other hand at me, flicking it to the left trying to send me flying too but I don’t budge. He looks confused and tries again but once more I don’t move. “Max please just put the gun down, this isn’t the way, I promise you,” I reason.

“You don’t get it!” he yells, shaking. I smile at him sadly, holding up my hands in defeat, “Dad drinks and he gets mean,” I say, “You think he doesn’t mean it, he’s just grieving. But it happens one too many times and you get scared.”

His resolve weakens and tears run down his face, “Your Dad?” He isn’t sure whether he should believe me or if I'm just lying to talk him down. I take a quick look over at Dean, who still lies on the floor looking at me with eyes wide, I never told him and I don’t think he ever knew.

I look back at Max, “Yes. My brother took most of it for me, but I reminded him too much of my mother and she was gone while I lived and that was not fair,” I swallow roughly, “I didn’t think he was capable. My mom loved him and he was never like that when she was around, but they did always say she softened him so maybe that’s why.”

“What did you do?” he asks, lowering the gun just a little. I go quiet and he does not like that, he raises the gun again, “Did you kill him?!” he screams.

I shake my head, “No. He managed that all by himself, he grew very careless.”

His eyes scrunch together in confusion, “Did you want to?”

I shake my head again, “No, I didn’t want to be like him. Didn’t want to stoop to his level. My brother though…he, um, I think he wanted to. But he didn’t. When he died, I didn’t cry at his funeral, I wasn’t as sad as I knew I should’ve been, and that alone makes me feel so guilty…” I take a careful deep breath trying to blink away the tears, “Please put the gun down, I know you're angry, you have every right to be. And I know you’re scared but doing this. It won’t help.”

“How do you know!” he screams, his face red, but it comes out weak.

“He’s dead and I’m still scared sometimes,” I admit out loud for the first time, tears slipping down my cheeks as my powers revert to it’s resting stage, “I think I hear his voice or that I see him in a crowd, and I know it’s not really him. But my heart picks up and I think he’s there, and I know what that means and I get scared.”

He looks at me, really looks at me and it is like looking in a mirror, our pain reflecting in each other. He lets go of the gun, but it doesn’t hit the floor instead it floats in front of him, “I’m not you, I won’t sit back and take it. She has to die, they all had to.”

His words feel like a stab to my hurt but I ignore them, “No, Max, please. It won’t help.” I don’t look away from him but even so, I hear Dean standing up and I can feel him getting closer. He puts himself in front of me again, I try to get him behind me, a gun wouldn’t exactly kill me, but he looks down at me his green eyes hard. He moves me behind him, looking back at Max, “You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first.” 

“Fine,” he says. Just as the door busts open, Sam comes barreling in, “No don’t! Don’t! Please. Please,” Sam begs, “Max. Max. We can help you. All right.”

I move away from Dean despite the arm that he holds out to stop me from getting closer. Max is shaking, and sweaty, and tears run down his face rapidly. He looks at Sam with anguish, then his gaze turns to me eyes filled with a familiar pain. But his shoulders suddenly drop, and his face clears, “You’re right. It won’t stop.”

The floating gun points at himself. A loud bang rings in the room. Bits of blood splatter on my face. His body crumbles to the floor, a hole in his head.

I stare blankly at a spot on the floor, a small swirl in the wooden floors. Sirens whirl just outside, and cops stand all around us. His body was brought out in a bag. Yellow caution tape sections off parts of the house. Something light was placed in my hand, something to clean the…

Muffled voices sing near me.

He’s dead. I couldn’t convince him, if anything I made it worse. I should’ve said it gets better because it does and it’s not that common that I get scared, I can’t. Not with this job. But I didn’t want to lie and I made it worse.

I feel sick. 

I couldn’t help.

He didn’t want to be like me. He’s dead.

He didn’t want to be like me and I didn’t want to be my father and he’s dead. They are both dead and I live.

I live and Dad would say it’s not fair. He’s dead. 

A familiar hand nudges me forward, I walk automatically without hearing the voices. Something about…

He’s dead.

The car door opens and I sit inside, automatically putting the seat belt on. Someone says something and the door closes, voices say something outside, and then doors open and close. The car moves forward, the sirens get further away. Eyes look at me and I look at him.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

His body floats away as it burns like a Viking. He hugs me closer to him and we do not cry. We are free sometimes.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

He said it won't stop and there’s a bang.

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #the hunter and the witch update #slow burn #john winchester #dean winchester x witch reader #the hunter and the witch #angst #sad reader #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x reader series #dean winchester x you #banter #flirting #dean winchester flirting #dean winchester banter #sam and dean #dean winchester as a priest #dean winchester being sexy

[daisywords]

Just finished The Kingdoms by Natasha Pulley (thanks to @tracle0 for the rec!) and anyway I'm insane now

#book recs #literally indescribable. unlike any other book I've ever read #like it kept going in a different direction than I though it would #like okay we're doing this now. even better! #also love books where it's not a dramatic reveal but a slow realization #love me some memory loss trope as well mmm delicious #and so many individually good scenes. like the bomb scene for example #excellently crafted tension #an emotional roller coaster for sure I literally dreamed about this book last night #when I had to stop at like the 80 percent mark

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IV good omens but all i know is i watched three episodes on a stream with you all

Three hours being in a server with good omens fans in the wild *insert random emojis to sound like optimum clickbait youtuber except this ain't clickbait*

Okay I woke up. Before everything just WASHES out of my brain, I'm gonna describe whatever happened last night best as I can, because that's what I do.

Some of you were unable to attend the stream, and were sad. But don't worry I got you guys here's the rundown:

people joined the server. people were confused. i was afraid. i was assured that i should be, which was meant to comfort me.

people introduced themselves. someone said they had worked in a brothel as a bartender, which was cool, they said they had many stories. they did not elaborate for fear of scaring the newcomers. The newcomers, aka, me, were already scared, and it was not of the brothel stories.

I brought an emotional support orange with me. It looked uncomfortable. I thought it would be rotten. It was not, but we would not know that until later.

@thescholarlystrumpet entered fabulously, and started the stream.

i didn't realise the show had started for a good two minutes because there was a random voice over that was telling us about Earth's star sign (Libra) and somehow that didn't compute in my brain as being part of the episode. I thought we were checking audio.

It turned out, the episode had begun, and everyone was acting like this is a completely normal way for a show to start.

We time-jumped from the fall of man to modern day society so fast that I got whiplash.

There were a lot of orgasmic noises. I asked why. I was told in no uncertain terms that those were screams of labour. I'm sorry to everyone who has given birth ever.

There were three babies. I tried to keep track, it was hard. I thought the Antichrist won prizes for tropical fish. I was wrong.

I fell in love with Crowley and his hips and was very gay on the chat. This was heartily applauded.

I didn't realise an hour had passed when the episode ended, which it seemed was to be a common theme. I said nothing happened which everyone found funny for some reason.

I was very concerned about Armageddon. Everyone assured me that it would take place over the course of the season. I asked why we'd speedrun through millennia in five minutes but eight days took several episodes. I was a naive fool. Time is a social construct and this show cares not for social constructs.

They fucked up the mission. This was also to be a common theme.

I begged for a break and had to shake my head to try and get the brain rot out. I did not succeed.

The second episode commenced. The intro concerned me, because the cartoon Aziraphale looked pregnant or like a chicken. I asked if Crowley had impregnated him. He had not.

The pornography scene had to be replayed because I was so lost and had not relished it properly.

There was a lot of crying on the chat. Every few minutes someone would say a normal sentence in English and everyone would respond with crying emojis. Needless to say, I was concerned. This was also to be a common theme.

I asked why we were talking about random children. I was told it was The Them and they were the Antichrist's friends. I liked the hellhound.

I wanted to adopt the Antichrist, and grew more thirsty for Crowley every time he was a casual accessory to murder. I'm relying on this fandom not to use this as evidence with the cops. The chat was not reassuring, they said maybe.

I thirsted for Crowley more. This was also to be a common theme.

Aziraphale was very cute, I realised. That was nice. It was not nice when he had gay panic and said mean things to Crowley and they broke up. This was also to be a common theme.

I got so gay for Crowley that I ate the emotional support orange. It was gaseous. The chat was concerned, and everyone got excited every time oranges were mentioned after.

The third episode was a fucking roller coaster. Crowley and Aziraphale were your average high school couple but biblical for 6000 years.

Both were casual accessories to murder, and sometimes the cause of the murders, before going out for a date. Crowley got horny and he stopped listening every time Aziraphale ate. This was also to be a common theme.

The chat was keeping count of the husband breakups. This was not nice.

The Bentley was silver in many scenes, and people were forced to concede that they saw it. I was smug.

Crowley was sexy. She served gender, or as some people in the chat said, she served cunt. Her hairstyles got better and better. No one liked the 60s one. I did. I like everything she does. I love him.

Things happened. The fandom infected me. Someone mentioned how the book said Crowley felt lonely. I was near tears.

Crowley walked down the aisle for Aziraphale. We all were happy.

The book case, the thermos, the bandstand. I was broken.

Everyone said very emotional goodbyes.

I made a post on tumblr that was absolutely incomprehensible but accurately conveyed my love for Crowley. I fell asleep.

Same time next week, I believe.

I hope this was an adequate summary of the livestream for everyone, I am broken irreparably and if anyone mentions the bandstand I will have to start drinking and not stop till I get a happy ending. I cannot afford alcohol. I will ferment grapes myself if I have to.

#good omens #good omens mascot #good omens summary #good omens livestream #go livestream summarised #episode 3 good omens #good omens 1 #crowley #crowley serving gender #aziraphale #aziracrow #azirowley #aziraley #the j was just a j #weirdly-specific-but-ok #yall adopted me and broke me thanks #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens fandom #you all need therapy #i need therapy now #gay #queer #lgbtqia #queer tv shows #is this my life now #the good omens mascot #whom you have traumatised #is here to serve

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Slave!Omega!Dragoness!Reader-

cw/tags: mentions of slavery and past sexual abuse on fem!reader, A/B/O dynamics, mating bites, fingering, scenting, pet names, zhongli has a knot and alpha fangs and is not afraid to use them lmao, some nip and clit stimulation ig?? emotional roller coaster ngl.

notes: So remember a loooong time ago when I held a poll and one of the options was "dragon" and it WON?? well actually it was this, (dragon READER heh) it just got WAY out of control. 5.6k words and now I wanna make it into a whole series //head in hands// anyway ye have this weird lil funky AU I poured my sweat blood and tears into (also my heart and soul) idk why I am just so attached I love it so much plsss I have ideas fot other scenes with them already aaaaaaaaa <3

Partially inspired by some of @silentmoths' fics holy shIT I LOVE DRAGON READER AND I LOVE OMEGAVERSE NOD IF YOU AGREE!!

Last but not least if y'all wanna be part of my pinglist uhh I'm making one now so :3c

Part 2 ->

Strange yellow leaves fall around you all over the courtyard…

“Fix your clothes, you have to look appealing… well, as appealing as a creature like you can be.” The voice of your Master calls out harshly, pulling and tugging at details in your outfit. It was a flimsy and silky thing, mostly see-through, rather elegant, but very revealing.

You’re used to it.

“And stop looking so miserable! You better smile and please this Alpha. He’s not just anyone, you know?”

You nod meekly, trying to hide the slight trembling on your body. This will be just another bonding attempt. Nothing else.

It will fail. Just like all the others before.

Silver chains clink and tug the collar at your neck, it shakes you back to the present as you stumble forward.

Master guides you through a maze of corridors, with sleek surfaces of dark wood, decorative lanterns and paper screens. They’re strange, covered in even stranger symbols that look nothing like the ones back in the desert. Your bare feet, used to rough hot sand, now walk along polished wood with your draconic tail dragging behind. Everything looks so lavish…

You’ve been brought all the way to Li- Liu-… Li-yue? A foreign country, to meet a potential client. Well, a client to your Master. You are just the merchandise: a dragonblood Omega. Rare, unique even, “exotic”.

But defective.

Your fists clench in nervousness. How rough will this Alpha be with you? You dread to find the answer. Alphas were cruel, ever since you remember you’ve been taught to please, be gentle, obedient and look pretty, but they were never any of those things. Alphas just took their pleasure and used your body as they wanted, usually until you were crying and screaming, begging for mercy. You just hope this Alpha would give you some pity and be quick… or give you time to rest in between attempts.

Though you had learned since long that your wishes don’t tend to come true.

What a disappointment. After I spent so much money and resources on you.

Such a waste of time, what use is there in an Omega that can’t bond?

Why do I even bother with you? You’re just good for the reproduction camp. Maybe that way you can produce another dragonblood.

This is your last chance, mutt. If you fail again, I won’t be bothering with you anymore.

You feel anxiety creeping on your chest, heart jumping to your throat as the dark thoughts invade your mind. Last chance… your last chance at bonding. At proving you’re not useless and stupid. At serving your purpose as Omega. What was happening to you was fair. You deserve to be punished and you should be grateful you have one last chance after all your failures.

You just want to… to…

Tears prickle at your eyes and you breathe in deeply, trying to contain your distress and hugging your own tail, rubbing your face on the fluffy tip.

Whatever happens today, your fate is going to be sealed.

The nest room is nice.

Like the rest of the place, it is rather elegant, dimly lit with neutral colors and wooden walls, filled with pillows and blankets that had a very subtle flowery aroma to them. Small cabinets to one side with some decorative objects on top and a full-length mirror on the other side. So much different from the barren cold stone walls and tents from the desert camps.

“Hm, pretty fancy.” Master says taking off your collar, your soft unblemished neck now on display, free from any claim. “Now…” He pulls at your hair and you wince, whining and lowering your ears on a submissive display. He wouldn’t hurt you right? You have to look pretty. “The emperor will be here shortly. Make sure to do anything and everything he wants. And you better smile, I told you.”

“E-Emperor?” You pale, eyes widening.

He scoffs and pushes you back, you stumble back into the mess of pillows. “That’s right. I don’t know why but he was very adamant to see you it seems. Perhaps he just wants the prestige of owning the last known dragonblood, hm? Another novelty for his collection, I’m sure. You should consider yourself really lucky. So…” He flashes his Alpha fangs at you with a growl and you whimper again, cowering. “I would suggest you do your best and don’t disappoint this time, he’ll pay a pretty penny for you.”

And with that he leaves, muttering something and almost slamming the strange sliding door.

And so, you’re alone.

Immediately your brain goes into overdrive. An emperor? You had been presented to various Alphas of high status before, wealthy merchants and high-ranking tribe members, but this… this was probably a whole other level.

An emperor had to have an empress, right? Someone of noble birth and high status such as himself, not a lowly sand lizard like you, with weird ears, scales, horns and a tail. Why would he want to see an Omega like you? Perhaps Master was right, he intended to keep you as a trophy in his collection, another pretty thing.

It was humiliating.

But anything was better than being doomed to the reproduction camp…

Maybe the emperor had a harem? You’ve heard of them before, some Alphas liked to boast having many Omegas bound to them. Living in this luxury, not having to worry about much anything except looking pretty and pleasing him once a while. Hell, maybe he wouldn’t even pay attention to you, you’d be just a glorified pet.

You could… do that.

Without noticing, your tail starts swaying after you, this could be a chance. Your chance. You just had to make him like you. Forget the bond. Don’t think about it. All you have to do is please him.

You start frantically arranging the sheets and pillows around, building the comfiest nest you ever had with all the extra material, scenting it with excited happy pheromones. You could do it, this was your chance.

You won’t fail this time. You’ll be pretty, obedient, submissive, the ideal Omega. You’ll let him use you to his heart’s content, sure you may be a little sore but it’ll be worth it if he chooses you. He won’t even care about the bond.

…Right?

You jolt when you hear the door slide slightly open again, your heart leaps to your throat as someone walks in.

Oh.

Is… he the emperor? … He’s handsome.

To be fully honest, you expected some fat pompous middle-aged man not this… perfect specimen of an Alpha.

Your tail sways a little with curiosity.

He looks only slightly older than you, tall, wearing elegant robes in brown and golden hues. His eyes are like a sunset: golden, warm, almost glowing. A red liner accentuating them. Long chocolate hair faded to amber at the tips. His scent was earthy and pleasant, subtle unlike most Alpha musk. Almost comforting and… familiar?

He seems to stare back at you with the same surprise, frozen for a moment, eyes slightly wide, he says something you can’t quite hear and it shakes you out of the spell. You suddenly feel a little self-conscious, curling your tail around you, ears down and resisting the urge to brush (hide) the scales at the corners of your eyes.

It occurs to you that you’ve been just staring like an idiot, you don’t know very well how to address him, nor know his foreign tongue. So, you simply lower your head in respect. “My Lord…”

You suddenly feel nervous. This is it.

You turn around, following the motions ingrained in your brain. Body splayed on the nest, arms tucked in, head down. Submissive, obedient. Your hands are shaking, you feel dizzy, heart thrumming in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

You lift your butt just slightly, tail curling elegantly over your back, out of the way to expose the flimsy fabric covering your privates, properly presenting to the Alpha. You focus on trying to control your pheromones, letting out just whiffs of a needy sensual scent, worried of mixing in your anxiety and fear and displeasing the emperor.

You had to be pretty, enticing, compliant, and he would, h-he would…

A rather awkward cough has you tense. “There is… no need for that.”

You blink for a moment, taken aback at the rich deep baritone of his voice, so hypnotizing you almost don’t register his words. He speaks common tongue, but still, what does he mean? Isn’t this just… standard protocol for bonding? Isn’t he going to mount you?

You dare peek over your shoulder and see him sitting elegantly over his knees at the floor. He’s outside of the nest range.

He’s also slightly pink at the cheeks and pointedly avoiding looking at you.

Is this a trap? Is he testing you to see if you’ll misbehave? Your hands clench, nails digging at your palms, your breathing and heart increasing pace.

“I just want to talk, I promise.” He tries.

You hold the position.

He sighs, and then-

“Omega, relax.”

You almost squeak at the Alpha command. His voice, his will, seeps into your skin, your nerves, your very bones. You feel your muscles loosen up, tension leaving your body like a bowstring snapping and you lie on the sheets sideways.

Right right right, you’re tense, you have to be soft and pliant-

You look over at him and he’s… heading over to the little cabinets. He picks up a kettle of some kind and little cups that sit on the top, moving around calmly and elegantly as he seems to prepare something. Your head tilts and you gingerly sit up straight. Tail and ears down, curled up not unlike a wounded animal.

“Do you speak the common tongue?”

“Y-Yes!” You nod. “A little…”

“Good.”

The emperor seems… pleasant, he is calm and unguarded, so different from the cold intimidating Alphas you’ve met who like to show off, who immediately order you around. He even used an Alpha command on you but it felt… grounding. There is something equally eerie and entrancing about him and you feel yourself as much drawn to him as terrified of his imposing aura, and you couldn’t explain why. It’s a bit unsettling but also comforting at the same time.

He pours two cups and turns to you. You stiffen and he offers you one.

“Qixing tea is one of the most refined Liyue teas. It tends to be very bitter but this blend has a more pleasant taste, a little floral even. It is also said to help relax one’s mind.”

You carefully take the cup, not wanting to insult such gracious offer, though you’re utterly confused, shouldn’t you be the one serving him?

The cup is warm.

You stare at the golden liquid, small black dots sit at the bottom. This has no alcohol… right? It can’t be worse than snake wine at least.

You carefully take a sip, trying to imitate how the emperor is holding his.

It is… nice, a strong sharp taste but not bad, and very aromatic.

He’s looking at you expectantly and your tail and ears twitch. “I-It’s very good. Thank you, my Lord.”

He smiles and your heart skips a beat. “I am glad. Some say Qixing tea is for older people, but it’s frankly one of my favorites.” He stares at his cup with a somewhat nostalgic gaze, as if it brings him fond memories. “Ah, you can address me as Morax.”

You nod quietly and take another sip. Past the tea’s powerful flowery scent, you can now sense his Alpha pheromones, with him being so close and the air less tense. They’re strong but not overwhelmingly so, sharp and tantalizing, a refined foreign scent you can almost taste in the back of your throat. It stirs something in you, something warm and alluring.

“Do you know where were you born? Who are your parents?”

The question takes you by surprise for a moment as you shake out of your thoughts. Ah, he must be inquiring about your dragonblood. “I-I’m…. I’m not sure, my Lo- um… L-Lord Morax. As far as I know my mother worked at a-a heat house… no one knew who my father was and she passed away when I was very young.”

“I see… so you have no idea where you got your dragon traits from.” It was a sentence rather than a question and you shake your head meekly, taking another sip from the tea, ears lowering back.

“Apparently it could be due to recessive genes.” You once again repeat the same words you’ve heard all your life. You hate bringing attention to your dragon features, people either treat you like a rare exotic creature or a dangerous one. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Hmmm…” Lord Morax seems pensive for a moment, also drinking some of the tea. “Have you been with your caretaker for long?”

You look down. “Master has been in charge of me ever since I… p-presented as an Omega.”

“Does he treat you well?”

Your eyes widen, the question catching you completely by surprise. T-Treat you well? You are… treated like any other slave omega, if only being singled out by your draconic traits. He feeds you, he gives you clothing and education, he arranges the best matches he can for bonding, he even got you here in the first place. You owe him everything, you’re nothing without him.

So then… Why do you find yourself thinking back on all the harsh words, all the punishments, all the screaming and crying, all the… t-touches…

You gulp. “M-Master ensures I have the best living conditions and opportunities I can.” Is what you settle for.

He hums.

There is silence for a moment and lord Morax settles down his cup.

“I don’t think you’re aware of how special you are.”

Just when you thought he couldn’t surprise you anymore, he utters those words and makes your heart speed up.

Is this anxiety? Fear?

“Judging from what your Master has told me, you’re treated like quite the novelty, an exotic half-blood not unlike the Valuka Shuna or Kätzlein. Here in Liyue however those with traits like yours are called Xiānshòu.” The foreign word rolls off his tongue. His golden eyes fix on you and you freeze. “Also known as illuminated beasts. With immense power and longevity, even the half-bloods. They’re well respected and looked up to, why, some are even revered as deities...”

You? Such a fantastic creature? That can’t be…

“Seems to me like things are different in the deserts of Sumeru, however.” His eyes narrow and for the first time you notice his diamond pupils. They look like a snake’s. The same eerie glint he had a few minutes ago is back darkening the bright golden eyes. Yet, for some strange reason you don’t feel scared this time.

A shiver travels down your spine as you feel your instincts purr in delight. Protective… for some reason lord Morax is being protective of you. You don’t know why or how but you can feel it and it made your inner Omega preen inside. An Alpha wanted to protect you, care for you.

“Such a shame.” He adds, sounding almost disappointed but there is something darker underneath. Word simmering with… frustration? “You are such a lovely dragoness, worthy of every praise and prayer they’d sign in your name here.”

You’re very glad your cup rests at your lap, blushing furiously with trembling hands.

For the next few moments, he continued to ask some more questions. What you like or dislike, what you do in your free time, even something as innocuous as your favorite color. Time seemed to stretch into infinity as you grew a little more comfortable with your answers and the whole situation, as though you weren’t talking to an emperor, or even a potential master or Alpha but rather… someone who saw you for who you are.

You liked that. You liked him.

You wanted to stay with him.

You wished to-

“Alright, I think that’s enough. I will have a talk with your Master and we’ll settle things.” He stands up and dusts his attire a little.

Your breath stops.

He is leaving.

He is leaving.

Did you do something wrong? Didn’t he say he liked your appearance? Are you such a failed disgraceful omega? Your last chance at bonding. You didn’t even get to impress him. You want to call out to him, do something, anything. Panic rises in your chest, drowning you, freezing you. You can barely think, instincts screaming, begging, wailing in despair for him. This kind Alpha, this gentle, patient, imposing, majestic Alpha who’s too good for you and yet something deep inside you yearns for him…!

“I am very glad to have met you little xiānshòu.” A small smile tugs at his lips. Then, he turns and heads for the sliding doors.

So, you do the first thing that comes to your mind.

The empty cup falls from your hands, your footsteps thump loudly on the wooden floors, soft fabric clenches between your fingers.

As soft as the lips you crash yours onto.

…

It only lasts a few seconds but when you back just a little, ears low and tail curled up in apprehension, you realize what you did.

You’d kissed him, you’d kissed the emperor.

You’re shaking like a leaf, clinging to him for dear life. He stares at you with wide surprised eyes but you’d rather die right here for your insolence than live the rest of your days in regret.

His scent takes on an alluring hint to it and your inner Omega is overjoyed. Up so close it is almost irresistible. His face remains impassive, if a little tense, but you can see in his eyes something you identify very well… hunger, desire.

“Lord Morax… t-the nest… please.”

“Y-You don’t have to-”

“Please! Allow me to please you, allow me to show you…how…” You whisper against his lips, leaning in again as your eyes flutter close.

And suddenly his hands wrap around you and pull you close, cupping your face, curling at your waist, there’s something possessive in it and you feel slight vibrations as he growls deep from his chest against your mouth. But there is also something sweet, something delicate…

And for once, you want more. You want this.

How did you end up here? In the most beautiful nest you’d ever constructed, with the most handsome, kind, caring Alpha you’d ever met?

His kisses are deep and slow, completely unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. You lie on the soft sheets as he looms over you, exploring your mouth with an unhurried pace, hungry yet not forceful, letting you timidly do the same at your own pace.

This is nice…

His hands run along your body, caressing your skin through your flimsy attire. His touch curious but gentle.

“May I?” He asks, tugging at the fabric off your shoulder.

You shiver, at his voice, as the pure want in it, in his eyes, in his scent.

“Y-yes my lord…”

“Hmm…” His kisses trail down your jaw down to your neck as he starts pulling the garments off. Careful, instead of simply ripping them apart, your heart skips a beat. “If we’re going to do this, you can use my name and not just titles…”

Your top falls off and goosebumps litter your skin, nipples pebbled as one of his hands cups your breast.

“M-Morax…” You try, shakily, as if testing out the word alone on your lips.

“No, little one. Zhongli. That is my name.” He kisses down your shoulders, nipping at the skin.

“Ah!” Your tail flickers around and you purr.

You take the initiative to kiss him this time, and your hands start roaming his foreign clothes, fumbling with knots and pawing at the fabric. He chuckles at your frustrated whine. You want more, more of this feeling, more of him. To touch his skin, cover him in kisses, worship him.

(Show him what a good Omega you can be.)

No…

You want to make him feel good and please him.

Elegant fabric falls down discarded as he shakes off the layers of his top and you blink surprised. The fabric was bulky and covered up his figure. Lean but muscled, tantalizing like honey. You immediately latch onto him, nosing, scenting, nipping and kissing, feeling the faint outline of his abs and muscles twitch under your touch. He smells so good, he feels so good…

Your Omega instincts are starting to cloud your senses more and more.

Suddenly one of his hands gently squeezes a soft breast and you moan at the sudden touch “O-Oh!”

“You’re sensitive here, do you like this?” He asks, massaging your chest.

You whimper and nod frantically, tail wagging behind you. You had never been this responsive to having your chest played with, though then again, it was rare… but his sensual touches were quickly undoing you. Wetness pools at your gut and you rub your legs together.

Lord Mor- Zhongli… leans down then and something wet flicks over your nipple making you gasp, before warmth surrounds your nub. You cry out even louder. He sucks and laps at it and you instinctively tangle your hands on his hard dark hair, your legs wrapping around his waist.

You groan again, too many layers on the way.

“C-clothes… off, please!”

“As you wish, my dear dragoness.”

He continues squeezing, kissing, caressing and lapping at your skin, leaving a couple of hickeys along the way and teasing his Alpha fangs against you as his attention descends through your body once more, continuing his trail of kisses along your hip. His fingers dip down the waistband of your mesh pants and when you raise your hips to help, he pulls them down.

You’ve been naked in front of others more times than you’d like to count. But there’s something oddly intimate and special about this situation right now.

Your ears lower in apprehension, and your tail flicks by your side, resisting the urge to cover up. Lying down with your legs slightly spread around him. Already flushed, sweaty and panting.

“…You’re gorgeous.”

Huh?!

“I’m so lucky to have found you.” Zhongli nips at your hip. “So lucky that you want me too.” He kisses at your inner thigh.

Your breath hitches.

You’re the lucky one. Completely overjoyed that this Alpha likes you, desires you.

The first touch at your core has you mewling.

Zhongli strokes at your folds, still gentle, finding you soaked as your slick coats his fingers. Your body jolts and you moan “A-Ah!” He smirks against your thigh and nips there again as his fingers move in circles, teasing, testing, before moving to your clit. A finger pad stroking it just so, making your whole frame tremble, like every nerve in your body is being stimulated.

“Mngh- please!”

His fingers travel between your folds. First one sliding in rather easily, pumping steadily as you shudder in pleasure, and then two, making you writhe, bucking your hips against the touch, pushing them deeper, chasing that feeling.

Your body feels hot, too hot. Every sensation blocked except that warm wet feeling down there, in your new heaven. Your hands claw at the sheets, a pleasant fog setting in and you can feel yourself slipping into your most primal needs. But oh, oh, not like this.

You want him. Need him.

“You- y-you! please my lord!”

Something snaps in the Alpha’s eyes and Zhongli growls. Golden eyes dark, swallowed by lust and need and you whine when his fingers leave you. You vaguely hear rustling noises and before you can protest again, he pulls you up back on his lap and oh…

He’s big.

His erection stands proud between your bodies, rubbing against you and you shuffle impatiently, nuzzling against him.

Yes, yes…

Zhongli helps positioning you, gives himself a few strokes, and you feel his cockhead kiss at your entrance, you whine and stare at him rather confused. “L-Like this? B-But I have never- This is n-not how-”

He kisses your forehead, your nose, and pecks at your lips. “I can imagine this is very different from how they’ve taught you Alphas mount Omegas, but I my dear, intend to make love to you.” He whispers, hot breath fanning your cheeks as he nuzzles you, so close, so intimate. Your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Like this you will have more control. I want you to relax, enjoy, my sweet dragoness.” He kisses at your cheek, down your jaw to your neck. “May I?”

You can feel your eyes water. No one had ever told you that. No Alpha had ever been this patient or even asked your permission before. Words die on your throat as you stare mesmerized at Zhongli. Grateful. Incredulous. Completely enamored.

You nod, and he guides you down.

It’s different like this. So much different.

You bite your lip and whine a little once you start to move, his hands hold your hips as you raise them and sink back down on his cock, inch by delicious inch. You feel… full, but warm, good. Your insides clench around him and he groans.

Oh… you could get used to this…

“Hah… ah! … m-my lord... I’m…” You feel dizzy but in a good way, your body tingles all over and it’s exhilarating, addicting.

He leans forward a bit, nosing at your collarbone, soft kisses tickle your skin and he… he’s almost purring in delight, inhaling your scent. “I told you, you can just call me by my name... Would you let me hear it?”

You buck languidly on his embrace, enjoying this…sensual experience, these new feelings and sensations. His tender closeness, his intoxicating pheromones, his deep baritone.

Him.

“Zhongli…”

His name comes out as a needy cry and he growls, Alpha pride clearly satisfied. His hands roam your body just enough to shift position and pull you even closer, hips rolling in tandem, picking up speed, his fangs grazing your shoulder.

Your head is swimming in pleasure, fuzzy like stuffed with cotton, small little “Ah… ah… ah!” moans punched out of you. You’re vaguely aware of your nails digging onto his skin but you can’t even stop yourself, you need to hold onto something, anything.  

Even your tail subconsciously curls around his ankle (and he doesn’t even seem to mind), like every cell of your body is screaming at you to hold onto him and never let go.

Zhongli’s own breathing comes out in harsh puffs and satisfied groans as he buries himself in you over and over, the sound of skin slapping on skin becomes more prominent.

And then, he hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

Your eyes snap open (when had you closed them?) Back arching as if struck by lightning and letting out a high-pitched moan. H-How did he do that?! What was that? You don’t remember ever feeling like this in previous bonding attempts.

“M-more?” You mewl in delight.

Zhongli looks at you with a satisfied smirk and it only fuels the fire in your belly.

“Gladly.”

That same wonderful feeling travels up and down your body again and again as your moans and whimpers rise in volume, calling his name over and over. Zhongli kisses you, deep and passionate. Whispers praises and sweet nothings on your flickering dragon ears. Touches you so soft and reverently. Your body feels so hot, your mind going blank, you can feel the base of his cock swelling with his knot and the familiar coil of pleasure tightening as you anticipate it, crave it, more intense and satisfying than ever before.

And just as you reach that high, his fangs sink into you.

You come with a squeal, body tensing, clinging onto him, clenching on him as he lets out a deep satisfied groan, knotting you. Wet stickiness coats your insides and thighs. And everything feels right, just right. Perfect even.

It takes a moment to come back to your senses, and it’s to Zhongli’s hands rubbing circles at your back comfortingly, while he laps and kisses at the bonding mark he left on you.

And then the high comes crashing down.

The bonding mark.

Tears well up in your eyes and start rolling down your cheeks, your tail uncoiling from him and curling around yourself protectively, ears down.

Please no… this can’t be…

Please stay…

Please.

Zhongli immediately notices your distress, in your actions and your scent, completely different altogether. His own instincts going wild at the lack of a happy sated mate scent. “Darling, what’s wrong? I’m sorry did it hurt that much? Did I… harm you in some way or did something wrong?” Oh, he sounds so genuinely concerned.

You shake your head desperately. Of course he hasn’t.

But you will.

Your body will. Betray you as always.

No bonding mark has stayed in your neck for longer than a few minutes. They all fade.

Just like the alphas that place them in you.

And then comes the anger, the guilt, the disappointment, the despair, the loneliness…

You can’t take it. Not this time.

“S-stay… please…” You sob.

Your voice sounds so broken, so weak and tiny, absolutely heart wrenching.

And Zhongli embraces you.

“I will, my dearest dragoness. I promise you.” He kisses one of your horns.

You want to believe him but you can only cry harder…

The room is dark as your eyes flutter open. It takes a few minutes to adjust and for your mind to catch up. Where are you…? You look around at the wooden walls, nestled in comfy sheets, you see some wooden cabinets and a tea set-

…!!!

You jolt awake, tumbling some pillows from your fancy nest. Your last chance at bonding. The emperor. He was leaving, and then…!

You slap a hand against the junction between neck and shoulder and feel something there, a bandage… you try to stare at it confused, though it’s impossible from the angle. And then fear consumes you. What if… it’s not there…?

Your body is still naked, though you have been covered with a thick fabric while sleeping, as it now pools at your lap, your Omega scent and that of an Alpha mixed together pleasantly, you turn around.

The Emperor. Lord Morax. Zhongli.

He sleeps peacefully by your side, on your nest, after having mated you.

He stayed.

You stare at his handsome features, fair skin, dark long hair, strong jaw, muscled arms. His lips slightly parted as he breathes evenly. So at ease.

You want to reach out and brush at his hair, touch his face, kiss him.

You want this moment to last forever.

Looking up slightly you see the large mirror, see yourself. A tiny thing, with freaky ears, horns and a tail.

It was… good, while it lasted. Almost like a dream.

Tears start falling down your cheeks again and you try to be as silent as possible as you pull and lift at the bandage in your shoulder. And there underneath it is… something?

Your fingers trace a mark, a wound, it stings and you hiss.

No way. There is no way.

Hope flutters in your chest, your stomach flips and you feel dizzy, nervous. A bonding mark? Is it real? Is it still there?

You shuffle out of the nest as fast and stealthily as you can, standing in front of the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes wide, pale in fear.

And there it is. The clear mark of an Alpha bite, still rather tender. A claim. A bond.

You start sobbing as you trace it, touch it, feel it. It must have been hours, there is no way…

It’s there, it’s there, for real. You want to laugh, to cry, you’re still nervous, scared, hopeful, happy, a million things at once.

But how? Why now?

“Hnng… darling? Are you crying again?” You stiffen as you hear the voice, deep and hoarse, laced with drowsiness. You turn and see him sit up and yawn carelessly like a rishboland tiger. Elegant and intimidating like one too with his bright golden eyes, Alpha fangs and muscled figure. Still naked as well, you note.

“T-the bonding mark… it’s still there!” You exclaim to him, gesturing to it.

“You should let it heal nicely.”

“Y-You don’t get it!” You huff. “My Lord… it’s still there! I’m bonded, I’m yours!”

He chuckles. “Rather, I would say we belong to each other, now.”

Belong to each other.

That sounds nice.

You turn back to the mirror, still staring at it, poking it with a finger softly, as if afraid it’ll disappear, as if it was an illusion, a dream.

But it’s there.

“For years… for years I thought I was doing s-something wrong, that there was something… wrong… with me…” You cry softly. “No Alpha had even bonded me…”

Suddenly you feel strong arms curl around your frame, a chin resting at your shoulder where it kisses your skin, and then brushes over the mark. It stings but you welcome it.

It means it’s real, all of this is.

Zhongli inhales, taking in your scent. “Well you see my dear, a dragonblood… a xiānshòu like you, can only be truly bonded by one of its own kind.”

The words take a moment to process, to sit on your brain, and you frown confused, staring at him from the mirror. And then your eyes widen.

Golden antlers crown his head, majestic and almost glowing, small scales appear under his striking amber eyes, the color of burnt ocher. A large tail, even bigger than yours in golden and brown hues, sways lazily behind him, before finding yours and intertwining with it, the feel is foreign but not unwelcome. Like holding hands.

You turn around so fast you almost trip if it weren’t for his hold. The dragonblood features are still there, in plain sight.

Your throat feels dry.

“You… you’re…”

He raises a finger to his lips and shushes you, then smiles. “I am yours my dear. Just as you are now mine.”

You cling to him and hide your face on his chest as you cry. Overwhelmed, relieved.

Yes, this is where you belong.

#zhongli smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #crys writes #fem reader #PLS I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH???? #this took SOOOO LONG SORRY AAAAAAA #idek what to say here lma just enjoy hope ppl like it bc.... it's so long;;;;; #got a pretty header tho serious business :O #LohK #just in case (?)

[neptuneiris]

Behind the Scenes (03/05)

Behind the Negotiation

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: knowing that you can't run away from your past forever, you receive unexpected visitors in your home that make you fear for your son's future.

word counter: 8.9k

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warnings: angst, arguments, language,mention of abortion.

guys, I'm sorry for the delay, with this chapter a lot of unexpected things came across my way, but I've finally finished it and I'm satisfied with the result, although I'm not sure if you will like it, it might bore you but I don't know, please let me know :)

without more to say, enjoy it and thanks for all the support, really! let me know your comments too, I'll be waiting for them!

You still remember it all too well.

You remember how you accepted Aemond's terms, the terms of his agent Criston and also of his entire team.

You agreed to keep the existence of your child a secret, to hide in the shadows with him and to keep a low profile until it was "safe" for Aemond's career to publicly and legally acknowledge the baby.

But you only accepted to take that worry off everyone's mind and especially his, so you could run away. Although the reality is that you were scared.

At first, Aemond's power, influence and connections kept you paralyzed, thinking about the consequences of breaking all ties with him.

And running away from him, disappearing from his life along with your son was a decision you had to make carefully and then had to live with in fear and dread of being found someday.

And the fear of possible legal reprisals for your escape and uncertainty about the consequences were present at every turn. But you did everything to live in freedom, not to destroy Aemond's career and to protect your son from all public exposure.

You always knew that Aemond with his celebrity status possesses power, not only in the entertainment industry, but also in the media and social sphere, that was obvious, just like any other celebrity.

So finding you could be as easy as snapping his fingers.

So to prevent Aemond from tracking your movements so he could find you, you began by discarding any means of transportation that could be easily monitored or tracked.

You avoided airports and bus terminals, opting instead for small train stations and local buses, always paying with cash. You left King's Landing and the entire state, going all the way to the Iron Islands.

In Pike, with the money you had left over, you were able to rent a room to yourself in a cheap hotel, then quickly began to look around for a job in the surrounding area in search of an opportunity that could provide you with support and stability.

You knew you couldn't get a job like the one you had before, on a recording set with a big salary. So downtown, you found a job at a beauty salon.

Not only does she own a beauty salon, she also owns a few small apartments in the city and offered you one of them at a lower price, considering you were just starting out with a new job.

The owner of the place, Becca Waters, a kind and understanding woman, saw potential and also the need in you.

Knowing your condition and that you practically came to live in a place where you knew nothing and no one, she also offered you a place to live and be safe.

Mrs. Waters became a fundamental support for you, providing guidance, encouragement, flexibility and stability in your financial need and also in your pregnancy.

With her you felt completely safe and supported at a time when you needed it most. After all you had gone through to get here, leaving your life behind and pregnant, she was your reward.

But still nothing was easy after that.

Your pregnancy process was a roller coaster of emotions, challenges and moments. Facing motherhood as a single mom was an overwhelming reality.

On the one hand, even though the baby was unplanned, you were excited to know that you would soon be holding him in your arms, but on the other hand, you also felt fear and anxiety at the responsibility of raising a child alone with no knowledge of anything really.

The first few months of pregnancy were especially difficult.

You experienced pain, symptoms and discomforts that you had no idea about and had to endure, as well as a slight state of depression and anxiety about dealing with all of this on your own.

But through it all, Becca was your pillar of support at all times, who became your confidant, giving you comfort and encouragement in difficult times. And she was the one who helped you throughout your pregnancy and also the one who was by your side when you gave birth to your child.

And even though you didn't want to, being in a very vulnerable state, you couldn't help but feel lonely and miss Aemond, just as you missed everything you once used to be.

But remembering everything that happened the last time you saw him, even though the feeling disappeared, you also couldn't help but start crying.

And to protect yourself emotionally, you decided to stay away from news about Aemond.

You avoided social media and any content that could remind you of your past with him. Your determination was great to be able to raise your child alone, without relying on Aemond's presence or acknowledgement.

And the day your son finally came into the world, it was a moment of joy and wonder that could not be compared to any other moment in life, filling your heart with indescribable happiness.

However, the birth also brought with it a torrent of new worries and challenges.

Childbirth was exhausting and intense. Nothing you've ever experienced before. And in the days that followed, the constant care of the newborn, the lack of sleep and the adjustment to your new life were heavy challenges that pushed you to the limit many times.

But in spite of that, every smile, every little gesture of your son filled your world with immense love, as well as Mrs. James' help in guiding you in practical aspects of motherhood increased your unwavering determination to go forward for him, being your driving force.

Although also the arrival of your son into the world increased your fear in you.

The fear that Aemond and his team might find you and take your son away from you was a constant worry. But despite this, there were moments of uncertainty when you thought too much about it.

You wondered why Aemond would bother looking for you and your child. Clearly the baby was a risk to his career and he didn't even want to support you from the start, only accepting it later because that was your decision.

You knew he wouldn't but you were still afraid.

Would Aemond really seek you out after he initially supported the idea of abortion?

Would he really seek you out after he supported your decision even if he didn't want to but in the shadows, avoiding any public acknowledgement and hiding you and your son?

But just when you had gotten used to it, had found stability with a job and a permanent refuge in the beauty salon with Mrs. Waters, a few months after the birth of your son, Mrs. Waters was forced to close the salon due to unforeseen financial problems.

That place that had been your refuge and where you found support and friendship, suddenly disappeared, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, uncertainty and nostalgia.

Mrs. Waters would have to leave town and although you didn't want to, you also decided to do the same, convinced that you would be safer with your son in a place you knew well, avoiding at all times the places you used to go with Aemond and where you knew you could meet him.

So after looking for a job, with your resume and previous excellent references, in the city where the entire film industry resides, you got a job as a makeup artist in a different recording studio than the one you had worked in before.

There was no way you could meet Aemond, or so you thought.

Previously the TV network was BBC, now it was HBO for whom you would be working on a new TV show, so you really had nothing to worry about, especially since the pay was very good and you could survive just fine on that for you and your child.

But right on your first day of work, life decided to surprise you.

And now you are here, in your new apartment where you were planning to live temporarily until you find a better one, but now with you running away on your first day it means definite dismissal for sure, so you have no idea how you are going to pay for a better one or how you are going to pay for this one next month so you won't get kicked to the street.

But you can't even think straight as you are still shaking, your emotions are running high, you have no idea what really happened, it was all very fast between talking and remembering the past.

And the only thing that gives you some peace in the midst of your own thoughts and everything you're feeling, are the sounds of Aenar's toys and babbling in the living room, playing on the floor and touching everything he can.

His silver hair shines from the sunlight coming through the windows and he giggles as his colorful toys bump into each other, showing a world of happiness and innocent curiosity, completely filling your heart but you still feel that sharp ache in your chest.

You move towards him with a soft sigh and take a seat next to him, keeping a small genuine smile on your lips but with some melancholy, when he starts showing you all his toys and asks you between babbling and giggles to play with him.

You move the toys back and forth, ask him questions in honeyed tones and he laughs, making you laugh too, but you continue with the tumult of your overwhelming thoughts.

You think about what you will do now, that you should probably look for a job at a new beauty salon, which is what you should have done as soon as you got back, find a subtle job instead of going back to what you were doing before so suddenly.

However the paycheck was what made you take it and you need it too much, so you'll have to look for other alternatives.

You find yourself thinking about it when you suddenly hear the sound of the door completely interrupting your thoughts and also your game with Aenar.

You look towards the entrance, confused, with a strange feeling growing in your chest, immediately giving you a bad feeling. For who would come knocking at your door?

No one knows you're back… except Aemond.

Oh Gods.

The thought makes you paralyzed, feeling your whole body tense up, your heart starts beating fast and fear invades you completely.

Could it be him?

You wonder, struggling to stay calm, even though there's no way he could have figured out so quickly where you're living.

Or has he?

The thought leaves you completely paralyzed, with a mixture of anxiety and fear flowing inside you.

The knocking on the door becomes more insistent and you carefully get up and leave Aenar still amused in his game on the floor, then walk towards the door feeling a lump in your throat and a growing uneasiness.

You reach for the doorknob and as you turn it to open, your heart skips a beat when you find Aemond's agent standing in front of you, Criston Cole.

A trace of surprise and confusion flashes across your face, feeling your body tighten further and the fear linger.

How did he know where you were?

What is he doing here?

Criston returns you a serious but understanding look, beginning to feel the tension between the two of you, while you feel the fear invade you again because of the old memories and being him one of the main reasons why you decided to run away.

His mere presence triggers a series of emotions that take you by surprise. With no trace of Aemond or anyone else around you, yet your mind races.

Nervousness invades every fiber of your being, while your heart beats faster and stronger than usual. A sense of discomfort invades you and you also feel alert, afraid, unable to control it.

"Y/N."

He pronounces your name with a slight nod. His tone tries to be reassuring, but confusion and bewilderment wash over you.

You say nothing for a few seconds, feeling unable to speak and unable to formulate any words, barely trying at that moment to process the situation. Anxiety creeps through your chest, as he gives you and respects your space, aware of your unease.

"I understand that you're surprised by my visit and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I really don't. But we need to talk."

The confusion inside you increases and so does the fear, to watch him completely bewildered and on the verge of collapse.

"H-how—

You try to ask with your voice cracking in the midst of all your emotions, but he interrupts you in response, knowing what you're going to ask.

"My team," he lets you know, "They handled finding you."

He tells you seriously and with that touch of professionalism in his tone, but his response only surprises and puzzles you more, to which Criston notices.

You feel the questions pile up in your head, but you barely manage to articulate a word, besides all the emotions you're feeling, fear mainly.

"Aemond informed us of your return," he adds, "After he didn't find you again, he asked us to look for you," he tells you calmly, trying to make his eyes convey an attempt at empathy for you.

But you don't believe that one bit. Not after what happened the last time you saw him and his entire team.

You feel a surge of vulnerability wash over you, leaving you suddenly helpless before him. You don't have the slightest idea how you will be able to cope with that situation, how to get away from them again now that they have found you, especially him.

"What have you really come for?" you question, not hiding your distrust.

Criston keeps a serene attitude and look, seeking to soften the tension, but notices your demeanor and posture, of fear and alertness altogether.

"Just to talk," he tells you softly, "Believe me the last thing I want and Aemond too is to cause you trouble. We just want to talk and nothing more," he explains, but you are having none of it, "He was going to come himself, but he had to film some scenes. But he'll come as soon as he can."

This just adds more weight to the anxiety and nervousness you're already feeling, so it triggers an alert in you that makes you feel completely freaked out, definitely not wanting that.

"No," you try to retort with a firm tone, but your vulnerability shows in your trembling voice and nervous expression, "Please leave."

Concern flashes across Criston's face for an instant, unconsciously taking a step towards you.

"Y/N–

"Please," you plead, "Just go away and don't come back, none of you, not even him."

"Y/N, please, just let me—

"No," you interrupt him again, more desperate than before, "Please," you repeat.

The atmosphere is filled with a silence full of tension, where your words, full of desperation and longing to get away from the situation, float in the air, also asking for urgent distance and tranquility.

And Criston lets out a sigh.

"Just a few minutes," he says, struggling to find some control in the situation, "Just-let us talk to you, Aemond and me."

"If it's to talk about his career and his son, I'm not interested," you say firmly, but your trembling voice gives away your emotions, "We've talked about that before," you say with some bitterness and sadness in your tone, "You can go now. I don't plan on staying anyway."

Without having let go of the door frame, you try to close the door, ending all of this, but he instantly speaks again, stopping you.

"Please Y/N, Aemond is very worried and wishes to speak with you," he insists, "He hasn't been the same since you left, you should know that," he adds in a persuasive tone.

You let out a snort in disbelief and with some bitterness, as you look away from his gaze for a moment.

"I highly doubt that."

"Y/N—

The sound of Aenar's innocent laughter while playing with his toys catches Criston's attention, stopping his words, who unconsciously catches a glimpse inside your living room where Aenar is playing and also catches a glimpse of his small figure on the floor with his characteristic silver hair.

This immediately triggers your concern and increases your protective mode and you quickly close the door a little behind you, blocking his view, while your heart is pounding.

This is what you meant.

You don't want anything bad to happen to your son, in any way. And you will do anything to protect him, because they decided everything except to protect you and now you will not allow them to intervene in your son's life now that they know he is here.

"Y/N," he calls to you in a softer voice, watching you completely intently and desperately asking you with his gaze for a moment.

"Please don't," you plead with him, at the point of collapsing from worry and frustration.

Again you enter the apartment as you hold the door frame tightly to close it, but Criston stops you again.

"You must understand the gravity of what happened," he tells you seriously, "Your disappearance put Aemond's relationship with his son in danger. There are legal implications for you to consider, such as custody," he says and your heart flips, "I can explain all of this to you and resolve it in the best way possible," he looks at you in insistence, "But only if you let me in so we can talk."

And there they are again. Your greatest fears.

The word 'custody' repeats over and over in your mind, like a loop, causing you greater fear, worry and pressure than before, the gravity of the situation and the looming legal implications being clear.

The air weighs on you, heavy with uncertainty and intense tension, as well as you are overcome with the urge to cry because of your doubts and fear.

"Wh-what-" you try to speak in a whisper, your voice cracking and your heart in a fist, "Custody?" you repeat under your breath.

Criston watches you with some pity and understanding, then lowers his gaze, lets out a sigh and watches you with that sympathy and also a little expectant.

"May I come in?"

Try one more time and maybe it's because of his words that your mind is in a state of alarm that makes you recognize that you can't run away again or else things will get worse. And you don't want that. You are afraid for yourself and Aenar.

Feeling more of your anxiety, you finally allow him to enter and Criston at this thanks you with his gaze and moves carefully, noticing your visible discomfort and also your fear, not wanting to alter you any further with absolutely nothing.

And once the door closes, you immediately stand in front of Aenar with a weak and vulnerable posture trying to look strong, this catching his attention and feeling something warm in his chest at the presence of the little one.

But he also knows exactly why you react this way and he doesn't blame you for it, much less does it bother him because he understands you.

"I'm very honest when I tell you that we really don't want to create more trouble, Y/N," he tells you in a soft tone, "Aemond…. he really is very worried. And since he is my client, we don't want any legal implications or further conflict."

You try to keep your composure, but your thoughts are a storm of confused emotions. The very idea of dealing with legal issues, especially regarding your son, is overwhelming to you.

"Why now?" you ask in a trembling voice, your gaze searching for answers, "All this… why?"

Criston exhales slowly, trying to find the right words.

"The situation has changed, basically since you left. Aemond was wrong at the time and I admit I was too, so now he's willing to acknowledge your son, in every way possible."

You can't help but look incredulous and bitter once again.

"It's already too late for that, don't you think?" you ask him in a bitter tone.

Criston looks down for a moment, his expression one of compassion and understanding towards your perspective.

"Yes, we know," he nods to you, "And that's why we're here, trying to keep all this from becoming a bigger problem. But please Y/N, understand that Aemond doesn't want to hurt you or cause you any more trouble than he's already caused."

"And until now you say that?" you inquire sad, worried, fearful and indignant, "That's what I needed to hear before when I was scared, because I was scared too Criston, not just Aemond," you let him know, with tears in the corners of your eyes, "But you treated me like a problem you needed to get rid of, you and him."

Criston listens to your words with a gesture in his eyes that reflects the heaviness of the situation, just as you see shame and regret wash over him, suddenly seeing him as the vulnerable one and you as the strong one compared to years ago, the roles reversing for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. We didn't mean to make you feel that way," he says in a regret-laden tone.

"Sorry doesn't change anything," you say, fighting back tears.

You watch him with your hard stare and sad eyes, feeling several tears fall down your cheeks, making you remember once again.

And once again without letting it drown you, you force yourself to push those memories away, all your moments of uncertainty, fear and pain, to brush your tears away from your cheeks with a strong look of determination.

"I will accept any legal consequences if there are any," you say suddenly, trying to keep your composure, "If there are legal actions, I'm willing to face them. But for now, I just want to be left alone, please."

"Y/N," Criston calls you cautiously, "I just want you to understand that we want to do the right thing now. And what we want to do is find a solution that works for you and for Aemond regarding him," he points to Aenar with his gaze behind you, "Something that guarantees your privacy while not damaging his public image."

Then all the effect of his words completely disappear on you.

You feel a surge of frustration, annoyance and despair at the realization that still the main concern remains Aemond's career.

"Do you still think about his career?" you ask with disappointment and resentment in your tone.

"Y/N—

"The most important thing here is my son," you stand strong, "But he seems to be only one aspect of Aemond's image, doesn't he?"

"Even after all this time that has passed, Aemond's career is more successful and even promising than before, that is something that neither you, him nor I should forget, let alone ignore," he tries to explain to you, "Aemond wants to fix things but his career must also be contemplated, please understand this Y/N."

"Then why do you say you want to do things the right way now if that is not true?" you inquire.

"Yes it is true," he clarifies, "But within all of this, his career must still be contemplated."

You shake your head in disbelief, unable to believe it.

"You say a lot of things Criston, but it's clear what matters most to you," you say with no emotion in your voice, "And sure, why shouldn't his career matter most to you? After all… you don't know what it's like to get pregnant, without support and go through the whole process by yourself, and then raise a child on your own, without the support of his father."

"I don't mean to—

"Please go away," you plead once more and this again alerts him.

"Y/N—

He tries to speak but the sound of the door echoes throughout the living room, drawing your full attention and Criston's as well.

The atmosphere again becomes heavier than before, as well as all your confidence disappears, already knowing who it is and you are confirmed by the fact that the person behind the door knocks more insistently, sounding desperate.

With your fearful gaze and your whole body tense, you quickly move towards Aenar, who is still playing completely oblivious to everything that is happening on the floor and you take him in your arms with haste but also care.

You hold him tightly against your body, as a way to protect him from everything outside and also from all people especially while trying to contain all your emotions.

And Criston, who also knows who it is, rushes to the door to open it.

And there on the doorway, the figure of Aemond comes into view, with all the desperation and longing in his gaze, the worry and anguish too, as you muster the courage to be able to look him in the eye again, holding Aenar a little more firmly against your chest.

But your son's body is visible to the eye and that's what makes Aemond completely paralyzed at the sight of you with his son in your arms.

Surprise is completely reflected in his whole look, immediately followed by a bunch of emotions that start to pile up in his whole being and want to come out, as he feels his whole body tense up and a feeling in his stomach invades him.

This leaves him and you in a state of momentary restlessness, where time seems to stand still and the silence is too loud. You, with your gaze fixed on him, try to keep your composure with a mixture of fear, insecurity and some determination to protect your son at all costs.

It didn't take long for Aemond's surprise to turn into a moment of awe and a surge of overwhelming emotions. The mere sight of you with his child in your arms triggers disbelief, pent-up longing and a feeling of suppressed joy.

"Y/N," Aemond calls your name in a whisper, his tone laden with surprise and visible regret, where his gaze can't tear away from you and Aenar.

You say nothing, just watch him back without saying anything, with all your emotions reflecting in your eyes.

The moment is just the three of you, so Criston turns away completely, not interfering and saying absolutely nothing, while you continue in your protective mode and Aemond is still processing this whole moment.

With excitement clashing against the surprise in his eyes, he tries to process the reality of having his son before him for the first time.

He searches for the right words to speak, but his stuck mind won't let him, nor will the lump in his throat and stomach as he continues to watch the scene in front of him; you with his son in your arms.

He tries to say something, but his lips barely half open and the words won't come out, feeling his heart beating too fast and hard.

And you with your gaze full of expectation, fear and caution, Aemond finally looks at you again, aware of all the emotional charge you feel, just like him, as well as your fear and distrust after everything that happened.

"C-can… can I come closer?"

He finally asks cautiously, his voice with a tone of longing and nervousness barely contained.

You hesitate at that moment.

Feeling the weight of the situation and the emotions that are triggered at that moment, despite everything, you feel very vulnerable and you also feel his vulnerability, also that longing to touch Aenar and hold him.

And despite the way he acted with you almost two years ago and also the way Criston and all his team treated you, you don't feel able to be as cruel as they were with you back then.

You don't want to be like them and also aware that this day would come sooner or later, you watch Aenar for a moment, leave a soft kiss on his forehead and again watch Aemond, then nod in his direction with a barely perceptible gesture.

You allow Aemond your closeness and he with extreme care begins to approach you slowly, as if fearing that a sudden movement could fade the magical and longing moment.

Aemond's heartbeat echoes in your ears as he finally stands in front of your son.

Aenar, completely oblivious to everything, senses the nearness of someone else and raises his curious gaze to Aemond, watching him with those bright blue eyes.

And upon seeing that man with the same hair color as his own, his eyes light up with a gleam of curiosity, lightly waving his arms and also his body.

With his teary eye, he watches you for a moment, to again focus on Aenar and with a mixture of excitement and awe, he extends one of his trembling hands towards his small, delicate face.

And when the touch of his fingers against his soft skin of his cheek makes itself felt, Aemond feels an unfamiliar sensation invade him completely.

A sad but honest smile full of melancholy appears on his lips as he gently and carefully traces his face, running his hand up to his silver hair, gazing intently into those blue eyes just like his own as Aenar watches him with that playful innocence but also just as curious as his own.

You, unsure of exactly what to feel or think, watch as he carefully reaches out both arms and begins to hold his body, feeling the warmth and weight of his small body now resting in his arms.

That unfamiliar, overwhelming feeling from before comes over him even more strongly as he holds his son for the first time, when Aenar lifts one of his hands and touches his left cheek, where his scar is.

The emotion makes his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back the tears of restrained happiness that will come at any moment.

It was a moment he had imagined countless times, but had never believed possible until this instant.

Aenar, captivated by the newness and warmth in the arms of Aemond, his father, laughs innocently, his eyes dazzling a happiness as he notices the familiarity in that new face above him. And at his gesture, Aemond lets out a choked laugh, completely captivated by him.

And unable to contain himself any longer, the first sob escapes his throat and the tears fall, instantly pulling his son's face to his chest, embracing him with gentleness and that security that makes him feel so vulnerable when Aenar settles perfectly in his arms.

Guilt, sadness, joy, emotion, everything invades him in that moment.

And he lets out more tears for the comfort that Aenar gives him in his arms, that feeling of protection and even… love, that makes him feel even more vulnerable.

And you are still there, close to them but giving Aemond his space, watching everything attentively with your heart in a fist and feeling sensations you had not felt before at the scene, with tears also wanting to slide down your cheeks.

After a few more seconds, Aemond slurps his nose and looks over Aenar's small shoulder at you with all the vulnerability in his gaze.

"I-I know I don't deserve this," he says with his voice cracking, trying to control himself but he can't.

And he is about to say something else but you watching his expression, a mixture of regret and deep sadness, you step forward to speak.

"In spite of everything, he deserves to know his father," you murmur with your trembling voice and teary eyes, "Aenar deserves this," you assure him, accepting it as you watch the scene of the two of them.

Aemond nods, unable to articulate words, still feeling the lump in his throat, his face reflecting pain, regret and a sadness you have never seen in him before, as his tears continue to fall as he embraces his son.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, unable to contain the emotion, turning to him and to you. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know how to face it…how to be there."

Silence again settles throughout the apartment, only being filled by Aemond's soft crying, as you silently weep and continue to watch the two of them.

A few minutes have passed since Aemond and your son met for the first time.

Aenar laughs with delight as Aemond plays with him with one of his toys. They are both immersed in a little world of fun where it's just the two of them, surrounded by Legos blocks, small plastic cars and puppets.

You watch everything, or almost everything, without interfering and giving them both their space, watching your son enjoy a special moment that on another occasion, could have been a daily routine with a different life.

Criston doesn't say or do anything either, he at all times stands in the corner watching the whole interaction, letting Aemond have his moment with his son, genuinely feeling happy for him.

And even though the scene makes you feel warm in your heart, being a scene you longed for before, you still still feel insecure, afraid and overwhelmed by this whole situation.

This doesn't really change anything. You have only given Aemond the opportunity to meet his son because your son deserves it, nothing more.

Inside you are still just as scared and in expectation that at any moment this whole 'beautiful' moment will fade away. And that's exactly what happens when you hear Criston's voice all over the living room.

"I wouldn't want to ruin the moment, truly," he says seriously and honestly, "But it's important that we talk about all this so we can resolve it properly."

This immediately catches your attention and also Aemond's, with whom you exchange a quick glance, again feeling your whole body tremble and out of the same nervousness you are overcome with the impulse to take your son in your arms to feel safe.

"It is important that we talk about the child, about what you are going to do now," he turns to Aemond, "Custody is important and all that goes with it."

"I don't understand why you keep talking about custody," you look at him nervously and annoyed, "I alone have cared for and raised Aenar all this time."

"I know this is complicated and sudden, Y/N," Criston tells you, "But we need to approach this whole thing responsibly."

"Responsibility?" you repeat incredulously, "What responsibility are you exactly talking about?"

"Y/N," Aemond immediately interjects, "Listen to me, please," he gets up from the floor leaving Aenar playing alone and walks towards you, "It's not my intention to take our son away from you, truly. But we must make sure we have legal rights to be in his life," he explains to you, "You were the one who ran away, who disappeared without a word. I didn't know what happened to you."

You look at him uncomprehendingly, with your hurt and desperate gaze.

"You talk about custody and rights when in the beginning that was the last thing on your mind, Aemond," you observe him incredulously, "And you keep reproaching me for running away when you know perfectly well that I did it so I could live and so I wouldn't ruin your career, which was all you were thinking about."

Regret again invades Aemond's face, as the atmosphere becomes denser, full of mixed emotions where fear and anger resurfaces with everything else.

Any trace of calm and peace, has ceased to exist, only being perceived by Aenar, who continues oblivious and innocent to all this in his games.

"I-I…" Aemond tries to speak, "I'm sorry for everything, Y/N. But back then...

His sentence hangs in suspense, not knowing what else to say, trying to find the right words without wanting to generate more tension, but that's what he involuntarily does.

"Back then," you repeat, your emotions running high, "Back then you were too busy taking care of your public image, supporting the idea of an abortion without consulting me, then supporting the idea of hiding me and my child as if we were a problem, which in fact we were and as if it was my only option, leaving me with no alternatives," you express with frustration and pain marked in every word.

Regret remains in Aemond's facial expressions, looking visibly affected by your words, grief-stricken and with a regret throughout his body that affirms to him that you are absolutely right, each word being like a dagger straight to his heart.

"Y-you don't know how much I regret and blame myself for all of that, Y/N," he tells you with vulnerability in his tone, "And I know I don't deserve it, any of this, not even that you allowed me to meet him and that I'm now in the same place as him," he says with regret, "But I want to find a solution that works for both of us," he whispers sadly.

The room is again consumed by silence, except for the sound of Aenar's toy movements, which is what catches Aemond's attention for a moment to smile a little more melancholy.

The situation becomes increasingly complex as your emotions continue to run high between anger and sadness, with the memory of past times still latent, but also with the uncertainty of the future.

And Criston, trying to keep calm, intervenes again.

"I understand that you both have different perspectives on what happened. But now we need to think about the future, of your son," he says seriously, "It's not just about custody, it's about finding a way to strike a fair balance, but… thinking about your career too, Aemond."

You let out a disbelieving, ironic snort again, shaking your head.

"His career,'" you repeat with a bitter tone, your voice a mixture of sarcasm and disappointment.

Aemond, watching you sadly and remorsefully, speaks in a calm but regret-laden voice.

"I don't want you to look at this that way, Y/N—

"That's just the way I see it," you interrupt him, serious and sad, "This is exactly why I left. This is why when I saw you again, I decided to run away again," you say hurt, "Now that you've met him, you want to be in his life, but you still prefer to hide us. This kind of life is the one you wanted to give us at the beginning and now you still do too."

Your revelations Aemond had already heard, but at that moment, again that sharp pain in his chest becomes present, as well as guilt, remorse and regret at seeing your sad face with such honest words.

"All I want is to come to an agreement, Y/N, please—

"You're not going to hide us," you interrupt him firmly.

"Aemond," he calls him seriously.

"No, that's not my intention—

He insists desperately but Criston intervenes.

"Don't," Aemond interrupts him instantly, turning serious and with an annoyed expression towards him, "We can't hide the truth anymore, Criston. Things must change."

"Look, I understand that this is difficult for you," he begins in a serious and cautious tone, "But still, we must consider the consequences. There's a lot at stake here, your career," he reminds him, "You have numerous job offers. Your show on HBO is the most famous show on the platform and the most watched show on television so far. How do you think people are going to react when they find out about your son?"

The room sinks into another silence, as you watch him with your hard, sad face, frustration, annoyance and irritation inside you, watching as Criston continues to treat your son like he's a problem.

And it hurts you.

Because Aemond doesn't even say anything.

"We can find a way to handle all this without putting at risk everything you have achieved, Aemond. And if you get a share of the custody, your son will be under your protection without harming your image," he proposes with an insistent look, seeking his approval.

You look away again, completely incredulous and with helplessness all over you.

It's not Aemond, it's Criston.

It is he who continues to manipulate Aemond to prioritize his career over his son, so that everything revolves around public image and fame, diverting attention from the well-being of your son.

And what can you really do there?

He is his agent, the person who has positioned him where he is now, making him famous, relevant, telling him what roles to take in movies or TV shows that are going to ensure one more success to his career.

"If you listen to him…" you begin to say in his direction with a trembling but firm tone, "If you do what he tells you, I swear I won't care what I have to do, even go into debt to get a good lawyer," you warn, "I will fight for the custody of Aenar and when I get it, I assure you that you will never see him again, ever."

Your words slip from your lips with a determination that completely surprises Aemond, surprise and concern visible on his face, watching you hurt for a moment, his mind a complete mess.

But it is not he who speaks, but Criston who takes the floor once more.

"If that's what you want, Y/N… that's fine," he tells you seriously, his gaze cold and calculating. "But let me warn you, we're trying to come to an agreement—

"The two of you or you specifically?" you snap at him.

"That doesn't matter, Aemond is my client and my job is to secure and protect his career," he tells you seriously, "And if you'd rather take this to fighting for full custody of Aenar, then so be it," he nods at you, "But I assure you, you're going to end up losing."

"That's enough."

Finally, Aemond's voice rises from where he stands, aimed directly at Criston, with a serious, hard stare that reveals a newfound determination.

"We are talking about our son, an issue that concerns her and me, this has nothing to do with you," he declares, his tone firm and his posture defiant.

"Your career has to do with me," he clarifies to her also serious, "You must think about what you are going to sacrifice. Your future, your career, the opportunities that await you-

"I said that's enough," he spits back at her, serious and annoyed, watching him with a hard stare, taking Criston by surprise.

And before he can say anything else, there is another knock on the door, drawing your full attention and making you feel completely alert, especially when Criston is the one who again goes to open the door, as if he knows exactly who it is.

And as you open the door, just like that day, Aemond's publicist, an assistant and the PR people enter your apartment.

Surprise flashes all over your face, watching with your eyes wide open the unexpected arrival of that group of people, whose intentions are not good.

"Thank you for coming," Criston tells them as he closes the door behind him.

"Of course."

Their eyes flick to you for a moment and then focus on Aenar, watching them back with curiosity in their gaze, while you feel confusion and fear completely take over you.

Despair, fear, your future, Aenar, everything mixes together in a horrible way that makes you want to vomit, letting out a couple of tears to quickly turn to your son and hold him in your arm, turning your back to them and starting to cry silently.

And Aemond, seeing your reaction, equally as surprised as you, quickly turns to Criston, his gaze full of confusion and annoyance.

"What is this? Why have you called them?" he inquires with his voice full of restrained anger.

And Criston, unabashed and uncaring of his actions, responds with a calm but calculated determination.

"We are not going before a jury to settle this, Aemond, it will be a waste of time and she will cause us more trouble," he says regardless, "This is necessary for your career, to address this whole issue strategically to protect your image, whether she likes it or not."

Aemond's expression transforms to one of frustration and helplessness.

But before he can intervene, his entire team begins to act.

"We need to establish an immediate plan, now," Criston says.

"Will the strategy be to minimize the impact on the media?" asks the publicity man.

"No, I want it hidden," Criston clarifies, "The approach must be careful and calculated. The priority is Aemond's reputation and career."

"I suggest we limit the exposure of Y/N and the child in public."

"We could create an alternative narrative to deflect attention by highlighting Aemond's professional accomplishments and minimizing the focus on his personal life."

"This must be handled with discretion. We cannot allow this situation to interfere with Aemond's career opportunities," Criston says firmly.

And so your entire living room fills with the sound of all those voices, each voice contributing ideas to control the situation, the problems, Aenar and you.

The tension intensifies, as everyone meticulously plans how to run the public narrative, completely ignoring Aemond's and your personal needs and concerns.

Tears slip down your cheeks silently as you hug Aenar tightly to your chest. This instantly catches the attention of Aemond, who steps worriedly towards you, placing his hand on your shoulder, positioning himself in front of you, but you abruptly pull away from him, watching him with an expression of pain and anguish amidst your tears and suffering face.

"Y/N—

"Why are you doing this? Why are you allowing this?" you ask in your broken, desperate voice.

"No, I swear to you I had no idea that he—

"I left, Aemond," you remind him with your voice cracking, "I left to save your career. And everything was fine, with you and me, our lives," you sob, "Why did you ask Criston to find me? Why do you care and insist on saying you want to be in our lives, when your career is still the most important thing?"

Pain and confusion echo in your words, lingering in the mind of Aemond, who in his gaze reflects a mixture of guilt, bewilderment, pain and sadness.

But everything hurts him more the moment you turn away from him, with a defeated gesture, turning your back to him and your whole body trembling in fear, Aenar in your arms being what gives you strength not to fall apart at that moment.

"We can prepare official statements to control the leaking information to minimize any negative impact on his public reputation."

"Rest assured that we need to maintain full control of this situation. We cannot allow any details to slip out," Aemond hears Criston's voice.

And that's when something snaps inside him.

Every repressed feeling bursts out in a whirlwind of emotions that were fighting to get out, your worry, the anger at himself and the guilt that invades him.

Everything explodes and ignites into a fury that he can no longer contain, seeing your state, causing him anger and feeling completely guilty.

Because everything is in fact his fault.

So without waiting a second longer, he walks to the center of the living room and with a hard, serious, completely annoyed look on his face and with his jaw clenched, he acts.

"Get out of here, all of you, now!" he exclaims, instantly drawing everyone's attention and yours as well.

For an instant everyone watches him and nothing else, slightly surprised and expectant, Criston too, unmoving and doing nothing, causing you a wave of despair.

"I said everyone out!" he exclaims in a firm voice and his gaze full of determination.

And it's only then that one by one the team finally leaves your apartment, except for Criston.

"What are you doing?" he inquires with a touch of disbelief in his tone, challenging Aemond.

"You get out of here too."

He orders him annoyed and with irritation, his voice charged with a frustration that has already reached its limit.

"Aemond, this is important, you can't just—

"I need to talk to Y/N alone," he interrupts her with his tone in a mixture of anger and determination, "I'm warning you, Criston. If you ever do anything else again without consulting me and interfering with this, I'm going to seriously consider firing you, which is what I should have done long ago," he shoots back at him with his defiant stare.

The pulse of the room beats with unbearable intensity as Aemond and Criston hold a duel of intense stares. However, in the face of Aemond's firmness, Criston finally resigns himself with a serious, annoyed look, full of frustration and resignation.

And finally he heads for the door, his footsteps sounding in the room as he leaves the apartment.

Aemond watches him leave with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, no longer feeling his shoulders tense. The silence expands once more as soon as the door closes and he turns to you with a gaze filled with a quiet, worried intensity.

The silence lingers for a few moments longer, a dense atmosphere charged with unspoken emotions. When he takes a step toward you, hesitantly.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice ringing with sincerity and regret, "What happened, my insistence… none of this was my intention, much less to cause you pain and hurt you," he admits with his vulnerability again reflected.

And even though it's just you and him in your apartment, your fear lingers.

"P-please don't take my son from me," you plead between sobs, your voice filled with anguish and fear.

Aemond's heart contracts in suffering and worry at your words, his gaze instantly reflecting it.

"What? No, no, Y/N… that is not what I want to do, it is not my intention to take our son from you."

He tells you instantly insistent but in a serene and sincere voice, taking a few more steps towards you, placing himself in front of you, trying to reassure you. But tears continue to slide down your cheeks.

"This is why I left, so I wouldn't cause you any more trouble, so I could live and keep our son safe," you repeat with your voice cracking.

"I know, Y/N, I know," he tells you sympathetically and with a soft tone, "And you don't know how much I hate myself for having been the cause of you deciding to leave, for having hurt you so much to the point of having made that decision," he says sincerely, his eye beginning to tear up, "And this is not just about him, about our son," he tries to explain, "Yes, it is important, but it is also about us," he speaks with a longing, "Since you left, I never stopped thinking about you, and I-I...

He hesitates, unable to fully express his feelings, as he stands in front of you and wants to hold you, you and your son, as he faces his deepest emotions, feeling a tear run down his cheek and looks at you with all the sincerity and pain in his gaze.

"I love you," he finally says, in a completely vulnerable whisper, trembling, lowering his gaze, unable to look you in the eye, "Despite everything, despite my mistakes, despite my work, despite everything that happened…. I-I still love you," he declares in a whisper laden with longing and regret, "And our son too."

His words get stuck in your mind.

With your heart clenched by the surge of emotions, your eyes watch him back with a mixture of surprise, pain and longing. Aemond's sincerity and vulnerability... it's all too much and makes you feel completely helpless, definitely not expecting that.

You can't speak, your words get stuck in your throat, your heart fluttering with the intensity of the moment, your surprise.

And Aemond completely understands your silence.

"I understand that you don't love me anymore and that you can't love me again, I also understand that things can't go back to the way they used to be because of my job. But please… don't keep running away," he pleads quietly, "We won't fight over custody, there will be no legal repercussions, I'm not going to do any of that," he assures you, "Just…" he lets out a long breath, "Just get back to work and let's face this together."

He proposes with his voice full of fragile but hopeful determination, unexpectedly causing you to feel a relief and a warm feeling in your chest.

"I just want Aenar to be okay and let's consider his well-being as the most important thing," you say quietly, while Aemond listens attentively with his face full of longing, regret and understanding, "But we need time and patience. Also that no one else interferes."

Aemond nods, with a slightly more relieved expression, but keeping in mind that there is much to resolve, to heal and to build.

"I understand that and… I'm willing to do whatever it takes… for him and for you," he says sincerely.

You nod too, as silence takes over again, but this time it is permeated with a shared understanding and a determination to face whatever is necessary for Aenar's well-being.

And finally after so much, you feel calm and fortunately, this time with the support of Aemond, who hesitantly leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead and another on Aenar's forehead, taking him back into his arms.

taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys

next part taglist:

@anehkael

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fandom #ewan mitchell characters

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Mastering the Art of Plotting a Well-Paced Novel

In this post, I'll delve into the essential skill of pacing, and explore how pacing can make or break your novel. By understanding the impact of pacing on your story's flow and tension, you will be able to create a well-paced narrative that keeps readers engaged and turning the pages. I'll be unlocking the secrets of pacing and learn how to master the art of plotting a well-paced novel.

Pacing is a critical element in storytelling that determines the speed and rhythm at which events unfold in your novel. It encompasses the tempo, timing, and sequencing of scenes, dialogue, and action. Proper pacing ensures that your story moves along smoothly, building suspense and maintaining readers' interest.

Imagine

Imagine reading a book where everything happens at a breakneck pace, with no time to pause and absorb the crucial moments. Alternatively, consider a book where the plot drags on, leaving readers disengaged and tempted to put the book down. Both scenarios highlight the importance of pacing.

For aspiring writers and authors, mastering the art of pacing is key to creating a captivating story that resonates with readers. It involves skillfully balancing action scenes with quieter moments, strategically revealing information, and strategically varying the pace to maintain tension and anticipation.

Throughout this blog post, I'll help you explore various techniques, tips, and strategies to help you unlock the secrets of pacing and plot a well-paced novel. Whether you're just starting your writing journey or looking to refine your storytelling skills, this guide will provide you with valuable insights and practical advice to help you develop a story that keeps readers hooked from beginning to end. So, let's dive in and uncover the mysteries of pacing.

Setting the Stage: The Power of Pacing

Pacing is the rhythm and tempo at which your story unfolds. It's like music for your reader's mind, setting the tone and guiding their emotions. It determines the speed at which events occur and plays a crucial role in maintaining reader interest. Think of pacing as the heartbeat of your novel, keeping your audience eagerly turning the pages.

But why is pacing so important in storytelling? Well, imagine reading a book where nothing exciting ever happens, or one where everything is rushed and there's no time to breathe. It's like having a roller coaster with no thrilling drops or a movie without any suspenseful moments. Pacing is what keeps your readers engaged and invested in your story.

One of the key aspects of pacing is its ability to increase tension. By carefully controlling the speed at which events unfold, you can build anticipation and leave your readers on the edge of their seats. Whether it's a nail-biting chase scene or a climactic confrontation, pacing can make these moments all the more exhilarating.

Pacing also allows for crucial moments to be savored. It gives your readers the chance to fully immerse themselves in the emotions and details that matter. By slowing down during these pivotal scenes, you can create a deeper connection between your characters and your audience, making the experience more impactful.

Additionally, pacing can be used to maintain tension throughout your story, even during quieter moments. By varying the speed of your narrative, you can keep your readers engaged and curious about what's to come. This ebb and flow of tension will keep them hooked from start to finish.

So, by understanding the power of pacing, you will be equipped to create a well-paced novel that captivates your readers. Stay tuned as we dive deeper into specific techniques for creating suspense and savoring crucial moments in the upcoming sections. Your journey to mastering the art of plotting a well-paced novel starts here!

Speeding Things Up: Techniques for Creating Suspense

Suspense is a powerful tool for keeping readers on the edge of their seats. As a writer, you have the ability to control the pace of your novel and create nail-biting suspense that will captivate your readers. In this section, we will explore techniques for speeding up the pace of your story and intensifying the suspense.

One effective technique is to use short, snappy sentences. By keeping your sentences concise and to the point, you can create a sense of urgency and make the action feel more immediate. This will keep your readers engaged and eager to find out what happens next.

Another technique to consider is the use of cliffhangers. Ending a chapter or section with a cliffhanger leaves your readers hanging and desperate to know what happens next. This can be achieved by introducing a sudden twist, revealing a shocking secret, or leaving a crucial question unanswered. The suspense created by these cliffhangers will keep your readers turning the pages.

Plot twists are also a great way to speed up the pace and create suspense. By introducing unexpected turns of events, you can keep your readers guessing and on the edge of their seats. These twists can be major revelations or small surprises that add intrigue to your story.

Lastly, foreshadowing is a technique that can heighten anticipation and create suspense. By dropping subtle hints or clues about future events, you can build tension and make your readers eager to uncover the truth. Foreshadowing can be done through dialogue, descriptions, or even symbolic elements in your story.

By mastering these techniques, you will be able to weave a thrilling narrative that keeps readers hooked from the first page to the last. So, grab your pen and get ready to speed up the pace of your novel, creating suspense that will leave your readers breathless.

Slowing Down: Savoring Crucial Moments

While it's important to maintain a fast pace in your novel, it's equally crucial to slow down and allow readers to savor crucial moments. These are the scenes that make your story come alive, the moments that leave a lasting impact on your readers. By creating breathing room in your narrative, you give readers the opportunity to fully immerse themselves in poignant scenes and important character development.

One effective way to slow down the pace is through the use of vivid descriptions. Paint a picture with your words, allowing readers to see, hear, smell, and feel the world you've created. By providing rich sensory details, you transport your readers into the heart of the scene, making it more memorable and engaging.

Internal monologues are another powerful tool for slowing down the pace. These moments of introspection allow readers to delve deeper into your characters' thoughts and emotions. By revealing their innermost desires, fears, and conflicts, you add depth and complexity to your story.

Reflective moments also play a crucial role in savoring crucial moments. These are the pauses in the action where characters contemplate their choices, reflect on their past, or ponder the future. These moments of introspection not only add depth and texture to your story but also give readers a chance to connect with your characters on a deeper level.

By finding the right balance between fast-paced action and slower, introspective scenes, you will create a well-rounded narrative that captivates readers on multiple levels. So, take the time to slow down and savor those crucial moments in your novel. Your readers will thank you for it.

The Art of Variation: Maintaining Tension Through Pacing

In this section, we will dive deeper into the art of variation in pacing and how it can maintain tension throughout your novel. As a writer, it's crucial to understand that pacing is not just about maintaining a consistent speed throughout your story. It's about strategically alternating between faster and slower-paced scenes to create a rollercoaster effect that keeps readers engaged and guessing.

By varying the pace of your narrative, you can effectively build and release tension, keeping readers on the edge of their seats. Faster-paced scenes filled with action, suspense, and conflict propel the story forward, while slower-paced scenes allow for character development, introspection, and reflection. This ebb and flow of pacing creates a dynamic reading experience that captivates your audience.

Strategic placement of high-intensity scenes is also key to maintaining tension. These scenes should be strategically scattered throughout your novel, serving as climactic moments that heighten the stakes and keep readers invested. However, it's equally important to provide moments of respite, where the pace slows down, allowing readers to catch their breath and process the events unfolding.

By mastering the art of variation in pacing, you can create a well-paced novel that holds readers' attention from start to finish. So, as you plot your story, remember to carefully consider the pacing of each scene, alternating between faster and slower moments, strategically placing high-intensity scenes, and providing moments of respite. This will ensure that your readers are taken on a thrilling and immersive journey through your narrative.

Beyond Words: Enhancing Mood and Atmosphere

Pacing is not just about the words on the page; it has the power to enhance the mood and atmosphere of your narrative. By understanding how the speed of pacing can influence the reader's emotional experience, you can take your storytelling to the next level.

One technique for using pacing to set the tone is to vary the speed of your narrative. By slowing down during introspective moments or important scenes, you can create a sense of depth and allow readers to fully immerse themselves in the atmosphere you're trying to convey. On the other hand, speeding up the pacing during action-packed sequences can generate excitement and keep readers on the edge of their seats.

Pacing can also be used to create tension. By gradually increasing the speed of your narrative, you can build anticipation and make readers feel a sense of urgency. Conversely, slowing down the pacing can create a sense of unease or suspense, leaving readers hanging on every word.

Furthermore, pacing can evoke specific emotions. By carefully choosing the speed at which events unfold, you can elicit feelings of joy, sadness, fear, or even nostalgia. Experimenting with pacing as a tool to guide readers through important plot points and evoke desired emotional responses will add depth and richness to your storytelling.

Remember, pacing goes beyond words. By mastering the art of pacing, you can enhance the mood and atmosphere of your novel, captivating readers and keeping them engaged from beginning to end.

Plotting with Purpose: Pacing and Story Structure

Pacing is not just about speed; it's also about structuring your story in a way that keeps readers hooked. In this section, we will delve into how pacing works hand in hand with story structure. We will explore how to strategically escalate and release tension, ramping up the pace during pivotal moments and allowing for quieter moments of reflection. By aligning your story structure with the pacing of your novel, you will create a cohesive and engaging reading experience that leaves a lasting impact on your audience.

To plot with purpose, it's important to understand the relationship between pacing and story structure. Your story structure provides the framework for your plot, while pacing determines the rhythm and tempo of your narrative. By carefully crafting your story structure, you can strategically place high-tension moments and slower-paced scenes to create a dynamic reading experience.

Consider the rising action, climax, and resolution of your story. These key plot points should align with the pacing of your novel. As you approach the climax, the pace should quicken, building tension and excitement. This is the moment where readers are on the edge of their seats, eagerly turning pages to find out what happens next. After the climax, the pace can gradually slow down, allowing for reflection and resolution.

By understanding the relationship between pacing and story structure, you can create a well-paced novel that keeps readers engaged from beginning to end. So, as you plot your own story, remember to consider the purpose behind each scene and how it contributes to the overall pacing of your narrative.

Conclusion

Mastering the art of pacing is a journey that requires practice and experimentation. As a writer, you have the power to control the ebb and flow of your story, guiding readers through a rollercoaster of emotions and keeping them engaged until the very end.

By understanding the impact of pacing on your story's flow, tension, and emotional resonance, you will be able to create a well-paced novel that keeps readers hooked from start to finish. Whether you choose to speed things up to create suspense or slow down to savor crucial moments, pacing is a tool that can enhance the overall reading experience.

Remember, pacing is not just about the speed of your story. It's about finding the right balance, the perfect rhythm that suits your narrative. Experiment with different techniques, play with the pacing of your scenes, and pay attention to how it affects the overall structure and tension of your novel.

So go ahead and unlock the secrets of pacing, and embark on the exhilarating adventure of plotting a well-paced novel that captivates readers and leaves a lasting impression. Happy writing!

#thewriteadviceforwriters #writing #on writing #creative writing #writeblr #writers block #how to write #writing tips #writers and poets #pacing #writing advice #advice

[wildemaven]

strangers : poolside | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 6622 content warnings: 18+ blog; ANGST, soft!Dave, established relationship, miscommunication (like a lot), mentions of alcohol and food, workaholic Dave, morning breath, Dave’s stupid phone, talks of marital woes, slight exhibitionism, breast/nipple/clit play, a random handsome stranger, jealous Dave, talk of having or wanting children, a kiss of fluff, implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, established relationship, this is au- no Carol or kids, if I missed anything let me know. notes: ahh! I’m so nervous for this chapter!! But so excited for it also. I’m so glad I took my time with it so it could be exactly what it needed to be— which is kinda of a roller coaster of emotions. While the story is completely fictional, this has felt very cathartic to me because I dealt with a lot of similar thoughts/feelings as the reader. Anywho! Biggest thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for literally holding my hand through this and helping me work through it. 💕 strangers masterlist | previous | next | inspo board | playlist

The soft glow of the television bathes the hotel room in a soft ambient flicker. Faint colors and scene changes adjust the room’s atmosphere. Actors silently exchanging words back and forth, expressions all the more dramatic with the muted volume. The movie you’ve been looking forward to seeing, long forgotten, playing out in silence across the screen. 

As expected, the bed is better than anything you have ever slept in. Its plush mattress, divine and soft. Similar to what you assume it might be like to doze off among the clouds. It braces your bodies with ease through shifting positions as the evening extends into the early hours of the next day. 

The intricate structure of lace and mesh material felt exquisite on your skin. Molding over your body like it was made for you and only you. The cups of the teasing bra cradling the weight of your breast, pushed up on display, enticing enough to bring a man to his knees— the plan at least. Taking your time, admiring yourself in the bathroom mirror once everything was in place. Your eyes roaming over your body, letting your hands follow suit. Imaging all the ways Dave would map over your skin in the same manner. The prospect for what was to come was thrilling. Desire blooming in your veins. Arousal warm and already pooling in the crotch of your panties. It was evident, your body filled with pent up lust, ready to be satiated by your husband. 

You delicately dotted drops of perfume to your skin— base of your throat, behind your ears, inner wrists. The warmth  from your pulse points amplifying the lush fig and sandalwood notes, blending with your natural pheromones instantaneously. Before rejoining Dave, you slipped a hotel robe over your body, concealing the lacey number with wild anticipation.  

His hands, gentle where they met your body with a soft caressing motion. Not rushed or seeking more than they were ready for. Blazing heat emitted from him, scorching your skin with a fieriness you so desperately craved. They stilled. Lingered. 

Dave. Your voice cautious, velvety sweet, calling out to him. 

The sounds that fell from his lips were beyond anything you could have prepared for. A booming roar reverberated through him. Filling the room. Consuming you. As quickly as the rousing fuse had been lit, it had just as quickly fizzled out mid burn. 

Dave’s snoring was like a shock to the system. The warm buzz of arousal dissolved into a cold emptiness as you lay in bed alongside Dave’s sleeping form. No amount of lace or lack thereof, seemed to be enough to seduce the sluggish man, already nodding off when you had come slinking out from the bathroom. Propped up on pillows, his eyelids growing heavy with each forced blink as stared blankly at the television. His dinner plate picked over and discarded onto the nightstand. 

This scenario you knew all too well— and regularly. The build up, always so hopeful. The prospect of Dave having his way with you, pure exhilaration. Your body so desperate, in need of a release that didn’t hail from a hurried moment alone with a tiny vibrating wand before crawling into bed with Dave’s sleeping form.

Your brain refused to shut off as you lay staring up at the ceiling, willing away tears. You finally settled on the only thing that made sense at this early hour.  He no longer desired you like he once did. No amount of time or vacations away could restore that connection. Then there was also that outcome that you dreaded the idea of entertaining— maybe it just wasn’t you he desired. 

*

The whole evening had been on a constant loop. Replaying and taking precedence over your usual fictional fantasies that unfolded upon entering a heavy slumber. The hotel suite balcony offered a reprieve from the room, quietly sipping your coffee alone. 

It was mid morning when you decided to crawl out of bed, in desperate need of something to numb the dullness that settled behind your eyes. Sleep did little to ease the tornado of thoughts that swept through your mind as the sun rose over the coast of California. Your brain had a funny way of tormenting you with fabricated information. On high alert the minute it sensed uncertainty, in search of answers to unasked questions.

As the coastal fog burned off, you were able to properly take in the view. A colony of gulls flew by, their collaborative squawking was every bit as annoying as it was captivating. 

Fellow early risers strolled the sidewalks below, coffees and large water bottles in tow, all absorbed in their little private worlds. Couples hand in hand, in search of  the perfect ocean view to start their day. A strange feeling of resentment had crept in. These strangers, carrying on with their lives, seemingly unaware of the jealousy you harbored for their happiness. 

Your thoughts trail back to Dave and the evening again. It was only the first day and the optimism around this vacation was starting to wane. 

“Shit— I must have really needed some fucking sleep.”  Dave groans as he joins you on the balcony, his hands rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The sheet wrinkles embedded into the side of his face matched the similar ones on his cotton pajama pants and gray sleep shirt. His sleep etched voice is one of your favorite things to wake up to each morning. “I don’t even remember falling asleep at all.” 

His body molds into yours, caging you in against the edge of the balcony. He’s warm and soft first thing in the morning. Like a moth to a flame, his lips find your skin. Tiny wet pecks from the base of your neck to your temple. 

There was a point in time where things in your marriage felt very easy and Dave wasn’t always so invested in his work. You never felt like you were competing with files and phone calls for his undivided attention. The infatuation he held for you was palpable, leaving little room for doubt or worry. 

When you met Dave there was an enigmatic quality about him. Neither of you were in a relationship or seeking out one, but also not completely opposed to the prospect of exploring one if something happened to fall into your laps. A chance meeting at a bar when his drink had literally fallen into your lap led to the rest of the evening spent tucked away in a dimly lit booth. The buzz of alcohol had you talking his ear off, and he allowed you to do so, consuming every little detail about you. 

Dave shared minimal information about himself. Very on brand for his reserved but alluring demeanor. Aside from basic introductory  facts, the only real thing you knew about him was his recent discharge from the military and his onboarding career in the CIA. 

By the end of the night, you felt there was something intriguing about Dave, completely drawn to him. He was kind, generous and clearly the greatest listener. Ideally, he was someone you could see yourself with, wanting to know the ins and outs of who he was. So much so, you gave him your number. Scrawled across a beer soaked napkin, the ink bleeding out as each digit was carefully written out. He even said he’d call, leaving you with a kiss on your cheek before rejoining his buddies and calling it a night. 

It was a week before you heard from him again, nearly giving up any hope he would be even remotely interested in you. 

You learned that Dave’s walls were strong. Built of the strongest concrete. Resistant and impermeable to the elements. Over time his walls couldn’t withstand the depth at which you were willing to endure for him. Slowly crumbling and exposed. Finding that underneath the rubble was a man who was all in. A man who loved hard and never once made you question his loyalty to you. 

“We can blame it on the jet lag.” You laugh softly into the coffee mug, taking another sip— definitely in need of more. 

“Good morning, Honey.” He says, nudging his aquiline nose into your cheek, instinctively turning into him. 

“Morning, Babe.” Dave turns you, the top of your robe slides off your shoulder— exposing the lace set you were still wearing.  

“You’re still wearing it. Didn’t even get the chance to peel it off of you like I wanted to last night.” Pulling at the robe belt, the front falls open. Dave’s eyes widened, taking you all in, his irises now a deeper shade of his usual brown. “

“Yeah, well—“ You huffed, suppressing the impulse to acknowledge the hurt that was still ever-present. 

“Fuck— Baby, I’m sorry. I'm two for two now. Let me make it up to you?” 

Dave’s hands breach the inside of your robe. His hips flush to you— he’s hard, morning wood ready and eager. His deft fingers slide up the length of your spine, your skin covered in goosebumps once he reaches the clasp of the bra. 

“Morning coffee breath— I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your head swerves his oncoming kiss, pulling the front of your robe closed again. 

A hitch in your confidence. Curling in on yourself as you dislodge your body from where he has you pinned. That hot coiling response building in your lower abdomen, moments ago desperate for the way Dave wants you, now subsiding to a low simmer.

“You— um, have those calls you still need to make this morning?” You ask him, standing half way through the door, turning enough to catch the sunlight illuminating the bafflement on Dave’s face. 

“Uh— Yeah. Still need to make those calls.” Dave’s dejected tone hits you like a bucket of ice. His head hanging and palms digging into his eyes. 

“How long do you think it should take?”

“Few hours, give or take. Done by noon at the latest.”

“Okay. Maybe, if you’re up for it when you’re done— maybe we can go to the pool? Lounge a bit. Have some drinks. I got some new bathing suits, and have been dying to wear them. I think you might even like them.” An olive branch in the form of you served on a platter wearing minimal clothing. The likelihood of Dave accepting is rather favorable. 

It’s unmistakable, devouring you— all conspicuous like and intense. Surveying every inch of your form leaning against the doorway. 

Up the length of your smooth bare legs. The front of the robe flapping with the ocean breeze offering a peek of thigh and black lace. The fingers of your free hand toy with the collar, making it lay askew across your chest. A single breast exposed to cool morning air, nipple tight against the sheer material. 

His gaze finally meets yours, shoulders lowering to their normal level. The slightest lift at the corner of his mouth, tip of his tongue gliding over his full bottom lip. Both of you landing on the same page, temptation reciprocated with blatant irresistibility. 

“Yeah— Yeah, we can definitely do that.” He replied, his smile widening, the corner of his eyes crinkled— the Dave you fell in love with all those years ago in his truest form. 

“Okay. I’ll order us some breakfast then. More coffee too. I drank the whole pot.” There’s a giddy feeling erupting inside of you. It seems like it’s been ages since you’ve seen Dave smile— genuinely smiling. 

“Not surprised by that one bit. Hey—“ Capturing your attention before you’ve completely left the balcony. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Of course I do. I love you, too.”

Maybe it’s complacency that makes you feel like things within your marriage are stagnant, even borderline dull as of recently. The lack of regular intimacy, a normal thing all couples encounter at some point through their years together, not a telltale sign of extramarital meandering. Maybe that’s also not a bad thing. Just a season of life. A small hiccup in your otherwise normal and loving relationship. 

*

As promised, it’s noon by the time Dave wraps up his final phone call and you’re both sitting atop the roof of the hotel. Basking in the sweltering rays of the California sun is exactly what was needed after being cooped up in the room all morning. 

Breakfast in bed while Dave paced the length of the balcony. One phone call after the next, all varying in degrees of duration and intensity based on how animated Dave’s hand gestures and contorted expressions were. You had delivered his plate of eggs, sausage and toast during his first call, leaving it on the small table along with a fresh pot of coffee. He kissed you and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before sinking his teeth into the burnt buttered bread and continuing his meeting or whatever it was he was doing. 

The minute he walked in announcing he was finished, your two piece suit was on and you were throwing Dave’s swim trunks at him from across the room. Tote bag containing pool lounging necessities— sunscreen, sunglasses, current book, wallet —was packed and waiting by the door. Your sheer excitement filled the room, a contagious feeling in the way Dave was mildly laughing at your frantic antics. 

Either you both were the only ones staying at this hotel or no one else found joy in a gorgeous rooftop pool like you did. In the few hours spent lounging poolside, there was one, maybe two, other guests that also had an afternoon by the pool on their itinerary, too. There was a silent understanding among everyone that they stay in their respective spaces, evenly spaced out.  

No one was complaining though. Fewer people meant less people lined up for cocktail refills at the bar. Fewer obnoxious conversations you didn’t have to drown out while focusing on the romance novel you were close to finishing. Zero avoidance of bodies in the water while Dave and you took a dip to cool off. Aside from visiting the pacific, this is how you intended to spend the rest of your days in California. 

The moment you dive into your book, time and everything around you becomesa faint distraction from the fictional world you're absorbed in. The sheriff with his cowboy drawl and ridiculously handsome mustache, falls for the sweet baker. A reunion of past lovers, doing life together somewhere on the east coast in the small town they both reside in. A typical smitten cowboy vying for her love and attention at any chance he gets. There’s a permanent smile plastered across your face, dog-eared corners for future you to return to with the intention to relive the passages all over again. Page by page, you’re so engrossed with their whirlwind romance— you never want it to end. 

The book consumes you longer than you planned for. So much so, you're unaware of the fact that Dave is no longer immersed in the LA Times he picked up in the hotel lobby earlier. The inked paper now folded neatly and discarded on the ground next to your tote.

Dave’s tortoise colored shades blocking out the sun and hiding the fact that he’s passed out. For how long, you’re not sure. Breathing is light and rhythmic. His usual thundering snore trades for small puffs of air from his parted lips. His bare golden chest, now a pale shade of red— shit!

Folding the current page of the book, tossing it to the end of your lounge chair, you sit up in search for more sunscreen for Dave, and yourself. Sifting through the contents of your tote, finding the bottle conveniently at the bottom. Hating the feeling of residual lotion getting between your jewelry, you remove your rings and toss them into a secured pocket inside the tote. 

“Dave? Babe, wake up!” Gently nudging his bare shoulder to wake him. 

“Hmmm—“ Dave grumbles a string of incoherent sleep laden words, lifting his head in your direction. 

“Sorry. You passed out and I was so caught up in my book, I didn’t realize the umbrella shade wasn’t covering us anymore. You’re not completely burnt, but we’ve been here for a while. Sit up and let me put some more sunscreen on you.” You motion for him to sit forward, then squeeze a heaping amount of lotion in your hand, tossing the back into the tote. 

Dave hissed, his back arching as you smooth the lotion over his warmed skin, allowing himself to ease into your touch after a few tensed moments. His head hangs below his shoulders as you continue to work the sunscreen over every inch of him that’s exposed to the blazing sun. 

“Fuuuuck— that feels nice.” He groans when your touch switches to a different pressure. Adjusting your focus from protecting him from the harmful rays to pampering him, working out the built up tension he carries around daily. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of his back as they glide up the length of his spine, pinching and squeezing over the rounded muscles of his shoulders. Thumbs pressing into the tender spot in his neck he’s been rubbing at for the better part of the last few weeks, craning his neck to the side. So relaxed you can barely make out his mumbled appreciation. “That fucking knot has been bothering me— Ouch! Fucking hell, woman!” 

“Shh! So dramatic.” You laugh, easing up on the pressure. Your hands still lingering, smoothing over his broadness, taking advantage of the closeness. 

“Oh, quit it. Those hands always were fucking magic, though. Already feels better when I move it.” Demonstrating how limber and loose it feels, rolling his head from side to side. 

Were. His use of past tense doesn’t go unnoticed. It might have just been an unintentional slip, but its use isn’t lost on you in the slightest. It feels like it’s been ages, since you had explored each other—  more than just a fleeting brush of hands. Reveling in an endless honeymoon phase, well beyond the traditional sense. You can only assume he had that same realization too, hence his choice in using were instead of are. But this moment feels too good to dwell on the logistics of proper past and present tense, so you push the thought aside. 

“I’m sure if you play your cards right, there’s plenty more magic these hands can do later.” You playfully purred, not missing the way Dave’s eyebrows jut up from behind his sunglasses— that catches his attention. 

You settle back into your lounge chair, sliding the straps of your bikini top down and off your arms, turning it into a makeshift strapless top as you prepare to cover yourself in a fresh layer of sunscreen. 

 “What are you doing?” Dave tilts his head forward, just enough so he can peer at you over his glasses. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m reapplying some on myself, too.” Running the oily lotion up your arms and shoulders. 

“Here. Let me help you. Seems only fair.” His hand reaches out to you.  

“It’s fine, Dave. I can manage.” 

You’re not sure why you're shocked by his offer. Probably because you just assumed he would be diving back into reading up on worldly news. Top slimy politician was fighting for his life against rather damning accusations— the man is guilty, solely based on public opinion polls and your inherent duty as a woman to always believe the woman. Research shows more couples are putting their careers first, waiting to have children well into their thirties— that one does catch your eye, making a mental note to snag the article at some point. Sure, you can manage, but you also don’t want to. Not with him right here, so willing and capable. 

“Don’t be stubborn, Baby. And don’t think I won’t drag that sweet ass of yours over here if I have to. Give me the bottle and sit down.” 

It feels incredible. You have to remind yourself that you’re both in a public setting. This isn’t the time nor the place to let the salacious side of you self-indulge, but Dave’s hands are inducing the most carnal thoughts and it’s taking everything in you to not haul him back up to the room. 

Dave had practically hauled you into the chair. Maneuvering you both into a comfortable sitting position, his legs spread and feet planted firmly on the ground and you practically sitting in his lap. 

The task at hand is long forgotten, no longer a priority or even a relevant thought as you melted into him. His chest firm against your back, thighs caging and tight against your own. 

It’s when his hands cup your breast that nearly sends you into another dimension, so brazen and menacing. A practiced musician, slowly plucking each string of his beloved instrument as the chords play the intro to his well rehearsed song. Rolling your peaked nipples between his fingers, the fabric of your top adding just the right amount of pinched pulsation. Your eyes fluttering shut as your head falls back onto his shoulder, stifling a moan as pleasure surges through you. 

“I swear to god, Dave— fuck! Someone is going to catch us! ahh! Y-you need to s-stop before…” 

“Hmmm. I don’t know, Baby— I think you want them to see. Want them to catch my hands all over you. Hear the sounds I’m able to pull from you. I could probably fuck you right here and no one would even care.” Dave murmurs into your ear. A husked sonorous tone that has you completely surrendering to him. 

He seems to have this whole thing thoroughly thought out in a brief amount of time. Keen to his surroundings, already having scanned the entire area, aware of the people situated in cabanas on the far corner of the pool— paying no mind to either of you. His methodical nature takes hold, even as exposed as you are, he’d never put you in any situation he didn’t have complete confidence in. 

“Dave—“ Your body writhes with each continuous change in motion, the way he’s oscillating between a dizzy tweak of your nipples and the sudden dart of his tongue grazing your ear lobe. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you. It’s been so long— fucking miss the way you feel, Baby.” Fuck. He’s not wrong. 

You might have even mentioned you would be into it at some point. All vulnerable and the slightest possibility of being detected. It was more thrilling than you had expected it to be. You weren’t even ashamed how you were so absolutely turned on by your own boldness. 

“Please—“ 

“I bet you’re fucking wet for me too. Hmm? Would take much— pull those skimpy little bottoms to the side, bet I’d slide right in.” God you were! Unquestionably so, and throbbing. 

His hand traveled to where you’ve been craving him for so long, fingers brushing the top of your bathing suit bottoms.  

“Christ! Don’t you d-dare put those lotion covered fingers anywhere near my— Fuuuuck!”

Dave wouldn’t dare, but that doesn’t mean he won’t work around it. His hand cupping your clothed mound, your eager hips rocking against the heel of his palm. His face smashes into your cheek when he feels how wet you are, your bottoms sticky with arousal and clinging to your pussy as he slides two fingers back up to your aching clit. Groaning as he takes your lobe between his teeth and gently bites down. 

“Tsk tsk!” Clicking his tongue in a menacing manner. “Eyes open, Baby. Need you to keep watch, can’t have anyone seeing you while you fall apart.”

You’ve missed this side of him. Spontaneous sex was always something that was a regular occurrence in your early relationship even well into your marriage. You always looked forward to the days he’d come home without so much as a hello when he walked through the front door. His briefcase and coat were abandoned somewhere in the entryway— I missed you so much today. Need you right now —and then he was fucking you like a starved man against the wall in the hallway. 

“Dave—“ Your lashes flutter, the sun unforgiving as you fight to keep your eyes focused on your surroundings. Your body so desperate for pleasure, so willing to succumb, just needing a little help to get there.

Each tender circle he draws over your clit has your brain muddled with bliss. A restrained whimper escapes, doing your best to concentrate as Dave continues to work you into a euphoric mess. But it’s so hard when your body has been yearning for this, all of this, for so long. 

Your nails bite into his thighs as your lower abdomen begins to tighten. 

“Baby, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Those gorgeous sounds are gonna get us in trouble.” Fuck! Almost there! So fucking close—

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

“Dave— is that…” The lounge vibrates, halting Dave’s movements. The orgasm that was just starting to barrel towards you, vanishing from your grasp. 

“Shit! I, uh, think someone saw us—“ What?! No one is even paying attention!

Dave extricates himself from the chair, adjusting his sunglasses and his pronounced erection bulging under his swim trunks. He hastily grabs for some things as you sit perplexed by the sudden change in his demeanor. Your sexy audacious husband is gone before your eyes— leaving you with the tight lipped cryptic Dave, who you can’t seem to get a read on. 

“What the fuck, Dave!” Watching as he slips on his sandals and throws his shirt over himself, playing no mind to a single button. 

“Let’s finish this later— when we get back to the room, hmm? I’m gonna… go get us more drinks.” He says as he kisses the top of your head and heads in the direction of the bar. Hoping he brings back some shots, because you’re gonna need something strong to take the fucking edge off. 

“Yeah— sure…” You say. Stunned and breathless.

*

You're not sure if you want to cry, scream or laugh as you crawl back into your chair. Maybe a mixture of all of them. What a sight that would be. 

That brief glimpse of the fun adventurous Dave was intoxicating, even now your body is still buzzing and aroused. There’s a pang in your chest at how quickly he was able to mold back into the man you’ve needed for the past year, yearned to have back. Then instantly closed off and distant as if it never happened. Maybe the sun was getting to you, that whole moment some fucking hallucinated fantasy. 

Rather than dwell on it, you push the hurt aside. You reach for your book and settle back into the chair. Finding where you left off and jumping back in with the handsome sheriff, who literally worships the ground that this woman walks on— must be nice. 

“S’cuse me ma’am. Sorry to bother you, but is this seat taken?” A deep voice breaks your concentration, realizing he’s in fact asking you if the unoccupied seat next to you is available. 

A man in his mid forties, maybe early fifties is standing at the foot of the chair next to you. Your sunglasses hide the fact that you're giving him a once over, noting every detail about this random stranger who’s decided of all the empty seats, he wants the one next to you. 

His hair is slightly disheveled in a deliberate manner. Peppered streaks of gray throughout his curly locks. He’s wearing green and red plaid swim shorts and a worn dark blue t-shirt, kind of an odd pairing but it seems to work for him. You notice a dimple hidden beneath the gray scruff that almost hides his angular features. He seems harmless and rather handsome— plus, it would be rude to turn him away with no explanation. 

“Nope. Feel free to use it.” You smile at him kindly and go in search of the words you had just read. 

“Thanks so much.” He says as he removes his shirt and settles down on the lounge chair. 

“Of course. It’s no problem at all.” You tell him. 

You don’t even dare to look in his direction. You imagine this is what Eve felt like, tempted and allured by carnality in the form of an apple. Except your carnal desire is a fizzling orgasm your husband couldn’t even be bothered to deliver, now reawakening at the sight of this beautiful man. 

You would never act on anything, even as beautiful as he was, you were married and you love Dave— but that didn’t mean you couldn't admire, sunglasses masking your lingering eyes. 

“I’m Joel by the way. Joel Miller.” His hand outstretched to you, that damn dimple even more pronounced when he smiles. 

“I take it you’re not from around these parts are you now, Joel.” You give him your name and return the handshake— his grip is rather firm, but friendly. 

 “What gave it away?” He laughs. There’s a hint of southern drawl woven into his rich voice. 

“Well, you don’t seem like the California boy type for starters. Not that that’s a bad thing— I just get the impression you’re far from home.” You fold another page and drop your book into your bag, your attempt at reading sidelined again. 

“You’d be correct then. Texas— born ‘n raised. Since we’re makin’ impressions, I’m gonna guess you’re not from ‘round here either?” He looks over to you, his arms crossed over his tanned chest. The breeze catching a few of his curls, tossing them about. 

“You would also be correct. So what brings you all the way west, cowboy?” 

“My daughter, actually. She’s gettin’ married this week. Fiancé’s family is out here and they’ve got connections and what not, so they’re able to do it here at the hotel. They put me up in one of the suites, bein’ I am the father of the bride an’ all.” 

“Oh! Congratulations then. I’m sure you’re so excited then.” 

“Yea’. Crazy seein’ her all grown up an’ goin’ off on her own. Still got one more though. She’s turning 16– little wild thing she is. Keeps me on my toes, but I love her for it.”

You get the sense that being a father is one of his favorite things. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he started talking about his kids. 

“You and your wife must be so proud.”

“Nah, no wife— or girlfriend. Jus’ me and my girls. So, now that I’ve bothered you with my life story. What brings you out this way to California?” 

What am I even doing in California? You think to yourself. It’s then you catch sight of your husband at the bar. Dave is already looking in your direction, leaning against the wood counter, waving at you with his phone glued to his ear. 

“See that guy over at the bar? The one talking on the phone.” You wave back at Dave. You pick up on the shift in his demeanor from where you're sitting. His jaw clenched and brows furrowed enough you can make out the deep lines across his forehead. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shooting daggers at Joel— but you do know better, and that’s exactly what’s happening. “That’s my husband. We’re supposed to be here relaxing— not working. But he’s over there taking a phone call, when he was going to grab us more drinks and I’m here relaxing. Maybe one day he’ll actually show some interest in me again— until then it’s just work work work. Geez— I’m sorry to dump all of that personal shit on you. Like you even care about a stranger's marital problems.”  

“No need to apologize— I get it. My ex and me had our own issues. Tried to work through them, for the sake of the kids n’ all.” He says, waving off your apology.  

“I’m guessing it didn’t go so well?” You look out over the pool, catching a few gulls passing over. You can already sense his heavy answer before he even gives it to you. 

“Well, she’s my ex for a reason. But it’s for the best. And not saying that’s what’s gonna happen for you. We love our kids and do this whole co-parentin’ thing better than when we were married. Umm— y'all got any kids?”

“Uhh— no, no kids. Yet… I think? I mean, we both talked about once our careers were established we would start trying. And we did try for a bit, but never got pregnant, which we were okay with— figured it would happen when it happens. But now, I’m not really sure if it’s what he wants anymore.” You pick at the polish on your nails. 

You realize it’s been awhile since you and Dave readdressed the conversation about having kids. It’s always been idling in the back of your mind. Becoming a mother was something you would love to do. With Dave never really ever being present or interested in any sort of in-depth conversation, you haven’t really discussed where you both stand now on the topic. 

“Have you asked him?”

“No. I haven’t. I probably sh—“

You’re cut off when Dave reappears, holding nothing but his phone and wallet. 

“Hey, Sweetheart!” There’s a hint of irritation in his voice, his tone a slightly higher pitch than usual, though he tries to hide it as he bends to kiss the top of your head. 

“Babe, this is Joel. He’s here for his oldest daughter’s wedding. Joel, this is my husband Dave. Where’s our drinks?” Attempting to ease the weird tension he brought back with him instead of your drinks. . 

Dave’s glaring at Joel. His lips pressed in a tight line and his nostrils flared. Irritated? No, it’s jealousy. He’s jealous and it’s oozing from him. Dave was jealous at the attention, all innocent and friendly, that you were receiving from another man. 

“Uh, nice to meet you.” Dave reaches over you, taking Joel’s hand in his. He’s friendly enough, even though his smile looks rather forced. “We hate to run out on you like this, Joel— we’ve got dinner reservations later on and the sun is starting to get to me. You don’t mind if we head to the room early, Babe.”

“Yeah, of course, Baby. Let’s go— you probably need more water and some rest before dinner.” You get up from the chair to pull your cover up dress on and begin to gather everything between yours and Joel’s chair, throwing it haphazardly back into your bag. “It was so nice meeting you, Joel. Hope your daughter has a beautiful day and you have a great time.”

“Thank you. Now you two get outta here and enjoy your evening. My brother is wanderin’ around somewhere. I’m sure he’ll end up here at some point. Nice meetin’ y'all.” Joel says, giving a cordial nod and a two finger wave. 

You call out to Dave when you realize he’s already halfway to the exit, hoping he’ll snap out of whatever this thing is he’s doing. Knowing it’s more than just the sun that’s bothering him. 

“Dave, what’s going on? Are you okay?” You ask, stepping into the elevator with him. 

“I’m good. Got a bit of a headache. Probably just too much sun.” His thumb smashes into the floor number. The elevator doors slowly obstructing the rooftop view. 

*

The walk back to the room felt like it was never ending. The slap on your sandals against the carpeted floor and exchanged hello’s with the sweet old lady dragging far more bars than she could handle were the only sounds echoing through the long hallway. 

Dave’s body, all broad and inflexible, blocked the room door as he searched for the key card in his wallet. 

“Dave? Are you going to talk to me and tell me what’s actually going on?” You ask softly. 

The door beeps and Dave pushes it open. He seems to not have lost all his senses because he holds it open for you. 

“Dave, will you at least look at me— please?” You toss everything you’re carrying onto the bed, watching him walk over to the floor to the large windows. 

Even from behind, you know he’s wearing his sharp scowl. Proven by the way his hip is cocked out and on hand resting on his waist, head hanging with his attention on the floor. Too embarrassed to acknowledge he might have overreacted up at the pool. 

“Dave, were you jealous?.” You ask, your voice velvety and sweet. Taking a few tempered steps, you close the distance between you and where he’s standing, needing him to know everything was okay. You smooth over his solid back, all brooding with his shoulder blades tightly drawn together. One hand sliding around to his chest and the other reaching for the hand hanging at his side, intertwining your fingers with his, your grip tightening around him. “Baby— you were, weren't you? It’s okay if you were, you know. It’s obviously a natural reaction to have. I know I’d react the same way if it were you and some gorgeous woman. But baby, you know I only have eyes for you and only you— always. I love you, Dave.”

“I love you and I’m sorry.” Dave sighs, his hand squeezing back. I overreacted and shouldn’t have— it's implied without him actually voicing it, but you know he means it. 

“Did you still want to go out for dinner? If you’re not feeling up to it, we can just order in again so you can rest.” You ask him, resting your nose and lips against his sun warmed skin, breathing him in. 

His aroma is pungent, but familiarly pleasant. A subtle note of coconut blends with his trademark spicy musk and sweat. It reminds you of the summer while you were dating, Dave whisked you away to Rehoboth Beach on the coast of Delaware. Renting out a beach house on the water where you spent every morning watching the sun flee the horizon from the front porch. Evenings spent walking near the water’s edge, recounting your favorite parts of the day and dreaming of a future together.

“Yeah, we can still go out. I just— I need a minute. Gonna get some fresh air.” He says, turning his head to tell you over his shoulder. 

“Okay. I’m going to take a quick shower then.” You kiss the nape of his neck before you leave, grabbing the robe off the accent chair as you head to the bathroom. 

At the flick of the switch, a soft glow of light cascades from the decorative wall sconces. Everything becomes very automatic as you move through the room, placing the robe over the sink,  ridding yourself of your pool attire, thrown into a growing pile in the corner of the room. Intent on unwinding, trusting the spray of hot water will alleviate the weight of today’s tension before going out with your husband, until you hear Dave’s voice fading as he walks out into the balcony, muffled by the distant waves and passing cars. 

“Hey, Ashley. It’s Dave, sorry about earlier…”

Ashley. It’s light and beautiful, and yet feels like the most threatening thing to have ever pierce through your heart. All your emotions flowing, congealing as one giant mass within your ribcage. Its numbness best describes the way you feel, hollowing out the pain in your chest. It's too much to deal with or even believe. You shut the door, avoidance being one of your worst traits— but if you don’t confront it, it doesn’t exist. 

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#Dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

[david-talks-sw]

Let's briefly talk about this scene.

It starts with Anakin lamenting how the Clone War corrupted the Jedi and the principles of the Republic.

Now, Padmé thinks she and Anakin are talking about the same thing: this war is corrupting the Jedi and the principles of the Republic and Palpatine doesn't seem to want to put an end to it, instead increasingly amassing power.

She asks Anakin to get Palpatine to cease the fighting and let diplomacy resume. And Anakin. Gets. Triggered.

Why?

Well, firstly... it's because they weren't talking about the same thing.

1. What Anakin really means when talking about "the principles of the Republic".

While Anakin may say that he's concerned for the corruption of the Jedi Code and the principles of the Republic... he isn't really.

Anakin has a track record of saying he supports abstract principles and concepts, then complaining when standing by that hurts him.

Like when he'll preach that wartime forces him to make hard choices, duty over emotion...

... but then gets mad when someone else makes the hard choice in doing their duty, and it hits close to home.

There's this line Matthew Stover wrote in the ROTS novelization, which I think is very relevant:

“I think," Obi-Wan said carefully, "that abstractions like peace don't mean much to him. He's loyal to people, not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him.”

Anakin isn't about abstractions like "peace", "duty" or "democracy". He'll say he is, because he knows he should be, in theory... but, in practice, he's more loyal to people than to principles.

And right now, he's very loyal to Palpatine. Arguably more than anyone else. No matter how blatantly he acts like a dictator, Anakin stays on his side.

So whenever he uses the words "Senate" and "Republic", what he means is "Palpatine". To him, they're one and the same.

He loves Palpatine very much but the two other people he loves, Padmé and Obi-Wan, are both telling him Palpatine's bad news.

Which brings us to the second reason he gets triggered...

2. He's under an enormous amount of stress.

He's barely had any sleep since his nightmare about Padmé and is now scared at the prospect of losing her like he lost his mother.

He's been on an emotional roller-coaster with the Council, first being put on the Council, but not as a Master, then being given a mission but it's a mission to spy on a mentor and father figure. Now he's not even sure the Jedi trust him and he's not even sure they should, after his outburst.

Also Padmé herself is asking him to tell Palpatine to stop, criticizing the Chancellor just like the Jedi do.

It's understandable that he's on edge. That said... a huge chunk of this stress isn't Padmé or the Council's fault. It has been manufactured by Palpatine.

He appointed Anakin to be his representative on the Council specifically because he knew it would put Anakin under pressure... pressure he can exploit for his own gain.

That's what Palpatine does. He orchestrates pressure then swoops in, in the guise of a savior.

With the Republic, he does this by engineering a war then bringing about order (to the chaos he caused) as an Emperor.

With Anakin, he does this by engineering conflict between him and his family - Padmé, Obi-Wan, the Jedi - then presenting himself before Anakin as the solution to all his problems.

From that point on, he enables the Republic and Anakin to give in to the worse parts of themselves and implode.

The former goes from being a democracy to a dictatorship, the latter goes from being a sweet kid to a bad man.

#And if we wanna get technical he does this with Naboo as well #first he sicks the Trade Federation on the planet #then he uses the opportunity to become Chancellor and bravely “stand up for the little guy and punish the evil Viceroy of a corporation!” #Anakin Skywalker #Sheev Palpatine #Darth Sidious #Star Wars #Revenge of the Sith #meta #sw meta #padmé amidala

[strzlun]

ANTI-ROMANTIC

// yang jungwon //

pairing: helpless romantic!jungwon x anti-romantic!femreader

word count- 6k

genre/cw- fluff, angst, falling in love, slow burn, rejection, running, past loves, a little chaotic, (public) confession(?), confessions, first kiss, two people falling for each other, school setting, jungwon fell first but reader fell harder

summary- Jungwon experiences rejection but soon finds love with someone who hates the idea of it

________________________________________________________

Meeting Yang Jungwon must have been the flip in your life that you never expected. He came out of no where and took you for a roller coaster of emotions that you thought you didn’t have anymore.

But it seemed you were proven wrong, all your emotions needed was someone new to bring them out the hiding they were in.

Even Jungwon was shown emotions he never knew existed before, but when he met you, the person who hated the mere idea of love, he was shown all kinds of different emotions and he simply couldn’t get enough of it.

You were someone who once adored talking about love, you thrived in your own bubble that surrounded love that always reminded you of the time you once were in love.

Yet, that bubbled popped and you were faced the cons of love that you ignored and blocked out. Now you hated having to hear the mere mention of Love. Even thinking about love made you sick.

You were now simply an advocate hater of love.

You sat in a cafe, waiting for your friend to arrive. You never expected her to be on time, she never was. So you passed time by aimlessly scrolling through your phone, when you felt a presence near you.

You slowly looked up from your phone to see a nervous person standing in front of you as he played with his fingers and gaze on the floor.

“U-um hello” You recognized him as one of the cafe workers that you always see whenever you came in here

“Hi?” Your tone showed you confusion as he gulped down nervously, his gaze never turning to you

He took a deep breathe before switching his gaze from the floor onto you, he gave a a small smile.

“I know this is awkward but since I always see you in here. I was wondering if you would um like to go see a movie with me?” You were taken back by the sudden his sudden confession

“Oh I’m sorry but I don’t really do stuff like that” You apologized, you tried your best not to come off as rude

“It’s okay, I’m sorry to bother you” Soon you were left alone at the table and you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding

“And another one gets rejected” You knew that voice anywhere, it was your friend who finally arrived and just so happened to witness the scene, you glared at her as she defensively raised her hands

“I was just speaking the truth” Your friend sat down in front of you as you only sighed and sunk into the cafe chair

You didn’t like having to shut down any romance that was thrown your way but your hatred for it was much more stronger than your kindness.

“You know, I don’t do stuff like that” You groaned as you looked at your friend, who understood, she knew why you didn’t do love anymore but it still hurt her to see how had everything had come to

You were once the most known helpless romantic around.

“How about we head out? I have a few good store we can go to” You weakly smiled at your friends attempt to get your mind off romance, you were thankful

You nodded as soon you and your friend were already out the cafe and walking through the sidewalk to spend their day together.

The two friends now waited to cross street, they had spent a few hours looking around all kinds of different stores and were anticipating on heading back home.

When the sign finally signaled that they were able to cross the street, both sides of the street began to walk to reach their destination.

There was a boy who was walking in the opposite direction from you and your friend. You saw how he held flowers in his hand, ready to give it to someone.

Jungwon smiled brightly, excited but more nervous than he had ever been. He was finally going to confess to his crush of one year.

As you and Jungwon were walking in the opposite direction, neither of you paid attention to anything in your surroundings.

Jungwon focused on confessing to his crush while you only anticipated getting home, not wanting to dwell on the rejection you gave to the cafe worker.

The two of you ended up passing each other, not acknowledging each other, but there was no other way to acknowledge each other, after all you both were just mere strangers.

“Jungwon, over here” He heard someone call out to him and he immediately knew who it was, he was quick to hide the flowers behind his back as he happily smiled and waved his free hand to his crush

He walked over to his crush with an extra bounce in his strides, he couldn’t contain his excitement and nervousness. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest and he was afraid his crush could hear it.

This was the day he would confess to his crush. He’s been waiting over a year to confess his feelings so he knew there was no going back after this.

“Jungwon its gonna be okay don’t worry” Jungwon’s close friend Sunoo tried to comfort him, who only groan into the palm of his hands

“I’m not even sure if I got rejected or not”

He prepared himself just in case he did get rejected by his crush, and he had thought that he was ready for that outcome if it were to happen but when it actually happened, he didn’t know how badly it would take a toll on him.

“Don’t dwell so much about, I’m sure everything will turn out fine” Sunoo continued trying to comfort him but was then shooed away by Ni-ki, another close friend of Jungwon

“I’m sure you two will be dating by the end of this month” Ni-ki told while Jungwon only shook his head that still rested in his hands, he felt exhausted and all he wanted to do was rest knowing he had school the next day

Jungwon waited in front of the school for his two friends to arrive, it’s been over a month since the rejection and

the last time him and his crush had talked to one another. His crush avoided him, not wanting to deal with confession a month ago. Jungwon understood and respected his crush decisions, he knew better and wasn’t going to pry.

As he waited for his friends, he could see his crush walking home and it pained him that he wasn’t walking along side his crush.

He tried to shift his gaze away from his crush but he found himself making sure that she was safe until she was gone out of his sight. He sighed deeply to himself before gasping when he heard Sunoo’s voice behind him.

“You should go if you want to catch up” Jungwon shook his head, denying the suggestion his friend had given him, he didn’t want to be a bother so he decided he’ll simply be in the distance, waiting for his crush

“I thought Ni-ki was going to walk with us today” Sunoo pointed out the friend they were waiting for, Jungwon tore his gaze from his crush to his other friend who he saw walking alongside a person

Jungwon saw you laughing at something Ni-ki had said and he didn’t realize the blooming of a curiosity in his mind. It was rare for his friend to find other’s as friends so it definitely spiked his interest of you.

From time to time, Ni-ki would walk with you after school as you lived within the same area and today wasn’t any different. All kinds of different conversations were brought up but what made the two of you walk in silence, was the accidental mention of an old friend.

You could feel your heart dropping at the mere mention of the old friend. You felt like a splash of cold water hit you as you were reminded with memories you had with him. It made you feel almost sick as your lips slightly quivered, you hated it.

The old friend that you once were in love with.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mention him” Ni-ki muttered as he realized the change in your mood when you arrived at your house, you shook your head kindly

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow” You gave a quick smile before opening your front door and walking it, not sparing another glance towards Ni-ki

You knew he meant no harm and you weren’t going to take out the frustration you had for someone else on him. When you went to your room, you placed your backpack on the ground before laying on your bed.

You began to zone out, remembering of how times were back then. How you were so in love with someone who was bound to leave you without a trace or a goodbye, you were reminded of the time you never wanted to remember.

“What do you mean another class will be joining us?” The school day was about to end, only having one remaining class so Jungwon was surprised to hear of the sudden conjoining of a class

Jungwon straighten up in his seat when saw the classroom door open and in started walking the other classroom. To his surprise, his saw his two friends smiling at him, he waved them over but was surprised to see another person, you tagging along with them.

When his friends arrived, he was confused but nonetheless still greeted them and you, who greeted with a smile. You noticed the only seat available was next to him, you took the seat as the two of you gave another awkward greeting but after that, neither of you said another word to each other.

As the teacher began to speak about the excitement of having a conjoined class period, your ears faded the voices into the background but you could feel a gaze on you, the moment you sat down next to Jungwon.

You looked around the room to catch the glimpse of whatever was making you feel that way, but came short when you found nothing. You sighed, not wanting to dwell on it any longer so you turned your gaze back onto the table.

As you played with a random pencil, you felt a tap on your arm and you turned to find a paper, drawn on it was a board of tic tac toes with a question mark next to it. You looked to see Jungwon smiling softly, his dimples being the first thing that caught your eye before looking back to the front of the class.

You found yourself smiling for a moment before grabbing the paper and filling out one box before passing it back to him with a light tap on his arm.

You and Jungwon found yourselves playing multiple rounds of tic tac toe, only to have end in tire out of the multiple rounds.

But before you and him could have a rematch, you could hear the mentions of a project that snapped you out of the daze you didn’t realize you were.

“It’s a long prone project of getting to know someone new, someone that you have no knowledge about. This project will be over due in five months, it will consist of the pair having to get to know each other and to conduct a presentation about the information and what you learned from the person”

Ni-ki and Sunoo had randomly paired with two other students that had went up to them, already been wanting to get to know the two for months but never getting the chance to.

Leaving Jungwon and you still sitting by each other. the two of your finally turned to face each other and gave a smile, a silent agreement to the two of you becoming a pair for the project.

“Hi” Jungwon was the first the speak up, even though the two of you were playing tic tac toe with each other to pass time, you both were still complete strangers only having a mutual friend that was no where near

“Hi, so we are partners for this project” Jungwon nodded his head at your words and you gave yet another awkward smile as silence filled between the both of you

“I’m going to need your number for the project, and we can figure out how to do it” He felt embarrassed having to ask a stranger for his a number but he simply thought of it for a grade and a possible friendship nothing more

You wrote down your number on his phone, creating a contact that had you name with (school project) next to your name. Soon, you and him tried to talk in order to fill the awkward silence.

And what wasn’t noticed by either of you was Jungwon’s crush gathering the courage to go up to him and asking to become partners for the project. His crush stopped walking after realizing that you and Jungwon were project partners.

You were trying to create conversation with Jungwon and his crush could see his intrigued eyes as he listened to all of your responses. It was something his crush never experienced Jungwon do for anyone else before.

Neither you and Jungwon realize the worlds you both were aimlessly walking into, you only had just properly met him today and you already captivated him.

Now as the first three weeks went by, you were a little defensive with the project and ignored Jungwon here and there only giving mere greetings.

It wasn’t something you had against him, you were just rather selective with friends and who you talked with keeping the group small and minimal, but for the grade you needed to talk with him.

You sighed heavily as you saw him walking to class, you felt nervous going up to him but pushed it in the back of your head and went up to him. When you tapped his shoulder he turned around and gave a friendly smile when he saw it was you.

“Hey, I was wondering if you want to go somewhere after school so that we can complete the project?” He nodded when you finished talking with a smile to agree with the terms

It was awkward but you figured these next few weeks would be the only time you truly interact with him and after that, you both would sieze to forget that the other exist.

As you were walking out of your class, you found Jungwon waiting for you. You gasped slightly seeing him and he gave a quick apology with a smile, which you were growing accustomed to see.

Soon you and him were walking side by side out of school, trying to having basic conversation about how each other’s day went, etc.

Your friend who was looking for you, witnessed the seen before her was shocked. She knew you were rather defensive of getting close to people, so seeing you and Jungwon walking out of her sight was something she didn’t expect to see.

She wondered why out of the people that tried to get close with you, Jungwon was the only successful one.

“Alright, I have to ask one last question”

You and Jungwon had spent majority of the day together after school, and it was now night fall and no matter how many times you told he didn’t have to walk you home, he still insisted.

“What’s the last question?” You thought you both completed the project by then so you wondered what this surprise question was

“What’s your favorite romance movie?” Jungwon had his fair shares are watching different types of romance movies in order to fuel the helpless romantic he is

You almost scoffed at the mention of a romance movie but cleared your throat not wanting to be rude.

“I don’t like romance movies” Jungwon gasped hearing this and stopped walking which caused you to stop walking as well

“You don’t like romance movies?” He wanted to make sure if he heard you right, he thought it must have been his mind playing tricks on him

When you nodded your head, confused with the reaction, you could see Jungwon sigh.

“How come?” He wanted to know why you didn’t like romance movies and you were hesitant to respond, you didn’t know whether to lie or tell the truth

When you looked to meet his eyes, you felt everything fade around you. Your mouth didn’t catch up with your mind as you suddenly blurt out the reason why you didn’t like romance movies.

“Because I hate romance”

You went to open your locker and when you did, you were met with a flower and stuck to it was a post-it note. You’re grumbled and took the flower out of your locker already knowing who it was from.

You took the sticky note off the flower and read it.

‘Have a great day :)- YJ’

Ever since he found out of you hating the idea of romance, he was set in having you seeing the positive aspects of it. You didn’t need to be shown the ropes of love, you once lived in it and now you despised it with your whole being.

You knew he meant well but he didn’t know why you hated love so it aggravated you to see him trying to show you the positive aspects. You were done with love.

Before you could do anything else, Jungwon appeared at your locker with a smile.

“Do you like the flower? The meaning behind it is possibility” When you turned to look at him, his smile was still bright and you could feel a churn in your heart and you didn’t like that

“Here’s a gift for you, a flower of possibilities” You faked smile before handing the flower back to Jungwon and closing your locker shut and walking away to go to your next class

You could feel Jungwon’s gaze on you and you felt terrible. You didn’t know why you were more aggressive when it came to him than anyone else, but you decided to push past the feelings. There was nothing more to your feelings other than aggravation.

Jungwon didn’t know what came over him but he was determined to get you to view love in its positive aspects. His life was slowly becoming consumed by you, which is something he never experienced before.

His long forgotten crush had been trying contact him, wondering why where he was, already regretting ignoring him the first two months after the rejection.

It’s been too long and Jungwon’s crush needed him back. But no matter how hard his crush tried to talk with him, he was always by your side, whether you wanted to or not, he stuck by you with a bright smile on his face.

His crush would see the way you and Jungwon were interacting with each other, how Jungwon would offer to carry your bag for you, how whenever he wasn’t looking you would take a secret glance towards him.

It was obvious what was unraveling between the two of you, but neither seemed to accept it. Jungwon’s crush sighed heavily, witnessing Jungwon trying to hand you the flower you repeatedly push back to him.

His crush could practically hear his chuckle as he put the flower into your bag which you tried to stop him, but ended up giving in, tired from endless banter.

Jungwon smiled brightly in victory as you simply rolled your eyes and continued to walk, Jungwon along side you with the flower hanging out of your bag.

It was obvious, Jungwon was falling in love with you.

“Wait what?” Your friend stared at you in utter shock, there a little less than two more weeks until the project presentation in front of the class and you had nothing

“I know, I just don’t know what to put on it” Your friend sighed heavily before shaking her head lightly

“Do you not remember anything that he’s told you?”

“No I do, it’s just I don’t know how to put everything into words” You groaned already feeling frustrated, you were given five months for this project and you were coming short with nothing to show

“Keep it simple then, just write down the things you like about him. It doesn’t have to be anything too specific, just the things you noticed”

“You can’t lie to me and say there’s nothing, you’re practically with him twenty four seven now. There’s more than just a thing or two” Your friend’s words sunk into your mind as you saw her getting up from the chair in your room to grab her belongings

“Where are you going?”

“You have a long project to complete, so I’ll leave you be. Keep me updated” Your friend smiled before bidding goodbye and leaving your bedroom, you could hear the front door close and you were greeted with the silence of the house

You laid onto your bed, looking up at the ceiling as your friends words replayed in your mind like a broken record. You wondered through the memories you created with Jungwon these past few months, looking for things you noticed about him.

You took notice of his kind gestures, him always walking you out regardless how far both of you were, how he always offered to carry your bag. How every day you saw a note in your locker with sweet nothings written on it signed off by him.

You felt an uncomfortable thump in your chest that made you rise up from your bed. You didn’t like the sudden burst in your heart when you thought about him, you anxiously gulped down. You certainly didn’t like the wave of emotions that was crashing down on you.

The two weeks passed by like a flash and before you knew, it was the same conjoint period that you grew fond of. The teacher kept going down the list of the students, they all presented about their partner and you could feel the jitters settle into you.

You nervously bounced your leg, looking around the room to see everyone was invested in what was the be shared about the partners. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, but you were snapped out of your daze when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned to your side to see Jungwon smiling as a way to comfort you. He could sense the nervousness radiating off of you which he didn’t know why but he wasn’t going to pry. He just wanted to bring you ease.

You felt the same thump in your heart as you flattered out a smile before looking away and clapping at the classmate that finished their presentation. Soon you heard Jungwon’s name be called, you could hear his deep sigh before rising from the table and walking over to the front of the class.

You could see the slight shake in his hand as he walked and you noticed he was nervous, it was the same habit you took noticed of whenever he felt nervous.

Jungwon smiled to the front of the class before bringing up the paper.

“Hello, my name is Yang Jungwon and today I will talking about my partner who I am glad to call a friend now” His gaze went over to you, his smile never faltering before turning back to look at his paper about you

“During the duration of the project, I didn’t know if I would learn a lot from her. We didn’t talk to each other in the beginning, only merely giving greetings and walking away as if we didn’t have a project to complete about each other”

“Yet, thankfully we were able to finally come to our senses and realize we had to complete this project regardless of the remaining time we had. We wanted the good grade”

“Yet, I found a critical information about her. She didn’t like romance movies, now for me I adore them so imagine my shock. I was surprised so I asked her why she didn’t like them”

“Before I tell you all, I did ask and she has given me permission beforehand to disclose why she doesn’t like romance movie. But when she told me why, I was beyond shock. She hated love.”

“Now me personally, I adore love and I am a stubborn and determine person, so I was set to have her view the positive aspects about love”

“As the more time we spent together, the more I got to know her. I saw the habits that not many other people knew of, I saw a side to her that she didn’t just show to anyone”

“I felt grateful that I was slowly but surely welcomed into her world, I’m still grateful to this day. I try to imagine what my life would have been like if I never met her and I could see a long painful ride for me”

“I know we have our disagreements but regardless of those, we are still able to see each other for who we really are”

“Now I know I mentioned earlier that I adore love, I still do and that can never change but she showed me a perspective of love that I always ignored, love isn’t something that’s always stunning and beautiful. But rather, it has it’s moments where it’s dark and painful”

“Love is something stunning and beautiful but could also be dark and painful. Whenever we fall in love we take that risk knowing anything could happen, but those risk are taken because it means you get to love the person you love”

“It’s a bittersweet emotion and I am someone who’s experienced it. She made me realize what it was like to fall in love with someone”

“I took the risk of love because of her and I wouldn’t want it to be any other way. I’m Jungwon and this is what I learned from my partner”

When Jungwon finished his presentation, students in the classroom were crying, touched by his words. There were soft sniffling and when everyone turned to look in your direction, they were surprised to see you gone.

Jungwon didn’t realize you had disappeared until the end of the presentation and he felt his heart drop to his stomach that churned. He faltered out a smile before excusing himself out of the classroom, when he stepped out he was quick to look around the school for you.

His hands shook anxiously as it settled into his mind that you were no where near. You left without a trace and he didn’t know where you were. He put his back against a wall and crouched, he hung his head low as he let out a deep sigh.

He prepared himself for rejection, but he never prepared himself for the heartbreak of his first love.

You felt your lungs burning by how fast you were running, you felt like you were going to fall down but you pushed yourself. Your mind raced with millions of thoughts, yet the main one was Jungwon.

Jungwon and his confession to you. The moment he finished his confession and you felt the fast pace your heart was going out you knew what it meant. 
It scared you, you were never meant to fall for Jungwon. But you found yourself smiling when you heard his confession, you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes when you heard him saying he took the risk of love for you.

You fell in love with Jungwon but you couldn’t or more like you didn’t want to face the reality, that Jungwon brought back the side of you thought you lost. He made you fall in love after so long and it scared you.

You were happy to know he felt the same way but you didn’t know what to do so you ran away. You thought this would be able to help give yourself time to collect yourself before having to face him, if you even could.

When you reached your house, you went in and went straight to your room. You landed onto your bed and you groaned loudly into your pillow, you were feeling the conflict of your emotions.

You were overjoyed yet you were scared and most of all you felt terrible. You ran away when you loved Jungwon the same way he loved you all because you didn’t know how to deal with the foreign emotion again.

You didn’t go to school for the rest of the week. Jungwon always waited by your locker, still putting the sweet nothing notes in there just in case you came back, he would wait outside your classroom hoping one of the students would be you.

Your friend obviously noticed this, she knew you had nothing against Jungwon in fact, the night before you were just talking to her on how much you missed him but he didn’t know that.

So she decided she was done waiting on the sidelines having to painfully watch the two of you long for each other.

“Jungwon” Your friend called out for him, he turned around at the familiar voice and he gave a weak smile

“Go to her house” Your friend wasted no time, she knew the two of you needed each other and she was going to make sure you get the happily ever after you deserve after so long

“What?”

“Go to her house and talk to her. I know the situation is complicated but please trust me that she needs to talk to you” That was all your friend needed to say to have him drop everything and rush out, not caring about missing school anymore

For you, Jungwon was willing to drop anything and everything just for you.

It was a rainy afternoon and you were watching a movie on your tv. It was a romance movie that Jungwon never stopped talking about when the two of you spent time together, he said it was his favorite one.

Right when the movie was going to reach the climax of the two main leads, you heard a knock at your door. You paused the movie and stood up from the couch, you weren’t expecting anyone especially in this weather.

You walked over to your front door and looked through the small window, you gasped lightly and opened the front door. Your eyes widen to see Jungwon standing at your front door, clearly soaked by the rain.

He didn’t expect you to open the door but seeing you again made his heart swell with happiness and he gave you a warm smile, the smile you missed dearly.

You brought Jungwon into your house and gave him a towel to dry himself off. He had the towel wrapped around his neck as she dried off his hair, there was a silence between the two of you that neither dared to ruined just yet.

You wanted to savor the moment before having to face the reality. When Jungwon took off the towel from his neck, he faced you and you could feel the tension, you nervously gulped as you looked back at him.

“Are you okay?” Those were his first words to you after not seeing after a week, you were surprised but moved your gaze from him onto the floor

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check up on you, I needed to know that you’re okay” You felt your heart burst in that moment as you tried to hide the smile wanting to plaster onto your face

“Now that I see you’re okay, I’ll take my leave” Jungwon couldn’t handle it, he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest soon, he doesn’t know why he listend to your friend, you clearly didn’t want him here

When he started to walk away to your front door, you stood frozen. You didn’t want him to go but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to make him stay.

When he opened the front door that was when you finally came to your senses.

“Jungwon I love you” Now you didn’t expect to be so straight forward with your feelings but your mouth spewed the words before you could stop yourself

He stood frozen before whipping his head towards you, not believing what you had just confessed to him. You stared at you with wide eyes, as you looked away feeling awkward with the sudden confession.

During the week you were gone, you took the time to organize your thoughts and feelings and that’s when you could admit your love for him. You didn’t have to deny it any longer.

Suddenly, you felt his presence near you, you didn’t dare to face him. There were not words exchanged at first, until his soft voice filled the silence.

“Can I hug you?” He didn’t want to intrude in your comfortability, he knew you despised love and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable

You felt your heart beat faster at the thought of having Jungwon in your arms, still not looking at him, you softly nodded your head and you could feel his damp arms embrace you into a hug.

His hug was the definition of comfort, the comfort you didn’t know you need until you now had it. You wrapped your arms around him to tighten the hug, you didn’t care if he could hear the fast pace of your heart or the dampness of his clothes.

You had him in your arms and that’s what mattered to you.

You don’t know how long the two of you hugged for but when he pulled away from the hug, you moved the damp hair piece from his face as you admired it, Jungwon’s eyes were warm and filled with love as he looked you.

“I’m so sorry for running away that day. It wasn’t right for me to do that. I thought your confession was beautiful, but I was so scared feeling the fast beat of my heart, it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I didn’t realize that I fallen for you until you were done with your presentation”

“I didn’t expect to experience love again but you changed that. You awaken the emotion that was buried deep inside my heart”

“Yang Jungwon, I was the one that took the risk of love for you. I am the one grateful to have you in my life, I’m happy to know you were the one that made me believe in love again”

“I’m satisfied to know you’re the one I love” Your confession made Jungwon’s smile never leave his face,

When you both looked at each other still having the hold on each other, Jungwon felt himself being drawn to you as you began to meet him halfway.

While, being a helpless romantic Jungwon never had his first kiss but he didn’t feel scared or nervous. He felt happy to know that it was going to be with you.

When your lips met with each other, he felt like he entered cloud nine. The way your lips met with each other felt like the final two puzzle pieces connecting together.

When you and him pulled away, feeling a little breathless. You both entered a fit of giggles as Jungwon wrapped his arms around you again. It was unspoken but the both of you knew that this was where you exactly wanted to be.

You and Jungwon were finally starting a happily ever after together.

“You still going to hate love?” Jungwon asked and you felt yourself chuckling in his embrace not responding to his words

You could feel him rest his head onto your shoulder and you could practically feel the bright smile that radiated off of him.

“It’s okay, you’ll just be my anti-romantic”

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen writer #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen oneshots #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon fic #enhypen jungwon #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon x reader

[murderofcrow]

Transcript of Will Ramos' essay on Sleep Token for Rock Sound magazine

I might play in a metal band as part of my job, but I don't listen to much metal music anymore.

A few years ago though, I remember one of my friends saying to me, "Dude, you've got to check out this band Sleep Token… They're pretty cool".

I'd never heard the name before, but I'd listened to 'Hypnosis' and a couple of other songs from the band's second album, 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', to see what they were like.

Hitting play for the first time, I was caught off guard. You hear the guitar and these slamming instrumentals and instantly you think, 'This is about to fucking kick ass'. You're so sure that the vocalist is about to come in with some gnarly screaming, but then you hear this man singing, and he's singing so beautifully. I didn't see it coming at all, and as soon as I heard it, I knew that it was exactly what I needed to hear.

At the start of a long drive that I had to make on my own, I hit play on 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' from the beginning for the first time. As the record began with 'Atlantic', I was vibing to the sound of the music, but as it rolled through each track I started to get more and more caught up in this incredible sonic journey. By the time it was over, I realised that I'd been on this emotional roller coaster of love, pain, happiness, sadness and nostalgia.

Boom, that was it - I was hooked on that album. Every single song on that record was so freaking incredible to me, and I needed to know more about Sleep Token. Believing that my friend and I were the only people in on this hype, I spoke about it to my band one day, and they said to me, "You need to listen to 'Sundowning'!" I was so mad that they knew about this band the whole time, and nobody ever told me, but I went back and listened to Sleep Token's first album like they suggested.

I remember thinking it was very different. It's not as polished, but it's very dynamic and so beautiful. I think it definitely says something when you can see the progression of a band from just their first and second albums. From then, I knew they were onto something incredible.

It feels like more and more people have been catching onto that hype over the last year, and now it seems as though their name is impossible to ignore. I remember when they released 'The Summoning' at the start of 2023, the day after they'd released 'Chokehold', it felt like it all went crazy. They had something like 4-million hits on that song in just two days, and now, it's got over 70-million plays on Spotify. It was the beginning of a huge explosion for Sleep Token, and the first time I heard it, I was genuinely confused by it. It's so ridiculously versatile, and on my first few listens I felt like the super jazzy outro didn't fit at all, but the more I listened the more it began to click. I remember at the time I showed it to Elizabeth Zharoff, a vocal coach from The Charismatic Voice, and the outro was immediately one of her favourite parts.

She's from a completely other world of music, so to hear her approval showed me how capable Sleep Token were of reaching people outside of the metal scene.

I might not listen to metal music anymore, but Sleep Token are revitalising heavy metal. It brings back the nostalgia that I felt when I was a little kid listening to this type of music for the first time and being like, 'Holy shit, what is this? This is so cool'. I had started to lose that feeling over the years, but every time I listen to these songs, all those emotions come flooding back. In my opinion, there's no band out there that sounds like them - and that's a truly impressive feat.

Merging metal with pop, R&B, and rap influences, and bridging all these different gaps that many artists have historically been afraid to explore, there's something here for so many types of music fans. For a long time, metal bands have been putting themselves in a box. There's been this idea that a metal band needs to be heavy, that you need to have a breakdown in every song, and that you need to tick all the boxes in order to succeed. It's been so refreshing to see the evolution of the genre over the last few years, and to see bands like Sleep Token bring all these different sounds to the forefront of metal.

It brings a whole bunch of unique people into the fold. People love to say that metal is dying, but it's music like this that keeps it alive. It doesn't just move the scene forward, it expands it.

Now, there are all these people who didn't listen to metal before listening to Sleep Token. R&B and pop fans are coming into this as fans of Vessel's singing voice and hearing all these metal influences along the way. The second verse of 'Take Me Back To Eden' has this great rap-inspired singing part, and it's these little things that speak to different people in different ways. All of this feeds into our community in some crazy way, shape, or form. It's welcoming people into a genre that they may never have been exposed to otherwise, and I think that s a beautiful thing.

As a vocalist, one thing in particular that draws me to Sleep Token is Vessel's voice. I have always been a screamer, but I've always wanted to be a singer at the same time. I always practise on the side of Lorna Shore, but in my mind I'm like, 'This isn't very good. My voice is not fit for metal at all, as far as singing goes'. When I first heard Sleep Token though, one of the first things I noticed was that Vessel and I have a very similar range. Hearing him lay down all of these incredible parts, it makes me realise that I can actually sing metal vocals.

Back when I first discovered them, I wanted to cover their songs in the hopes that more people would hear them. Now, I just want to cover them so that I can sing something that is in my range.

Obviously though, his voice is much more dynamic than mine because he's been polishing it for a very long time. He does a crazy vibrato and can switch between his head voice and chest voice super easily. It's crazy stuff, and as someone who has been a vocalist for so long, I can appreciate the techniques he's using. I love to hear the different ways he's able to blend his voice into the genre.

Another thing that makes his voice so unique is that it's so emotional. When I hear Vessel sing, I can truly feel the emotion behind his words. He might be this otherworldly figure singing about an ancient deity, but there's a distinct humanity to his vocals. You can sense his sadness and pain, and whether people realise it or not that draws a lot of people to Sleep Token's music. They're the band that you can listen to at two o'clock in the morning when you're driving down the road alone. They're the perfect companion for those moments where you're upset about something, and you just need to listen to something that feels like a release.

That's a beautiful thing, because when you write music, you want people to feel the same emotions that you're feeling when you're writing it. The way that Vessel translates all of that is so incredible, and it's arguably my favourite thing about the band. Between his vocals and the instrumentation behind them, you feel exactly what they want you to feel. Even before thinking about what I knew about Sleep Token, when we were thinking about what we wanted to do with Lorna Shore, that was the goal. We wanted to bring a little bit more emotion into heavy metal music, and now they've done that and brought the singing into it too. Metal's now even more emotional because of the way he uses his beautiful voice, and I think that's what this genre has needed for a long time.

The truth is, from the moment I first heard Sleep Token, I knew they were one of those bands. Between their studio quality, their musical skill, and their ability to conjure up their own lore to incorporate into the music, I could see that they had the potential to be something truly special, they just needed that little push.

As soon as they got that with 'The Summoning', that was it - they were taking over.

First impressions are a big thing, and I think 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' will always be my favourite album because of the way I first connected with it, but 'Take Me Back To Eden' is phenomenal. They have been able to get all of their emotion out in so many new ways on those songs because there's even more happening from a musical perspective. They've managed to strike the balance between heaviness and beauty perfectly and that's what we strive to create with albums. The goal is to create an album you can sit with, front to back, and feel the waves of emotion. A record to let yourself feel those things, and an opportunity to sit in isolation whilst you experience that journey.

It's a feeling that's amplified within Sleep Token's live shows, and I was able to catch them at Blue Ridge Rock Festival in Virginia. Lorna Shore were also playing, and we had a meet and greet scheduled for that day. It was scheduled to take place from 7pm until 7:30pm, and Sleep Token's set started at 7:30pm. I was a little antsy, because I know that meet and greets always overrun by half an hour or so, and they were the band I was most desperate to catch.

I was sitting there, it was 7:29pm, and the meet and greet line was still as long as it had been when we'd started. I started to hear 'Chokehold' playing in the distance, and I felt so sad.

People online were messaging me to tell me that Sleep Token were playing, and I was like, 'I know! I can hear them, but I'm stuck here!'

That's where it started to set in how freaking massive Sleep Token were becoming. They're one of the biggest metal bands that I'm aware of right now, and there were so many people watching that set. They refer to their live shows as rituals, their fans are the congregation, and the stage as a place of worship. It's something that could easily seem tacky if a band did it with little consideration for the details, but they're so committed to what they do.

After about three minutes, as I heard 'Chokehold' coming to an end, I stood up and said, 'Alright everybody, I've got to go. I'm so sorry, but if you know me, you'll understand'. The people who come to our meet and greets know how much I love Sleep Token, so they were like, 'Dude, go!' I sprinted out of there, leaving the rest of the band still doing the meet and greet, and made my way over to the stage. I thought I was the only one who wanted to see their set, but ten seconds into running I turned around and saw Of Mice & Men's singer, Aaron Pauley, following me. We started running through this huge crowd together, and everybody was so excited. I'm not the type of guy to leave a meet and greet early, but I needed to witness that set. It was an act of true love!

Even when they post on Instagram after shows, the captions are always like, 'The ritual has been completed in Copenhagen'. They totally absorb themselves in the spiritual aspect, physically, visually, and sonically. It's a brand, and they completely own that brand. They've made it exactly what it is, and they stick to it.

When I saw them, they had four people onstage doing harmonies with them, and they just stood there in their cloaks.

They didn't move throughout the entire set, and I began to picture it as a church choir at the side of the ritual. The whole experience does feel super spiritual, and they don't just give 50 per cent to the theming, it's 100 per cent. People feel the emotion, see the way they embody this ideal, and hear this incredible music - and I think that's why people are so ready to absolve themselves in this spiritual moment.

Everybody has a different connection to every song because of the different things everyone goes through in life, but they get to experience all of that in a place where everybody else is feeling something too.

Vessel's vocals translate into their live experience so perfectly, too. His screams are even better live than they are in the studio, and he still sings beautifully, which is so impressive. I was genuinely doubtful that he was going to be able to hit all of those vibratos and do all the other crazy vocal work he does on the albums, but he hit every note. Sometimes, he doesn't even hit the notes that he does on the studio versions, but he hits another note that is equally as stunning. He's a true performer.

You can tell a lot about a band from their live performance, but as a band in the modern age you also have to put a lot of thought into your promotion. The way you come across on social media is important, and the way that people perceive you is largely down to how you come across online. That's why I've always been fascinated by Sleep Token choosing to keep the identities of their band members a secret, refusing to do interviews and placing the focus on their visual identity.

I definitely think that's played a part in their success, because it's allowed the music to take centre stage. I remember when I was first talking to the rest of Lorna Shore about Sleep Token, they told me about the lore behind the band and that the members are all anonymous. That was before 'The Summoning' came out, but since people have caught on there have been some serious investigative deep dives, so l'm pretty sure the internet has found out who Vessel is.

I didn't look that up though, because personally for me, I always really appreciated the fact that they were totally anonymous. I like the feeling that Vessel is just a voice in the ether. You can hear it, but you can't classify it as being the voice of any one person, it's just this intriguing mystery. I've heard a lot of people say that it reminds them of when they first got into Slipknot because when a lot of people I know first listened to that band, nobody knew who was behind the masks. They were just a bunch of dudes making music with no outside perceptions, but then obviously people found out. I think that Sleep Token have that similar allure for a whole new generation, but sadly for me that mystery was shattered when I met them after a show.

It was great to meet them, but I also really didn't want to know who they were. I loved not knowing and I think that the anonymous aspect of what they do plays such an important role in the impact they're having on the heavy metal world.

It's a bit of a double-edged sword because everyone wants to know their identities, but once you do know - you miss the anonymity.

There's something special about the way they're putting their music out into the world with no need for individual validation, and I think it takes a lot of guts and confidence in what you're creating to do what Sleep Token are doing.

Usually, you almost want everyone to know who's in the band, because often that helps push you forwards. If you have someone in your line-up who's been in a well-known band before, you want to use that name to get yourselves out into the scene more. Sleep Token aren't anybody, and that takes a lot of courage and humbleness to do. There's no predisposed idea of what their music is supposed to be or what it's going to be, and that's part of the magic.

It's something that also comes out in the lore, the symbolism, and the cryptic clues that Sleep Token scatter throughout everything they do. There are Reddit threads dissecting every single word in the songs and analysing each pixel within their visuals, but it's not something I've had the chance to fall into just yet.

When I first listened to 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', I could only find one or two articles about Sleep Token online.

They were basic articles explaining the idea of the band and what they were trying to do, which I thought were cool, but I never really looked it up again.

Over the last year or so, it seems that these conversations have spiralled. People are coming up with these different ideas about the band's story, and there are all these hints appearing constantly. I don't know any of the Easter eggs yet. I'm still just fascinated by the music and their wicked aesthetics, but I love that they've got people talking. It's become this kind of community around the band, and as someone who grew up in this scene, seeing artists who are able to foster that feeling amongst fellow music fans is such an incredible thing.

I think that's one of the reasons why Sleep Token have been able to find success on such a wide level so quickly, because there's a constant conversation about them. If people aren't talking about their music, they're talking about the lore and the stories behind it, or they're talking about the potential identities of the band members. They have this perfect package in place that lends itself to a world class metal band, but they're achieving it at such an incredible speed.

They thought out every single element of this band before they even started, from how the melodies work with the vocals, to the emotion and the quality of the sound. A lot of people put out music that sounds like they're hitting a trash can, and whilst they might have really good singing over the top of it, you can't ignore that trash can. Sleep Token have got incredible production value though, which is even more impressive when you consider how versatile their sound is.

It's so well thought out that you hear new things in each song on every listen. If you listen to 'Take Me Back To Eden', the title track of their third album, there's an allusion to a particular part of 'Chokehold', and it's details like that which make their production so unique. They wanted to make sure that it came out perfect, and maybe - like all musicians I know - they think they could have made certain parts of it better in retrospect, but I honestly can't imagine how.

Between the versatility, the emotion that people feel when they listen to it, the heaviness, the quality, and the songwriting, Sleep Token don't cut any corners anywhere. That's why they're already playing these huge, career defining shows, and putting out music that's changing people's perception of heavy music as a whole. It's so exciting to be a Sleep Token fan, and I just want them to write even more mind-blowing music and play even bigger places because they truly deserve it.

The bigger the places that they play, the better they're going to sound live. They're already playing arenas over in the UK, and with the size of those venues I just know they're going to sound absolutely incredible. They're reaching heights much higher than most metal bands that I know, and the bigger they get, the better their production value is going to be all round.

'Take Me Back To Eden' only came out earlier this year, but I already can't wait to hear them put out more music. lf what we heard on album three is the direction that they're going in, I'm very optimistic to see what the future holds for Sleep Token. I imagine at one point, they're going to make it on the radio - and honestly it could happen sooner rather than later. I knew it when I first heard them, and I'm even more certain of it now - they're going to be huge.

#tumblr if you don't post this again after i've spent over two hours on this so help me istg #sleep token #sleep token worship #will ramos #lorna shore

[evvlevie]

I basically shifted again.

hi, hello, it‘s me: your favorite shifting blogger Evie 😼❤️

ever since your girl Eves has had the time and motivation to focus back on shifting, she has been on fire 👀

I suppose that if you guys are seeing this right here, you have probably read my most liked / reblogged / commented post about my first shifting experience already. And in case you didn‘t …

➡️ G O C R A Z Y R I G H T H E R E ⬅️

This one is going to be as detailed as possible once again, so in case you are one impatient mother-lover: I am sorry <3

🍎 MOMENTS BEFORE 🍎

🔆 I am telling you this time was very different from the first time for one very very important reason: I didn‘t fucking try to shift. Last time I was actively trying methods and visualizations, I actively tried to keep me in the right mindset and I don‘t want to say I was forcing it, but I was definitely concentrating on shifting. 🔆 Ever since I started embodying the energy/the mindset I was describing in this exact post, I never even methodically tried to initiate shifting. All I ever did was rely on the universe to basically let me meet my DR as soon as it deemed me ready for it. 🔆 However I was following a certain routine for the last week when it came to shifting and I suppose that was very crucial. Each night before falling asleep I would take my melatonin spray and I would very consciously and with clear intent say with each spray I took: „This is my shifting spray, and now I will shift tonight.“ I always take like 4 sprays and then I would lay down to sleep and just imagine one certain scenario tied to my DR and nothing else. I wasn’t even actively trying to feel every emotion, or sensation like I used to do it when I attempted shifting, I was just playing the scene over in my head and basically just enjoyed the moment for myself. 🔆 Last night tho, I did not take any melatonin and I didn’t even imagine my little scene because i laid down to sleep so late at night I actually forgot to try basically. But since I was so used to my routine and this was so imbedded into my brain my subconscious was very aware of my shifting-intent. Since I was not actively trying to shift, I was not monitoring any feelings or signs or symptoms and everything just happened naturally which is the key here. I did mention in this old ass post, that when you are too aware of you shifting you basically sabotage yourself and keep yourself from shifting.

🍎 THE MOMENT 🍎

🔆 I distinctively remember how I was in the middle of falling asleep, and suddenly I felt like I was floating. And when I say suddenly I mean from one second to the other I suddenly felt like there was no mattress under me anymore, and I was just flying around in the fucking universe or something. 🔆 even if I didn‘t open my eyes somehow everything I saw was a white light swallowing me and everything around me was white 🔆 As weird as this may sound now but I was very aware of the fact that I was between realities in that moment and that I was basically swirling round the universe in order to land in my DR. 🔆 In my imagination my DR-Day starts with me waking up on a bed, because I am in a luxurious hotel in Bali and it‘s my wedding weekend (I‘m having a How-I-met-your-mother-season-9-kind-of-DR) . I always had a very specific hotel room in mind when visualizing me waking up. And even if I wasn’t really conscious of anything I just know I was swirling around trying to do a front flip onto that damn DR-Bed in order to land there. 🔆 I know how fucking idiotic that sounds but you guys need to understand that I am just that weird sometimes, that it is really like me to front flip into a different reality😭

🔆✨ the most interesting part about all of this, is that just like last time where I was feeling myself getting pulled into a different reality, I was able to physically feel all of my flips, just like when you go on a roller coaster and that fucker is turning you upside down a lot and you are starting to get sick. I could literally feel my stomach turning upside down.

🔆✨ before any shifting denying people want to comment on my post that I have psychosis again: I am a legal adult that has lived two decades, I can very much distinct between a dream and physical sensation, I have encountered enough situations in my life that allow me to make a pretty spot on differentiation here. I fucking know I was not dreaming.

🔆 I fucked up a little when I started becoming too aware of what I was doing and accidentally grounded myself in the CR again (like last time goddamn it)

🍎 ADVICES ?🍎

➡️ 📜 ⬅️ this ancient advice is going to be the best one I can give you. (dare to click that old ass looking paper emoji) Trying to control how all of this goes down, will only drive you insane I promise. Just like the last time, I shifted when I wasn‘t actively in my shifting-mindset. Last time I called that a Mini-shift because well I didn‘t end up really spending time in that other reality but this time I am confident enough to say I shifted. I was experiencing exactly what has proven me again that shifting is not only real, but that it is definitely a feeling you have to get used to.

I am so excited that after my nearly year long shifting break I am not only back, but evidently on the right track and stronger than ever

I Hope this post was able to help y‘all in some way or another, and don‘t be too shy to ask questions ❤️

Yours in every reality,

Evie <3

#reality shifting #shifting realities #law of assumption #loa #shifting #law of attraction #manifestation #shifting community #law of manifestation #current reality #desired reality #desired self #desired life #specific person #shifting consciousness #shiftblr #shiftinconsciousness #shifting attempt #shifting tips #shifting shenanigans #shifting stories #reality shift #reality #3d reality #111 #222 #333 #444 #555 #777

[loichte]

Moments Yuumori had me on an emotional roller coaster Part 1 (aka: Why you should read it. First, second, seventh time - idc) -long post

Starting with this. WTF

Baby Louis feeling the need to burn himself.

Ngl this did things to me

Go Liam

No one can convince that he was talking about the stairs. This is the moment I fell in love with Sherlock

This whole goddamn arc

Just happy, like a true friend

Sir, not in front of your brother-

Too pretty-

Sherly is such a good guy :(

I WANTED TO CUT THAT THING OFF SO BADLY

The rooftop scene was so beautiful

You deserve every single bullet you little shit

Liam slowly loosing his mind :(

Sherly making friends since 1856-

Adam Whitley and Sam :(

You sure bout that dear?

This whole scene makes me so sad I dunno

:( :( :(

One of my favorite panels. But Liam is so sad

Flashbacks on a happier life he'll never have

Listen. The letter was one sad slap in the face but this? Sherlock finally putting everything together?

*sobs*

#moriarty the patriot #sherlock holmes #william james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #sherliam #those bitches #I should be writing but I'm sitting here sobbing over these two idiots again #will continue this list later

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

On thin ice (Hockey Player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure Skater! Fem! Reader)

Omg y’all, first I know i said I’d post this on Halloween, but… I couldn’t help myself! Second, the time has come… the last chapter😭. I just wanted to thank you all for reading and for all the support! It means a lot to me. The usual, not proofread.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Alcohol usage, mentions of cannabis, cursing, no smut but a small small smaaaall make out bit. Miguel finally learning to use his words.

Word count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 15 [Final]: Maybe I’m too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new.

—

It felt like you were in the opening scene of a cheesy 80’s horror flick. Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads was blasting through the frat house you were currently at, a red solo cup with spiked punch in one hand, and the other grabbing on to Kate’s hand while she dragged you through the crowd with a laugh, your purple cape swishing behind you as you make your way through the sea of drunk college students, all dressed up in different costumes.

Eventually you found yourself in the kitchen of the frat house, it was small and despite the only people in said kitchen being you and your group, it still felt a bit crowded but what room wouldn’t feel a bit crowded when you were tipsy from alcohol, and every room had either someone in a costume, Halloween decor, or both. You took a sip of your drink as you looked over at Xavier with an amused experience as he playing around with his collapsible staff he got for his costume, letting out a small laugh when he almost knocked over a spider decoration that was hanging off one of the kitchen cabinets, before he let out an embarrassed cough and sheepishly collapsed his staff. You knew that you shouldn’t have let Kate give him an item he could use as an actual weapon when he was going to be drinking.

You were dressed as Raven, Logan was beast boy, Kate and her boyfriend were starfire and Robin and Xiaver’s roommate who you couldn’t remember the name of was cyborg. You’ve got to admit, the cape was fun, and you were thankful that Kate didn’t force you and Logan to paint yourselves gray and green respectively. You 5 have been making your way down frat row for the past 2 hours at this point, hopping from one party to another, and were planning on leaving for the next one, but wanting to raid the candy basket and take a few beers for the road (aka, the 4 minute walk).

Tonight was great, a nice way to unwind after the absolute roller coaster of emotions you’ve been on recently, school was starting back up, skating practices have only been getting more intense as you and Logan practiced for sectionals, and you still had absolutely no idea what was going on between you and Miguel, despite the good terms you two have been on recently, you two would be relatively snarky with each other, but there wasn’t any underlying malice like there was before a few months ago. Your thought were pulled pulled out of your head and your hand was tugged and you found yourself following behind Kate and the rest of your group and you all exited through the back door in the kitchen, and makes your way to the next frat house, Logan unlocking the gate that separated the front yard with the back one.

As you entered the next party, the song Goo Goo Muck was finishing up before transitioning to The Create from the Black Leather Lagoon, both from The Cramps. Despite your best efforts, and both your and Kate’s tight grip on each other’s hand, you had found yourself becoming separated from a majority of your group and you wondered deeper into the crowd, the stench of alcohol and weed filling your senses as you felt Logan’s hand tightened on your shoulder, you had officially lost the others.

You and Logan decided to make your way up to the second floor of the house, wanting to see if there was a way to get out to the balcony that you saw on your way in, knowing that you’d get a good view of the night sky. Eventually you two did make your way outside on it, Logan leaning against the railing while you were sitting down on the floor, using your cape as a makeshift blanket to keep your ass from touching the wood. Both of you sipped on your stolen beers as you both talked.

“I think I saw your ex on the way up here.” You throw out the information to him nonchalantly, causing him to choke on his beer a bit, a hand coming up and patting on his chest to try and help regain his composure.

“Um, you-you did? Where?” He stuttered as he attempted to act normally, but you noticed as he straightened up a bit from his position against the railing.

“By the bathroom-“ you didn’t get to finish before he ran back inside, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you were left alone outside, knowing it was better to not follow him and attempt to stop him. Taking a sip of your beer, your eyes drifted back to the night sky, how you wished you could actually see the stars, but due to all the light pollution that was only a simple wish, grabbing your cape and wrapping it tightly around yourself in an attempt to help warm yourself up, mentally cursing yourself for not wearing tights as you looked up at the gray night sky.

“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí solita, princesa?” A deep voice asked you from behind you. [What are you doing here all alone princess?]

“Hey to you too, Miguel.”

A silence fell over you two, before you heard his heavy footsteps make their way over to your direction, you didn’t glance over to look at him until you saw him entering your peripheral vision. Your lips pull up to a small smirk, a hmph leaving your mouth as you glance up at him, before you finally break the silence.

“A vampire? I was expecting more from you.” You teased with a snort, causing his to scoff in response, before moving to go sit next to you, which surprised you slightly but you decided not to say anything.

“I’m the phantom of the opera, and I don’t wanna hear it from you, (Y/N). What are you supposed to be? Some sort of witch?”

“No. I'm Raven from the teen titans! Ya know, the DC character?”

“Oh, sorry. All my superhero knowledge comes from Peter and he’s more of a Marvel guy-“

“I’m more of a Marvel person too and even I know who that is!”

“Well I’m not a nerd like you are.”

“Rude! Says the one dressed as a character from a musical.” You giggled with a scoff, and it wasn’t until your giggles subsided that you realized that you’ve two gotten closer in proximity during your little back and forth. You thought, maybe it was just you and the alcohol in your system, but when you noticed the sudden shift in Miguel’s eyes, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed some saliva.

You both just sat there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes, neither one daring to move, afraid that if you did, the moment of tension between you both might disappear, so, for what felt like an eternity, you both just stared at the other. Eventually, you grained enough control over your body to open your mouth to say something, to say what? You weren’t sure, but before a single syllable could even leave your mouth, Miguel took the opportunity to lunge towards you and smash his lips into yours. Immediately, you melted into the kiss with a sigh, your hands going up and snaking around his neck before pulling him closer, causing a quiet groan to leave Miguel’s mouth. Small whimpers and moans escaping your lips as his rough hands landed on your exposed thighs, the goosebumps that were already forming on your legs became more prominent as Miguel slipped them down and onto your ass, giving your cheeks a firm squeeze, before pulling you into his lap. You let out a squeal as your hands drop down to his chest instead, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the thin cape of his phantom costume doing little to help cushion them from the hard cold wood of the balcony. Your head was swirling, both from the alcohol and the make out session, and it didn’t help that you could feel his bulge from where you were sitting straddled on top of him, he pulls away first, given you both a chance to grasp for air, before his head dips to begin peppering kisses down your jaw and neck.

God, you’ve never wanted this man more in your life then you did right now, and you know that Miguel was feeling the same way about you, but you both knew there was a better time and place for you to both succumb to those urges, so with a final kiss your neck he pulled away from you, you shift to sit on his thighs, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly in attempt to catch your breath. Miguel’s hand goes up to wipe some saliva and lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

Once you were able to get yourself back under control, you cleared your throat before speaking.

“Look, Miguel. As much as I love making out with you on a bi-weekly basis, I don’t think I’m in a place, mentally for this to continue without at least knowing where we stand with each other. I-I don’t care if you only wanna be fuckbuddies, or make out buddies, or if you want to try for something serious-but I just want to know what you want.”

“I want you.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I want all of you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine, and only mine, and I wanna be yours.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #on thin ice fanfic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099

[nanowrimo]

How Finding the Right Writing Community Can Support You as a Writer

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Novlr, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is the world’s first writer-owned creative writing platform, built by writers, for writers. Today, professional writer and Novlr Community Lead Pamela Koehne-Drube shares some of the benefits a writing community can provide:

I’ve been a storyteller since I first learned to speak and a writer since I first held a pen. The writing journey is an emotional roller coaster, and no single day is ever the same. 

There are moments of delight, like when a scene I’ve struggled with finally comes together, or the satisfaction of building a character who comes to life on the page. There’s the sense of accomplishment when my first draft is finished and I get to read my completed story, and the nerves of putting those same words in front of readers for the very first time.

There are lots of silent rooms, the soft tapping of keys, or the scribble of a pen. Sometimes the isolation gets too much, and that’s when I grapple with writer’s block, wrestle with stubborn plot holes, or have to slog through edits I’m just not in the mood for.

In my years as a working writer, the most important thing I’ve learned is that while only I can do the writing, I don’t have to go on the journey alone. A writing community can make all the difference in keeping me motivated. 

What is a writing community?

Writing communities are as diverse as the writers who are part of them. Every writer will have a different need from their community, but what they do share is giving writers the opportunity to interact, share knowledge, and provide mutual support.

Some communities come ready-made. NaNoWriMo is a prime example, where diverse writers all rally together to achieve a common goal and support each other along the way. It has been one of my biggest encouragements over the years. And at Novlr, we’ve built an entire writing workspace around the idea of community, not only offering a virtual space for writers to come together and share their wins, struggles, ideas, and techniques but also giving our writer-owners a real say and influence in how our platform grows and develops.

Why are writing communities important?

Writing communities are a lifeline for many of us, offering a nurturing environment where we can learn, grow, and find kinship. Whether it's seeking feedback, gaining inspiration, or just breaking the isolation often associated with writing, they play an invaluable role in any writer's journey.

Encouragement

Sometimes, as a writer, all you need is someone telling you you’re doing a good job. Positive affirmations and encouragement can make all the difference, not only to your confidence but also to motivate you to stick with it. Being able to share ideas, troubleshoot plot holes, and celebrate even the small victories with people who get it is the perfect motivation.

Accountability

Being part of a writing community that openly shares its goals and commitments is a surefire way to motivate you to follow through. Again, NaNoWriMo is a perfect example of this; announcing your intention to the world and to the wider NaNo community makes your 50,000-word draft more than just an idea you have. It makes it real.

This accountability works for smaller goals too. Just sharing them with people makes them a tangible thing to work toward, keeping you accountable and on track to achieve your writing goals.

Become a better writer

Writing groups offer the perfect opportunity to get real-time feedback on your work and expose yourself to diverse and unique perspectives from fellow writers. Not only can they learn from you and your experiences, but you can learn from theirs by championing supportive and constructive criticism.

Rediscover the joy of writing!

There’s something truly special about the collective joy and camaraderie of sharing your writing journey. Writing groups help foster friendships where you can celebrate your shared successes. The challenges of writing become less daunting and more like puzzles to be solved together, and if you involve group activities, like writing prompts or collaborative projects, the process of writing becomes much more vibrant and enjoyable. 

What types of writing communities are there?

Writing events

Writing events foster writing communities where each member shares a single goal or focus. NaNoWriMo is, of course, the biggest and most well-known goal-focused event in the creative writing space. I have lifelong writing pals I’ve met over NaNoWriMo, and we still regularly get together for critiques. Last year, I even did a 24-hour novel challenge where we took the NaNo goal of 50,000 words but tried to fit it into a single 24-hour period. It was one of the toughest writing challenges I’ve ever done, but the community that came from it is amazing.

Similarly, online communities, like our Discord, that host regular writing sprints, often attract goal-focused individuals who enjoy the thrill of time-bound writing challenges. 

In-person writing groups

In-person writing groups meet at a dedicated time and place, like a local coffee shop, library, or someone's home. I host a writing group at my local pub on one of their quieter afternoons, and there’s a handful of us who get together, exchange ideas, play writing games, provide real-time feedback, and just generally share our work in the spirit of improving our craft. 

The value of personal contact can't be underestimated, as it does allow for more nuanced discussions about works in progress and provides a structure that many writers, myself included, find beneficial.

Critique groups

Critique groups, as the name suggests, focus primarily on providing constructive feedback on members' work. These groups are all about sharing drafts and receiving detailed criticism about your writing — anything from accuracy to style and accessibility.

Peer critiques can offer a variety of perspectives on your writing. It’s a great way to find plot holes, character inconsistencies, or stylistic improvements that you might have overlooked early on. Furthermore, by critiquing others' work, you learn to sharpen your own editing skills and gain fresh insights into the writing process.

Writing retreats

Writing retreats are designed to provide writers with a break from their everyday environment and immerse them in a space dedicated to their writing. These retreats can range from weekend getaways to month-long residencies and are often situated in inspiring locations, from country houses to beachfront cabins.

The tranquil and focused atmosphere of a retreat is designed to spark creativity and reduce distractions, allowing writers to concentrate solely on their craft.

Online writing communities

Not everyone lives near other writers or is comfortable seeking out strangers in person. Online writing communities offer a digital space for writers to interact and learn from each other, extending the possibility of collaboration regardless of geographical location.

Platforms like Reddit, Discord, and the NaNoWriMo forums are popular for hosting vibrant writing communities, providing a dynamically interactive space that keeps writers connected, inspired, and motivated in their writing journey, even if they can’t be with other writers in person.

Social media

Social media channels offer various ways for writers to connect, exchange ideas, and foster communities. On Twitter and Tumblr, writers can follow trending hashtags like #writingcommunity, #amwriting, #writeblr, #writingtips, or #NaNoWriMo to engage in conversations, share inspiration, or get advice. TikTok has also recently emerged as another hub for writers, with the #BookTok and #WritingTok trends really taking off. 

To sum up

Writing communities come in many forms and serve different purposes, but each offers unique benefits to support and enrich your writing journey. They provide the encouragement, accountability, feedback, and camaraderie needed to navigate the often solitary path of writing. It may be your journey, but you don’t have to take it alone.

As you seek to join or create a writing community, consider what you want from the experience and explore various options that align with your needs, preferences, and schedule. Remember, writing doesn't have to be a lonely endeavour. In the company of fellow writers, the journey becomes a shared experience, making the process less daunting and far more rewarding. Happy writing!

Novlr is free to use. However, for those who need the extra bits, there’s a 40% discount on Novlr Pro for 12 months for NaNoWriMo writers. Simply add the NANO23 coupon code when subscribing at Novlr.org. Offer expires December 31st, 2023.

Pamela Koehne-Drube is all about building creative writing communities where imagination thrives and writers achieve their goals. As a professional ghostwriter and editor, Pamela has first-hand experience in the book trade, from supporting fledgeling writers all the way through to working with the Big Five publishers. She’s an expert on all things writing. In her role as Writer Development & Community Lead at Novlr, you'll find her organising challenges and chatting about writing in Novlr’s Discord and building a repository of amazing writing, editing, publishing, and marketing resources for the Reading Room.

Top photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #writing community #community #writing advice #by nano sponsor #novlr #pamela koehne-drube

[depressopax]

HII could you maybe write something for Berlin like HCs being in a relationship with him, maybe with connections to the new show or sm.

(Im actually so glad I found someone who writes for this fandom bc there’s literally no one nearly 😭)

Berlin - Relationship headcanons

Thank you for the request!! <3 I'm happy to see more LCDP fans here omg 😭 Hope ya like it! :)

Smut version can be found here

Pairing: Berlin/Andrés de Fonollosa x gn!reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP. Cuss words, Berlin being a bit possessive, reader uses they/them pronouns Words: 1145 Summary: Being in a relationship with Berlin would include…  English is not my first language - lmk if there's any spelling mistakes so I can improve my writing! &lt;3

Being in a relationship with this man would be a roller-coaster of emotions…

But you can’t really complain!

People see him as “cold and self-centered”, which is partially true.

BUT when he’s in love, it’s like his whole personality changes.

You are his whole world, and he will do everything to put his ego aside, and show you just how loving he can be.

And boy, he succeeds… 

When he first saw you, it was love at first sight, or at least for him.

He would find out everything about you, what you like to eat, what hobbies you have, and the places you like to be at.

He would just wait for you to approach him first, but it wasn’t that easy…

After a while, he stopped being stubborn and started talking to you.

Berlin would make sure you fall for him, and that would be his biggest goal.

He would take you on extraordinary dates and totally spoil you.

He prefers calm private dates, but wouldn’t mind going to a bar/nightclub if you like that.

Despite his sophisticated looks, he knows how to party. (That one scene in Berlin when he’s at the punk club LMAOO)

Seeing you hyped up makes him happy, so how can he not love partying with you?

The two of you having lazy mornings together. Berlin is a night owl, and getting him out of bed in the morning is a challenge.

He’ll also never let you leave bed. - “Just 5 more minutes, love! - “Are you gonna leave me, all cold and lonely in bed, huh?”

Berlin wouldn’t give up his flirting until you fall in love with him. 

Once that happens - he won’t shut up about you

Like, EVER.

He would drive Sergio and his other friends insane with how much he talks about you, telling them a bit too much about his love life… 

Berlin is the cheesiest guy you’ll ever meet, tbh.

And he takes that as a compliment.

He would write you love letters, send good-morning AND goodnight messages to you, and bring you flowers every now and then. 

Berlin is a man with many talents, and he loves impressing you, especially with his singing

Cheesy as it sounds, he even sings you serenades to express his love and devotion.

You’d have to put up with his weird and impulsive ideas.

Whether it’s planning a spontaneous trip, a heist, etc…

He needs someone to tell him to calm the hell down lol

As seen in the show, Berlin is very passionate and a bit unpredictable.

Being in a relationship is no exception.

Everyday with him is like an adventure, and he knows how to spice things up to not end up like a “boring couple”. 

His goal would be making sure the honeymoon phase never ends. 

He would make sure to tell you how amazing and good-looking you are EVERYDAY. 

He is not afraid to argue with you, but would rather admit he is “wrong” rather than have you be mad at him for too long. 

He’s not always good at reading your emotions and knows what you’re feeling, but tries to. 

It breaks his heart to see you upset, and will try to make you feel better. 

He can be rather possessive too. If someone stares at you for a bit too long, or flirt with you, he’s not afraid to show them that “you are his”.

He’s extra protective of you when you are around his friends. He wants to make sure you feel safe, and also that no one tries hitting on you…

Especially if you are shy, he’d be very close to you, smile at you when you talk and laugh extra loud if you say something funny. 

He makes sure your friends like him. 

He wants to make a good impression on everyone, but especially when it is your friends and family. 

Big fan of PDA. He’s a man that is not afraid to kiss you in public, and he practically never lets go of your hand when you’re outdoors together. 

When cuddling, he prefers being the big spoon. 

One of Berlin’s love languages is touch.

He enjoys having his hand on your thigh, giving your shoulders soft massages, and forehead kisses. He’s the type of guy to kiss your hands, too.

If you have long hair, he tends to fidget with it, running his fingers through it, stroking it away from your face and even braiding it.

Berlin definitely treats you like a god/goddess. 

But the relationship would also be challenging from time to time.

Berlin being a criminal does bother you.

Your fear is for him to get caught and end up in jail.

He’d have to reassure you a lot that he won’t get caught, promising you that he will be fine.

But don’t worry, he makes sure to keep that promise. 

His pet names for you: (My) love, honey, babe… 

His phone is full with pictures of you and you’re definitely both his home- and lock-screen. 

He has lots of money, and spends them on you, whether you like it or not. 

Berlin enjoys luxury and wants to give you a luxurious life.

His dream is to travel and see the world with you by his side.

If you don’t speak Spanish, he would offer to teach it to you. 

He is very overprotective and makes sure you keep a distance from his work. 

But he does enjoy impressing you with dramatic stories about his heists.

During his most difficult and dangerous heists, he will think of you and keep on fighting so he can come back home to you. 

When he’s away for a longer time, Berlin makes sure to text and call you with regular updates. But in all honesty, he just misses your voice.

Like I said earlier, he is an unpredictable man, and if someone is mean to you, yikes… - “Just drop it, Andrés!” “No, babe… I’ll have a ‘chat’ with them…”

Remember the throwback scene of Berlin and the man that made fun of his bow tie? 

Let’s just say, whoever insulted you will return to you and apologize, trembling and crying from pain and fright.  

…Berlin would just return to you with a smug smile, pretending like nothing happened… 

And act all clueless when you confront him about it. 

With you, Berlin is soft and passionate, but others view him as your “scary boyfriend”, a title he accepts with pride. 

To summarize… Despite Berlin's cold exterior, he is the complete opposite with you. He has so much love to give, and isn’t scared to do so. He will make sure to worship you and make sure you feel loved. All he wants is to spend his time with you, and give you the passion, excitement and devotion you deserve. Being together with him is definitely not boring.

I have such hate-love relationship to Berlin bruh 😭 Andrés in Berlin >>>>>>> LCDP

#la casa de papel #fanfiction #fluff #x reader #fanfic writing #fic writing #money heist #scenarios #lcdp berlin #berlin netflix #berlin money heist #berlin lcdp #berlin #andres de fonollosa #berlin andres #andrés de fonollosa #money heist imagine #pedro alonso #fanfic readers #gn reader #reader insert #x gn y/n #gn!reader #headcanon #relationship headcanons #lcdp #fanfic #fanfic authors #fan fiction #fanfiction writer

[hyuckmov]

You know.... when rockstar haechan 3 drops, ill be taking the day off from work and rereading all of it at once just to feel everything again the lust, the hurt and all the roller coaster emotions that comes with it. Ive been reading through the tags rn and gosh i cant wait, im so so excited to be hurt! I dont know how you just posted that stuff for all of us to read for FREE, its amazingg for realll!!! I love reading angst so much and this is the most hurt ive been by a fic. Like EVER.

Take ur time finishing part three, we know that the wait will be all worth it. And if u do make a taglist please add me so ill be notified when it drops 💕

And if u mayyyy, maybe u can share another snippet? Hehe love lots

omg 😭 it means so so so much to me that you feel these emotions so deeply from my writingsfnbjsnfgb i'm really happy you like it and i hope the 3rd part hits the way you want it to!!!

thank you so so much for supporting my works it really means so much to me that you trust me as a writer <3 ive been swamped with work again but still making time to write slowly - i think i basically have the plot i just need to write the actual scenes :) i'll clean up my taglist soon and i'll definitely tag u on it!

new snippet!!! honestly im so bad at picking these snippets because i just wna share major plot points w u guys but at this point i don't think it matters....more gut-wrenching nervous out-of-his-depth haechie

#emvrd #thank u so much for sending this in <3 it is so comforting and encouraging ily #asks #fic: rockstar haechan