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grailfinders · 3 years

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Fate and Phantasms #175

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re entering the Dead Heat Summer Race! That’s right, we’re finally doing some Summer servants... in the Summer! We’re still a year off, but at least they’ve got the spirit!

As an added challenge, I’ll make sure all the teams get their own car! Fran & Maid Alter get a pass since they’re teamed up with people that already have cars (Babbage & Nero, respectively), but the others will all have their own vehicles to ride!

Anyways, today we’re building Nero Claudius... again. I promise this is... probably(?) the last time. She’s a Creation Bard to build up her golden theater on the sea as well as a sick car. She’s also a Draconic Soul Sorcerer to grab those giant guns she’s got on her back.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Team Electric Steam feat. Papa!

Race and Background

Nero is still a Human Noble. This gives her +1 to any two stats, and her Constitution and Charisma will need rounding up in a second, so go with those. She also gets proficiency with History, Persuasion, and Performance, plus the Lucky feat to re-roll her attacks, saves, and checks plus incoming attacks three times per long rest. You might be in a bikini, but you’re still the emperor. You get what you want, and what you want is just about everything.

Ability Scores

Surprising no one, your Charisma is your highest stat. The race was basically a popularity contest, and you won almost every leg of it. Second is Dexterity- you’re fighting in either a dress or a swimsuit, but in either case it’s definitely not armor. Your Constitution is next, races take a while and there’s no time to stop for snacks, so you’ll have to toughen up a bit. After that is Intelligence. You’re flighty, not dumb. Your Strength isn’t amazing, you don’t really need big muscles to look good, but we’re dumping Wisdom. It wouldn’t be high at the best of times, and the caster class suits you to a dangerous degree.

Class Levels

1. Sorcerer 1: Starting off as a sorcerer may get you less health and fewer proficiencies, but you still get Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. You’re a caster now, it’s time to act like one.

The big reason we’re starting here right away is for the goody you get from being a Draconic Bloodline sorcerer, Draconic Resilience. Thanks to your great-great-great-great-great-grandparent Dragon Ancestor being a red dragon, you get an extra 1 hp for each level of this class, as well as a doubled proficiency bonus on charisma checks involving dragons.

You also get an unarmored defense of 13 + your dexterity modifier. Now you can wear a swimsuit anywhere you like without issues. I’d still recommend you don’t meet the king dressed like that, but you’re a noble, I’m sure he’s already expecting a bit of eccentricity.

You can also cast Spells using your Charisma, grab Light and Minor Illusion to put on a good show, Sword Burst so you can actually use a sword (we’ll get better options later), and Magic Missile and Create Bonfire for some quick shots from your cannons. You also get Absorb Elements, because this and Blade Ward are the easiest to get “weakness nullifying” spells, and this one’s actually good.

2. Bard 1: Bouncing over to bard real quick gives you another set of Spells that also use Charisma. You also get Bardic Inspiration, d6s you can hand out as a bonus action to allies. While they have one, they can add it to an attack, save, or check they have to make. You have Charisma Modifier inspiration dice to give out per long rest.

You do whatever you want, and while Prestidigitation isn’t quite that open-ended, it’s still pretty good for a single spell. You also get Friends, Command and Charm Person to be your usual charming self. Grab Cure Wounds for just a touch of healing, and Feather Fall. You’ve got giant metal wings, they should be good for something, right?

You get proficiency with Animal Handling as well.

3. Bard 2: Second level bards are Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency bonus to all ability checks. You can also perform a Song of Rest on short rests, adding 1d6 to healing done. Your dulcet tones inspire everyone around you! (Usually to put as much distance between themselves and you as possible, but hush)

Your inspiration also turns into Magical Inspiration- creatures can use your inspiration to add to their spell’s damage or healing potential.

Finally, you get the spell Unearthly Chorus, which doesn’t have any damage or healing potential! It just makes you even better at charisma checks. It’s also very flavorful for someone about to open a theater.

4. Bard 3: Third level bards graduate from their college, and the College of Creation will one day allow you to afford a car! For now, you only have a Note of Potential, adding extra effects to your inspiration depending on how they’re used. Adding one to an ability check gives the user advantage on the die roll. Adding it to an attack roll deals thunder damage to the target and each creature next to it that fails a constitution save. Adding it to a saving throw adds temporary hp to the user equal to the roll plus your charisma modifier.

You know how I just said you only have the note? We lied. You can also make a Performance of Creation once per long rest or by spending a second level spell slot. You can create any nonmagical item, as long as it is worth less than 20 times your bard level in GP, and medium or smaller. Neither of those restrictions will help you make a car, but they’ll improve as you level up.

Finally, you get Expertise in Animal Handling and Arcana, doubling your proficiency bonus in both skills.

For your spell, Enhance Ability makes it easier to do whatever you set your mind to, giving advantage on one kind of ability check for the duration.

5. Bard 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Charisma for stronger spells and more inspiration.

You also learn the Dancing Lights cantrip so you can put on even better shows, and Pyrotechnics for pretty much the same reason. You need an existing source of fire to set it off, but you can always combo it with Create Bonfire in a pinch.

6. Bard 5: Fifth level bards are a Font of Inspiration, recharging your inspiration on short rests instead of long ones. Also, your inspiration grows to d8s.

You can also make a Motivational Speech with a third level spell slot, giving your party temporary HP, advantage on wisdom saves, and advantage on its next attack if it gets hit by an attack.

7. Bard 6: Countercharm is okay, spend an action to give advantage to your party on charm and frightening saves, but we’re really here for your subclass specialties. Your Performance of Creation can make Large objects now, and you can spend an action to make an Animating Performance, turning a large or smaller (gee, that worked out nicely) object into a Dancing Item for up to an hour. It’ll only dodge on its turn unless you use your bonus action to command the thing, but you can inspire people and command it in the same action. You can make a dancing item once per long rest, or by using third level spell slots. Also, you can only have one at a time. I’m pretty sure a functional car in a medieval setting is worth more than 120 gold though, so we’ll work on it some more later.

For your spell, I’d suggest Suggestion, it’s very useful for making the world revolve around you.

8. Sorcerer 2: Second level sorcerers become a Font of Magic (you are just becoming a font for all sorts of crap, huh?), giving you sorcery points equal to your sorcerer level. You can turn spell slots into points, or points into slots, or even cooler stuff next level!

For now, the big new thing is you can cast Shield. Those giant metal wings make it harder to hit you than you’d think.

9. Sorcerer 3: Third level sorcerers get that cooler thing I was just talking about, Metamagic! When you get it now, you get two metamagic options that can alter how your spells work; Heightened spells force disadvantage against their save on one creature they effect, and Twinned spells target two creatures instead of only one (Note: twinned spells only work on spells that target a single creature.)

You also get Scorching Ray, giving you a macross missile massacre of fire out of those organcannons you’re hauling around with you.

10. Bard 7: We’re stopping back in bard real quick to grab your fourth level spell, Hallucinatory Terrain. Somehow you always bring the waterfront with you when you use your NP, and now you really can do that!

11. Sorcerer 4: Use this ASI to max out your Charisma for the best spells possible. Speaking of the best spells possible, you can cast True Strike now for advantage on an attack next turn! You can also cast Shadow Blade so you have a sword you can attack with. A cool, spooky sword that deals psychic damage and has advantage against targets in the dark. Yes, it took us half the build to get a sword, that’s what happens when you’re a cavalry class.

12. Sorcerer 5: Fifth level sorcerers are even better at skill checks now thanks to their Magical Guidance, using your sorcery points to reroll failed checks for, essentially, permanent advantage on whatever you do.

You can also cast Water Walk. Eventually your NP will involve actual water, so you’ll want to be prepared for that. Forcing your whole party to do the doggy paddle every time you want to cut loose isn’t a great look, be a team player here.

13. Sorcerer 6: Our last stop on the sorcerer train is sixth level, giving you an Elemental Affinity for fire. All your fire damage spells get your charisma added to their damage, and you can spend a sorcery point after casting one of them to gain resistance to fire damage for an hour. Always remember to apply sunscreen throughout the day. Now more than ever, that shit gets hot.

To take advantage of this new affinity, you can cast Melf’s Minute Meteors, launching chunks of those cannons off and firing a couple per turn at your enemies, dealing fire damage in a small area around their destination. Creatures have to make a dexterity save, and if they succeed they take half damage. Like scorching ray, these are multiple instances of fire damage, so add your charisma to each one.

14. Bard 8: Back in bard for good now! Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity so you can start being good with a sword. Just in case that’s still not enough, you can cast Charm Monster now too. You have enough gravitas to bend the authors to your will, I’m sure you can handle a manticore or two.

15. Bard 9: Your Song of Rest grows to 1d8 now, but more importantly you get fifth level spells! Animate Objects is another way to build your car (we’re still 5 levels away from performance of creation building it) or to get your cannon bits into position.

16. Bard 10: Tenth level bards get another cantrip! Honestly, we probably should’ve gotten Mending earlier. Adventuring in an outfit where a single snapped string can completely remove your top isn’t a great idea. You also get Magical Secrets, giving you two spells from any spell list. Flame Blade gives you a more thematically appropriate weapon, and Fireball is a big boom you can fire off.

On top of that, you get another round of Expertise, doubling your proficiency in Performance and Persuasion.

You also get a bigger inspiration, letting you hand out d10s.

17. Bard 11: Eleventh level bards get sixth level spells, like Mass Suggestion. It’s like Suggestion, but for the masses.

18. Bard 12: Use this last ASI to bump up your Dexterity again for a higher AC and better swordplay.

19. Bard 13: Your song of rest increases to a d10 as well, and you get the seventh level spell of champions, Mirage Arcane! If you make an illusion you can really feel, is it still an illusion? Anyways, you can make your golden theater now and the ocean surrounding it, and it all lasts for 10 days!

20. Bard 14: Your capstone level of bard lets you hit a Creative Crescendo, creating up to five items at once when you use your Performance of Creation. One of those objects can be Huge, the rest all have to be Small or smaller. You also don’t have to worry about cost when making objects, so that car is finally within reach!

You also get Magical Secrets again for two more spells. Prismatic Spray gives your golden theater some big ass cannons, creating a 60′ cone of light that deals different kinds of damage and effects. You also get Tenser’s Transformation, turning you from a full caster class into a proper fighter once more. You get temporary HP, permanent advantage on weapon attacks, you deal extra force damage, gain proficiency with all weapons as well as strength and constitution saves, and you can attack twice per action. The downsides are you can’t cast spells and after it ends you have to make a constitution save afterwards to prevent exhaustion, but I think it’s appropriate that we finally gave Nero those migraines she’s always complaining about.

Pros:

As usual, nero’s build is pretty adaptable, with a little bit of everything to help out any dedicated role in the party. She has healing, dps spells, utility, social graces, pretty much all skill checks, and also literally the ability to make whatever item she might need in a given situation.

Tenser’s Transformation is meant to turn wizards into melee fighters, and you’re (more or less) a bard. With almost 200 HP thanks to this spell and the ability to make your own armory, you can turn yourself into a terrifying war god practically at will.

Elemental Affinity can be really scary if you game the system right. Max out a casting of scorching ray to deal 20d6+50 damage to a single target. That’s better than a 9th level fireball. It also gives resistance to one of the most common damage types!

Cons:

Fire is one of the most common damage types, so it’s also one of the most common resistances. You have other stuff to fall back on, but it’ll put a crimp in your style if you go up against fire elementals. Or water elementals. Or fiends. Or- you get the picture.

We don’t improve on physical stats until level 14, which means you’ll be stuck with an AC of 15 for a majority of the game, and your sword skills won’t be that useful until very late in the campaign.

The big moment where the build really comes together as Nero is around level 19-20, meaning most players will never actually reach that point. Sorry guys, Nero is a luxury few can afford.

#fate grand order #FGO #D&D 5e #DND #Nero Claudius (Caster)#Sorcerer #Bard

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lightneverfades · 3 years

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What if instead of Sylvie, Loki falls in love with a variant called Lok that looks exactly like him throughout the series, but experiences the same loneliness and devastation of being ‘the dangerous variant’?

When they get to He Who Remains’s fortress, they fight. And what occurs after is all the more... chaotic.

Fic

“Trust me... you don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, I think I do. Can’t you see the TVA has hurt us, hurt you? He’s taken everything from us. And now you want to simply abandon the mission?” Lok speaks and the Loki can see the clear hurt in his eyes. His grip on the sword tightens.

“I know they did. But what if by killing him we risk unleashing something even worse? The balance of the universe is at stake.”

Lok sneers at him, “And when was the balance of the universe ever your problem?”

Anger flared in Loki and fought against the calm he was trying to maintain throughout this conversation. “When you became a part of it.”

“Sentimentality,” Lok spat, “You think you can flatter me? The only thing that should matter is the mission.”

“All I’m suggesting is that we take a minute to think about it.”

Emerald green eyes, a direct contrast to Loki’s crystalline blue, looked at him incredulously. The curves of Lok’s lips curled downward into a frown.

“What was I thinking, trusting you?”

“You can trust me,” Loki whispers, but he could see every ounce of reason in Lok’s face was gone. The act was swift and he had only mere seconds to dodge Lok’s sword before he was making his own move, swinging the sword his younger self had given him for this mission. The mission.

They’d been so adamant on finding out the truth behind Alioth, behind the TVA and who had wronged them. But how could Loki have known that the man behind the veil would not only be the one who orchestrated this whole mess but had also been the one who maintained some resemblance of order?

And Lok... Loki had met him only a few days ago, and yet he felt an infinite connection with the variant like nothing he’d ever felt before. The first time he felt it, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Lok was ridiculously stubborn, angry and unpredictable, like himself. But he was also sensitive and kind when he wanted to be. Loki saw it first hand when he’d been injured in the blast after their failed attempt to board the Ark. The rubble had fallen over him and it was Lok who had gripped his shoulder and pulled him out of it.

“Stay still, I can’t heal you if you won’t stop squirming,” Lok snarled, which Loki noticed he did a lot.

“I am trying!” Loki protests, as he lets the variant heal the deep cut that had pierced through his stomach. Fortunately it had missed his vital organs, but it still hurt like Hel. And Lok’s magic, whatever it was, was not working fast enough. The green light that poured into his wound knit through the damage.

“You’re not. I can take more pain then you’re enduring under my touch,” Lok spoke, and Loki looks up to meet the variant’s eyes. Apart from the different eye color, Lok was like looking straight into a mirror. Same facial features, expressions, the way Lok furrowed his eyebrows also made Loki wonder if that was how he looked when he was concentrating intently on something. Or the way his lips tightened.

With a final hiss, the wound sealed itself and Loki felt the pressure Lok was applying on his stomach disappear, as well as the hand that had been touching his neck. He felt its loss, the warmth of it, and he felt a little unsteady. It was probably the blood loss, and the fact that they were going to die anyway.

“I don’t know why you insisted on healing me when we’re going to die,” Loki spoke softly, looking up at the sky. They’d dragged, or rather Lok had pulled Loki, out of the city and into an abandoned pond area. Remnants of the meteors from the dying planet about to impact against Lamentis flew straight down, burning around them.

“I...” Lok doesn’t finish his sentence, but Loki can see something in his eyes that makes him understand. You didn’t want to die alone, Loki thought, realizing that he didn’t want to die on his own as well.

In spite of the imminent death that hovered over them, Loki found himself feeling safer and calmer then he felt in a while. If this was the end, then at least I went down fighting...

Loki sees Lok shudder, and Loki gently takes Lok’s hand. The look of surprise in the variant’s face almost makes him laugh, but his smile had already reached his eyes. “I know.”

“We never survive...” Lok speaks, and the defense mechanism, the usual growl or retort at the end of his usual conversation slips. And that’s when Loki sees him, really sees Lok for the first time. The fear, the regret, the pain, the aching sadness of a life unfulfilled. Lok’s entire life from the day he was on the run was riddled with bitterness and disappointment. All of that was absorbed and reflected in his viridescent eyes. “We’re destined to lose.”

“We may lose,” Loki says and he takes Lok’s hand in his, weaving his to the other man’s. That same buzz of energy and warmth he’d felt was back, thrumming through his hand. “But we never die. There’ll always be a Loki. Always.”

Lok tightens the fingers interlocking with his, and Loki feels what he could only imagine was an earthquake shake his entire core. It could have easily been the ground starting to shudder beneath him, but he felt something inside of him blossom in him that was unfamiliar. Warm. Comforting.

And Lok. Loki saw the faintest of smiles finally grace those lips that had been so used to frowning with disappointment.

I wish I’d met you sooner, Loki thought, and that was his only regret as the world roared around them, smoke flourishing from all sides as the meteor hit the planet’s surface...

They would have died that day, if Mobius hadn’t found the strange Nexus Event occurring on screen. “The Nexus Event the two of you caused... how did you do it?” Those had been Mobius’s words as the TVA agents strapped the Time Collars on their necks and pulled them away from each other.

That had been then. And this was now.

“You said you wouldn’t betray me!” Lok screams as he swings his sword with quick precision, the tip scratching Loki’s arm. It was a knick, a warning, Loki knew it.

“I’m not!” Loki shouted and swung to the other side as Lok pulled a chair with his magic and shot it back in his direction, green sparks flying around him.

A frustrated snarl escapes Lok’s lips as Loki appears before Loki and grabs him, locking them together in a tight and forced tangle of arms, each of them holding the edge of their blades right on their necks.

“You’re a liar! You only ever wanted the throne. You pretended to care, but what can you hope to gain from befriending me? Nothing! I’m nothing to you!”

“No, Lok, that’s not true-”

“Then you’d have joined me and we’d have taken him down before he even spoke a word! But you chose your side, Loki. And it’s not with me.”

“Maybe he’s lying!” Loki says, “But maybe he’s not!”

“I. don’t. have. time. for. this!” Lok hisses, pushing forward and Loki grits his teeth, the edge scraping his neck.

“We won’t have time for anything, not if he’s right!”

Lok’s eyes burn him, the ice cold anger that lights up within them causes Loki to flinch. He’s knocked back with a kick to the abdomen and it knocks the breath out of Loki. It’s enough for Lok to run straight in the direction of He Who Remains.

The world seems to slow down as Loki conjured his seidr to appear right at the very moment when Lok crashes into him, his blade slicing through his chest. A pained cry escapes Loki. The sword slips from Loki’s fingers, clattering to the ground.

“Stop...”

Loki meant to reach out slowly to Lok, but his attempt fails as he collapses forward, slumping as the sword still embedded into his chest digs deeper. He lets out an agonized cry, and he sees the anger in Lok’s eyes slip away, quickly turning to regret.

“Loki, oh Hel, what have I done,” Lok whispers as he pulls the sword out of Loki. Loki leans forward, losing his step and he feels Lok grab him. He’s kneeling on the marble floor beside Lok, who’d knelt beside him, holding him upright, his hand already reaching out to heal the damage he’d caused.

“Why are you always in my way...” Loki hears it, very subtly, being spoken under Lok’s breath and he lets out a weak laugh.

“Because you are my way.”

Loki doesn’t think, only acts, as he leans closer and this time, he’s not just doing it because his body feels heavier or colder and was drawn to Lok for the warmth. His lips crushed into Lok’s because he needed it. He wanted Lok, desperately. He’d felt the connection in Lamentis when they were about to die. And he had felt it ever since he knew that they were one and the same. In spite of what fate had in store for them, the universe had brought them together. My Lok, always my way, my path, my alternate future.

Lok let out a shocked breath, and Loki thought he might almost break away, but the relief is paramount when Lok’s other hand finds its way up his neck and brushes through his tangled hair. Lips part and they are well matched in their desperation and desire for connection, the pull and taste of each other irresistible. If it weren’t for the agonizing thrum of pain in his chest, Loki would never have parted.

But he does, and when Loki meets Lok’s gaze, his eyebrows furrow in confusion when Lok looks at him with an expression that puzzles him.

“Loki... your eyes...”

Loki feels a tingling sensation around his temples, and it spreads. He feels the heat, mingling among the pain.

“The universe is breaking apart, kids. Time to make up your minds. Or it’ll make it for you,” He Who Remains speaks from the background. “See? It’s choosing Loki.”

“What are you doing to him!” Lok snarls, and He Who Remains sighs.

“The branches, see, they’re alive. Just like you and me. And they want to be stable. They want a new person that can continue my life’s work. Free will is a lie. It always has been.”

“Lok, no,” Loki tries to grab Lok, but his body was weak. Even as he tried to tug at Lok’s leather bound arm, he knew his hold will not last. The euphoria he had felt moments ago is replaced with dread. Had he done the right thing? What was He Who Remains talking about? Was he being chosen to take over already, even if it meant he was an unwilling participant in this grand scheme of things? Maybe that was why he’d survived...

“I am not letting you become the thing I’ve been training my whole life to destroy!” Lok says and he pulls free from Loki.

This time the sword does not miss its aim, sinking deep into He Who Remains. The man slumps into his chair, but not before whispering the words that caused Loki to shiver. “Got you.”

#ummm yeah so i just wanted to do some tom/tom loki of the kiss so i made this manip #dont kill me #lol #what if loki series #and now i have a fic #I decided to call the other loki Lok haha #not confusing at all hahah #anyways #i figured I'd try something haha #my graphics #my fic

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madsthewordclown · 3 years

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Fire Lily | Pt. 13

warnings: some angst?

summary: y/n is surprised to run into a person from her past.

a/n: AGH I’m so so sorry this chapter took so much time and isn’t very long :/ I really struggled with motivation and inspiration this past week with my classes picking up again. But! I am back! This chapter takes place during “Sokka’s Master.” Hope you guys enjoy!

reminder: my taglist is OPEN! send me a message or ask to be added :)

Fire Lily Masterlist

Y/N had barely managed to fall asleep when she felt someone jostle her shoulder.

“Y/N, get up,” Katara said gently. Y/N groaned, rolling over uncomfortable on the lumpy ground.

“Y/N,” Katara repeated. “You need to see this.”

Y/N yawned, slowly coming to sit up, blinking slowly. She absentmindedly lit a fire in her palm to illuminate the space.

“No, we don’t need fire. Come on.”

Y/N reluctantly stood, letting the fire in her hands flicker out. Katara led Y/N out of the tree-covered area they had camped into a clearing on a hill, where Sokka, Aang, and Toph were waiting.

“What exactly am I looking at?” Y/N mumbled. What time was it? Two in the morning?

“Just look up,” Katara giggled. Y/N obeyed and raised her head to see the bright streaks painting the sky.

“Oh,” Y/N breathed, watching the spots of light soar across her vision. Y/N felt the tension leave her shoulders as she watched the sky. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, reaching his arms out to invite them all to throw their arms around each other. Y/N moved closer and felt Katara’s arm settle across her shoulders, but she never took her eyes away from the sky.

Y/N had never seen a meteor shower before. It was better than she had imagined—the stars were so bright here, not like Ba Sing Se. The night sky went on forever, meteors leaving trails of brightness across the comforting deep blanket of darkness the sky provided.

Tiny stars blinked down at her, and Y/N felt the warmth growing in her stomach. It made her think of the tea shop, if only for a moment.

Something about staring up at the sky made her feel small, but it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling. There were so many small people in the world, and even though she was traveling with the Avatar, even though she was on the run, and even though her life had been upended, she could be one of those small people, if only for a moment.

“Um, guys,” Sokka pointed up at the sky. “That one looks a bit close.”

“Oh, really? Which one?” Toph panned sarcastically. Y/N suddenly remembered that Toph couldn’t see the meteor shower. The girl was sitting on the ground with her arms crossed a few feet away. “You’ve seen nothing once, you’ve seen it a million times.”

“You’ve never not seen anything like this,” Sokka said. The ground seemed to shake for a moment, and Y/N watched as the meteor dipped out of view behind some trees. The ground seemed to shake, a loud crash echoing.

“Oh,” Toph started, standing. “You’re right, Sokka.”

Y/N followed the others through the trees, seeing the meteor, a ball of flame that was already beginning to catch the surrounding grass.

“The fire is going to destroy that town!” Katara shouted. Y/N could see the rooftops in the distance. Katara was right, and before Y/N could come up with any sort of response, they were rushing into action.

Katara was already heading to a nearby creek, bending the water towards the flames while Aang and Toph lifted large chunks of earth from the ground.

“What can I do?” Sokka asked. Y/N could tell how much he wanted to be helpful.

“Umm…” Aang replied, continuing to create a trench, “watch Momo?”

Sokka turned to Y/N. “Aren’t you going to help?”

“I barely know how to make fire, Sokka,” Y/N replied, sighing as they watched their friends go to work. “I haven’t figured out how to stop it. Plus,” Y/N smiled, “this is space fire.”

“Pretty sure it’s just regular fire,” Sokka grumbled, but Y/N saw the corners of his mouth upturn slightly. It was better than nothing.

---

Sokka was a shopaholic, Y/N decided. He’d been in a sour mood since the night before, when he was left to babysit Momo. But Katara had offered to let him look around in a weaponry store, and suddenly he was acting like a giddy little kid.

Y/N wandered around on her own in the shop. She could hear Sokka’s giggles from across the store. She looked around at the distinctly Fire Nation items—swords with red accents in the hilt, armor pieces made of dark, gleaming metal. It was much different from the craftsmanship of Jet’s swords. These were made with aesthetic in mind, with the time to add the red embellishments and tassels and inscriptions.

Jet’s swords were finely made, but they weren’t things to marvel at. They were made to work, work well, and nothing more. The blades were getting dull—she’d have to figure out how to sharpen them later. Y/N ran a finger along the inscription of a dagger on the wall—Honor and country—and started when someone coughed behind her.

Y/N whipped around, hands poised on the swords at her waist. Behind her stood a boy, with dark hair and a little bit of stubble on his jaw. He looked oddly familiar, and then the realization hit.

“Jain!” Y/N cried. She didn’t move her hands from her swords. He was dressed in a dark red tunic and black pants, his hair in a bun on top of his head.

“So, it is you.” Jain gave Y/N a once-over, his dark eyes taking in the blades and the Fire Nation clothes. “I wondered where you went off to.”

“What are you doing here, Jain?” Y/N couldn’t decide whether or not to be angry. She wasn’t sure if Jain was an enemy or not.

“Just visiting my homeland,” Jain drawled, as if it was obvious. Y/N supposed it was. Jain glanced around, assuring no one was near.

“Look,” he sighed, “I can’t here, but if you want to talk, I can meet you later.”

“What?” Y/N gaped. She still couldn’t process the fact that Jain was here. In front of her. Right now. More handsome than she remembered, though she’d never admit it. He wasn’t a string bean anymore.

“I can catch you up on what’s happening back home,” Jain offered. “I can take a message back for you, if you want.”

“Okay.” Y/N didn’t hesitate to answer. Jain would know about her parents. Maybe Bihun was back. Y/N hadn’t heard anything about her colony since she had left.

“I can meet you in the marketplace this afternoon,” Jain said, already turning away. Y/N diverted her eyes back to the dagger in front of her. Honor and country.

“Alright,” Y/N agreed, listening to Jain’s footsteps fade.

---

“You what?!” Katara cried. “Y/N, we can’t trust Fire Nation.”

“Why are you just telling us now?” Aang added in agreement.

“I knew Sokka wouldn’t like it,” Y/N admitted. She had been relieved when she learned that Sokka would be away to train under a master, and not just because she was happy for him. He wouldn’t have let her go meet with Jain. Or worse; he’d insist on coming along.

“Well, we don’t like it either,” Toph piped in. “Why do you need to go talk to this guy anyway?”

“He was a friend of my brother’s,” Y/N explained. She could remember Jain from Bihun’s first years at school. He was one of the few friends that Y/N’s parents allowed to visit the house. “He lives in the colony. He can tell me what’s happening at my home.”

“I don’t know…” Katara trailed off, her eyes sharp.

“He can tell me about my parents, Katara,” Y/N pleaded. “I… I don’t know what happened to them after I left.”

Katara thought for a moment, but Aang spoke for her.

“Okay,” he said. “If it’s important to you, it’s important to us. But if you aren’t back by sundown, we’ll come to look for you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Y/N surged forward, pulling Aang into a hug. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“I still don’t like it,” Katara said, and Toph nodded, “but we’re here for you. Be safe.”

“I will,” Y/N promised. She didn’t think Jain would hurt her, but the words kept ringing through her head. Honor and country. Would they outweigh his care for her? She thought of Zuko.

Y/N tried to remember that she had no reason to hide while she walked through the marketplace, keeping an eye out for Jain. He was taller than she remembered, and definitely looked older. She wondered if that was how old Bihun would look, if he were here.

She spotted Jain by a food stand and did her best to approach casually. Jain turned around and faced her, two bags of fire flakes in his hands.

“Why are you walking like that?” Jain gave her an odd look, an eyebrow raised. Y/N immediately straightened her posture, her cheeks warming. So much for being casual.

“Come on,” Jain beckoned after a moment, leading Y/N around a street corner. He handed her one of the bags of fire flakes, using his now free hand to fumble with the doorknob on the nearest home.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “I hope you’re not breaking in.”

“No, I—” Jain jimmied the handle some more, and it finally turned, the door opening. “There we go.”

Y/N followed Jain inside, her nerves building. It was a nice enough place. Small. Flammable, if it came down to that. Y/N hoped it wouldn’t.

“Whose house is this?” Y/N asked, looking around at the many potted plants that filled the room.

“My aunt’s,” Jain replied, stuffing a handful of fire flakes in his mouth. He noticed Y/N looking at the greenery. “I know, she has a ton of plants. She’s a little crazy.”

“I think they’re nice,” Y/N frowned, gently touching the leaf of a small, white-flowering plant by the window. She still hadn’t taken a bite from her fire flakes. “Why did you buy me these?”

“Hospitality,” Jain answered simply, like it wasn’t weird. Y/N was fairly sure it was weird. They were in the Fire Nation, and the Fire Nation would be anything but hospitable if they knew she were here, with the Avatar, no less. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had them.”

“I have,” Y/N scoffed. She took small handful of flakes and popped them into her mouth. Damn, they were spicy. She tried to stifle her reaction, taking a seat across from him at the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Like I said, visiting the homeland.” Jain took a seat at the small wooden table in the center of the room. “My aunt is gone to the capital for a few weeks, so she said I should come here to ‘experience the true national culture.’” Jain made air quotes with his hands. “I think she just wanted a plant sitter.”

Y/N nodded, looking down at her hands that were still wrapped around the back of fire flakes.

“What are you, doing here, Y/N? I thought…”

Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he had thought. He probably thought she was dead or imprisoned like her brother.

“I went to Ba Sing Se,” Y/N explained. “And I met friends. We’re traveling together.”

It wasn’t a total lie. Really, it wasn’t a lie at all, Y/N rationalized. Just an omission of some details. Jain had a look on his face that said he knew that wasn’t the whole story.

“Do…” Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to continue. “Does everyone know? About me?”

“You nearly burned down your parents’ house and singed the eyebrows off of two soldiers, Y/N.” Jain chomped down another handful of fire flakes.

“Oh.” Yes, she had done that. Of course everyone knew.

“Not much has changed since you left,” Jain reassured. “Well, it did at first. A lot of soldiers came through at first, looking for you. The village is doing well enough.”

“What about my parents?”

Jain’s expression darkened. “The Fire Nation believes that your parents committed a crime by hiding you from them. Your… father is looking for you.” Jain shimmied uncomfortably at the word ‘father,’ and Y/N felt her stomach churn.

“Are they okay?” They had to be okay. That was the whole point of her leaving. If they weren’t okay… it was all for nothing.

“Yeah, for now. There are soldiers stationed at your house, in case you try to return. But your parents are safe. Your father was too close to the Earth King before Ba Sing Se fell, and he’s still got powerful allies in the smaller cities that are left. They won’t touch them until they know where you are. Some people are dead set on finding you, Y/N.”

“And you aren’t going to turn me in?”

“Of course not, Y/N.” Jain’s expression seemed hurt. “Bihun is my best friend, and he’d want me to help you. And you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Y/N wanted to correct him. I’m helping the Avatar to defeat your nation. We’re planning to invade your capital as we speak. She tried to hold back the question at the tip of her tongue. “Have you heard anything about my brother?”

Jain frowned and shook his head. “I’ve actually managed to do some asking around, but I haven’t found anything. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N stared at the table as her eyes stung.

“I miss him, too.” Jain put his hand out, resting it on the table in front of her. “He’d be happy for you, you know. That you made it out of that house. I know you’ve struggled,” Jain eyed the scars on her hands from her months of traveling and fighting that hadn’t been there before, “but he’d be happy. And I’m not going to stop trying to find him.”

“Neither will I.” A warm tear traveled its way down Y/N’s face. “Will you check in on my parents for me, when you can?”

“Yes, anything,” Jain offered a smile. “I can bring back a message for them?”

Y/N shook her head. “I think it’s best they don’t hear from me until it’s all over.”

Jain nodded understandingly. “Y/N, I want you to know that my allegiance is to my family first. Bihun is like a brother to me, so you’re my family too. If you ever need anything, you can ask.”

“Thank you, Jain.” Y/N glanced out the window, the sun beginning to dip in the sky. “I should go.”

“Alright,” Jain said, standing. Y/N stood with him, leaving her fire flakes on the table. She’d pass on those. Before she could convince herself not to, Y/N pulled Jain in for a hug, letting out a shaky breath when he wrapped his arms around her. “Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Jain whispered softly.

“I will,” Y/N promised again. “You too.”

---

“How did it go?” Katara asked as soon as Y/N came into view of their camp outside of town.

“Good.” She noticed Sokka pouting on the ground. “How was Sokka’s training?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this!” Sokka cried indignantly. “It’s not safe to be talking to the Fire Nation!”

“She’s obviously fine,” Toph groaned. “And no one followed her here. And we all look like Fire Nation anyway!”

“Hmph,” Sokka grumbled.

“What did he tell you?” Aang asked curiously. Y/N recounted what Jain had told her, about her parents. About her father. When she was done, Katara smiled.

“I’m glad you went to talk to him, Y/N. It’s great that your parents are safe.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed. “And after we defeat the Fire Lord, you’ll be able to go back home. I promise.”

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy, @good-ones-are-taken

#atla fanfic #eventual zuko x reader #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #atla #avatar: tla #avatar fanfic #atla x reader #Katara being the mom friend #sokka is sokka

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fangirl-creates · 3 years

Text

2 Weeks - An MvA One Shot

(Wrote this back in October but I figured I’d post it since I don’t have any problems with it—Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)

She thought the whole thing had been just a bad dream, but when she woke up back in that cold dark cell, she realized it was still reality. She couldn’t understand how all of this had happened so fast—one minute she was about to get married to the love of her life, the next minute she was growing 50 feet tall, tranquilized, and sent to a Government Facility without her consent. But that wasn’t the worst part...there were monsters here. And she was considered one of them. There was no way she would be put in the same category as those...things. She wouldn’t stand for it.

About 2 more hours past and the front wall of her cell opened up, making her eyes squint to the bright fluorescent lights. A booming voice came from outside—“Rise and Shine, little lady! Time for you to go socialize with your prison mates!”

Susan recognized that voice all too well; The General. She stood up and finally saw him more clearly, a pleading look in her eyes. “Do I have to..?”

Monger let out a sigh. “If you’re gonna stay here, you should at least get to know your fellow monsters. Might be good for you all...”

“But I’m not a M—”

Monger put a hand up. “I don’t want to hear it. Now let’s get a move on..”

****

Susan was brought back into that same room, the one with the ‘open space’ and bright lights on the ceiling. The Monsters weren’t there, thankfully, so she had some time to relax. But when they eventually did show up, she wouldn’t have that feeling anymore. She slowly walked over to her table—the one that had been modified so it was the same size as her. She sat at the chair, closing her eyes as she took a moment to breathe.

The sound of a metal door opening made her flinch, but she kept her eyes closed regardless. She heard footsteps on the ground—their footsteps. She heard their voices, which ironically was the only thing ‘human’ about them.

“Ah there she is,” The Cockroach was heard, his British voice was still polite as ever, but that didn’t mean she didn’t mind his gross cockroach head and bulging bug eyes.

“Is she trying to mediate or something?” The fish man was next. He was the one she didn’t like that much. His tone wasn’t very...nice.

“Maybe she’s sleeping!” Next was the blob. He didn’t seem to know what was going on. Or maybe he did? She didn’t want to ask.

“Well, we should give her some space. This is her second day after all.” The Cockroach told them.

Susan quietly sighed with relief. She wanted them to stay away from her...or her fear would kick in again.

She heard them move to the table that was a few feet away from her rather large one. They were playing cards, their voices slowly faded into muffled whispers as she zoned out.

After a while, Susan fell asleep, one of her arms supporting her head while the other dangled from the table. B.O.B watched with curiosity as he slowly made his way up one of the table legs.

“I wouldn’t do that, buddy.” Link whispered.

“I just wanna say hello!” B.O.B replied as he got up to the top. He and Susan were only a few feet apart now. He slowly made his way to her face and gently tapped her cheek. “Helloooo?”

Susan stirred, fatigue quickly kicking in as she slowly opened her eyes. When she saw who was in front of her, she jolted awake, her entire body flinching as the chair moved a bit. She quickly made sure there wasn’t eye contact between the two. But this made B.O.B a little upset.

“It’s ok!” He smiled. “I don’t bite.”

“You could at least look at him, jeez…” Link scoffed. Susan’s behavior towards them all was expected, but that didn’t make him any less offended by it.

Susan took a deep breath and slowly turned her head to face B.O.B. She realized he was like a pile of silly puddy compared to her. So if she wasn’t this size, it would have been a lot more terrifying. But she realized quickly that she was a bit more intimidating in this state. She looked down at him, not bothering to force a smile just yet. “Hi…”

This made B.O.B smile, his face beaming. “So you said your name was Susan, right? No Monster name yet?”

“That’s right.” Maybe the General hadn’t told them about her ‘Mandatory name change’ yet. Perhaps that was a good thing.

“Huh. What’s your story, Susan?” He asked.

“My...Story?”

“Like how did you become a Monster?”

“O-Oh...right.” What else did she have left to lose? They’d probably be the only ones who would understand anyway. “Well, I was at my wedding. And I went out to get some air, then my fiancé came out to see me~”

“Gross.” Link rolled his eyes, earning an elbow nudge from Dr. Cockroach.

Susan ignored him. “And then I was alone for a bit...then...a meteor came down and...crashed onto me.”

Dr. Cockroach suddenly sat up, looking up at her. “Did you say a meteor? As in...from space?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah…I guess something inside it did this to me…”

“Fascinating.” He took out a little notepad and wrote that down. “It’s a miracle that you even survived such a thing!”

“Pfff—big deal. I bet if a meteor hit me, I’d survive too.” Link put his feet on the table, leaning back.

Dr. Cockroach raised a brow. “I don’t think you understand the pain a gigantic space rock hurtling towards Earth would cause you, my friend.”

“Well she survived!” He gestured towards Susan. “I bet I would.”

“Mhmm..”

“Hey, Doc don’t underestimate me!”

“I never said I did.”

Susan just stared at them. They clearly had some history together, not that she bothered to ask.

A giant roar suddenly made Susan stand up in fear, her giant seat falling down.

“Not this again…” Link scoffed, yelling up to her. “It’s just Insecto! He’s not gonna hurt you, lady!”

Susan wasn’t convinced. Insectosaurus was the only one that was bigger than her—and she was 50 feet tall now! But when she noticed how annoyed Link was by her action, she managed to relax just a little. They had feelings, they weren’t human, but they had feelings.

Link leaped from his chair and made his way to the giant bug, soothing him with a voice a parent would use for a child. This seemed to calm the bug down, and Susan as well.

****

Normally Susan was asleep in her nice soft bed, but not today—not anymore. The Bed that would flip out of the wall was not very comfortable. Susan hugged her arms, sniffling as her cheeks were stained with tears. She didn’t know how many times she was going to cry herself to sleep, but no one she knew was with her. Her parents and Derek probably thought she was dead...or going to die. And even though that wasn’t the case, she was still miserable without them.

Dr. Cockroach could hear her sobs, his sympathetic side kicked in, and he pressed a little key pad, calling Monger to his cell.

Monger eventually made his way there. “Yes, Dr.?”

“Sir, would it be alright if I checked on Susan? She doesn’t seem so good.”

“That’s what I’m for.”

“Please..? I know what it’s like for her…”

Monger pondered at that for a second. “No tricks? No escape plans you need her for?”

“Honest.”

Monger gave him a stare for a second, then a nod as he led him to Susan’s cell, closing the door behind them.

Susan wiped her eyes, not turning around, her back to whoever was there.

“Are you alright, my dear?” He asked gently.

Susan didn’t respond, hugging her legs close to her.

Doc scurried up the wall and onto the bed, settling on the pillow. Her face—or rather, the top of her head was right across from him. He sat criss-crossed on the pillow, his hands together in his lap. He took a deep breath before speaking, his antennas going down. “Listen, I understand how hard all of this is for you. You’re completely cut off from the outside world, you have to stay in this prison and you’re unable to go out and see the ones you love.”

Muffled sobs were heard in response to that.

“B-But!! If you learn to appreciate what you do have—A Bed, Food, Shelter, Frie—” He cut himself off. “You’ll come to understand that...this place isn’t so terrible.”

Susan sniffled, turning to face him as she laid on her stomach. Her big watery eyes were fixated on the Doctor. It was at this moment she didn’t feel disgusted by his presence.

“Oh, my dear...look at you.” He frowned. “Here here, dry those tears.” He took off his lab coat, handing it to her. “It’s clean, I promise.” He reassured her.

She sniffed, taking the coat which was very tiny between her fingers. “T-Thanks…” She smiled, wiping her eyes with it. “Oh...I got it all wet..” She frowned, putting it down next to him. “Sorry…”

“Not to worry! I might as well go casual today.” He gestured to his dark grey turtleneck, making Susan chuckle lightly.

“Hey…” She frowned a bit. “I’m sorry if I’ve been...a little rude to you all. Behind all the looks, you’re all just people to and not just—”

“Monsters?”

Susan bit her lip. “I know I know...I feel like a horrible person…”

“It’s alright, my dear.” He placed a hand on her finger. “It makes complete sense knowing where you came from. Just make sure you tell Link how you feel. He might have been a tad offended by your words.” He cringed.

“Yeahhhh...I’ll do what I can.”

He smiled. “Well, I should let you get your rest now.” He began to leave.

“Wait! You’re a...scientist, right??”

“Yes…?”

“Do you think...you could help me? Maybe you could find a way to shrink me back to normal!”

“Oh dear...that is a tall order…”

“Oh…” Susan frowned.

“But that doesn't mean I won’t TRY!!” A maniacal laugh followed that statement. “I’d love to help you out! If Monger doesn’t try to put an end to our plan.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. And, Doc..?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks...for the talk…” She smiled at him.

“Anytime, Susan.” He nodded, leaving.

Susan laid back on the bed, now on her back. Sure, she wanted her old life more than anything. But if it didn’t work out, maybe she could learn to like this place.

#monsters vs aliens #fanfic #one shot

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elizabethrobertajones · 3 years

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Did Bobo really create the Wayward Sisters? If so, why weren't Jack and especially Cas included in that episode? That's my biggest issue with that pilot honestly, I mean, the fact that the show abandoned Claire and Cas' bond after season 10 and gave that storyline to Salmondean. Her bond with Cas is more interesting because of their connection to the Novaks. I also think that Claire and Jack would've made a more engaging dynamic and spin off together, I think they're strong characters & actors

Hi there!

Bobo isn’t the “creator” of Wayward so much as it can even have one, as it was a very organic idea, which even involved a healthy amount of fandom input. The original campaign in season 10 was for Wayward Daughters, and the idea picked up so much steam the altered title for, I guess, a mix of copyright and thematic relevance was the Sisters one. I’d say 10x08 was the real genesis of it as something that could be really solid. Once Kim and Briana were put together the chemistry and star power they could have had together was really meteoric as far as our small SPN world was concerned. Phil Sgriccia directed 9x13 and wrote 10x08 and was more of the parent of Wayward than any specific writer in that sense. Jody and Claire were pretty much common property of the show by that point. Claire was really introduced again in relation to plotlines and questions about Cas and less to do with them really going out of their way to re-launch her. I think they’d have been much cornier about it from the start and while YA protagonist diary writing her way through the end of Wayward Sisters was cute, it’s the sort of cutesy that really has to be earned. If she STARTED that way, like maybe me and 3 friends would be stanning her and everyone else would be revolted :P

(I am a YA fantasy novel author, but I do think everyone should make room in their hearts for this level of cheese)

In any case, Bobo just threw his hat into an already crowded ring with Alex, but obviously loving the characters and having his own personal wayward child to contribute did help elevate him to the prospective showrunner seat, but also all the other writers who’d written these characters except Dabb had left at that point. If Bobo was going to shepherd them through to their new show, he’d be the legacy writer, even though he was a new baby writer in the season Donna was introduced... Attrition aside, he did genuinely write them very well, loved their stories and was great with writing Jody when he could get her, so he would also have been a good choice even if all the others were left still...

But anyway. Season 10′s subplot for Cas was about Claire and learning some stuff about himself along the way, but she was used very much for his personal development and for Dean as well, being a mini Dean herself in a season where he had lost a lot of his sense of self. It’s a total accident of scheduling but Angel Heart (10x20) being the last episode before 10x22 is a nice touch in that regard. And while Cas tried really hard with Claire and awoke his inner Dad side so that he’d be more prepared for fatherhood next time, it was pretty insurmountable between them to have anything more than a bittersweet relationship where the best he could do was make up with her and see her somewhere safe. The fact of him looking like her actual dead father is horrendous the more you think about it and while she managed to see him for who he was instead of a horrible monster, that’s more than enough trauma to inflict on an already traumatised girl for the sake of helping Cas’s manpain and tidying up the sticky question of Jimmy and Cas’s right to the vessel.

Angel Heart very specifically ends with TFW mailing Claire to Jody because they know she’s already good with Alex in a genuine way and can handle these sort of issues and has done it before. And also because she can be a guardian who will not constantly remind Claire that her father is dead but something is walking around wearing a perfect reconstruction of his face. Carver era did a few things here and there with bodily autonomy and the problem of angel and demon vessels, but it was also really hit and miss. They’d get random waves of feeling guilty about it but then by necessity go back to stabbing angels in their still-living vessels an episode later. Claire was a way to address at the very least that whatever Cas was being put through was only a punishment on Cas and not on Jimmy as well, which is probably why we got such sappy Heaven scenes. We NEEDED to be shown he was in Heaven and largely okay with what was going on so that the show could justify using Cas at all as a character without breaking the code of ethics they tried to make their own characters adhere to. Aside from that it also gave Cas a side plot for when he wasn’t needed in the main plot, and any emotional connection to anything that wasn’t Sam and Dean.

Anyway 10x20 caused this huge fandom high which was followed by one of the lowest lows of the fandom immediately after, and both centred on female characters (in fact, now we know, 2 lesbians even! Though I’d wonder if, The Gay Agenda aside, Bobo spite-wrote that specifically because of the roots of Wayward) and I think that galvanised the whole movement of fans and hopefully some self-reflection in the show. They DID start making an effort in season 11, which shows some of the early signs of better inclusion but also backtracking or edging nervously away from the more intense Carver era stuff. Not just because Dean didn’t have the Mark any more but in general it was like someone had opened a window and let in some fresh air... Even before Carver bailed somewhere around the midseason to go do a different show and Dabb started to step up.

All this to say that the Wayward stuff was always about the female characters and making up for the past sins of the show. It’s even a riff on the “wayward son” line which obviously centres around male protagonists and their journey. Claire stumbled into being a part of it in the lucky way of being in the right place and time, but the journey had already started even in the season 10 momentum with earlier work and it was that which suddenly made the prospect that Jody had two young women living with her now seem like a starter for the next generation of the show as it was a mirrored format to season 1 in a way, if you took Alex and Claire as the new Sam and Dean. It was exciting but people flipped out after Angel Heart because stuff had been bubbling since season 9 and earlier in season 10, so this was just pouring more candy into an already visibly full bowl of potential tasty gems. It made a possibility seem real that hadn’t before because we already had Kim bitterly complaining that the CW refused to hear the case for a Jody spin off because she was too old. The next best thing was a Jody spin off where she was the Gandalf to some CW age appropriate characters.

(the CW is and always has been garbage)

Anyway in season 13 Jack was introduced as a Claire 2.0 but as a male character with staying power for that reason, but he was filling the space she left for Cas. He couldn’t be a father to her and neither really wanted that set up anyway. But thematically it had created the possibility of Dadstiel and the space he had in his heart for that. Since the show was in its waning years they would be looking for endgame and handing Cas an easy win with a son he could unconditionally love who would love him back unconditionally absolutely filled that gap. It was a non SamnDean thing that Cas could have for himself outside of whatever happened with them. Not sure the memo came back that he was supposed to have mORE than that but oh well it’s not real if you don’t watch it :))) But yeah Jack was always going to be linked to Cas’s endgame, he wasn’t a free-floating character such as Jody who could go where she wanted and do as she pleased. He was main story relevant from start to finish and tied inexorably to another main character’s fate. Because the show wouldn’t do that with its female characters they could be bundled into spin offs but in practical terms Jack was both never what the Wayward as envisioned by fans or writers was about, nor would he have been free to go.

Since it would have been about centering the stories of people overlooked by the main story, Claire a case in point that she had her life ruined in season 4 and it was a footnote until season ten, and then metaphorically more the concept of having queer and non-white characters in the mix of main characters, it would have represented a future of the story where the main show was unable to tread. Probably because of the CW. Also inherent biases in the writers. Bad cocktail. Jack is both too white and too male to fit the brief to ever leave SPN, and not only that but he is so as a precise mirror to the main white male characters, being passably any one of their sons if you squint, and meant to be instantly instinctively read as such... he was one of the safest bets of representing the show as the network wanted to imagine its target demographic.

So I really don’t think that Jack has any place being in a spin off of the show unless you want more of the same. They tried to give us something different and the CW didn’t like it because it wasn’t more of the same. Ironically a Jack spin off, with or without Claire, would have more chance of being greenlit and more chance of success. But the spin off they put their heart behind was Wayward Sisters as it was. And I think it was absolutely correct that never mind leaving Jack out of it after his work was done in the lead up episode to help set the table, but honestly they could have cut all the middle scenes of Sam and Dean wandering in the woods and gained precious seconds with the girls and still had a functioning story with those guys. It was like some cowardly missive was sent that the show couldn’t actually go more than 10 minutes without showing a flesh and blood Winchester or the whole thing would spontaneously sizzle out of syndication and the money tree would wither on the spot. And in the mean time, we could have been having Banter with the girls. Or Claire and Kaia holding hands some more. The good stuff :P

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teacupofdrpepper · 3 years

Note

I'd like to request a small MHA ficlet involving ShinDeku, coffee, and the chaos that ensues from sleep deprived people having to put up with their hyperactive s/o. ^_^

(Sorry this took a bit! It was two days before I realized I even got anything!)

Shinsou had a love hate relationship with sleep, on one hand. It was great, he loved the soft plushies of his pillows and the warmth that came from his bedding, UA only had the best for their students and he had hoped that they would help him better than his old stiff twin bed back at home.

On the other hand he loathed sleep, the nightmares that came with it. The uncomfortable twisting and turning, feeling like his eyes were going to pop out of their sockets and fruitlessly staring at the green clock (his mind flashed to other things that involved greens and felt a small smile twinge in the corner of chapped lips) feeling the frustration twist in his chest.

It was one of the latter nights, so. Like any sleep deprived person who is doing something they desperately need not.

Hitoshi got coffee.

That was the first mistake he made.

As the holder of the most sacred, precious quirk in the world came with regulations that Midoriya Izuku tried to follow and he would assume he did a decent job of it, he ate what he needed, he slept the amount he needed. So if you were to ask him ignoring the broken bones and that one time he kept falling off buildings interning under Gran Torino. Yes, he was doing a good job.

So when he woke up to his found vibrating on his nightstand with the clock reading “3:45 AM” he was more than a little annoyed, worried and disgruntled.

Some of those worries spiked up at the name of the caller ID, with a quick click and throwing the blankets off of him he brought it up to his ear.

“What is it? Is something wrong? Do I need to-“

He was cut off by his boyfriends voice

“Did you ever see that one tumblr comic about a mom dinosaur telling her baby to close its eyes and count to ten because the meteor was coming and they wouldn’t be alive by the time the baby dino hit ten”

“What-“

“Because I do and I spent an hour crying over it”

Bewildered, Izuku took the ear from his phone to stare down at it, contemplating whether or not to hang up or inquire his boyfriend further because honestly he was curious.

So what he ended up asking was “are you high”

Hitoshi on the other line took on a sultry tone.

“On those dekudonks? You bet your fucking ass I am”

“I’m hanging up now”

“NO-“ Izuku had to admit to himself he did giggle at the cut off squeak on the other line, it wasn’t two seconds before his phone lit up again.

He clicked answer again

“I’ve been betrayed”

“Smartass”

“I will hypnotize you to come cuddle”

“Oh?” Feeling his body relax he laid back into the bed, tone taking on a teasing tone he said “the tall, scary Hitoshi shinsou want’s cuddles? The one who made Denki do the turkey dance in the middle of the cafeteria in front of Jirou and tried to fist fight Kacchan on the second day of the hero course wants cuddles?”

There was a huff from the line.

“Kaminari lost a bet to me and that prick deserved it”

Deku felt laughter take over him remembering the day Kacchan challenged Toshi to a no quirk fight and ended being pinned to the ground. “Believe me” he grinned “I know, he still sulks over it.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less, I know when I get transferred there he’ll wanna fight again”

“On a scale of one to ten how fast do you think I could chug three cold Frappuccinos” Hitoshi inquired, staring down at the forbidden apple.

“Let’s not”

“Let’s do”

It was in under three minutes, Izuku timed it.

They talked endlessly about things, about how the villain dabi had a weird resemblance to the late Todoroki Touya which sparked an argument on Izuku being All Might’s illegitimate child which he was not thank you very much to bingeing star track some American series to shinsou doing the Rasputin dance from memory while Izuku poorly sang it quietly as he could.

It was finally about 5:00 am when the purple haired male finally crashed out and he himself felt his own tiredness crash over him like a wave. Luckily it was a weekend for them and he mused he could skip out on breakfast and maybe pick up lunch with Hitoshi.

He drifted off with smiles of their silliness still fresh in his mind and committed himself to remembering it as vividly as he could, still on call Hitoshi’s soft snores lulled him finally into his own slumber.

No one questioned why deku came down late and was more giddy than usual, wasn’t their business anyway.

#bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #shindeku #Shinsou Hitoshi #deku #boku no hero academia #Shinsou Hitoshi is in the hero course #solar writes

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confused-stars · 3 years

Text

Alienfam AU - Chapter One

ao3 link here! ko-fi link here!

Chapter One: The house lay still and empty beneath the overhanging trees when Hitoshi approached on the road.

Just as he'd planned. He didn't want to talk things out right now, just wanted to quietly fume for a while because didn't he deserve it? Having a parent who always tried to understand everything sucked sometimes.

And some things couldn't be fixed by talking.

Hitoshi unlocked the front door and toed his shoes off. He was immediately greeted by the welcoming meow of their cat, Coffee. For once, he didn't immediately lean down to scratch her head, and she seemed mildly perplexed at that.

Hitoshi just ignored her and moved past into the kitchen living room combo. There was a covered bowl of something sitting on the counter, along with a note.

The note read 'if you need to talk, text any time. i'll see you tomorrow otherwise.'

Short and to the point. Hitoshi looked at it for a long moment. Then he crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash.

He ignored the food, too, instead grabbing a pack of cookies from the snack drawer - he deserved comfort food right now.

He hated fighting with his dad. He didn't want to snap at him, ever, but it had been happening more and more lately. Sometimes, Hitoshi couldn't stand his worried looks, his prying questions, his 'your teacher called again' this and 'you don't need to shut me out' that.

Hitoshi wasn't six anymore. He knew his dad couldn't just magically make everything better.

Besides, it was fine. He was fine. He just wanted to be left alone for a change, was that too much to ask?

Except... no, that wasn't quite right, was it?

The crux of the problem was that Hitoshi didn't have anyone. Aside from his father and the cat, that was. Maybe Aunt Nem when she wasn't off traveling.

And Hitoshi didn't like to socialize, either. But sometimes... sometimes he just felt entirely alone in the world. Mostly when everyone else in school ganged up on him, calling him names, whispering about him, even throwing things at him or breaking his stuff, sometimes. He hadn't told his dad about the broken spinner keychain yet. He didn't want him to get angry and make a fuss with the school. No, this was Hitoshi's own problem to deal with and he was doing just fine.

He sat on his bed and booted up his laptop, wrapped in a comforting cocoon of blanket, cookies in his lap. Maybe a good horror movie or something would help. No way was he sleeping yet, despite being bone-tired. He wouldn't be able to, anyways.

Hopefully he'd collapse some time close to the early morning hours so he wouldn't have to pretend to be asleep when his dad checked on him. He never quite believed he was all that convincing.

Hitoshi clicked his way around Netflix aimlessly, nothing really catching his eye. Not even his usual comfort movies seemed to hit the spot. There was just... nothing. Staring at the one slightly off colored spot on the ceiling all night was starting to sound tempting.

But he had to think back to the insults thrown at him by a handful of boys in his class today. Well. Not at him. More like they'd all grouped together and talked about him so loudly he'd be sure to hear.

'Obviously she didn't want him. If I were stuck with him, I'd try to get rid of him, too.'

Since they'd learned about his mother, things had only gotten worse.

It was fucking unfair. Hitoshi had done nothing to them and he couldn't understand how they didn't even have the common fucking decency to not make digs at family stuff like that.

He didn't even miss his mom. He hadn't known her. His dad had always been enough.

But the fact that they had dared... he'd gotten so angry. He hadn't gotten physical, he'd never been the type and the martial arts classes his dad had signed him up for helped channel any of that sort of energy into something safe. But he had cursed quite a bit as he'd shot back at the boys, talking about how one of their dads was probably fucking his secretary who always picked him up from school, and how another would die alone in a ditch somewhere by twenty-five, high out of his mind.

They had laughed. But the teacher who had overheard him hadn't been so amused.

And neither had his father.

Hitoshi closed his laptop forcefully and fell back on the bed. No one gave a shit about his opinion. He couldn't even fight back - all they ever did was laugh and not at all take him seriously. That feeling of complete and utter powerlessness, combined with how much he just wanted a single friend... it was overwhelming enough that he felt his throat tighten painfully now, and tears shooting into his eyes.

It wasn't fucking fair.

The universe had it out for him specifically.

... said universe chose that moment to make itself known.

The bright light outside the window flashed up so suddenly, and was so strong, that Hitoshi instinctively wrenched his arm up to protect his face and still only saw little dots of light for a good few seconds, long enough to almost panic. A cacophony of noise followed, cracking, frantic beeping, something... impacting.

Then silence.

His vision returned, and Hitoshi was left blinking into the darkness of his room. The hair on his arms stood on end. Not only from whatever shock this had been, but because the air felt almost charged with... something.

He slowly sat up and looked towards the window.

Nothing. He couldn't have just imagined this, could he?

When he stood, his knees buckled underneath him for a moment. Huh. He walked over to the window and peered outside.

There was no more glow.

But the forest that started beneath their house seemed... oddly shaped against the dark night sky. He couldn't see much, but it seemed like some trees had been forcefully bent out of the way of... something moving through them. As he watched, one of them slowly leaned further to the side and finally, with a loud crack, broke and fell.

Hitoshi stared for a long moment, his own heartbeat loud in his ears. A... meteor? Did that kind of thing happen outside of tv? Didn't people have ways to predict their flight patterns now, so they would've been warned?

Except... what if it wasn't a meteor?

Hitoshi wished his dad was here, but only briefly, as he scrambled to find his phone buried under his sheets. He shoved it into his pocket and all but sprinted to the front door to pull on his shoes.

Hitoshi didn't believe in aliens. He didn't believe in much of anything, really. Only in himself and his dad and maybe that cats had nine lives.

But he wanted to know what was going on, and if it was something weird, the area would be off limits soon enough. He just wanted to be the first to get a look. Just one look.

The event had shaken him from his self-pitying stupor, so he felt like he had to keep the momentum going.

Coffee was nowhere in sight even though she normally tried to slip out at night if he wasn't careful about the door. T he crash must have freaked her out, too. Hitoshi made a mental note to check on her when he got back, even as he rounded the house and jogged towards the edge of the woods.

The faint smell of smoke lay in the air. Was something burning? There was a... metallic note to it. It almost bit into Hitoshi's nose as he breathed.

He climbed over the low fence separating their backyard from the woods, and then he was off, following the path he'd followed hundreds of times in his life, deeper into the woods.

The smoke in the air got thicker as he walked, until it was bad enough that he had to stifle coughs, but there was a faint flickering of light visible through the underbrush now, and he just wanted to catch a glimpse. Then he'd turn around. Just a glimpse.

Hitoshi climbed over a fallen tree, pushing through the branches that made up its crown. As his feet hit the forest floor again, his field of vision was finally cleared.

And... fuck.

Hitoshi stared.

Coughed against the smoke.

Kept staring.

That... wasn't a meteor.

In front of him sat a crater, with smoldering fires dotting it here and there, and there was an object resting in the middle of it. But said object was not a large rock like he'd expected.

It was a spaceship.

It was undoubtedly, irrefutably, a spaceship.

Or what was left of one anyway.

It didn't look like just some piece of space station trash, either - there were thrusters and what looked like a windshield, or whatever you would call that on a spaceship... fuck, it was a spaceship.

Hitoshi shook his head. His eyes were stinging from the smoke, but they weren't fooling him.

He really needed to get out of here. What if the authorities came and decided to silence him or something, because he'd seen too much? A Men in Black style mindwipe would be the best outcome in that scenario.

He took a slow step backwards, not taking his eyes off the wreck.

And then the latch on its side opened with the hissing of decompressed air.

Hitoshi should have bolted right there, but for the first time he understood why deer didn't just run off the street when a car came barreling towards them. He felt rooted to the ground.

A hand appeared, grasping onto the edge of the opening Hitoshi couldn't quite see into from this position. Then a second hand. There was a soft noise of effort, and then out came tumbling a small figure.

The alien hit the ground with a pained, high-pitched cry, and stayed curled up there, face turned away from where Hitoshi was standing.

It looked... human. At least its shape did. There were four limbs and the hands had looked just like normal hands, even if they were small.

The alien had silvery white hair that was splayed about it in a messy tangle now, and it was wearing some kind of white, shapeless tunic.

It wasn't moving, but Hitoshi could see it still breathing.

He closed his eyes and counted to ten.

Then he begun his descent into the crater.

#j writes #alienfam au #this is a lot shorter than i thought it was but i love it a lot anyway

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

A Mile in My Shoes | KSJ Oneshot

Pairing: Platonic!Seokjin x Reader

Summary: You hate Kim Seokjin, that arrogant bastard, and he hates you just as much...right?

Genre: Body swap!au, enemies to friends, Fluff, angst, Solo artist!Seokjin, Solo Artist!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Rating: PG, content wise, teen for language

Word Count: 9k words

Network: @castlebangtan

A/N: Yay! 100 followers celebration finale!!! Thank you everyone! I’ve got some other stuff cooking as well so hopefully I’ll be more active!

Other: Masterlist

Kim Seokjin. You hate Kim Seokjin. Why? Well, it was sort of his fault.

The flashing lights of the award ceremony, the buzz of the crowd, the packed audience, did nothing to subtract your attention from the person on stage. With a bedazzled white t-shirt and violet purple hair, Kim Seokjin sang on stage. His charisma was no doubt exquisite and his singing technique was divine...but he was a total ass.

It suited him, being the number one pop star in the past year; and he was still growing. He was a prideful creature and had been sweeping the award shows, your awards being stolen from right out under you. You were sure that he was out for you ever since the misunderstanding a few years ago.

You weren’t actually sure why he still hated you. You had worked your ass off to try and fix what was wrong, but he had ignored you. So, technically, the feud that continued was childish and completely his fault.

Alright, maybe you fed into it a little, but you were still annoyed and quite honestly tired of it. Jin was a handsome man. His personality was anything but.

You rolled your eyes as Jin did a hip thrust, to the screams of his fans. The cameras were still focusing on you throughout the experience, your feud well known. He came right up to the edge of the stage and looked you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Did you see my bag? Did you see my bag? My bag’s filled with trophies. How you think bout that? How you think bout that? Haters are already giving up. My success is already so golden-”

You tuned him out, a small fire of rage boiling in the pit of your stomach. Why was he still holding onto this stupid feud? If anything was clear, Kim Seokjin hated you, and you hated Kim Seokjin.

The after party was a nightmare. You sat at the bar, drink sloshing around lazily in the glass. Heavy bass drummed against your frame. Kim Seokjin was the center of attention, his broad shoulders and puffy lips high above the crowd.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” A reporter shoved a microphone into your face.

You groaned, not responding. You had a terrible conscience. If someone asked you a question, you felt obligated to answer truthfully, maybe that’s what got you into this mess. It was just easier if you kept quiet. The last thing you wanted was to add onto the feud even more.

Seokjin surveyed you out of the corner of his eyes. You always stole the spotlight, even when he had swept the awards. You were still the one getting interviewed the most, getting the most press. They all wanted to know your reaction. He hated you for that. At the same time, he admired your self restraint.

“Jin, what do you think about winning all the awards you were nominated for?” A reporter appeared. The broad shouldered man waved to the security.

“Who let paparazzi in?” He muttered under his breath as the reporters were escorted out.

A part of Jin really missed being a newer artist, like you. He couldn’t just write and produce his own songs anymore, he had a team for that. Everything needed to be approved by the higher ups and he always had to be happy. Meanwhile, you had made a name for yourself by saying what you wanted and making the music you wanted. Sure, you didn’t win awards, but at least you had that freedom. And he was jealous of that.

He brushed away the revelation and weaved his way through the crowd. The party had died down a little and his little posse had trickled out. His little gang of friends had left or were doing something else.

Taehyung was with Jungkook ordering and consuming copious amounts of food. Namjoon and Yoongi, well known producers, were huddled over a notebook and whispering lyrics to each other. Hoseok and Jimin had each gone home early.

Hoseok claimed he needed to practice, being the main dancer for Taehyung, and Jimin claimed he needed to check on his pets. You were sitting alone at the bar, ready to fall asleep, but your night wouldn’t be complete if you didn’t have a run in with Jin.

“Drowning your sorrows?” Jin plopped into a seat, leaning against the bar with a smug smile.

“Who says I’m drowning? I’m doing just fine.” You threw back the last sips of the drink.

He eyed the empty glasses littering the counter. The bartender was slowly going through and cleaning them up. Jin was a little worried, but he...he didn’t like you, as a person. You were self centered and hypocritical, but perhaps he was the same.

“How many of those have you had?”

“Unimportant.” You gestured for the bartender to pour another and the man looked warily at you.

“I think you should stick to water, miss.” The bartender smiled gently.

“Nah.” You shouted, not realizing how loud your voice was. “Just do your job and pour another.”

Jin sighed and put a hand over your glass, gently peeling your fingers back. “No, he’s right.” He said sternly and handed the glass back to the bartender, who looked thankful.

“You’re an asshole, Jin. Just let me be sad without gloating for once.” You deflated, slouching in your seat. He scoffed and looked away.

“You’re just being a sore loser. I won every category I was nominated for. How many categories did you even get nominated for, let alone win?” He bit back, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Fuck you.” You pointed at him, finger pressed hard against his chest.

Then you stood from your seat, shouldering your bag, and stormed out. Your phone pinged with unseen messages, all from your manager.

Jin rolled his eyes, but he did regret his words slightly. It had been so long, he wasn’t even sure why he was mad at you anymore. Why were you in a feud with him anyway? The man checked his phone. Three schedule reminders popped up and he grimaced. It was already 1 A.M. and he needed to be awake in five hours. He stood and bowed, saying his goodbyes to his friends, and leaving the bar.

He waited outside for his driver to pull around the block. It was quiet, the muffled pounding of the bass inside the bar leaked out. He wished he had your guts once in a while, to just say what he wanted. He wished he could be like you, just for a moment.

A light streaked across the sky, a comet passing by. His eyes widened in awe as the meteor shower began. It was...beautiful.

Meanwhile, you were lazing drunkenly over the window sill in your living room. The house was dark, the curtains open to allow for moonlight to trickle through. Some may be scared of the dark, but you always liked it. The peace of being alone, surrounded by nothing to distract you except your mind was appealing to you. Why? Who knew. You ran your finger along the dusty window sill.

You glanced at your phone. Your agent had messaged several times.

Why didn’t you win anything, huh?

Next time, you better win an award or…

They’re going to pull you from the label.

They thought you were going to be big, Y/N. It’s such a shame.

So many people were rooting for you. Maybe in another life.

You groaned and powered off your phone. How annoying. Your career was going down the drain, you had followers, but your music wasn’t getting the right platforms. It seemed that no matter how much you tried to get recognized, no one else cared. Your only worth was your feud with Seokjin.

“Goddamnit, Jin. Would you lend me just a bit of fame? Just a little? Let me breathe, give me a break.” You hissed under your breath.

You took a few steps back and collapsed onto your mattress. The meteor shower began, the brilliant streaks of white lit up the sky. It felt like the world was laughing at you, blessing you with such a beautiful sky on the worst night of your life.

This was not his house. Jin sat up straight. He felt different for sure, but then again, he did drink a bit last night. The man stood, wobbling slightly. How much did I drink? He thought, stumbling to the bathroom. Did he catch a ride with someone? He didn’t remember much. What did he do?

“Hello?” He called out hoarsely, only to yelp in surprise.

His voice was high. High and female, definitely not his voice. It was also...familiar. Jin threw open the door to the bathroom hurriedly. He rushed to the mirror, only to shriek in surprise.

That’s not my face….OH MY GOD THAT’S NOT MY FACE. He internally screamed, stumbling back. You were staring back at him. He rubbed his arms and looked down at his body. He felt his cheeks heating up. Yup, this was...this was a woman’s body. But how?

He slapped his hands over his cheeks. His face, his beautiful face! Okay, so that was a little vain. Jin studied himself. No, You were certainly...not hard to look at, that was for sure. He patted down his body. Then there was a ring from the bedside table and he vaulted over to pick it up. Your phone was ringing, his number flashing boldly.

“Y/N?” He whispered.

“Oh my fucking god, seokjin, what did you do this time?” His voice hissed over the line.

“This has to be a nightmare. Oh god, please wake up.” He cried slapping his face.

“Hey! Don’t ruin the merchandise!” You shouted.

Then another realization hit him. You could ruin his career. He needed to accept that this was happening and get his priorities straight. You were in his body. You had all the power...and you hated him.

“Nice clothes, Jin.” Your sarcastic drawl crackled through the speaker. Even he could hear it, despite it being his own voice.

“They’re all custom fit.” He bragged, marching over to your closet. “What do you have in here? Trash? Oh, this could easily pass as a paper bag. Was beige in style when you picked it out?” He said snarkily, throwing some clothing behind him and onto the bed. He ignored your protests.

“Jin! Get! Out! Of! My! Closet! Also you better not have touched my body you perv!” You shouted so loud that your voice broke off.

“What? I’m just doing some reorganizing. Besides, you think I want to touch your body? You flatter yourself.” He said, throwing another beige item out of the closet. He pretended he didn’t hear you scolding him from over the phone.

“It’s like you only shop during fall and then go into hibernation.” He commented. “Which is likely, considering how many albums you’ve released.” He muttered, but oh boy had you heard him.

“At this point, I don’t care, Jin.” You grumbled over the line. “I’m about to be dropped anyway.”

The beige sweater in his hands tumbled to the ground. Sure, he knew you had been struggling, but was it really that bad? He was at a loss for words. The man took a deep breath in.

“Why?” He asked, concern evident. He slowly put down a pair of blue jeans.

“I’m not as successful as they thought I would be.” You explained, defeat in your voice. “If I don’t win an award at the next show, I’ll be dropped. Also, why is Taehyung crashed on the couch?”

His eyes widened. A lot of the group crashed at his mansion after a long night out. It was easier than driving them all to six different locations.

“Shit.” He muttered. “Okay, just, just act normal, alright? I’ll be there soon and maybe we can explain this to them.” He whispered, hanging up and searching through your closet for a decent outfit.

This was not how you wanted your morning to go. You stood, dressed casually and waiting by the front door anxiously. Your arms were crossed and you tapped your foot. Taehyung stumbled around behind you.

“So you’re telling me that you’re Y/N and not Jin?” He asked.

“Yes.” You said shortly, having already explained it a million times. “You’ll see when he gets here.”

Taehyung took a seat at the counter, his blonde hair falling in waves around his face. He drummed his fingers on the marble surface. His dark eyes glanced you over.

“How much did you drink last night, Jin? Are you feeling alright?”

“For the thousandth time, I’m Y/N, not Jin!” You huffed angrily.

“Okay, okay, you’re Y/N then.” He held his hands up. “But just let me know when your little act is over, okay?” He winked.

You resisted the urge to scream in rage at his lack of understanding. With the twinkle in his eye and the mischievous look on his lips, you couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or genuinely not believing your story. Your lips twisted into a deep frown and you stalked over to him, ready to talk some sense into him when the door flung open. You turned around, face shifting.

“Aish, a frown really doesn’t look pretty on my face.” A voice came from the doorway. Your voice. You were used to looking up at Jin, now you looked down. Was that really how you looked? You felt self conscious suddenly.

“Are you trying to give me wrinkles before 30 or something?” Jin sighed, leaning against the door. “Besides, why didn’t you lock the door?”

“That’s my fault.” taehyung piped up, suspiciously looking between you.

“Yah! Taehyung you really need to be more careful about that! What if someone tries to break in while I’m asleep! And technically, you’re breaking in.” Jin huffed.

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “No way, that’s totally something Jin would say. Are you shitting me?”

“I’ve been trying to explain this to you for the past 30 minutes, Taehyung.” You paced angrily.

“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.” Taehyung smiled lazily, flashing the golden piece of metal. “But are you being serious? That you’ve...switched?”

“Why else would I be talking to him.” You gestured to Jin with your head, annoyance staining your features.

“This is why I don’t scowl.” Jin chimed in, walking over to you and smoothing out your face. “It looks awful.” His fingers brushed against your cheek.

“Awful? I’m offended. This is my body you’re talking about.”

“Technically it’s mine. So don’t go commit arson or something while you’re in there.” Jin crossed his arms.

“Trust me, I have bigger things to worry about and do.” You shot back.

“Will you guys just shut up?” Taehyung slapped the counter, causing your attention to shift once more. “How the fuck are you guys going to change back? Jin, you have a million interviews this week about the awards show and Y/N has, I don’t know, songwriting to get to?”

“Ah, fuck you to, Tae.” You frowned.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” You mumbled in response.

“Anyway, I think I can fake it until we can figure this out.” You said, lifting your chin. “It won’t be too hard to act like a narcissistic ass who pretends not to be.”

“Hey!” Jin shouted his protests. A ping from a cellphone caused you to jump. Jin recognized it and began to search his pockets before realizing he was you.

You seemed to get the memo and you pulled out the phone in your pocket. It buzzed with a calendar reminder.

“An interview in an hour?” You said quietly. Then you dropped the phone onto the counter. “Oh my god, there’s an interview in an hour.”

“It’s really weird to see such expressions on Jin’s face.” Taehyung mused.

“Shit shit shit.” You, wait no, Jin said. “That’s the one to discuss the music in my album and talk about the awards show. Since it doesn’t seem like we’re going to solve this in an hour, don’t fuck it up.”

“Excuse me, it’s my album now and I will say what I like.” You pursed your lips.

“I don’t expect you to understand the lyrics and songs in my album.”

“The lyrics written by your team of lyricists? Yeah, I won’t think twice about the meaning of ‘girl you look so fire’.” You air quoted.

“You think you’re so much better because you write your own lyrics, huh? Well, it’s ridiculous. Stop trying to be an outsider when you’re very much in the public eye.” Jin stated, but his words held a ring of truth.

You were, indeed, very popular, why did you feel the need to be ‘special’ and pretend to be all unique and weird? It drove him mad and he counted it as another reason he disliked you. You didn’t respond to his statement, instead remaining silent.

Yes, you were fuming inside, but it was only because you felt like kicking yourself. There were so many times you had been offered premium spots, but you had turned it down, thinking it was too mainstream or times when you could have made a chart topping song and instead you chose the more casual songs.

“Fine.” You admitted defeat. “I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll try my best not to fuck this up.” You said earnestly. “But in return, please just...don’t look through my desk.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal. Should there be another reason?”

“Fine.”

“Do we have a deal?”

“Deal.”

The interviewer was an idiot. He only ever asked you the most obvious of questions. There’s no depth or deeper meaning he’s looking for other than for you to gloat and cause more drama with...yourself.

“You completely swept the show this year.” The man lightly clapped and you mimicked it.

You were already sweating under the pressure of the lights and the knowledge that you had to sound like Seokjin. Not only did you have to sound like Seokjin, but you also had to give the right answers.

“That’s amazing. You’re one of the fastest growing artists of the century. It’s incredible, really. How does it feel, knowing that millions have their eyes on you?”

Suffocating. It’s so hard to breathe. Was this what it was like all the time? You almost felt bad for Jin, but at the same time you wanted to roll your eyes. The interviewer was just trying to butter you up so that you could spill any juicy secrets.

Sadly, you don’t think he would buy the ‘I switched bodies with my arch nemesis and now we’re here.’ secret.

Speaking of which, how did you get into this mess in the first place? And how were you going to get out of it? Was it something to do with your wish the other night? The meteor shower? But according to all the body swap movies you’d seen before, he must have wished for your life as well. Which seemed absurd. Why would the Kim Seokjin want to forfeit his life to body swap for some nobody artist like you?

“It’s honestly such an honor, you know?” You tried your best to respond like him. You could almost see him face palming. “It’s surreal. I still can’t believe it’s happening.” You continued. “Everyone remember to stream Dynamite!” You plugged, flashing a dazzling smile.

It seemed to be the right move because the crowd went wild.

“Now, Jin, you haven’t mentioned Awake, your latest song. I know Dynamite and Mic Drop have been huge successes, really, but Awake you rarely mention. Maybe you can give some insight into your thoughts behind the song? I know I want to know.”

Okay, maybe you were wrong. The interviewer was smart as shit. And now you had to analyze Jin’s lyrics. You had heard the song a couple times and it honestly wasn’t that bad. You could make something up and continue on with the interview. You remembered he mentioned once a while ago that it was completely written by himself, no lyricists, nada. So you supposed you should honor that.

“As you know,” you started carefully. “Awake is one of the few songs completely written by me.” You kicked yourself for your wording, but forged onward. You took a deep breath, thinking for a moment.

“It’s about...it’s about struggling with insecurities. I’ve always felt like my voice wasn’t good enough, my music would never make it, that I don’t cut it in the industry. I feared I would just be another pretty face stuck onto generic pop music.” You found yourself rambling, releasing some inner frustration you had in yourself.

“Awake was my form of release. I pushed all my negative thoughts and energy into the song. My doubts, my fears, and what I long for. It speaks of my...my desperation to continue, even when I felt like things were bleak for me. Something inside told me to keep running, keep creating, and I did. That’s why I’m thankful I’m able to be where I am now.” You concluded. “And that’s why Awake is such a personal song to me.”

Obviously, a full lyrical and psychological breakdown of the song had not been what the interviewer was expecting, but he seemed pleased nonetheless.

“Wow, so it must mean a lot to you?”

“Yeah.” You answered half heartedly, feeling emotionally drained from that speech.

“So I heard from the daily idol that-”

His words muffled and you answered his questions monotonously. Why had you gone into so much detail? It was like a switch had been flipped. The lyrics weren’t bad. In fact, the song was good and you could see yourself easily sobbing over it, but it just had to be written by Jin. It was such a shame, yet at the same time, it showed that Jin could write meaningful lyrics if he wanted to.

The only reason he needed a lyricist team, you concluded, was pure greed and laziness. That only gave you more reason to dislike him, but, as the song said: My happy times asked me this question; You, are you really okay? it asked me. And after all of that, were you really okay with hating Kim Seokjin?

Your phone pinged. You glanced down at the screen to see one text from Jin.

Did you mean what you said?

Jin was really hoping you hadn’t completely fucked his career. He was also hoping that your agent would stop texting you for one minute. Instead, he was bombarded with questions like ‘are you writing?’ ‘What are you doing to improve?’ ‘You better win more at the Grammys, got it?’ ‘Are you going to lose to Seokjin again?’ ‘Why aren’t you answering?’

He wanted to slam his head into a wall. Why would you ever put up with this? He mindlessly scrolled through earlier texts. At first, it seemed the relationship started off alright, but every now and then toxicity would come through on the agent’s part.

Soon enough, it just devolved into you not answering her texts and her berating you. From your attitude, however, her berating was as good as yelling at a wall. Even he knew that you wouldn’t budge. But...you loved your career. That was obvious enough. You loved your job, you loved making music. What would happen if that got taken away?

Well, it wasn’t happening on his watch. He refused to be the reason you lost your job. So he did what he promised we wouldn’t. Jin searched your desk drawers. He had a feeling he knew what it was you were hiding, but he wanted to make sure. It was better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission in this case.

He rummaged around before he pulled out an old and tattered, leather bound, notebook. Inside were songs and lyrics dating all the way back to when you would have been in middle school. The handwriting got progressively messier, but your lyrics were...beautiful.

As he read over them, he was swept into another world. From cloudy skies to hazy summer afternoons, he read through your journey. The songs were cheesy at first, but then they slowly delved into darker subjects.

You wrote your mental health struggles, your relationship issues, your anger, everything was placed in this one leather notebook. It felt wrong to hold this much power, this much information, in his hands. Yet, they were technically your hands. Did he feel bad? Yes. Was he ever going to bring it up? No, because he valued his life.

“Y/N? Open up, I’ve got to brief you on the photoshoot!” A voice shouted from the front door.

Jin looked up, startled, and gently placed the journal where he found it. Then he rushed to the door.

“Who are you?” He barked.

“It’s Lisa, who else? Now open the door, we don’t have a ton of time!” Her voice was hurried, so he reluctantly opened the door.

“A photoshoot?” He breathed, confused.

“Yes, the big photoshoot for your comeback. Did you hit your head or something? This is all you’ve been talking about for the past month.” The girl, Lisa, rolled her eyes.

“More like switched bodies with my worst enemy.” He grumbled.

The blonde haired girl narrowed her eyes and he remembered his place. You were doing a good job at pretending to be him and it hadn’t even occurred to you, it seemed, to try and ruin his career. So the least he could do was to return the favor.

“What?”

“Sorry, nevermind.” He waved it off. How did you usually act with people? He never could tell. You were always snarky with him, but after reading your lyrics and walking around in your body, you didn’t seem to carry yourself that way.

“Well, as your agent, I really need you to get it together, alright?”

“You’re my agent?” He gaped. After seeing the way she treated you, it was all he could do to stop himself from rushing at her.

But he wouldn’t have the same strength he had when he was in his usual body. It was a little concerning how casual and easy it felt to be in another person’s body. It was like it was growing on him and he didn’t like it one bit. Jin was getting comfortable and the feeling of unease had been lost on him.

“Indeed I am. Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine. Really.” He managed. The man settled himself on the couch while Lisa went over the requirements.

“So we’re looking here for a more mystical approach. I know it’s a lot different from your usual no nonsense approach, but this could be good in repainting your image and getting you into more drama. A little birdy told me Jin is doing the same concept, so hopefully you’ll attract some buzz.”

“Shouldn’t I…” He wasn’t sure how you spoke or treated your agent, so he fought for the right words. “Shouldn’t I look into distancing myself from the Jin drama?”

To his surprise, your agent furrowed her eyebrows. Lisa seemed appalled by this.

“Y/N. We’ve been over this. Jin is keeping you relevant, keeping you in the public eye. Your feud causes people to draw sides and therefore, we get more publicity. So don’t you understand? Jin is the reason you’re anybody.” the woman sniffed. “Focus on getting as many followers as possible before I set up the formal meeting to settle it, okay? Trust me, this is a mutually beneficial feud.”

Jin frowned. You had all these beautiful lyrics, songs that meant something. Was the feud really that important?

“So I’ve got some reference photos here.” Lisa threw a pile of photos onto the table. Jin just stared. How did they get these? They weren’t even released yet.

“Where did you get these?” He still had to get used to the higher tone of your voice and it was quite honestly disconcerting. It felt like he was nervous all the time.

“You know I have my connections.” She winked.

Jin picked up a laminated photo and turned it over in his hands. He didn’t know what to say, this was all insane.

“Hello?” The woman snapped her fingers several times. “You okay? It’s like you’ve been replaced or something. Hellooooo? Y/N? Are you in there?”

“You don’t know how right you are.” He mumbled.

“What?”

Jin blinked rapidly, trying to regain your sense of personality. Right, right, how did you usually act? He hoped he hadn’t just royally fucked you over. Sure, this may not be his body, but he felt a sense of responsibility, being the temporary caretaker.

“Ah, nevermind, nevermind.” He waved it off with a little laugh. The woman narrowed her eyes at him, but continued on.

“You’ll arrive on set at least two hours prior in order to get you all set up. Then we’ll shoot. You’ll have a fifteen minute break and then we’ll do it again. Then you’re free. I know it’s a lot harsher than you’re used to but-”

“That’s all?” He was happy to be in your place at this moment. You had it so easy!

“Yeah, as I said, it’s a little intense but-”

“Pshhh I’ll be fine.” He reassured her and though she looked skeptical, she just nodded and gathered her things.

“Be there, 6:00 P.M. Goodbye, Y/N.” She dipped her head and slipped out the door, slamming the wood behind her. The wall shook.

“What a sourpuss.” He let out a sigh of relief and deflated, leaning against the couch. His phone buzzed.

Taehyung’s number flashed on screen. He mentally prepared himself and then picked up the call.

“Hello Y/N, or should I say...Jin!” Taehyung’s mischievous voice crackled through the speaker.

“God, I don’t need another reminder.” He grumbled.

He had successfully pulled off the ‘I hate everything about this’ look. But in truth, he didn’t hate this. It wasn’t so bad and it was a nice vacation.

“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I did some research and well, the truth is, I found nothing.” Taehyung admitted. Before Jin could register this reality, the man on the other side continued. “But there’s gotta be a time limit. Maybe some other kind of limit. I’ll look into it.”

“Get on it, Kim.” Jin barked, growing tired of the conversation. “If you have nothing else important to say, just hang up.”

“Wow, so mean, Jin, to one of your closest friends too! Maybe Y/N was right about all that asshole stuff.”

“See!” You echoed from the background of the call.

“Is that Y/N? Y/N! Get on the phone right now, we need to have a talk about this!”

“Don’t you have a photoshoot in a bit?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Aw man,” Your voice came through clearer as Taehyung passed you the device. “I was really looking forward to it.”

“Looking forward to stealing my concept?!”

There was a long pause and you let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Jin. I didn’t know until last week and it was too late to change.” Your voice was soft, gentle, and, dare he say, guilty?

He smoothed the wrinkles between his brows and paced between the couch and coffee table.

“It’s fine. You obviously don’t control your life.”

You actually felt hurt by that. Your expression went stony and cold, your grip on the device tightened.

“Yet you’re the one with every single part of your day scheduled down to the second.” You pulled the phone away bitterly to look at the piling notifications.

“It helps keep me on task.” He defended lamely.

“Why? It just seems...stressful. You have no free time. Honestly, it’s reckless, that’s what it is. One day you’re just going to collapse. You’re such an idiotic ass, you know? And don’t think I can’t feel the soreness in your muscles, Jin, because I can-”

His hands clenched into fists. Who were you to judge his lifestyle? Sure, he’d made fun of your wardrobe, but he hadn’t tried to insult you as...a person.

“-If I stop moving, I feel restless. It’s better to just wake up and gogo go until I can’t, then fall asleep. Do it all again. If I stop moving, it feels like death. Was that what you wanted?”

“No Jin, I didn’t mean to pry I-”

“Just stop talking. I never thought I’d see the day I was sick of hearing my own goddamn voice.” He said coldly and hung up.

You didn’t understand at all. And how could you? Sure, you were in his body, but it wasn’t like you had the years of training instilled in your brain or the knowledge that he accumulated through the time he’d been a star. He checked the time. The photoshoot was soon, and he planned to be there right on time.

“Why did you give me the stupidest smile.” You groaned, arm falling over your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, I work with what I got and I worked you hard. This just must be all you got.” Jin huffed, leaning back in his chair. “And what was up with that speech about Awake?”

“I meant every word.” You said firmly.

He was quiet for a moment, not having a retort. You didn’t like dragging things out and it was bound to come out sooner or later.

What terrified you was how easy it was to be Jin. It was like trying on clothes, but these fit better than anything you’d ever worn. Sure, it had been disorienting in the beginning, but now you’d learned so much about Jin. How he liked his coffee, what shoes he wore for which events, what his favorite shirt was, how he treated his staff, etc. The more you found out about Jin, the less you had to hate about him. Still, his ego was insufferable.

The whir of the fan in the room rotated and filled the silence. The greenery of his house was nice, but you preferred the ‘I’m poor and want to be fashionable’ feel your apartment had. Thus, you had agreed to meet with Seokjin to discuss the situation at his, your, place. You didn’t want to think about him rooting around your things, but honestly at this point, you might as well be naked around each other. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it by now.

“I keep thinking about that night, Y/N.” Jin mumbled. “Why were we switched that night?”

You remained silent, pulling your arm away from your face and staring at the white ceiling. There was a crack in it that ran all the down the hallway. The paint was fading as well, giving away to the garish blue you had covered a year ago. There was still a stain in the left corner because Jennie had once projectile vomited up there when she had too much to drink. You shuddered at the memory.

“Maybe it had to do with the meteor shower.” You shrugged.

The new depth of your voice wasn’t disconcerting anymore and seeing him walking around in your body was fine, as long as he wasn’t screwing anything up, you could care less.

“Maybe.” He hummed in response.

“You know I still hate you.” You said, but you weren’t sure.

You wanted it to be that way, desperately, but nothing could be the same after whatever this was, was over. You wanted to go back to hating Seokjin’s guts.

“I do too.” He responded, but there was a lack of bite.

“I hate you. I hate your arrogant ass, your ego, and your guts.” You rolled over, locking eyes with him.

He was gazing at you, amusement in his features. You thought that you should look amused more often. Since the feud broke out, you usually wore a scowl or frown.

“But I hate myself more for being jealous of you.” You pointed at him. “Don’t you understand? Having an ego is a blessing. Being arrogant is a privilege. Normal people don’t get to just go around, brag about their accomplishments and be rewarded for that.”

He laughed softly, the high pitched noise tingling your ears. There were parts of him that showed through, even when he was in your body.

The first was his mannerisms. They were always more egotistical than what you usually went for. It was like he physically couldn’t choose wording that sounded humble.

The second was his smile. He still smiled the same way, lips peeling back to reveal pearly white teeth. It looked so unnatural on your face, but it suited him, always had.

The third and final one was his laugh. He would still laugh the same squeaky windshield wiper laugh. It was contagious.

The man stood and took your finger, which was still pointed at him, and slowly lowered it. He wrapped his hands around your own and held on tightly.

“Now why would you be jealous of me?”

You forgot his eyes. Despite them being yours, his eyes did not change. In his eyes, you saw sincerity, an emotion you once thought too complex for him.

“I’ve lived in your body for well over a week, Jin. You have a busy schedule and I’m exhausted at the end of every day, but...there’s security in that. You don’t have to feel like you’re hanging onto the end of a string that’s about to break 24/7.”

He nodded, seemingly mulling over your words.

“I’m jealous of you, Y/N.” The man said. It was so odd seeing words forming from your lips that you had not made. “I’m jealous of the way you can do what you like, the way you can speak your mind and no one cares. I’m jealous that you can make the music you want. Y/N, I’m jealous because your lyrics are beautiful, meaningful, and you’re allowed to sing them.” He continued on gently.

“You saw my lyrics?” Your throat went dry.

Those lyrics were your safe haven. They had been invaded by foreign eyes, yet you didn’t really mind it. He was in your body, living your life. He would have found it sooner or later.

“Yes, I did.” He dropped your hands. “I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t-”

“No, Jin, it’s...it’s okay.” You smiled. Your gaze wandered, trying to looked anywhere but him.

“Now where do we go from here?”

“We just do our best, I think, roll with the punches.”

“The awards show is only a week away.”

“Then we do our best.”

“And if we don’t ever change back?”

“Jin,” You caught him firmly in your gaze. He froze and you wondered if that’s really what you looked like when you blushed. “We’ll do our best and everything will work itself out, I’m sure of it.”

“I trust you, then.”

The makeup artist brushed another streak of gold across your cheekbones. You held perfectly still.

“Almost done!” The artist squeaked, brushing over your chin now. The fine tips of the brush tickled your face and the gold dust floating through the air made you want to sneeze.

The roar of the crowd was a dull thud in the background next to your heartbeat. You were up next, the act before you just finished up. You could see the stage and the lights set for your turn.

You had spent the past week memorizing every detail, memorizing the lyrics, practicing your instrument of choice. It had been hectic, but it would be worth it. You were going to show the world you were a changed person. You took a deep breath, shaking out your arms and legs as the makeup artist drifted away.

You tried not to sweat or breathe too heavily as the large screens lit up to announce the next artist. As much as you wished it was your name showing up on that screen, it was not. Your name would be later in the program. No, right now, you were Kim Seokjin, superstar, worldwide handsome, and the most awaited performance of the night.

“Kim. Seok. Jin.” The announcer said, letting the stadium fill with cheers. You could only ever dream of this success and you thanked Jin for lending you his body.

On the stage, a grand piano rose to the top. It was empty, just waiting for someone to play it. You knew he was watching in the audience, waiting for his song to play, waiting to see how you sang it. You were thankful his vocal capabilities carried over to you through his body. You walked on stage and it was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. The audience was rightfully confused.

The past week, you had been brainstorming a way to make his piece stand out against the generic pop songs of the others. Blaring music just didn’t seem...it didn’t seem right for this song. It deserved a slower, more subtle production. So you set about learning it on piano. You had practiced until well into the morning every night and you were exhausted, but you knew it by heart.

You sat on the bench, the wood creaking loudly. It was like the audience had faded away and you were alone, practicing over and over, singing until you couldn’t any more. You smoothed out your pants and took a deep breath, hands hovering above the keys. Then you looked at the camera and gave his signature wink. Which led to a roll of laughter and shrieks from the crowd. Then it went quiet once more. You could have sworn you heard his laugh.

You played the first chord. Then the next. No going back now. Contrary to the audience’s belief, no dancers would come out halfway through, the music wouldn’t suddenly kick in. No, this would be the breather, the quiet song amidst the chaos. You took a deep breath, begging and praying for his godly stable vocals.

“It’s not that I believe it, but that I want to try holding out. Because this is all that I can do.” You began to sing Awake.

The song that helped bring you closer to its creator, the song that reminded you of the beginning of this mess. Yet, it no longer felt like a mess and more like a blessing. You had never thought it would be going on this long, though. Maybe Jin was right, maybe this would be forever? You played the next notes, hands dancing over the keys in a practiced and steady rhythm.

Three Years Ago

“Oh, Jennie, please can you grab my lyrics? I left them on the desk, they’re really messy so you should recognize them!” You called to your friend. She nodded and hurried back inside to fetch the papers.

At BigHit Entertainment, you planned to be a producer, nothing else. You wanted to produce music, make tons of money off royalties, and retire early. That was the plan, until they suggest you try out to be an idol.

You didn’t work well in a group, far too stubborn, so they set you on the solo track. You were currently writing your first album and your debut was coming up fast.

The entirety of your body ached. Your legs were sore from running and your feet hurt from standing all day. Your arms screamed in pain when you tried to lift anything due to the amount of dance practice you’d been in.

The thing that was the worst, was your throat. You weren’t a singer, okay. You sang a bit, but not a ton, and even with vocal lessons, singing for upwards of four hours a day was taxing on your body. The things that really helped were your friends and sleep.

Sadly you got neither of those things. Without being in a girl group, you barely knew anyone and you had maybe four hours of sleep a night with studying and practice. Besides, you had maybe one person you could consider a friend; Jennie. And you had another you could consider a rival.

Kim Seokjin. Multi-talented, sculpted like the gods, and arrogant as shit. He only ever rolled his eyes when you were around and he never had anything nice to say to you or anyone else. He kissed ass as well. Just another thing you hated about him.

Okay, so hate was a strong word, but you very much disliked him. He just never seemed to like your guts, no matter what you did. At first, it had been intimidating, but now it was just annoying.

“Well, well, well, Y/N.” Speak of the devil.

“Just get it over with.” You groaned, turning to face the handsome prick. “What do you want?”

“Just some company.” He said innocently. “I’m waiting for the bus to the dorms as well.” He explained, brushing a hand through his hair.

“Sure. Well, I hope you enjoy silence, because that’s what I love best.” You dug around your bag and withdrew your earbuds.

You plugged in your phone and popped in one bud just as Jennie came running back. She was barely sweating, even after running up and down the stairs for your notes. Cardio was intense for the more dance based girl groups.

“Here you go!” She said, oblivious to the tension around you and Jin.

“Oh thank you.” You shot her a weak smile.

“Bye!” She waved, rushing out the door to her waiting members.

You watched her leave, begging her to stay with your eyes. Once her van was pulling out, you sighed. Great, now you were stuck with Jin. You glanced down at the papers. Oh shit. These are not your papers. You cursed under your breath.

“Whatcha got there, Y/N?” He broke the silence, peering over your shoulder.

You immediately slapped the papers to your chest. What if he thought you were stealing? When could you sneak back and put them away?

“Let me see.” He whined, craning over your shoulder before finally stepping in front of you. “Is it lyrics? It’s okay, I just want to hear!”

“N-no!” You stuttered, folding up the papers. “Just schoolwork I forgot.”

He narrowed his eyes, the playful look gone. Maybe you should have just told the truth.

“Show me what you have in your hands, Y/N.” He said darkly, his voice smooth and monotone.

You felt like a child about to be scolded. When you didn’t respond, he reached forward and plucked it out of your hands.

“Oh I see. So now you’re just stealing from me.”

“What? No!”

“Then why do you have my lyrics in your hands?!”

“I was going to return them I swear!”

“Yeah, right.”

Before you could explain yourself, he strutted outside. “I won’t forget this, Y/N.”

A paper fluttered to the ground and you rushed to pick it up, but he was already gone. The paper was in a puddle and you hurriedly scooped it up. The ink was already ruined. At the top of the page, the words Awake by Kim Seokjin were bleeding down the page.

The audience was hushed, confused by the somber tone. Still, many people had smiles on their faces or perhaps a little tear in their eyes. You continued the song to the end. The melody carried over the quiet stadium like a ghost. The haunting appeal drew more in every second. Televisions from around the world tuned in to watch, eyes glued to the screen. So this is what it feels like to have the world’s eyes on you.

Backstage, Jin watched the performance silently. His eyes remained on the screen, even through his makeup and wardrobe. His own sweet voice pierced the room. Was that how he sounded? He always joked that he was ‘the best singer’ but in his heart, he never believed it. The man smoothed down the dress. It complimented your body well, and he was reminded that this was indeed your body and not his.

Whenever someone called ‘Jin’ or ‘Y/N’, both of you would turn around. It was actually pretty funny to watch. Your agent cursed.

“He’s going to sweep the awards again with a ballsy performance like that.” Lisa muttered.

“I never knew my song could be sung like that.” He murmured. Then he straightened up, playing your part dutifully. “It’s too slow, honestly.” he rolled his eyes and Lisa snickered along with him.

“Half of the staff are sleeping.” Lisa mused, before turning back to check over her list.

Jin took a deep breath. “Lisa.” He turned to the woman, who didn’t even look up. “I want to end the feud with Jin. It’s unnecessary and hurting my career and reputation beyond repair.”

The woman blinked a few times. Then she laughed.

“That’s hilarious. If you can somehow convince Jin to let that happen, then by all means, be my guest, but I’m sure he also realizes how necessary you are to building his career.”

“I’m sure he’ll agree.” He said coldly, lacing his fingers together. Lisa narrowed her eyes before turning back to her list.

“Like I said, only if you can convince him, because I won’t.”

The piano slowly faded to silence. You held your breath, standing and bowing. It was quiet for a moment, then a roll of applause fell over the audience. It felt like waves crashing over your body. You smiled sheepishly, blowing a kiss to the camera for fanservice points. Then you exited the stage where Jin, I mean, you, were getting ready to go on next.

He eyed you as you stepped out. Then, just as you were about to slip by, he grasped your arm.

“Good job.” His voice was quiet. You nodded at his words, taken off guard. He dropped his hand and you softly whispered back.

“I never stole your music, you know.” You said, saying what had been on your mind for the past three years.

“I know.” He said, his grin fading.

“Good.” You said stiffly. “Good luck out there, Y/N.”

He shot you a cocky smile and strutted out on stage.

“For best artist of the year, the nominees are…” The announcer stood on stage, a golden envelope in hand. “Kim Seokjin.”

A roar of applause came from the crowd and fangirls squealed loudly. You winked at the camera and then face forward. A short montage of Jin played on screen.

“Y/L/N Y/N.”

You watched a compilation of yourself and applauded their work. They made you look pretty nice. There was a similar ripple of applause.

“Kim Taehyung.”

The same occurred, but he remained stoic throughout the montage. His eyes flicked warily over between you and Jin.

“And Jeon Jungkook.”

Rinse and repeat.

You held your breath.

“And the winner is…”

You made eye contact with Jin across the way. You were seated directly in front of the stage and he was seated further to the left. He smiled and nodded. You felt your heart rate accelerate. Was it you? It was the last award of the night, it had to be you. And yet, you would never feel that rush of applause, never get to make that speech, because of this stupid curse. Maybe it was your fault for wishing it.

“Y/L/N Y/N!” The announcer shouted and you watched Jin stand from his place.

You watched him step up the stairs careful not to trip on the dress, and take a stand at the microphone. In his hands was a trophy, it’s cool metal gleaming. How many times had you wished to hold that trophy? To feel the weight of it in your hands.

“Hello.” He spoke, the mic rang a little and he chuckled. “It is such an honor to be receiving this award. I would like to thank my parents, for supporting me,” Now that was a bold faced lie, but you let him off the hook.

“My agent, for helping to boost me to success, and all the hardworking staff at BigHit for making this dream come true.”

It was the usual speech. Boring. You would have made it far more memorable. You tried your best not to let jealousy blind you in this moment.

“But my real speech here is for anyone who feels they can’t do what they like. You see, I know a girl who writes beautiful lyrics, lyrics that take you to another dimension and music that does the same.”

“Yet, our industry does not reward simply passion for the craft, it rewards your dedication to your company and the ability to follow directions.”

“We, as artists, need to learn how to inspire confidence in ourselves and others, so that we can make the music we want to.” He took a deep breath. “Your greatest fear...maybe even your greatest enemy,” He found your eyes in the crowd.

“May be your greatest weapon.”

And in that moment, he took a step forward towards the mic and you felt a tugging sensation. You blinked and you were standing at the mic, your eyes trained to the crowd.

You were you again. And you got to enjoy the standing ovation, the swell of the crowd like a rising tide. Yet, your eyes still went to him. You didn’t hate Kim Seokjin anymore.

You admired him, you were jealous of him, but you found yourself liking him. That laugh of his, which you would have thought annoying, was now a tally mark of reasons why you enjoyed his company.

You found him in the crowd, despite the dimness of the lights. He was still seated, getting his bearings. A smile easily made its way onto your face and you met eyes. The man simply smiled at you and raised his glass.

Maybe I, I can never fly I can’t fly like the flower petals over there Or as though I have wings Maybe I, I can’t touch the sky Still, I want to stretch my hand out I want to run Just a bit more

Some people I wanted to tag! @youarejesting @moccahobi @yoongi-sugaglider

#kim seokjin #bts #bts x reader #seokjin #jin #jin x reader #enemies to friends #fluff #angst #A Mile in My Shoes #Platonic!Seokjin #tatawrites #castlebangtan #100 followers celebration #body swap au

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waywardxwords · 3 years

Text

Forever After All

Summary: Sam and Dean return from a long hunt feeling mentally and physically exhausted. You do your best to show Sam that you aren’t going anywhere, and that you’re in it for the long haul--for forever. Sam doesn’t believe in forever, but you hope--one day--you’ll make him a believer.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,376

Warnings: Fluff? No warnings, really.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at the clock hanging on the wall of the kitchen. Tick…tock…tick…tock.

The beep from the oven made you jump—your hair on the back of your neck stood to attention and goosebumps flooded your arms. You brought your hands up to rub at the bumps. You walked to the oven and pulled the door down. You equipped your hands with oven mitts and reached in for the cherry pie.

As you closed the oven and hit the “Off” button, you looked around at the counter tops in the bunker’s kitchen.

Pie, a Greek salad, a pasta dish, steak, a burger for Dean, garlic parmesan mashed potatoes, and chocolate chip cookies. Because even though Sam would say he didn’t want any, you knew you would find him in the kitchen in the middle of the night to sneak one.

You knew you had overdone it, but you also knew the only way you could calm your brain was by cooking and baking. The boys had said they would be back at the bunker by 6:00 PM. It was 9:45 PM. The rational part of your brain knew that they were late all of the time—usually they would call, but still. Maybe they just lost track of time…

Before you could even process another thought, you heard the heavy door to the bunker open. You tried to contain your excitement and anxiousness, but you couldn’t help the slight skip in your step as you hurried to the corridor to catch a glimpse.

Both were vertical—neither looked seriously injured. They both looked like they could use a shower, but otherwise, you were calling this one a win.

“Hi,” you breathed. They both looked up and caught your eye.

“Y/N,” Sam breathed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call. My phone got busted on the hunt, Dean’s too…and the spares were dead…” he trailed off as you took the few steps towards him. You reached on your tip-toes and threw your arms around his neck, your fingers intertwined in his brown locks. Hot tears pooled in your eyes and you squeezed them shut to try to will them to go away.

“It’s okay,” you sighed thankfully. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

You pulled down, your hands cupping his face tenderly on the way down. Your eyes danced between his back and forth to make sure he was really okay—you could always tell.

You reached for Dean next, grasping his shoulder with your hand. “Both of you—I am so thankful you’re both okay.”

Dean smiled a painful smile in your direction and nodded. “I’m gonna take a shower and get changed,” he said.

“Any patchwork needed?” You asked hesitantly. There wasn’t a lot you hated in this world, but cleaning and stitching their wounds was one of them. You had some medical experience, and Sam wouldn’t let you tag along for hunts, so to make yourself feel useful, you cooked enough food to feed a small army and stitched up their wounds when they came back from hunts.

Dean looked down almost to evaluate his injuries before saying, “Nah, just scratches and bruises. Thanks, Y/N.”

As he walked away, you called after him, “Oh! I made dinner—burgers, steak, potatoes…the usual. And pie!” He smiled over his shoulder.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll stop by and grab something after my shower,” he said as he walked into his room and closed his door behind him.

You turned your attention to Sam. His eyes grazed the ground below his feet as he shifted his weight, his backpack hanging loosely off one shoulder. “What about you, babe? What’s your injury situation?” You brought your hand up to his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m all good,” he breathed with a small smile. “I’m gonna go shower, too. I’ll be out in a bit.” He leaned forward to give you a quick peck. That was his way of saying he needed to be alone. You had stopped feeling the weight of disappointment when he wanted some space after a hunt. You understood, and you knew Sam loved you. It still just felt…sad.

“Sounds good,” you managed a small smile. You pushed your hands into your back pockets and walked towards the kitchen. You started to clean up the dishes and utensils you had used to make dinner.

Before starting, you unlocked your iPhone on the countertop. You opened Spotify, and clicked the top song on the list.

As the music started, you turned on the kitchen sink and rolled up your sleeves.

A cold beer’s got 12 ounces, a good truck’s got maybe three hundred thousand

You hummed along with the song as you put a dab of dish soap on the sponge, lathering the dishes in the sink. Your mind drifted—away from hunting, away from cuts and bruises, away from sadness. Memories of happy times—that time the hunt had taken you to the beaches of California, and Sam interlocked your fingers as you ran through the sand to put your toes in the Pacific.

You only get so much until it’s gone, Duracells in a Maglite

Or the time he had taken you out to a field to watch for meteors in South Dakota, and the night ended with the two of you dancing under the stars with music coming from the speakers of the Impala.

The thoughts made a smile pull at the corners of your lips.

A needle drop on a 45, are the kinda things that only last so long

You jumped slightly when you heard Dean clear his throat behind you. “Y/N, seriously, you’re the best.” He breathed as his eyes moved over all of the food you had spent the afternoon cooking. He swung by the sink and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing a clean plate from the drying rack.

“You’re welcome,” you beamed. “Enjoy it. I’m not super hungry but I’m happy to sit with you and eat!” You offered.

“Nah, it’s alright,” he piled his plate with a little of everything, and a lot of pie. “Dr. Sexy has a new episode on tonight so I, uh…” he thumbed towards his bedroom.

You laughed softly with a nod. “No problem, have fun.” You smiled as you turned back to the dishes.

When the new wears off, and they get to getting old; sooner or later, times’ gonna take its toll

As the chorus began, you couldn’t help but move your hips slowly with the melody; your lips moving along as you sang quietly to yourself.

They say nothing lasts forever, but they ain’t see us together

Or the way the moonlight dances in your eyes, just a t-shirt in the kitchen

With no make-up and a million other things that I could look at my whole life

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his arms snake around your waist. You closed your eyes at the smell of his shampoo and aftershave, the flannel that adorned his arms rolled up to his elbows. His head ducked and his lips found their favorite spot on the nape of your neck.

“You scared me,” you breathed as you dropped the sponge and shut off the faucet. You turned in his arms and dried your hands on your pants before placing them softly on Sam’s chest.

“Sorry,” he said softly. His words still felt heavy—you knew his mind was still racing with the outcome of that last hunt, whatever that was. But his eyes looked lighter; calmer.

“Don’t be,” you reached up and touched his face. “You okay?” Your eyes moved back and forth between his; as much as you loved Sam, while he wouldn’t lie to you, you knew he would fib from time to time to protect you.

“Yeah,” he sighed, but his eyes told you he wasn’t. He knew you could tell. He pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapped around your back tighter than they had before. His lips found that same spot on your neck once more.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked quietly as you brought your hands up to his hair to twist the strands around your fingers; you knew well enough that the feeling of you playing with his hair was calming to him.

He shook his head against your skin, bringing his face up once more. “Not really.” You knew what that meant. The hunt hadn’t gone entirely as planned, and while you were thankful your boyfriend and his brother had made it out mostly unscathed, they most likely had lost a victim in the process.

“Okay,” you brushed the tips of your fingers against his cheek. “You want to eat something?”

He smiled at the array of food you had placed out on the counter top. “Not right now. Ya know, you don’t have to make a five-course meal every time we go out to hunt.” He chuckled.

“I know,” a sheepish grin pulled at the corners of your lips. “Busy hands, busy brain…it’s a good distraction sometimes.”

His brows creased a bit as his eyes grazed over your features with concern. He hated worrying you, but it was sort of part of the gig.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed as he moved to turn away from you. He rubbed at his forehead as he slowly walked by the kitchen table. “Seriously, Y/N. I’m just really sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You gave him a moment but he didn’t say anything, his back still facing you. “Hey,” you moved, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and tugged. You weren’t nearly strong enough to make Sam budge—but he still turned towards you. “Talk to me, Sam. Please.”

He ran his hand down his face once more and sighed. “For this…” he waved his hand, his eyes followed around the bunker. “For bringing you into a life you never asked for.” He breathed.

You took a few steps to him and collected his hands in yours. “Hey,” you tried to catch his gaze. “Sam, look at me.” His eyes found yours—you could see the pain, the fear and the uncertainty. “You never asked for this life, either. That’s the thing about life. Sure, we can want things—but life tends to just happen, anyway.”

Sam closed his eyes as you brought your hands to his face, cupping either side of his face tenderly. “It’s different being born into this life and choosing this life, Y/N.”

“Here’s the thing, Sam,” your voice barely above a whisper, but you wanted to be certain he could hear it. “I didn’t choose this life, but I chose you. And if this life comes along with you, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His eyes closed again, almost as if he was disappointed. “Nothing lasts forever, Y/N.”

Your teeth grazed your bottom lip as you pondered. You wanted to do anything to make him know you weren’t leaving; that you wouldn’t go anywhere. You moved your hands to the collar of his flannel, pulling him to you as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Your lips were on his before he had a second to interject. He brought his hands to the hem of your tank top—his fingers moved quickly to grip your warm skin.

“Wait,” he pushed gently, his eyes still closed. “This doesn’t solve anything. I just…I want you to be safe.”

You smiled back at him, your fingers reaching up to his face. “I am safe, because you keep me safe. I’m not afraid, Sam. I don’t want you to be, either.”

Sam’s eyes darted back and forth between yours. His jaw tightened once, twice…and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours. His hands put pressure on your hips as he hoisted you on to the edge of the counter, just in front of the sink. You focused on not tipping backwards, but you knew his hands wouldn’t let you fall. He used his body to push between your legs, your knees separating. As your lips danced together, he pulled back momentarily to work their way down your jawline to your neck. His tongue moved strategically over your sweet spot—the one that made your eyes roll back and close involuntarily.

“Sam,” you breathed. “Sam, wait…” you used everything in your power as you flattened your hands on his chest and pushed slightly. He broke the suction with your skin and looked over you. “Listen, I am seriously enjoying this…trust me. But I really don’t want your brother to walk in on us in the kitchen. It might ruin food for him forever.”

Sam couldn’t help the laugh that fell from his lips. “I don’t think there’s anything in the world that could ruin food for Dean.”

You moved your head from side to side as you contemplated—he was probably right. “But still, can we take this somewhere else?” You couldn’t help the glint in your eyes or the way your teeth pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and bit down gently.

His lips widened in a smile. “We can do that.”

He lifted your hips off of the counter top and lowered you so your feet were back on the floor. Sam’s hand found yours, fingers locking together. You followed as he led you to his bedroom, closing the door and escorting you to the edge of the bed you had shared together for over a year now. As you sat, you watched him slowly unbutton the clean shirt he had just put on.

“Hey,” you breathed and reached for his hand. “Listen, I know you believe nothing lasts forever…” you looked down as you played with his fingers, your fingertips tracing small circles over the top of his hand. “But can you accept that you are my forever, and I’m yours?”

He broke his eye contact with you with a breath. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “For now, I can accept that.” He whispered.

“I’ll take it,” you smiled. Your lips returned to his, just as his hand cupped your face.

A love like that makes a man have second thoughts, maybe some things last forever after all

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you have any feedback!

#sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #oneshot #supernatural one shot

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fieryfantasybooklover · 4 years

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Lightning And Thunder - A Sanders Sides Fic

Ships: Anxciet, Royality, Intrulogical

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“Virgil! Come on you’re gonna be late!”

“Well, Pat, have you considered my likely lateness is because I don’t want to come?”

Patton shot Virgil a disappointed look as he attempted to yank the anxious side out the door. “Oh come on Virge. Even you can’t deny that you need a break and a few laughs.”

“Well, why does this have to be the place where I get the fun?”

Patton, Logan, and Roman had been working together to plan a night of fun and games for all the sides. Logan had only agreed because he believed it would strengthen group bonds, Roman wanted to show off his musical skills, and Patton just wanted snacks and everyone to be happy. Janus protested but quickly gave in, and Remus maintained a “whatever” attitude. So, here they were, a few days later, gathering for a night of activities. Eventually, Patton managed to drag Virgil to the living room and shove several different snacks into his arms. Patton then proceeded to launch a sneak attack on Roman, seizing him in a bear hug and peppering his face with kisses as the creative side stammered and blushed, before turning back on Patton and also launching a kiss attack.

Virgil, smirking and gnawing on a shortbread cookie, dropped onto the couch next to Janus, pointedly facing the other direction even as his face warmed. The two fought nearly always, and it only intensified when Logan and Remus finally got together. The pair was currently murmuring quietly to each other while seemingly making the final preparations. They completed each other impossibly well, and neither had been happier then since they got together. Logan was always smiling and laughing, an occasion that was now commonplace. Even Remus had a happier air, and his pranks had downgraded from malicious chaos causing to harmless pranks. With Patton and Roman together and infinitely sweet, and Logan and Remus happy, the only ones left were Virgil and Janus. Both starkly refused the chances of getting together, pushing past and stubbornly ignoring the clearly romantic based fighting, the red faces, and the stammering.

“Virgil? Yes you I’m talking to you!” Virgil jolted and looked around for the source of the voice, mouth widening in shock when he realized it was Janus. “Yeah? What do you want.”

“There is no need to be that way. I just wanted to ask you how you are.” Janus’s smirk only intensified as Virgil’s face grew redder. “I’m fine! And I already know that you are gonna say something snarky or assholeish if I ask you how you are so I’m not going to bother!” Virgil whipped around, face burning, trying his best to avoid staring at Janus unconsciously any more than he already did. In fact, he turned so fast he missed the mild blushing on Janus’s own face.

“He’s a jerk. A mean, stuck-up, definitely not funny, hot-” Virgil was snapped out of his sudden stupor and inner rant by Patton’s loud, happy yell. “Alright kiddos, it’s time to get started! Take a seat and the games shall begin.” Thus began a night of fun and laughter. Roman and Patton tackled each other multiple times on the mobile games, laughing and shrieking all the way down, leaving Logan, Virgil, Janus, and Remus to be the witnesses. All shared a similar mindset watching this, something along the lines of “They’re adorable dorks. Adorable, but dorks. Oh well, gotta love them.” Logan and Remus had many hilarious interactions, leading to a constant source of amusement for everyone else. Even a few weeks ago, Logan would have stormed off and Remus wouldn’t have even been there. But now, both only joined in laughing and gave the other a kiss to spectacular applause.

As the night proceeded, the games got crazier, as did they. Everyone, even Logan and Virgil, had ingested unholy amounts of sugar. So, when Roman slyly suggested spin the bottle, there was no objection. Had Virgil’s mind been clearer, he would have spotted the clear attempt at a set up and avoided it. However, he didn’t. So, when they all stretched out on the floor, Remus with his arm around Logan and Patton cuddling against Roman, Virgil and Janus begrudgingly sat down next to each other.

The bottle was spun several times, leading to gentle platonic cheek kisses between Patton and Logan, Remus and Patton, and Janus and Remus. However, when the bottle, spun by Janus slowed to a stop pointing at Virgil, both choked on air and turned bright red. “Oh come on! He can get one respin right? Guys, come on!” Logan, barely hiding a smirk, nodded to Janus and he spun again. When the bottle once again stopped on Virgil, Roman spoke up. “Well, it seems like destiny is sending you a message Virgil! You must embrace it, or you shall perish!”

“Calm down, this is spin the bottle not a quest to save the world.”

“I’m with Roman on this one kiddo! It seems pointless to fight anyway. Just one kiss and it’s done!”

“Come on Virgil, just do it.” Remus rolled his eyes as he replied. “And truly, if this didn’t mean anything, you wouldn’t be fighting it so much. If it helps, we could leave.”

Virgil, clearly close to snarling but turning bright red at the same time, gave in and turned to Janus. “Just to be clear, this means nothing.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Janus replied, somehow still managing to smirk as the others filed out of the room and shut the door. Virgil and Janus stood and faced each other. Virgil, realizing he would have to start, ran his hands through his hair quickly, before quickly leaning over and kissing Janus.

--Janus POV--

Janus was unprepared for Virgil to kiss him all of a sudden. Of course, he really should have expected it. But, it was just so sudden. What he wasn’t prepared for even more so though, was the creatures that roared to life inside him at Virgil’s touch.

As the two kissed, the rest of the world fell away. To both, it seemed impossible that one single action could contain so much. In that one perfect, ethereal moment, lightning struck and thunder roared. Wind roared and howled, and meteors struck Earth as both Virgil and Janus rocketed to cloud 9. Hurricanes slammed into shore as euphoria roared through both of them at impossible levels. “Oh. So this is how it’s supposed to feel.” was the only musterable thought from either of them in that second. Surprised his bones hadn’t liquified already, Virgil raised his hands and ran them through Janus’s hair, the other’s hat long since discarded to the floor. Janus gripped Virgil’s face as gently as possible, before responding in full force. This would likely have continued for much longer, had Remus not hammered on the door and shouted “Don’t forget, you’re not alone, lovebirds!”

--Virgil POV (sort of)--

Virgil and Janus broke apart, both impossibly red in the face with hair all askew. Avoiding Janus’s gaze, Virgil strode to the door and flung it open, nearly hitting the others in the face. It could not have been clearer that they had been hovering near the door and waiting for them to emerge. “Remus, and I mean this is the kindest way, fuck off.” Virgil snapped as he practically ran to the kitchen, trying to hide his blush. Remus just roared with laughter as Patton admonished Virgil for language. Roman, shaking his head in exasperation, planted a tender kiss on Patton’s head before murmuring to him and heading down the hall towards the rooms.

Logan, who just tossed Virgil an all-knowing grin, gently turned Remus and led him down the hall, tossing one last “goodnight” to everyone there. Virgil was left alone with Patton. “I’m happy for you kiddo. I can already see it in your eyes. You’re glowing.” Virgil, unable to muster a response to that, just stood there as Patton also vanished down the hall. Finally, it was just him and Janus, who had just now emerged from the room, fingering his hat in his hands.

“Well-” Janus started, but was immediately cut off by Virgil. “Don’t mention it. I’ll see you tomorrow, my little bumblebee.” And now it was Virgil’s turn to smirk as Janus turned bright red and stuttered. Turning, Virgil threw a final “night” over his shoulder, chuckling and blushing at the “Night, my little thundercloud.” he received in return.

That night, both Virgil and Janus would lay awake, reliving that single moment. Reliving it and wondering how something could be so perfect, so wondrous, so world-shattering. That experience, that feeling, would be the last thing either thought before they drifted into the world of sleep. And even then, even in their dreams, a smile would hover on their faces and pink would linger on their face. The feeling and the remembrance was shocking and new each time it hit them again, sending more waves of unnatural happiness through them, coloring their dreams with vibrant rainbow shades. The cloud of highly concentrated joy would hover over the house for several more weeks, as Virgil and Janus allowed themselves to express all the love that had been pent up for so long. And as the others watched, hugged their love close, they smiled with quiet happiness and offered their silent, encouraging cheers.

#Anxciet #intrulogical #Royality #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #cute #kiss #fluff #cursing tw #Sanders sides #megans writing

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dlamp-dictator · 3 years

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Allen X Rambles about Chapter 7

“I hope Episode 7 is focused on only 2 or three characters with little distraction... Amiya maybe finding out that Ch’en is slowly becoming Infected and helping her come to terms with that. Ch’en revealing her past to Amiya and the two connecting over losing so many close to them due to Oripathy. The two standing up to the political corruption of Lungmen, shoulder to shoulder, as women that refuse to see another life lost due to the indifference of a city’s politics.”

-Allen X, October 2nd, 2020, Rambling about Chapter 6

Man... I’m starting to believe it when they say Arknight’s story mode is longer than the Harry Potter series. Things are getting crazy in Chapter 7 and crazy-long to in terms of length. This chapter really had me on the edge of my seat as I read through it and as I played through because 7-16 and 7-18 were a bitch to get through that require some of the most precise timing I’ve seen in this game yet. That aside, I enjoyed a lot what I read and experienced.

And I wanted to talk about it a bit.

But first, as always, a synopsis.

Coming off the heels of Frostnova’s death and the realization of Wei Yenwu’s purging of the Lungmen slums, tensions are high and trust has been fractured between Rhodes Island and Lungmen. However, in the midst of Ch’en hot temper and Amiya’s cool head, Reunion is plans to send the Russian Ursusian city of Chernobog on a collision course with Hong Kong Lungmen, giving Ursus a cause to make war against Lungmen and its great region of Tawain China Yen. However, through some rather amazing political maneuvering and passionate words by Wei Yenwu’s wife Fumizuki, Rhodes Island agrees to mobilize in order to save Lungmen, the Infected, and the beloved daughter of Lungmen, Ch’en. But beyond Chernobog lies Patriot, Reunions greatest commander next to Talulah herself, who’s rage toward his daughter’s death is only matched by his disciplined mind and even more disciplined soldiers. It’s a fight to the center of the Chernobog to save as many lives as possible, even at the cost of this great general’s life.

An Addendum to 7-18

So between my venting about 7-18 when I talked about some fun Arknight’s lore a handful of people wanted to give me some advice on how to conquer that stage. Admittedly that venting was said out of anger and was much more acidic in tone than my usual essays and opinion pieces. I have since beaten that stage and I can give some of my thoughts on this advice. Some of it was helpful... some of it.

“AmIyA cAn TaNk PaTrIoT’s SpEaR tOsS!”

This is technically true and I was technically wrong. When Amiya’s S3 is active she gained increased Max HP and can in fact survive with a sliver of health. However, Amiya’s S3 takes quite a long time to charge even with her talent, and unless someone is actively blocking Patriot her can honestly spam his spear through for how long it takes Amiya to get prepped for her S3. This is more of an issue of Amiya’s balancing than with the game, but I’ll talk about that later.

“jUsT sTaLl PaTrIoT tO kEeP hIm FrOm UsInG tHe SpEaR tOsS!”

This would be pretty viable advice if Patriot didn’t one-shot my units. Yes, defenders like Cuora, Nian, Hoshigumi, and even tankier vanguards like Zima and Siege can tank at least one hit from Patriot without dying, meaning a squad of healers can just focus-fire on them while they do chip damage to Patriot and stall him out. However, Patriot’s phase 2 has him do constant damage to nearby units with his aura ability, so if he can get lucky enough, he take someone down to a sliver and let his poison damage finish off your staller before they get a chance to be healed. That strategy needs luck and some damn smart unit placement. Neither of which I honestly have.

“uSe SpEcTeR aNd DeBuFfErS!”

Again, this is also a pretty good strategy. Specter’s S2 makes her immortal for a limited time and pairing that with healers like Breeze and Celycon who reduce stun damage isn’t a bad idea. Characters that ignore or lower defense like Pramanix, Shamare, and Meteor are also good. This doesn’t work for me however since I only have Pram and the other debuffers are way too underleveled and not on my priority at the moment, and E2-ing units this late in the game just to take out one boss feels like madness.

“f12 CaN dOdGe ThE sPeAr ToSs!”

F12, W, Jessica, and FEater have a dodge chance. Their dodges are not guarantees. Yes, Patriot will target the ranged operator furthest from him and there are range tiles pretty close to his spawn point for that purpose. However, some of those operators have some pretty damn expensive DP costs and waste that on a chance to survive isn’t worth.And feeding Patriot ranged units that take over 30 seconds to redeploy is a waste of DP in general. And those either dodge chances aren’t viable. Them surviving isn’t a strategy, it’s a fluke, and you can’t depend on flukes in auto-deployment.

“Allen, you’re being kind of an asshole to what’s actually sound advice.”

Yes, I am.

I don’t care.

7-18 does things to a person, man. That stage breaks people. I lost sanity IRL just doing that stage or 20 times with a guide... dear lord this stage.

Anyway, moving on.

Story Notes

My, this story sure was thick, wasn’t it? It’s been while since I’ve been on a ride that wild. And this time around I don’t have any small issues to bring up. All the characters felt in character without breaking my suspension of disbelief. There weren’t multiple character arcs going on at once. And I even tolerated Kal’tsit berating the Doctor for reasons beyond his understand since she wasn’t discussing too many things that were above my head as the player.

No... I only have big issues.

But before that, I wanted to hit on some actual important notes that were very good and smartly written.

Rosmontis and Child Soldiers

This was probably the biggest takeaway for me. I know the Arknights community likes to poke a lot of fun about the child soldier thing and how Kal’tsit is harboring slave children, but... man, it makes so much since now.

These kids aren’t just kids, they’re all infected people with some rather scary abilities. Popukar has a history of mental instability coupled with monstrous strength. Ifrit has powers she can just barely keep under control and could set Rhodes Island ablaze at any point. Frostleaf and GreyThroat are deeply traumatized from their past. The Ursus Self Government are full of kids with hatred, resentment, and fear of both the world and themselves. The list goes on, but the fact is that these kids all either have abilities that would be a danger to themselves and others if they aren’t trained, or have emotional hang-ups that might very well have them lash out at innocent people if not put on a leash. Wouldn’t it be better to at least give them some training and let them hack and blast away at the actual bad guys? Wouldn’t it be better to at least make them a weapon for some kind of greater good? And would anyone else really treat these broken, powerful children as anything but weapons and warriors anyway?

I know this is about chapter 7, but I remember in Children of Ursus Rosa asked Zima why she fought, and Zima casually answered that she just liked fighting. It’d be far better to have someone with that mindset working for an organization like Rhodes Island than ending up in Ursus’s fold and blindly hacking at something she shouldn’t.

And I think it’s important to remind everyone that Amiya is the head of Rhodes Island and not Kal’tsit. She’s a big part of the organization, but it’s the bunny in charge. And the bunny that is herself close to a living nuke and is also has empathetic superpowers understands this probably better than anyone else, which is why she okays it.

Patriot and Reunion

As much as I despise, and I do mean despise, how cagey this series can be with it’s portrayal of Reunion’s morality I can understand why a lot of its members can see the group as being just. Patriot is a warrior of such renown and praise, and Talulah has so much charisma and power that I can see the group overlooking characters like Mephisto and W when the other two do so much for their members and general people. The Guerillas under Patriot behave like soldiers. They don’t rampage, loot, pillage, or harm everyone in sight, only those that halt, stagnant, and harm the infect. Talulah has a charisma about her and attracts people, and seems to come from some sort of royal/noble line to match. And while Faust wasn’t mentioned much in this chapter, he was a soldier that started at the bottom, worked his way to the top, and made sure to play by rules that kept his moral high ground. Mephisto seems to be the only outliner here for some baffling reason.

But... there are some major issues with this story. I hint at them every time I talk about Arknights’ story, but I’ll go into depth here. And I’ll present these two issues I have in the form of a two question:

Who is the Doctor?

I don’t mean this the sense of the story, but what is his function as a character? Is he a self-insert for the player, or his own character to be explored and examined?

And either answer, to me, is wrong.

The Doctor Isn’t a Self-Insert

It’s straight up impossible for the Doctor to be a self-insert character. Most self-inserts are blank enough to let us place our own personality onto them and the situations their in the choices they make are meant to be more or less choices we’d make or at least a general audience could make barring some specifics. Their personalities tend to be blank or at least bland to let us, the players, live through them and project our personalities onto them.

The Doctor isn’t this.

There are too many moment where our choices are clearly pointing to one conclusion and most choices, though varied, give a clear idea that the Doctor is someone that care about the operators’ wellbeing deeply and hates seeing them used, abused, or manipulated. They are strategist and commander, but they have enough humanity to not see people as tools. They are passionate when they see other operators and especially Amiya in harms way and tries to come up with strategies to minimize lost and causalities. Awhile we, the player, feel the same in this regard the Doctor has dialogue that feels more conversational and toward specific directions than what a player would likely want and gives us some bits and piece about what they’re actually like.

The Doctor hates Kal’tsit and wants little to do with her, only tolerating her presence as much as she is with the Doctor. The Doctor is a bit of a bleeding heart that doesn’t fully grasp that they are constantly in a warzone despite their strategic competency. The Doctor has an extremely weird diet and eating style, devouring live animals and ingesting foods that would probably need to be probably mixed and brewed before consumption. The Doctor still sees Amiya as a child despite her mature nature.

The list goes on, but there’s enough there for me to say the Doctor is more like Hakuno Kishinami of the Fate/Extra series, a character that seems like a self-insert but has a number of traits and character tics that keep them from fulfill that role. However Fate/Extra, for all I have against it, makes Hakuno work by giving them their own internal thoughts outside of the player’s actions that explain their dialogue choices and actions outside of the player’s control. The Doctor doesn’t, so them being a self-insert feels really weak and irritating when the dots stop connecting.

But despite this...

The Doctor Isn’t Their Own Character

Too much of what the Doctor does is passive. For a clear as their personality is, at least to me, they don’t have much agency in the plot. Not enough for me to call them their own character at least. They commander the battlefield, but they don’t have a place on it. They don’t have much reason to interact with characters like Patriot and Talulah unless its on the metaphorical and literal chessboard we’re playing on.

Every time the Doctor says something that advances the plot in some way I feel like it could be said by another character and work better. Amiya trying talk down Patriot and explain that Frostnova fought bravely did not need the Doctor’s interjections, especially when Patriot shoots them down in the same manner. In chapter 6, being trap with Frostnova would had worked much better with Amiya since that chapter was giving them parallels anyway. The only thing that really works is the Doctor trying to call out Kal’tsit for her treatment of Rosmontis as a soldier despite her age, as that’s only something that someone who didn’t have the full context could do.

But... Jessica, Frostleaf, Frostnova, Melantha and several other Operators are young teenagers and even children. Specter and Lappland are clearly just as mentally damaged and still going into battles. The Doctor knows the kinds of people that fight for Rhodes Island, so isn’t this just another young fighter like Popukar and Suzuran? Hell, in chapter 6 we canonically had Beagle and Fang in a stage where they had to fight and tank Faust, why is the Doctor so surprised that someone like Rosmontis exist and works for Rhodes Island?

See?

See how trying to give this character separation from being a self-insert and actively slot them in the active story does more harm than good?

I think games like Girls Frontline and Honkai Impact 3rd do this better, where the player character is clearly more behind the scenes and is only a passing influence, if any.

But that leads me to my next question, which is...

Who is Amiya?

Amiya falls into the trope of being a cute anime girl with a mysterious past and dangerous powers. More accurately, she has a mysterious past and powers to the player, but everyone in Amiya’s inner circle seems to have a clue about it. I don’t mind this being a mystery, but... when our main character’s plot revolves around things the player doesn’t know, it’s curious at best, and infuriating at worse.

Folks, I’m not someone that looks to theory-crafting. I’m not someone that reads every scrap of dialogue in this game to find out more about its lore. The lore, to me, is just fun and interesting. I honestly do not have the time and energy to spend on making theories and predictions that could be wrong and a waste of mental energy. However, with all this stuff about the King of Fiends just feels like a waste of time, or at least a last minute addition to something I could had been added properly in Chapter 8.

A lot of it feels like you had to know about the Darknight Memoir side story to really get a feel for what’s going on. The Sarkaz civil war, Theresa, W’s role back when Rhodes Island was Babel, a lot of things that don’t come up in the main storyline. Especially with that bombshell about the Doctor maybe killing Theresa.

I don’t like it when a story expects me to have read the spinoff to understand the mainline story. This is why I don’t like the Dragon Age series and I’m really getting annoyed with Arknights right now.

This bombshell of the King of Fiends also kind of sours a bit of Amiya’s character as this young child who rose through the ranks of Rhodes Island as a charismatic leader being able to steel optimism with the reality of war to forge ahead as a proper leader through her abilities as both a commander and an empath. Instead it’s beginning to come across that her skills as a leader comes from something more supernatural, or at least something more forced than "small child is a good leader and can lead an army,” which is surprisingly more believable and nuanced given how seriously the series takes Amiya’s character.

That said, I recognize this criticism is more my wish of what was rather than an issue of what is. I completely understand that essentially wishing for my own fanfic and limited fan theories to come true isn’t a sound criticism, but it's a criticism I have regardless.

But moving on, there’s one more issue that bugs me.

W’s Importance

I’ll keep this brief since I already discussed my bigger issues of the story and this is an admittedly small portion of the story:

W wasn’t utilized much in this story despite being a main feature of it in the promotional material. She has a pretty lengthy intro, disappears from the story for most of it, then reappears at the last bits of chapter 7 to make mean looks at Kal’tsit and the Doctor before being literally shoved offscreen again. I’ve already discussed my issues with the Doctor’s agency so I won’t bother here.

W’s banner should had been during Darknight Memoir, it just makes more sense given she was the feature character of it and her high physical damage would had been a goodsend among all the arts-resistant Sarkaz units of that series of chokepoint-heavy maps, similar to Weedy’s inclusion her is helpful as a lot of these maps could use a good pusher, especially 7-16.

Speaking of, Weedy, the other operator on this limited banner, has no presence in the story at all. Need I remind you in the last limited banner Aak and Hung at least had cameo-esque appearances in the Ancient Forge event. Weedy’s inclusion feels like an afterthought because they didn’t want the limited 6-Star to have a good chance to be pulled for the whales.

Anyway, I believe those are all the big issues I had with this story, so...

In the Future

As I always tend to say, I don’t like the idea of trying to fix something that has already been made and has already passed. It’s too late to change the past, but I see nothing wrong with asking for things to happen in the future as a way of giving feedback.

To that end, I still have hope that Chapter 8 will have a focus on Amiya and Ch’en tackling Talulah together. From my understanding of some spoilers this is more or less what is going to happen. I also hope that we’ll have a more detailed idea on this whole King of Fiends thing is about. As much as I personally don’t care for it, it’s already be discussed in the story so I at least hope we get the full idea on what’s going on with that plotline.

I also hope the Doctor either plays less a role or becomes their own character outright away from any player influence. Us speaking through a character that already has a personality feels weird to me and I’d rather not have it at all.

Anyway, that’s it for me folks. Next time... maybe I’ll talk about anime or something, who knows.

#your dictator is speaking #arknights

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