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captainkurosolaire · 3 years

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I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!

Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)

@eligos-venator

- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.

@mischiefandmystics

- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.

@mishivymendi

- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.

@asymphonyofash

- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.

@lavender-hemlock

- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)

@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes

under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full

head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.

#I acknowledge you #Love you #Keep doing you #Asks answered #I'm the one guy who's never not going to be filtered or unspoken #To many people have left or been broken #Don't you ever think about it.#There's so many many more #But I'll recharge for next time

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winterhawk-olympic-bang · 3 years

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Writer’s Workshop: How To End Your Story

How To End Your Story

Guest Poster: Flawedamythyst

We’re in the final furlong before the deadline for the first draft now, so it feels like a good time to talk about endings, and how to bring your story together to create a satisfactory one.

Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

How To End Your Story

There are traditionally six types of endings for a story:

Resolved ending - one with no lingering questions or loose ends. (Most murder mysteries and romances fall into this category.)

Unresolved ending - the kind of ending that leaves the reader with more questions than answers. (Usually for books that are part of a series. A lot of the HP books have endings like this.)

Expanded ending - expands the world of the story beyond the events of the narrative itself, with a time jump forward or a change in PoV.

Unexpected ending - a twist ending that the reader doesn’t see coming, but that should seem inevitable in hindsight.

Ambiguous ending - one that’s open to interpretation. Unlike an unresolved one, it leaves things to be interpreted by the reader so they have to decide themselves how it goes.

Tied ending - that brings the story full circle, and ends exactly where it began. Often the case for ‘Hero’s Journey’ type stories, where the hero ends up back home at the end.

You can read more about them here: https://boords.com/storytelling/how-to-end-a-story or here: https://www.masterclass.com/articles/ways-to-end-your-story but also in multiple other articles online just by Googling ‘Six Ways To End A Story’.

But, of course, they don’t really tell you how to work out which one your story needs, or how to write one of them without falling into any of the traps that ends with an unsatisfying ending.

Motivation

Of course, often the hardest bit with an ending is actually getting there. Losing motivation is so easy, especially when you’re writing something super-long. I know lots of people get motivation by posting as they go and using comments/kudos as a spur, or even just by talking about it on Tumblr or other places and letting other people’s excitement buoy them up, but a Bang event like WHOB doesn’t allow for that.

I’m going to talk a bit about ways to motivate yourself when you’re having to keep things secret from all but a handful of people, but bear in mind that this is something that really is very individual. Everyone writes for different reasons, and so everyone’s path to staying motivated is different.

For me, I think it comes down to focusing on why am I writing this story to start with? Any time I feel myself flagging, I think back to that reason and re-capture the original feeling I had about it. Often there’s a couple of different reasons.

For example, when I was writing Look What The Cat Dragged In, my motivations when I wrote the first line were:

I want all of fandom to share with me the image of the Winter Soldier waking Clint up to threaten him while gently cradling a kitten in his hands, and

I was writing it as a present for @kangofu-cb.

So, if I flagged at all, I was able to either reread that moment with Bucky holding the kitten and think ‘wow, I really do thing people will enjoy this mental image’, or I was able to think ‘I want my friend to have a nice thing’, and that helped me drive on and push through.

A lot of my personal motivations come down to ‘I want to share this scene/witty one-liner/visual of Clint pole dancing while dressed as Captain America with people’, so often just rereading what I’ve already done is really motivating for me, plus it also gives me the chance to see just how much I’ve already done, and what I would be dooming to be unfinished if I just walked away without pushing through.

You might well have different motivations though, which are equally valid. Maybe you started a fic for this event because you wanted to get a shiny badge, or to do something that your friends were doing, or you wanted to prove to yourself that you could write something longer than usual or outside of your usual wheelhouse. It may feel harder now than it did when you had that first idea, but that doesn’t change why you wanted to do it, and it’s actually easier now than it was when you started, because you’ve already done some of it.

And, if none of those motivations work for you, there’s always spite. ‘Oh, my brain gremlins think I can’t finish this? Fuck those guys, I’m going to prove those assholes so very, very wrong’ is completely how I powered through to finish my first ever novel-length fic, a million years and several fandoms ago.

Resolution vs Ending

So, let’s move on to the ending itself.

There are two parts to writing an ending: there’s the plot resolution and how that all gets tied up, and there’s the actual ending of the fic - the last scene, and the last place the reader sees the characters.

Sometimes the resolution happens only at the very end of a story and so those are the same thing, but I tend to think that makes things feel a bit abrupt. Especially for fics, which tend to be more character-driven than mainstream media and so need a wind down on how the characters react to the end of the plot for the reader. (This isn’t always true, of course, some plots do tie up neatly in the final scene. Every story is different and you’re the person best placed to judge what’s needed in your fic.)

So when you’re thinking about the ending, think about both parts. ‘How does this plot resolve itself?’ and ‘where do I want to leave these characters in the readers’ mind’s eye?’

Plotting a Story Resolution

You may well have already got a resolution worked out as part of your planning, but what if that ending doesn’t seem to fit any more, or you realise just as you get to it that you forgot to think about an ending at all and have no idea where to go?

First of all, don’t panic! If the rest of the story is there, you’ll be able to pull together the strands to create the best ending. Trust the bones of your story.

When I’m facing a blank page and no real idea of how I’m getting from the Depths of Despair moment to the happy ending, the first thing I do is reread the whole story in case that sparks a fantastic, fully-formed idea to appear on how to tie it all up. Mostly that doesn’t work, which is always disappointing, but it’s still a good place to start, because you have the whole run of the fic fresh in your head to plan from.

The next thing I do is make a list of all the things that I know definitely need to happen for the plot to be done. These don’t need to be in any particular order at this point and they don’t need to link up, you just need a list of what needs to go into the framework, however minor. ‘Clint wears Bucky’s hoodie and Bucky is smitten’ is a totally valid plot point to include, or even ‘include mention of recurring joke about muffins’. If you know something needs to be resolved but you don’t know how yet, just putting ‘resolve plot point with badgers’ is fine. Hopefully once you’ve started thinking through all the different bits, you’ll work out what’s going to happen to the badgers, and it’ll make sure you know it needs to be included somewhere.

If you have a beta/cheer reader who can help, it’s also super helpful to ask them what they would expect from the ending based on what they’ve read so far, or what elements from earlier in the story they think will be coming back/will turn out to be foreshadowing. Sometimes you’ll find you’ve written the clues to your ending into the earlier bits without really noticing, and you can throw them down on the list to be included as well.

Once you have everything you know needs to be included, you can shift them around into a rough order you think they need to go in, and start filling in the gaps. For example, if ‘Clint gets injured’ is there, you can add in ‘Bucky tends to his wounds’ as the obvious next step and maybe that would be a good time to throw in a muffin joke, and then Clint might need to borrow a hoodie if his shirt has blood on it, so you can tick those bits off as well.

It gets easier to see where the gaps are once you have it written out, even if it’s only things that you already knew would need to happen. Having it down in black and white helps your brain to move pieces around like a jigsaw puzzle, and start extrapolating on what comes in the gaps between.

Make The Ending Fit The Story

Think about what kind of story it’s been so far, and make sure that the ending you come up with fits in with it.

You’ll know the general feeling that you wanted for the fic when you started writing, so that will give you a solid idea on how the ending needs to go. (Often for me this feeling is ‘schmoopy and loved up’, because I’m a softie. A lot of what I’m doing when I’m writing a fic is just clearing out of the way any obstacles that are going to get in the way of my characters being schmoopy and loved up. When there’s nothing left in the way, that’s when I know it’s the end of the story.)

You also need to keep the tone and pacing of your fic the same, and make sure that your ending matches up so it all feels like it fits together. This includes keeping the pace the same as it had been, no matter how tempting it is to rush through so you can get the thing finished already, or slow right down so you can add in a few thousand more words.

Along with sticking to the tone you’ve set for the fic, try not to genre-shift - if you’ve written an action-packed zombie apocalypse fic, resolving the plot with domestic schmoop isn’t a great idea. The reader is invested in the style of story that you’ve written so far, so pulling the rug out on them will only give them whiplash, a vague sense of dissatisfaction or a persistent nagging feeling that zombies are about to attack.

Unless you’ve written a domestic schmoop zombie AU of course, in which case I would read the hell out of it. ‘Curtain!fic but sometimes the undead interrupt’ sounds like a lot of fun.

And finally, make sure you maintain your characterisation. If the ending you want involves your character doing something wildly out-of-character, then that’s not the right ending. (I like to call this an Endgame!Steve ending. No, I’m not over that.) Even if your audience is invested in your story enough to overlook the incongruence, they will be having to overlook it rather than feeling fully invested in the journey you’ve created.

Chekov’s Gun

The most satisfying endings are the ones that tie up most, if not all, of the loose ends, and provide an emotional pay-off equivalent to the build-up. If you’ve been talking about something big that might or might not happen, and then it doesn’t, it’s narratively frustrating. In the same way, if you drop something big in that doesn’t really fit with what went before, it’s going to make the story feel unbalanced.

Obviously that doesn’t mean you can’t have a surprise or twist ending but even if the reader is surprised by something happening, they still want to feel like they’re reading the same story. They need to look back with hindsight of knowing the twist and see how it fits in, and not how it stands out.

A good rule to follow is the Chekov’s Gun rule: If there’s a gun on the table in the first act, someone needs to shoot it in the second act. If you’ve been teasing something, make sure the pay-off is there.

And, of course, if someone’s going to be firing a gun at the end, go back and make sure it gets mentioned earlier in the story. It doesn’t need to be a heavy-handed anvil, but if you can drop in casual hints about guns earlier in the story, the whole thing feels more cohesive and thought out. No one needs to know that you only put those hints in after you’d finished the whole thing.

Loose Ends

Something I always like to do when I’m plotting exactly how the ending is going to go, is to go back through the whole fic and make a list of anything that feels like it could be a loose end if it didn’t get resolved. (If I’m having a problem working out my ending, often this happens at the same time as writing down all my ending plot points, as I described above.)

Some of those are obvious, like ‘Bucky and Clint need to kiss’, but some are less so. Did Clint think about how much he just wants to be done with all the drama so he can snuggle with his dog? Maybe throw in some Lucky cuddles somewhere in the finale so he gets the emotional pay-off. Has Bucky mentioned really want to punch a bad guy in particular in the face? Give him a chance to smack that asshole around a bit. Has there been a minor relationship drama along the way, like someone leaving their socks lying around? Have them either make a point of putting them away, or the other person just rolling their eyes and accepting it as a part of being with them.

It’s also important to think about where your secondary characters are going to end up, and if it feels like they’ve had an arc that needs resolving. Has there been another pairing with a bit of screen time or some background drama? Give them a chance to make out/make up. Has the bad guy done something that affected one of the other Avengers? Let them have a slice of revenge along the way.

For example, in my plan for Be All You Can Be, one of the original characters I introduced as other soldiers doing Basic Training, Havelka, didn’t turn up again after he’d been kicked back a level to another training unit. When I reread that, it became clear that he needed to prove himself somehow or his arc would be a depressing downward slope partially instigated by Clint and Bucky, so I brought him back at the end to do some First Aid and gave him a line or two to point to how his future was going to go, so the reader knew he was going to be okay.

You don’t have to completely resolve everything of course, and sometimes it is nice to leave a couple of things up to the reader’s imagination, but it’s nice for the reader if there’s a sense of things being tied up in a little bow.

Ending

So, you’ve resolved your plot, how are you going to handle the actual final ending?

Depending on how your story has gone, you might not need much after the resolution, or you may need several epilogue-y type scenes just to make sure everything is wrapped up.

Take a moment to think about what feeling you want the reader to take away from the fic. If it’s a romance, do you want to end with a warm fuzz of ‘aw cute’? If it’s been an angsty dig down into Clint or Bucky’s mental health issues, do you want a sense of optimism or catharsis? If there’s been a lot of action and drama, do you want a bit of peace and quiet for your characters to signal it’s all over with?

The best way to end any story is with a sense of hope, even if you’ve not gone for a completely happy ending, or have left yourself open for a sequel with some unresolved plot points. You want the reader to feel at least in some way uplifted. After all, regardless of whatever else has gone before, that’s the emotion they’ll have when they get faced with the Kudos button and the Comment box, so you need them in a good mood, right?

When you know what kind of feeling you want your ending to have, that will give you a major clue as to what the characters should be doing in the final scene.

One thing that can work well is bringing back something from the first scene or two and twisting it to be part of the ending. For example, at the beginning of Be All You Can Be Clint uses the song Make A Man Out Of You from Mulan as a way to torture Bucky, and then at the end, they watch the movie together while snuggling.

You do have to be careful not to be too heavy handed with that, and it doesn’t work in every fic, but I do like the feeling of ‘things coming full circle’ that you can get from doing it.

Afterglow vs. Too Much Ending

I always think that good stories come with a certain amount of ‘afterglow’: Just a scene or two to round things out and give a pointer towards the future.

For example, in general, I don’t like stories that end with a first kiss, which is one of several reasons I usually find Hollywood romcoms unsatisfying. It feels like too much of a beginning, and leaves too many questions open about how things are actually going to go for the couple in question. As part of a complete ending, it feels more satisfying to have an ‘epilogue’-y type scene afterwards that will give you a sense of how things went from there, even if it’s just a couple of paragraphs about them planning their first date.

I’m sure we can all think of other times we’ve read or watched something and had a moment of ‘oh, was that it?’ after the last sentence/when the credits rolled. Abrupt endings without a bit of afterglow can leave the reader blinking a little and wondering where their damn cuddles are.

That said, you also don’t want to go too far in the opposite direction. If the plot is over, there’s no need to keep going with multiple scenes of fluff or porn that doesn’t really add anything. We don’t need to see their whole lives mapped out, and it can get fairly dull once the tension of the plot is over. Ask yourself if the three chapters of them having sex on every flat surface in their apartment is actually necessary, or if some of them can be cut and used as one-shot sequel/missing scene fics.

In general if it’s not adding to either the narrative or emotional arcs, try to cap it at a scene or two. Just enough to feel like you’ve had a bit of post-climactic afterglow, but not so much that it’s starting to drag.

In Conclusion…

Ending a fic is, in so many ways, the most satisfying part of writing. You got right the way through your plot to the end! You did all the writing! Your characters made it through to their happy/sad/ambiguous endings! You deserve all the gold stars!

You just want your reader to feel the same way, by making sure the ending fits with what came before, ties up all the ends that need tying up, and leaves them with a deep glow of whatever feeling you want the overall story to convey.

And then you just need to do the editing, but that’s a workshop for another day...

#winterhawk olympic bang #WHOB #winterhawk #writer workshops #writer workshop: endings #guest post #flawedamythyst

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

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To Be Continued - Part 10

Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead

Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)

Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy

Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>

Word count: 2487

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue

The broken laptop was taken by Sungjin that night, and he returned it to you a fortnight later with a new screen on it. Despite being grateful, you were still hopeless. “Brian’s gone for good, isn’t he?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to move on from him, Y/N. I hate seeing you this stuck. Don’t you want to write other stories and start living again?”

Staring up at the man, you nodded numbly. “I hoped I’d be living with him. I guess dreaming up the perfect guy isn’t a healthy thing to do.”

“It did happen, and your grief is validated,” he told you, giving your upper arm a gentle squeeze. “Everyone faces a loss of someone in their life at one point or another. And we have to learn how to continue on after they’re gone.”

“You’re right,” you murmured, smiling gently at Sungjin. “Thank you for being a good friend to me.”

“Officially friend-zoned,” Sungjin teased, dramatically grappling at his heart. You giggled, and this made him stop and smile. “And officially hearing a good sound come from you. I hope you can feel comfortable to laugh more often, Y/N.”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“Now that you have your device back, how about you go and write something? I’m sure it’s been a long two weeks.”

You grinned at his statement, nodding along. “My desktop is so ancient. I was close to spending a lot of money on a new one.”

“Well, now you don’t have to. Off you go and write, Miss Writer.”

Your smile fell as soon as you shut the door, the friendly term Sungjin just called you only bringing up the moments where Brian had called you that time and time again. Counting to ten, you avoided crying for the first time over your loss and smiled.

“All I have to do is keep counting and writing,” you instructed, marching down to your office and plugged in the laptop. It fired up immediately, and the new screen was pristine. Thankfully, all of your work was backed up to an external so you didn’t have to worry about losing your work. It surprised you, however, that the computer remembered where it last was in your session, the end of the Eternity document appearing in front of you.

Reading over the paragraph you had sent Brian, you wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort. “You did well, Y/N. You waited for love, and you loved him like no other. This story’s over now, though. Let’s move on.”

Slowly, you deleted your message, making sure the document said The End and closed out of it, moving it to another storage space on your external hard-drive before opening a new document.

It was time to step out of the limbo you had endured for too long.

“Lily, did you get my first submission?” you asked as you continued to tap furiously at your keyboard, not bothering to check the expression of your editor on the small window in the corner of your screen.

“I did, and it’s fabulous.”

“Just fabulous?” you asked, scrunching your up face in annoyance. “I don’t think fabulous is enough.”

“Ooh, someone is feeling good about her work lately,” Lily crooned, and you grinned. “It’s good to see you working this happily again, Y/N.

“Well, the Encounter series is done now, and I need to have a follow-up story.”

“Does your favourite constable know about this?” she wondered dreamily, and you stopped typing to shoot Lily a look. “What? I distinctively remember you swooning over your protector. There’s no hope for you two to have a romance behind the scenes too?”

“Lily, I might be a writer who enjoys a good love story, but that’s all it remains as for me, a story. Sungjin is my friend, and I’ll surprise him with the final manuscript when this is done.”

“Yes boss!” she cheered and then gasped. “Oh, by the way! I heard that pre-order sales for Eternity have surpassed Captivated! When it launches in two week’s time, I’m certain you’re going to rank well!”

“And then that world will finally be at a close,” you murmured to yourself, Lily straining to hear what your lips had expressed. When you noticed her confusion, you smiled brightly. “Thanks for all your hard work over the past three years on this project, Lil.”

“You wrote them, Y/N. That world, especially Eternity, is a masterpiece.”

“Well, I hope the next story will be even better. More than fabulous, even.”

“You never let a single thing slide. I’ll sing your praises further when you send me the chapter you’re working on right now!”

“Onto it!” you said with a wave of goodbye, and the video call ended.

Slumping in your chair, your eyes shifted towards the wall calendar where the date had been circled for Eternity’s release.

You had taken Sungjin’s advice and picked yourself up out of the dumps. Of course, it hadn’t been easy, and still to this day you had moments where you yearned for Brian. However, you had remained strong since your initial resolve and left Eternity where it belonged – in your completed archive. You hadn’t sent messages, you didn’t open the document, and aside from when obligated to, you didn’t speak of that world to anyone. It still hurt too much, and you were looking forward to a time where this was all just a fond memory in your writing career.

Right now, with the impending sales and then signing tour that was booked, however, you were doing your best to distract yourself from anything that might make you cave.

Writing your police officer au was definitely helping with that, and you launched into typing again about Sungjin and Ella, you two protagonists.

You knew you probably should change his name, but the story made the most sense to you when you imagined your friend. Although you did wonder how you could separate the two when it came to the more romantic parts in the novel, you were having a lot of fun, remembering those juvenile feelings you once had for Sungjin before Brian stepped out of the laptop and changed your life entirely.

Sigh. You had thought of Brian again.

“When will I stop doing that?” you wondered in a sing-song voice, trying to keep upbeat. It was then that a new document popped up on the screen, and you groaned loudly. “And when will you stop glitching?”

It wasn’t the first time the new document tab would appear, now and then when you were in the midst of typing. You assumed you kept hitting the keyboard shortcut for opening it somehow and mentally wrote yourself a note to check if it could be disabled when you were done with this chapter.

Paying it no mind, you continued writing your story, not thinking once about all the mysterious happenings that preluded Brian’s appearance in the first place.

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you today!” a young voice announced, and you smiled brightly at the teen before you. “I’m a big fan of Brian and Charli!”

“Aren’t we all?” you mentioned happily back, reaching for the copy of Eternity she had placed down to sign. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Jennie! With an i-e.”

“Well, Jennie, with an i-e, I’m so glad you came today. I hope to see you at my next book signing in a couple of year’s time.”

“You can count on it, Y/N!”

The day continued much in the same, and whilst you were overwhelmed by the support of your fans, when you entered your hotel for the evening, you were more than emotionally exhausted.

“Stupid Charli. She’s living the dream,” you muttered and then caught yourself, sighing heavily with your unexpected negativity.

It was foolish to be jealous, and yet after listening to everyone say how perfect Brian and Charli were for each other all day long, you understood your reaction. Even if you were moving on, you wanted to be the one who was perfect for Brian Kang.

“Let’s count to ten, shall we?” you told yourself, breathing deeply and following through with your mantra. After ordering room service for dinner, you settled into the plush bed with your laptop, ready to stream a crime show you had been watching for research.

When the screen appeared though, it was opened on Microsoft Word with a new document waiting for you. You groaned and looked into the settings to make sure you had in fact disabled the keyboard shortcut. It was as you had left it and you let out a small huff at the program before hovering your cursor over the exit button.

Something in you made you pause, however, and you peered at the empty document with some interest. “Why are you following me around?”

Thinking of how Brian would always open a new document to converse with you, a glimmer of hope surged through, and you hit the keys with a rapid pace.

Are you there, Brian Kang?

Nothing came, and your words didn’t dissolve either. Rolling your eyes at your rash reaction, you closed the document and opened Netflix.

You were well into the throes of the show when your room service knocked on the door, casting you out of bed and over to the door. Once you returned with the tray of food you had been given, you noticed the document was back on the screen again.

“What is going on?” you wondered, staring at it for some time. Placing a hand on the screen, you closed your eyes and willed Brian to come out. It had been so long since you had done this, and yet your fervour was stronger than ever. You prayed so hard that when you opened your eyes and saw nothing there, your tears were immediately at the surface, cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so over pining for you. Either come back or leave me alone!” you wailed, pushing the laptop aside and curling up into a ball.

You didn’t see it then, but the cursor started to move as if someone was holding down the space button, creating ten pages before it stopped.

The tour ended, and you were all too grateful to wake up back home with Binks curled up beside you. Kissing your furbaby until he made it apparent that your affection was unwanted, you climbed out of bed to brew yourself some coffee.

Today, you felt free. The saga of Eternity was over and whilst you knew you would still have to do a couple more interviews here and there in the future where you would be asked about the series, and your Discord would still be hit up regularly about reviews over the final story in the trilogy, today you were at least free from the contractual sides of the story. You wouldn’t have to actively talk about Charli Evers and Brian Kang ever again.

You also hoped that one day, once your pain resolved enough, that you could reread the series and remember why you had loved it all along, instead of the jealousy and burden you felt towards it right now.

With coffee and toast held in either hand, you bounced off to your office and sat down at your desk, blinking when you found your laptop on your desk already.

Had you pulled it out of its bag last night when you got home?

Shrugging, you hit the power button and were surprised when it immediately loaded up your home screen. “I did turn you off, you finicky device.”

Lots of little things had happened since getting the screen fixed, and you had left it down to that incident messing with it. You didn’t have it in you to believe otherwise.

Opening your emails, you went through the important correspondence, threw out the spam, and moved the replied ones to their relevant folders. Once your inbox was empty, you moved onto your other admin tasks for the day, ensuring you were all caught up before you stepped back into your police officer au.

When ready, you clicked on the file, and instead of it appearing, it was a blank document. “Oh no, you don’t! There were words in this file!”

Looking at the title of the word document, you were relieved to see it untitled and not that of your current story. Clicking again on the file from your writing folder, another blank document appeared instead.

“Open it! I have to write about Sungjin and Ella!” you exclaimed, hitting the file repeatedly. Tens of blank documents appeared with your efforts until you were panting with the annoyance. Sitting back, you shook your head. “That’s it! I’m buying a new laptop! I’m done with you!”

Before you could close the screen down, however, you noticed that one document appeared and had words in it. But it wasn’t your current one. Instead, Encounter appeared on the screen, scrolling at a rapid rate to the bottom. Then it changed tabs, moving through Captivated just as fast. Finally, Eternity finished it off, the words The End simply staring back at you.

“…Brian?”

Leaning forward towards the screen, you waited to see what would happen next. Annoyed that your hopes were raised yet again, you started to close the empty tabs, leaving the three stories up. A final tab appeared, and you burst into tears as words started to appear on the screen.

It’s time to start writing our story now.

Standing up shakily, you pointed at the screen. “Hurry up then, I’ve waited far too long to write this story with you.”

The screen went blank as your heart began to thud erratically in your chest, your eyes widened whilst waiting for what would happen next. Reaching for the power button, you watched as the screen lit up.

And then you felt arms embrace you immediately. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“I don’t care right now,” you managed to say despite your emotions running down your face. Pulling back just enough so you could see Brian’s handsome face, you shook your head in disbelief. “As long as you’re here.”

“For good,” he assured, leaning in for a passionate kiss. “That world is closed and done with. Whilst ours is only beginning.”

You knew with time, you would want to know why it took so long for Brian to return and to scold him for hurting you so much. You also knew Brian would placate you in every way, and you would hear all about his equal longing and struggle without you at his side.

But for now, this was all you needed. Dream men were hard to find existing in real life. You had found yours again, and this time you wouldn’t write him in one way or another. You’d let your life together pen the journey you had at each other’s side.

Your story was about to be continued.

_________________

Epilogue

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merakiclosed · 4 years

Text

Wonwoo - My Light

》Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

》Summary: Why was fate so cruel to bring two people with limited time together?

》Genre: Heavy angst, fluff if you squint, Non-idol

》Word count: 1617

》Notes/Warnings: Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with any of the following: terminal illness, major character deaths, not a happy ending.

If you want to make it more sad listen to Twenty One Pilots cover of cancer (i think it's sadder)

Tagged: @lavforreal @shuatoyou

Masterlist | All messages and requests are open <3

He was only 20 when his life got taken. Too much to see, too many dreams. But he never got to accomplish them. Silent tears make their way down your face as you stand on top of the hospital building, the breeze kisses your skin in comfort. You know what today is, but you can't bring yourself to go there yet. The thought of seeing his family and friends. The thought of seeing him. Standing here as the sun descends should bring you comfort, he always enjoyed these times. Yet the soft rays only solidified reality. It was such a contrast than the white walls, and the suffocating smell of bleach. But the once bold colours, that hold so much life are dull.

Watching him, you see the light in his eyes as the sun casts a golden hue onto his face, a contrast to his sickly, pale skin. - Much like your own. He looks his age in this light, you realise. Carefree, the wind causing his hair to go haywire. But you can see the sheen of sweat covering his forehead and his sunken cheekbones. His arm that is around you provides warmth, snuggling deeper into him. “Where would you go on holiday?” The question showed how much he was wishing to be somewhere other than this deathly hospital.

“Hmm. I would like to go to Hawaii.” You hummed.

“That would be nice, we would be able to properly see the sunset.” Closing your eyes, you can imagine being stood with him on the beach, the sand dancing in between your toes, the soft sound of the ocean. And for a second, everything would be alright. Just the two of you with nothing to worry about. But reality sets in with a honk of a car and the light cough that comes from you, his hand rubs your arm comfortingly.

“Where would you like to go?” You question, looking up at him. His eyes are soft when he looks at you, and with a small smile on his face he says, “Anywhere, as long as I’m with you.”

His arms are warm, wrapped around you as you laid on his bed. The doctors allowed you to move your beds in the same room, it wouldn't cause any harm. The sunlight filters around the room, the fan in the corner accompanying the sounds of the machines beeping. You both never talked seriously, it was too heavy on your hearts as you both know what was inevitable. As you lazily looked around the room, you found that he had more machines hooked up than last time creating a stab to your heart. This wasn't what love should look like.

“Would you say yes if I asked your hand in marriage?” His words shock you, but the thought of being with him forever, longer than this life you were given, causes butterflies in your stomach. Imagine falling asleep and waking up next to him, mini version of you and him running around the house. Laughter and shouts that would echo across the house. It sounds like a dream.

You nod, “Of course I would. I love you.”

He whispers the words back, “till death do us part.”

Your chest felt like it was being stabbed, your head spinning as you can feel bile rising in your throat. But you won't vomit. No, there's no time for that. Pain pulsates in your entire body, your heart beat rapid as it tries to pump as much blood as possible. You know you should go back to your room, call a doctor. But you won't. You don't want to die on a hospital bed, hooked up to multiple tubes and monitors just like he did. You wanted to stand here, where your last moments were shared. When you were happy.

Cold and bare your feet led you down the path, it was easy to get out of the hospital unnoticed. Your destination wasn't far, only a couple of minutes. You didn't care for the rocks and twigs that stabbed your feet, too busy with the memories that crashed in your head like a tsunami.

He wears a hat on his head this time, matching the one you adorn. His hair had been falling out in chunks, but you had already been prepared for him by buying couples hats. He laughed when you showed him it, a little note tucked inside, ‘couples who wear hats together stay together.’ You had always been goofy and happy around him, he was your light so you would be his.

Your fingers are tangled together, a strong hold on each other, almost like you'd lose each other at any given second. The stars were up, keeping the moon company. Wonwoo, even though he looks ill, was as handsome as ever. You can't stop yourself when you lean up and kiss his cheek, a small smile on both of your faces. He ponders for a moment before taking his phone out of his back pocket and plays soft piano music. Softly, he grabs your hand as you connect your hands around his neck, smiles not faltering for a second. Lightly you begin to sway to the music.

“I will always love you. Remember that.”

“And I will always love you.” The words you spoke were bittersweet on each of your tongues. He leans down to kiss you and like always fireworks erupt in your stomach as your heart pounds.

It's cut off quickly with a cough, his throat burns as he wheezes, blood accompanying the food coming out. He doesn't stop. Shouting of nurses and doctors that rush towards you both as he’s taken out of your arms. One last longing look at you and that's the first time you cry in front of him.

Who knew that, that would have been the last time that you would see him.

You can see Wonwoo’s family, his mother shaking in her husband's grip, hearing her gut wrenching cry. Faintly, you can hear his dad, “he’s not in pain anymore. He loved you now and forever.” You couldn't agree more, he adored his parents and you hoped they liked you. They were so loving and caring, gushing over the both of you and sneaking in homemade food. It felt like a real family. Your feet are stuck to the ground, you'd break down if you saw them now. The coffin is lowered, the shiny gloss of black descending into the ground, somewhere in you is glad that you didn't see his face. - blank and void of life.

It felt like hours once you watched them walk away, your footsteps slow and hesitant, the leaves under your foot crunch. Softly, you graze your hand along his headstone, soft marble under your fingertips. The pain of knowing he’s here is overwhelming, the carving of his name, Jeon Wonwoo. Born 17th July 1996. Death 28th August 2016. Breathing out heavily you remember when he seemed so alive and free, the first time you met him.

Dying was a weird concept. It was inevitable to all, but some had shorter lives than others. How does that happen? Did they complete everything they wanted; dreams, goals? Some know when it's going to happen, some don't. That’s life, you guess. The good thing would be that no one would miss you. Your family never bothered to come and see you anyway. So, maybe dying wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe you'd have a better life in the next world.

“You shouldn't be up here.”

“Yeah. Well neither should you.” you retort.

“It's beautiful, right? It feels like you’re on top of the world.”

The dying sun ignites the sky in a mix of amber and blood-red, causing your silhouette to seep behind you. Sadness pours into you, another day is lost in the circle of time. You can’t run away from fate. Maybe that's what dying would be like because when the sun has its last breath, somewhere in you, doesn’t want it to go and disappear.

“Yeah. It does feel like that” you breath, smiling for the first time in years.

“I’m Wonwoo.”

“I’m Y/n.”

Your knees buckle underneath your weight, body feeling heavy as your lungs heave. Begging and pleading for more oxygen. Your once silent tears turn into sobs as your grieve. What did you both do to deserve this? Why did fate decide to bring you together? The both of you sick and ill, no treatments and no cures. You started to wonder, was it better or worse that you met him in these circumstances?

Feeling your lungs collapse, you finally fall to the floor. You reach your hand out to touch the tombstone, wishing that you were holding his hand instead. Panting, you find it hard to open your eyes, a singular tear escaping, with a small smile on your face, you whisper up into the sunset, “I told you that I would follow you, till death do us part”

And as you lay alone, with your heart gradually slowing you agree that it was better that in these miserable times he was with you for he was your light.

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sn4kebites · 3 years

Note

hello im Late To The Party lmaooo but i think i've gathered my thoughts enough to form a decent ask 🦥

i honestly feel like the content in the tags is just so ... stagnant. like you go through any x reader tag and it becomes very apparent very quickly that everything is basically just half-assed copy-pasted headcanons that honestly...don't really involve that much thought. and the sad thing is that's what's popular, because its so easily consumable and so easy to mass produce, so ppl see that that type of content gets attention & followers so they start to copy it and it starts a cycle of boring content lmao.

i feel like this was really clear a few months ago where all these blogs under networks started popping up and you genuinely Could Not tell the difference between them...from the same themes to same content to literally the same carrds lmao (on a side note....the fact that so many of them had a "besties" list did not sit right w me lmao.... like it just screamed high school clique and clout chaser to me). like if that's all you're producing i genuinely cannot imagine being proud of your content like that ... and judging by the way so many of the blogs die out within a 2-4 month period . 🥴

and what makes me mad is that whenever we point out these problems and criticize the community all we get in return is "you're just jealous" and "let people read what they want" and a slew of hate anons putting u down to defend their favs. but the thing is, no one is telling them to stop. no one is telling them what they can and can't read—hell, even i end up reading that type of content occasionally because its just, exactly what's on the tin. it's easy. it's consumable.

but what is a problem is that this community settles for mediocrity. they raise the blogs that create this type of content onto a pedastal and act like they're the second coming of shakespeare when literally all they make is "how hq boys hold your hand" and "hq boys as tiktok trends" with no original thought at all.

there's no unique voices, at least not anymore, and i genuinely believe it's because of the burnout that this community has caused for them. writing is a hobby you do for yourself first and foremost, i know that. but there comes a point where when all you do is pour your heart and soul into creating fics and it gets little to no attention at all and that popular blog who made their 12th headcanon list about how hq boys as tiktok trends gets like 1k notes... i don't blame them for leaving :")

i might have more to say that i'm forgetting atm but these are My thoughts [folds hands] . if you made it through all of this JDKALW my apologies 🐌🐌

WHEW MEG WHEN YOU SAID HOW HQ BOYS HOLD YOUR HAND I FOLDEDDDD PLEASE UR SO RIGHT

i feel ppl are so dismissive of it but it's like so genuinely an issue and you cannot talk about it because people will really just call you bitter and it's like man i LIKE blogging. if i hated i wouldn't be here and me thinking about these things is not me being bitter

it's literally just evaluating the way content is percieved and how that has leaked itself into writing. fic writing is a form of meta analysis. when you focus so much on consumability i feel like you lose such a fundamental aspect of it

like.. character building, and plot and development - all of these incredibly important things get lost when people are too bothered to read anything over a thousand words. and it MATTERS because the core of fandom stuff is analysis and characterization and exploring a world anf these concepts and when you completely lose the space for that it's.. frustrating 2 say the least

and it's like.. i LOVE shitposting. i make fake tweets and shit like that because it's so entertaining but it's weirdly depressing to see how quickly those posts tend to circle around like IDK there's just.

I AGREE WITH ALL OF YOUR POINTS COMPLETELY THE WHOLE THING IS WILDLY FRUSTRATING

#void.answers

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quillsickink · 4 years

Link

I’ve meant to churn out the first chapter of this slow-burn nightmare for a while, so here we go. Caution - this is an eventual Ellie/Abby fic, so if you are not a fan - please evacuate while you can!

This story begins in a slightly alternate timeline from the events of the game. We start after three characters choose to make a handful of very different decisions. 1. Owen deserted to Santa Barbara while Abby and Yara rescued Lev. Dispirited, Abby fled with Lev to travel north along the coast instead of following her former friends to southern California. In a desperate effort to find a place in the world for them, she heads to an abandoned conduit for the Fireflies - an enigmatic hunting lodge from her adolescence. 2. Tommy refused to cooperate with Jesse and his request to come home. He instead continued his pursuit for revenge against Abby, having found evidence she defected and is wanted for murder by the Washington Liberation Front. 3. Broken from finding a mere empty aquarium after killing Nora, Ellie returned to the theater. Tommy's refusal to return to Jackson spurs her to make a drastic decision to abandon Dina and Jesse to bring him home.

With that, we start in a little town outside of just west of Montana.

===

Ellie's sneakers slap hard against the pavement as she trots down the arcade's alley. She pushes sharply against the emergency exit, ignoring the cold rain pelting her face. She hisses, nearly losing her balance on a slick patch of cracked asphalt.

"Fuck-"She breathes after righting herself and throws her shoulder against the entrance.

The hinges are stubborn, but after a couple of shoves, it gives way. She shrinks inside and pulls back the hood of her jacket from her soaked head of hair.

Shouldn't have bothered, Ellie thinks bitterly, wiping the rainwater from her eyes. A finger strokes the grip of her revolver as she takes a moment to check her sixes.

She presses the switch attached to her pack's flashlight, and it flickers on, illuminating the dusty room. Storm clouds had quickly blotted out the setting sun on the ruined city, and the sound of rolling thunder was enclosing on the outskirts of town.

Ellie shudders and takes a moment to run her hands along her forearms in a vain attempt to warm herself. She strips herself tiredly of her wet coat and overshirt and tosses the articles across the back of a weathered chair to dry.

It was going to be hell managing to pick up Tommy's trail again after tonight if she relied on the ground.

Whatever tracks or evidence he or Abby had left behind would have surely been washed away by morning. She groans at the possibility. There had been many nights where she was left to wrestle with the genuine possibility of giving up and returning to Jackson.

Ellie didn't want to face another morning of wrestling with herself at another dead end.

Above Scars, wolves, and infected - the weather had proven to be Ellie's most frustrating obstacle. Heavy and often unpredictable showers had kept her circling the area for far longer than she had anticipated. It seemed each time she caught the wind of Tommy's trail, she was met with nothing.

Another late night, she thinks, trotting quickly up the stairs. The second floor had a window featuring a downhill view of a formerly commercial section of town. It was worth the long sprint back in the storm if it meant camping with a good line of sight for the evening.

It had been difficult to move anywhere since yesterday, and she had doubts Tommy could cover much ground either. Not being able to see the ground six feet in front of you would be enough for anyone to seek shelter.

Ellie catches her breath and slides down the wall next to the open window. Her eyes scan the darkening streets, looking for the sign of fire or flashlight inside an endless assortment of broken, boarded windows.

It was easy to look for signs of life here; it had been improbably peaceful since her arrival. There seemed to be little human presence at all, save for the band of wolves she had stalked here. She had heard gunfire some days ago, her only clue that Tommy was still lingering somewhere nearby. Trees had taken over most of the downtown buildings, uprooting foundations and creating a canopy of shade and a sea of broken concrete. It was the perfect place to hide, both for herself and Tommy... or Abby.

The thought of the latter intruded into the forefront of her mind more often than she liked to admit.

Ellies wonders if the murderer's trail had gone cold for him, too. Why else would someone linger here?

She carefully rifles through her pack and plucks free a pair of cracked binoculars, pushing the thought of Joel's killer away. If was painful to dwell on, causing her to lose her focus.

Ellie peers through the lens, searching for the tell-tale signs of flashlight or fire.

She allows her arms to rest against the windowsill. Muscles ache from a tedious day of tracking, and she is hungry, but there's little motivation to eat. Not right now.

"Goddamnit," She whispers under her breath. All clues pointed the other woman had headed north along the freeway to this place. Ellie had no choice but to follow the wolves' tire tracks carefully, a tedious process, and a measure of Ellie's patience.

Ellie had spent weeks trodding after them. Just far enough behind as not to alert them of her presence, but close enough that she couldn't lose them in an emergency.

Snake, traitor, bitch. There were many choice words the wolves had picked to reference Abby, which piqued her interest. Ellie had only picked up bits of conversation, but it seemed her former brethren had equally vitriolic relationships with her.

Wonder what the hell you did to them. Something alarming enough to send a squad after you, at least.

Despite the slow start, stalking them had provided her with an unreliable stream of information. The circumstance had proven to be working in Ellie's favor, and that's all that mattered at present. Following them hadn't been easy in any capacity, but it was the only lead she had since discovering the aquarium was a dead-end.

She shuddered, thinking about a handful of close calls that had kept her on her toes.

A buzz around their camp indicated they were hot on Abby's heels, but Ellie had suspicions they had been pressured from within to turn back. A fatal run-in with infected had dampened their spirits and left two of them dead. Not everyone who split off to escape came back to regroup.

A three-day barrage of miserable weather had been the nail in the coffin for their expedition to bring Abby to justice. Ellie had watched their hopes deteriorate before they tucked their tails and began the trek back to Seattle. That had been a hard night for her. Equally defeated, she was forced to choose between leading a blind goose-chase or returning to Jackson. Again.

And for what? This was a persistent thought for her. For Dina?

She reaches for her journal and begins to notate her position. No sign of life anywhere. Ellie eyes the countless windows where inevitably, she would hope to see signs of light.

She probably despises me.

After everything they had done to get this far.

All the blood that had been spilled just to get here, with no tangible resolution in sight.

She kept these thoughts to herself, feeling them too miserable to bring to life.

She felt there was nothing left in Jackson for her. Not right now. Ellie had broken a lot of promises already. Returning home wasn't plausible until she kept her word to Maria, or buried Abby. Whichever came first.

She opens the leatherbound book to the middle, carefully removing the tattered bookmark. Her fingers press against a photo carefully tucked into the spine.

Dina.

Ellie's lips twist into a partial smile.

Bet you're really showing by now. For sure.

She presses the tip of her pen to the paper.

She had spent weeks trying to suppress the notion that they hadn't made it back to Jackson.

Jesse better be taking care of you, she writes slowly.

Her eyebrows furrow.

It hurts to say so.

The words scratch heavily into the paper, and she pauses to twirl her pen.

Day 7 in this place. Four days since I heard gunfire. No sign of life today. Another storm is blowing in. Feels like it is going to freeze over soon.

Ellie pauses, lifting her head to take a tentative peek over the sill. She hoped the temperature didn't dip too low tonight.

Time passed slowly in moments like these. Three months of traveling alone had begun to take its toll on her spirit. The disconnect between Dina and Jesse felt real; separated now for almost twelve weeks.

She had said things that she had slowly begun to regret. Even worse, regrets from words she didn't say.

Ellie twirls the pen in her fingers.

Running low on ink. I should probably try to find another soon.

She jots a final statement in her entry for tonight.

I hope one day you understand.

She tucks the picture into the journal and moves the ribbon to the following page—time to put this away and be diligent, for now.

===

"Tommy's not coming back."

Jesse had knocked defeatedly at the theater door. When Ellie opened it, his expression spoke volumes on the grimness of the situation.

"I tried to reason with him, but-" Jesse sighs in frustration.

"-he's caught wind that Abby's defected. She's left Seattle."

Ellie bites her lip, a seed of dread growing in her stomach.

"Where did you see him last?" She asks sternly, gripping the straps of her pack.

---

"Take her home, Jesse," The exhaustion in her voice the following morning was apparent. She had barely slept, rattled by her experience in the hospital. The weight of the pipe in her hands and Nora's face haunted her thoughts, and there was little comfort in Dina's arms. In the wee hours of the morning, she had grown numb to her decision.

"If something happens to Dina or the baby-"

"You won't be able to forgive yourself?" Jesse was understandably angry. He had caught her on the way out, fully prepared to depart without them. The look of surprise on her face had spoiled her intentions.

Jesse couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Ellie abandoning them to leave on her own.

"No. I couldn't. And she can't go home on her own-" Ellie finds it challenging to look at him in the eyes.

"You're not thinking straight-"

"No, Jesse, I...I don't know. I do know if I'm going to find Tommy, I have to think like him,"

Jesse was speechless.

Ellie knew well enough how clever he was at covering his tracks.

"He's not going stop until he has her head." She forces herself to lower her voice, should she threaten to wake Dina.

Jesse clenches his fists, and Ellie gestures toward the back of the building.

"...I promised Maria. Dina's too sick to see the end of this. If you really want to help, just take her and go back to Jackson,"

"Ellie-"

"Don't follow me."

Jesse stares incredulously, shaking his head in disappointment.

"You're making a mistake."

Ellie did not respond and instead turned to leave.

She hoped Dina was able to read the hastily penned letter before Jesse could spill her transgression.

The door's weight felt enormous on the way out.

===

Ellie wakes with a start, her eyes fluttering open to a surprisingly vibrant room. Exhausted, she had fallen asleep in the crook of her elbow.

Shit.

She hadn't intended to sleep this long. Ellie squints and shields her eyes from the grey skylight. It takes a moment for her to grasp what she sees, struggling to peel reality away from a familiar nightmare.

Her heart skips as a beat as she notices a dark contrast of black smoke against ash-colored clouds. She grabs frantically for the binoculars and shoots upright to her feet. Peering expectantly through the lens, she focuses in on the location of the fire.

The trail disappears behind the rooftop of a brewery in the distance. Ellie racks her brain for details - recalling the layout of the streets of the city's downtown.

Has to be him, She thinks as she scrambles to gather her things.

Couldn't be more than a few miles off. If I keep a steady pace, I could reach the campsite by noon.

===

"Abby!"

Lev's voice echoes through the department store, and Abby's head whips to greet him. He waves her over to where he's kneeling across the street.

She grunts and rises to her feet, having just rummaged through the pack of a long-dead drifter. Poor guy didn't have much to his name - at least not when he died. She dusted off her hands before moving to join Lev, kneeling next to another corpse lodged in the threshold of a general store. Still somewhat fresh.

"Do you know him?" Lev asks curiously, reaching for a pouch attached at its side. Abby furrows her brows as she takes a look, allowing her counterpart to rummage through the rucksack.

"No," She shakes her head. "Doesn't look familiar. Has to be one of the assholes that was following us," Abby inspects the unfamiliar man's face, then his jacket.

"There were a lot of us,"

No patches of any kind - must be new. She reaches for his neck, carefully pulling a bloodied chain from the dead man's collar. Aha.

"W.T.," She says, reading the two letters stamped into the tag. "Weird. Just initials," Abby drops the tags, which clink pitifully against his chest.

"Wonder what they stood for."

"Hey-" Abby cracks a faint smile and reaches down to pluck something from between the corpse's fingers. Lev eyes her incredulously.

"Missed something," She hums fondly and presents it to her counterpart to have a look.

It's a pistol - in surprisingly good condition. Abby allows her fingers to run across the barrel before engaging the safety. Only two bullets left, she thinks, before slipping the gun into her side-holster. The former wolf notices the pout forming at the corner of Lev's mouth, and she stifles a chuckle.

"This one's nice, but it's got some kick to it. The gun I gave you suits you," Abby crosses her arms and Lev suppresses the urge to argue.

"Yeah..." He sighs, carefully stepping over a crumbled bookcase used at one point to barricade the entrance. Abby follows suit behind him. He had seemed morose since this morning, not that she could blame him. She had struggled to keep them occupied and maintaining momentum; for the betterment of them both. The lingering effects of Yara's death were most noticeable when there wasn't an immediate goal under their nose.

Having direction kept her from dwelling too much on the recent.

She often thought of Yara. And Owen...and Mel. Their last interaction together had left a bitter taste in her mouth. As much as their abandonment had stung, she still hoped they had made it to Santa Barbara in one piece. She had meant her word when she promised she would head in the opposite direction, at least for the time being.

Abby wondered how Alice was faring at sea.

Similar thoughts intruded often, and she found it necessary to find something distract herself. Right now, her focus was keeping Lev safe and getting the two of them to the lodge.

"Been a while since we've practiced," She adds as they move into the street. Abby leads the two of them along, her eyes looking expectantly for the inn's sign in the distance. It "Maybe we can set up some targets once we get out of town,"

Lev nods and shrugs his shoulders.

"That would be nice," He hums, fiddling with the straps of his pack.

Abby stifles a sigh. I'll cheer you up eventually. Somehow.

The walk to their camp was brief, and soon enough, Abby could see the familiar flaking, sky blue exterior of the 'Silver Cloud'. It had been a long day of scouring for supplies, and the idea of resting her legs was more than appealing.

Abby grunts as she struggles to peel back a rusted tin section used to bar the window. A bit of elbow grease was enough to peel it back and allow Lev to slip through the opening. Abby follows shortly after, careful not to let the metal make too much noise behind them.

Lev breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes his shoulders. The inn smelled like the underside of a pier, Abby thought as she wrinkled her nose. But it was safe, and that's all that mattered. Whoever the owners were before the outbreak had taken care to seal the place shut before closing the doors. The roof sagged slightly from years of neglected, unattended leaks on the south end, but it had managed to stay dry enough to use as shelter.

Lev carefully settles onto the floor after removing his pack. Abby watches as he begins to pull a few items from the day's scavenger hunt, carefully inspecting their spoils.

Abby turns to rifle through her backpack. They had enough food for now, but they still needed a few more things before she could comfortably have them venture out of town. It might be some time before they could scavenge a town for necessities.

Preparing for a trip of this magnitude had taken longer than anticipated; with limited supplies, Abby had resorted to exhausting every potential resource they could explore along their way. They had spent themselves looting the husks of department stores, pharmacies, residences, and a sole general store for any useful materials they could find.

She pulls a small tin from her pack, a makeshift first aid kit. Abby had been more conscientious of the need lately after the trauma of dealing with Yara's injury. The former wolf purses her lips as she carefully opens it, examining its meager contents.

A handle of sewing needles in a yellowed, plastic package. A small bottle of alcohol and a sterile razor. A pitiful wad of unused gauze.

She blinks, recalling have found that Mel and Owen had not only left them behind; they had also taken the precious medical kit she had almost gotten herself killed to get her hands on. The feeling of dread in her stomach when she and Lev returned to see a missing boat was hard to forget.

Blinking away the thought, she puts a spool of thread inside the tin and bitterly snaps the container shut.

"Hey," Lev murmurs, holding an object up for inspection in the dim light. "Look at this,"

Abby peers up from her thoughts to see her counterpart clasping what appeared to be a coin between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Found it in a matchbox," He flips it over to inspect the back, lips pursed in disappointment.

"We needed the matches."

Abby extends her arm and gestures for Lev to hand it over.

"Let me see," She purrs quietly as she plucks it from his palm. The blond squints, her eyebrows raising.

"This is a wheat penny," She hums and offers it back. "You should keep it. They're good luck."

"Huh. A wheat penny," Lev repeats curiously, rolling the coin between his fingers.

"You believe in luck?" Lev eyes her incredulously as he flops onto a nearby couch, adopted as a bed. He tucks the coin into the pocket of his pants for safekeeping.

Abby smiles and raises a brow.

"Sure. When I'm lucky," Abby slides into an armchair with a quiet huff and begins to rub the tension in the back of her neck. She rests her head against the cushioned back, her eyelids growing heavy.

"We should get some rest. Got a long day ahead of us," Abby sinks further into the worn leather, throwing her legs across the chair's arm. She works a hand into her back pocket to remove a map, heavily creased and often referenced. She carefully unfolds it, her eyes drawn to a penciled circle at the outer edge.

"Nearly there," She mutters under her breath, tapping their location. Carefully, she traces her finger along the highlighted route to their destination. Getting there wasn't as easy as the mapped route suggested. Abby had taken the time to mark their actual path, which proved to be a much more jagged and cumbersome hike than anticipated.

"This is our last night here, right?" He asks quietly.

"Swear," She sighs, rolling onto her side. "Last night. We head out first thing in the morning."

Lev sighs in relief and closes his eyes.

They had hunkered down in this place for longer than she cared to admit.

Having the WLF on their heels in the early weeks had fatigued them. The two had spent time resting and biding their time here until she felt they were ready to leave.

Shaking them off of their heels had been a victory for them. Now, they just had to keep moving.

"You think the lodge is still empty?" He whispers. Abby closes the map as dusk dies outside, along with her light source. She furrows her brow.

"I hope so, Lev."

Abby didn't really know what propelled her to take them there. Intuition? A sense of nostalgia? A little bit of both.

She had only been there once with her father when she was about Lev's age. Back when the Fireflies were naively hopeful.

But it was the most extraordinary few months of her life before the Fireflies found it in their best interest to abandon the property. She knew that the lodge was exploited as a conduit for them in the faction's early years. They were moving on a shred of hope that it was still there.

The place had good bones...at least that's what her father would say. She wasn't an engineer by any means, but she was hoping she and Lev could patch any disrepair that might have overcome it…

It was the only place that came to mind when she thought of rebuilding her life.

===

"Fuck,' Abby stutters as she stumbles forward onto her knees. The wolf's boot catches on the wheels of an overturned utility cart. She's shivering, soaked. Foul greywater reaches to her elbows, and she can't see her hands through the filth of it all. In a panic, he pushes herself to her feet and propels herself forward.

A dismal realization overcomes her; she's back in St. Mary's.

No, no, no...even worse. Abby's head whips desperately to find some sort of evidence of her whereabouts. She stifles a cry of terror when she sees the flickering emergency room sign swinging woefully in her peripheral. The whirling growl of a generator sings somewhere in the distance.

The air smells familiarly sour, and she's painfully aware that her hands are empty. Her pack is gone and stripped of all her weapons, Abby is vulnerable and naked to her environment. A quickly approaching gurgling scream encumbers her senses, and her instincts only tell her to move forward. Trembling fingers reach frantically at her hip for a pistol that's no longer there.

Dread transmutes to sickness as she turns a corner to be met with a dead-end.

The sound of flesh and bone scraping against the walls sends a shiver of horror down her spine. Abby's body reluctantly swivels to face the monster lunging aggressively toward her.

She tries to scream, but the sound dies in her throat. She can see every face in the tangled amalgamation of the Rat King. It's twisted core rolls closer, and it dawns on her that the mountain of fungus and flesh isn't a conglomerate of unknown stalkers, but of people she knows—her friends.

The twisted gaze of Mel and Owen cause her to cry out for help. Manny's slack jaw and aimless stare are positioned next to the familiar faces of dead Scars. Yara and Lev. The shoulders supporting them all attaches onto a central face - a memory of a man she had compartmentalized and locked away for some time.

Joel Miller. He stares at her, and Abby snaps her jaw closed. Her body trembles, and she forces her eyes shut as the snarling of the beast swallows her whole. A young woman's scream echoes in her thoughts as her eyes snap awake before the creature's maw reaches her.

Her mind wanders to the ski resort- the grisly sound of metal against skull-bone and the young girl's piercing cry on the floor, begging her to stop.

"Please, don't do this-!"

The creature stumbles aside, and finally, Abby can see a young woman's figure kneeling in the flood-waters.

"Abby, please don't do this-!"

---

Abby startles awake, her forehead coated with a thin sheen of sweat. She takes a deep breath as she snaps up to rest on her elbows, finding the air thick and hard to breathe. The shrill screech of her name was disturbing.

It's cold in the riverside inn, but she's burning hot - her shirt dampened from wrestling a nightmare in the morning's wee hours. Abby takes a few moments to regain her senses, relieved to see it was still early. Tiredly fixated on the pinholes of grey light streaming from the ceiling, Abby Anderson forces herself to sit. It's unbearably quiet.

Thank God, she thinks, allowing her head to rest between her knees. She was surprisingly happy to be here, in this dank place. Nausea slowly begins to ebb away.

It had been a while. Abby tries to remember the last time she dreamed about the hospital. Her fingers massage at a knot of muscle in her neck.

That's not what happened...with the girl, back in Jackson. She didn't know my name.

The incarnation of Joel and the girl's cry for mercy had truly grated her. More than that vile creature.

Funny, she thought. She had tucked that memory to bed some time ago, having washed it away with a new sense of purpose. She shakes her head, instead choosing to turn toward Lev's sleeping form.

Except he's not there. Instead, Abby's met by with the sight of an empty couch.

Her name is Ellie, she recalls suddenly. Joel Miller's little counterpart. The girl with the cure.

She rubs at her eyes.

No time to dwell on it now, she thinks, slowly moving to her feet. The muscles in her jaw ache with tension, and she slowly stretches her mouth open. Ouch. Fuck, that hurts.

It had been a long time since her mind had wandered to linger on the man who killed her father. Those feelings of hatred and resentment had been excised and buried. It seemed guilt had trickled into the empty space. It was growing harder to ignore, especially in moments where she found herself alone.

She had done far worse things to people that weighed on her less. But why?

He deserved it.

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers, reaching to grab her jacket and boots.

She opts to rise on her feet and itemize her things to prepare for the journey that lies ahead. Dawn was fading, and she wanted to hit the pavement before the day got away from them.

"Lev?" She asks hoarsely, moving slowly to the back door. She notices it's unlocked, and the rotting shade was open.

She opens it and steps onto the dock. Lev is sitting on the edge and turns to look at her. He seems serene this morning.

"Morning," He says quietly as Abby comes to sit next to him, relieved. She yawns, and he tucks his knee to have a place to rest his chin.

His eyes focus on a thick line running from his palm into the dark water.

The two didn't say anything for a few minutes. The breeze blowing in the water felt nice, and Abby allowed it to rejuvenate her spirit.

"I thought maybe we could have breakfast before we go," Lev begins to wrap the line leading down to the hook, removing the slack. The shadow of a fish flickers into view, prompting Abby to notice a nearby bucket, teeming with several others.

"Good idea."

===

Weird.

A dead wolf.

Ellie takes a careful glance around before squatting to investigate the corpse.

'So you're the one they left behind,' Ellie thinks, rifling through the dead man's pockets. The body was still...somewhat fresh.

Gross. Ellie grimaces as she picks up the coat in his hands. Still dry, without much blood on it. She would soon need it, as a simple overshirt wasn't going to cut surviving a harsh winter. The temperature was already starting to drop now as autumn was kicking into full swing again.

She runs her fingers across the WLF emblem stitched onto the bicep. The article was still in pretty good shape.

She offers an empathetic glance as she shrugs the jacket across her shoulders. The brunette found it a bit ironic to be brandishing WLF, not that she had much choice. She felt it a shame she couldn't find a proper replacement.

Ellie pauses as she realizes his gun is missing from his holster. Her gaze narrows and her breathing slows as she weighs the possibilities.

Her attention is drawn to a wound at his chest.

Clean shot, large bullet. So this was the last rifle blast I heard.

Instinctually, she peers over her shoulder at the many possible vantage points. She traces each one, trying to figure where the shooter was standing.

Tommy. Had to have been him.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it was the only clue she had to go on. Excitement swells in her chest - instinct was telling her she was moving in the right direction.

She exits the shop, leaving the door open the way that she had found it. It closes slowly against the body in the threshold.

I'm convincing you to come back, even if it kills me.

She picks up the pace, slipping into the liminal spaces of the broken city's alleyways.

And what if it's not him?

Ellie struggles to catch her breath as she finds herself in a full-blown sprint.

A part of her screams in anticipation; what if it's Abby?

Her heart pounds, beating painfully against her ribcage.

She wished she could stop hoping that it was. There was a sliver of her that simply refused to let it go.

Her body slams loudly against a chain-link fence, and her fingers curl viciously through the openings. She presses her forehead against the metal links.

The smoke is feigning in color, but it was closer.

She pulls herself up, scrambling to the slide over the top.

Ellie pauses to wipe the sweat from her eyes.

Wonder what Dina would think - seeing me like this.

Doesn't matter.

Ten minutes at a time.

The bottom of her soles slam against the concrete, and she's off again.

Just follow the smoke.

===

"C'mon Lev," Abby peers nervously over her shoulder.

"We're more exposed than I would like to be,"

Lev stares in wonder over the bridge's side, leaning against the concrete with his elbows. There was something about rushing water that was captivating, especially with a view like this.

The river below had become swollen from heavy rainfall, peppered with old cars and carcasses of boats. The bridge itself had long since collapsed in the center. Instead, it served as a downward ramp into the rushing water. A conglomerate of cars and pontoon boats from neighboring docks had formed a footbridge to the other side.

Lev moves to crouch beside Abby next to a shelled tanker. She raises a brow as she stares at the trail of cars before them. A look upriver only showed miles of running water, with no evidence of another way across.

Abby huffs in thought.

"That's...a long detour," Lev murmurs as he studies the pebbled bank. They had been walking non-stop since breakfast. The sun had settled in the west, threatening to retreat behind the mountains in the distance.

The bridge had collapsed as to leave a path of broken automobile rooftops to tread across. Rain from the night prior had risen the water level yet again, evident by the muddy current below.

"Yeah...shit," Abby rubs at her chin and slides to sit. She allows her pack to slip from her shoulders onto the fractured asphalt and turns to Lev.

"It's not safe. We have to wait,"

Lev feels her frustration, sighing in disappointment. He turns his attention downriver, thinking hard for any semblance of an idea.

"Abby," He murmurs after a few moments. Abby turns to him while unscrewing her canteen, before nearly draining half of it.

"Look, there." He squints, pointing indistinctly to the favoring riverbank. Abby squints, trying to spot what Lev is referencing. It soon becomes evident as she makes out a dull, orange blinking light at the edge of the water. The dimming sun favors the detail, and she strains her eyes to get a better look.

"Attached to the line, across the water," Lev whispers. "That box. Can it take us across?"

Abby realizes he's talking about a nearby metal cab, half-way hidden in the undergrowth. She had assumed it to be a power-line, and her pulse quickens as she realizes it's a fashioned, rugged lift. Clever.

"Someone's been here recently," Abby looks hard at the forest across the river. The line angles high above them to meet the slope on the other side, disappearing somewhere in the trees.

"See the generator?"

Lev blinks, nodding. Abby can almost see the wheels turning, and her gut starts to sink.

"Maybe it works-"

"Absolutely not," Abby says immediately, shaking her head. She almost feels sick thinking about it.

"And who is to say it's safe- ?"

"You said yourself, someone's using it," Lev interrupts her, nearly pleading in earnest. Thunder rolls somewhere beyond the mountains, and seeing the expression on Abby's face, Lev looks away in disappointment.

"It might take days for the river to drop," He leans tiredly against the car and crosses his arm. Abby stays quiet for a moment, and she can see he's despondent.

He was right about that. Abby sighs, peering thoughtfully at him as Lev peers into the water below.

"If it's not lowered by morning, we'll check it out. Deal?" She sighs, her hands resting on her hips.

Lev hesitantly nods, and a gentle smile tugs at his lips.

"Okay."

"I know what you're thinking. All the good things about fear. Yada-yada."

"Yada-yada?"

"Don't worry about it-," Abby tosses Lev his pack.

"... I'm sorry, Abby."

Abby walks a few paces and sharply pulls at the old tailgate of an old pick-up. It squeals as she lowers it to use as a seat.

She tries not to think about the cable-car.

"Don't be. Let's get some rest. It's getting dark."

===

Ellie slips to the ground, her chest heaving to catch her breath.

A runner gurgles piteously on the ground beside her. She watches as it grows still in the grass before her fingers relax on the handle of her bloodied machete.

Shaky fingers turn off her flashlight, allowing the soft-orange glow of the generator to light the riverbank.

Her mind hums numbly with fatigue, and she forces herself to take a few minutes to rest. Ellie had been pushing tirelessly today, desperate to make up for the lost time she took investigating the campsite.

Whether it was Tommy - or someone else - they hadn't left much for her to recover. She had discovered only the charred remains of a perceived cooking fire, which had been neatly scratched away save for a handful of burning coals. A pile of stripped fish-bones did little to identify who had started it.

No scraps, no belongings left behind. The only notable clue had been the imprint of a boot-heel entrenched in a sodden patch of grass up the street. Fresh.

Whoever it was had intentions to head east, towards Libby, denoted by the signs.

She stares blankly at the generator. Hugged by tall grass underneath a shelter, she almost hadn't seen it...and probably wouldn't have in daylight. A gas canister lay on its side amid a patch of trampled grass. Whoever had left it was kind enough to screw the cap closed.

Someone was here, and not long ago. Ellie stares at the cable high above her, and the gondola, which hung only a few meters away. It gives a groan as it swings, agitated by a gust of wind.

Ellie squints with exertion as she lifts herself onto her feet. She had wandered to the river's edge, having spotted a potential foot trail near the road. The bridge in the distance offered little promise she could use it as a means across the river. It seemed to have collapsed and crumbled into the water below.

In an effort to find some semblance of a boat, she was met with this.

Ellie spots several other infected littered in the surrounding area as she carefully takes a look around. All shot, save for the one.

Tommy...if it was you, you left in a hurry. The noise must have drawn them out of the undergrowth.

I can't afford to stay here tonight.

Ellie staggers to pick up the canister and carefully moves to fuel the generator with what remained.

This might be the dumbest thing I've ever done, she thinks, glancing at the dilapidated bridge downriver.

She takes a few tentative steps toward the rusted cab on the platform to inspect the interior.

Seems to be in okay shape.

Ellie presses her boot into the floor to test its integrity. It was exceptionally dark inside, but Ellie had faith that it could hold her across. Somebody had trusted it enough, at least.

A muffled clap of thunder startles her, and she shakes her head in disbelief at what she was about to do.

The shriek of a clicker echoes in the distance. Rainy weather seemed to disturb them as well – drawing them out from the darkness into the rain.

There's not enough time to find another way across tonight.

Ellie grips the handle of the generator's starter cord and gives it a few sharp tugs. It growls in response, the mechanical roar spurring her adrenaline to spike. The platform beneath her vibrates, and Ellie holds her breath as the lift squeaks to life. The gondola lurches forward with a jolt, and she's suddenly made aware that the motor is not going to wait for her to board.

Ellie pulls herself up into the gondola before it can escape the platform. She stumbles inside, careful not to spill backward out of the open door. A nervous laugh escapes her as the cab sways, pulling her skyward along the cable. She allows herself to sit, her back pressed against the cold aluminum. Her eyes squint the car's body scrapes along the weathered line, and she takes a few deep breaths while the swinging slows to a gentle sway. Ellie thinks of all the ways she would suffer if the car detached, finding herself smiling in fear and disbelief.

I may have actually lost it, Jesse.

Her gaze is drawn out the window where the cable ran to an identical platform, presumably among the trees on the other side of the river.

Just a few more minutes… then I'm never doing anything like this again. Ever… ever again.

===

Abby awakes to the sound of a screech.

Before she can even comprehend what's happening, she's upright in the truck's bed. She jerks her head to see Lev already on his feet, staring across the water.

The two offer a confused glance to one another. Lev's mouth hangs open, but before he can say anything, Abby sees the cable-car floating above the river along its suspended course. A mechanical whir slices in the air, the unmistakable groan of a gas generator.

A clicker cries out again in the distance.

"Someone's in there -"Lev whispers and kneels behind the truck out of eyesight. Abby purses her lips in worry as she zips her coat closed.

"Lev, c'mon," She whispers hurriedly, her gaze following the gondola's movement.

Who the hell is in there?

"We have to move."

#elliexabby #elliewilliamsxabbyanderson #tlou2 #tlou #retribution #quillsickink #tloufanfiction #femslash #fxf

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youeverfeelcursed · 4 years

Text

On the Narrative of Last of Us Part 2 (3/3)

So this should be the last part on the narrative but I’ll probably post more thoughts on characters, representation, maybe on some details of the gameplay that just made me wish I could design something like this and most likely a text on where do I think this franchise is going to.

I will also check and fix the previous posts as I know there’s typos and some mismatched data and maybe some timelines confusing. Logically, it comes with posting at my 3am and working from memory and not notes.

That said, lets just move onto what I hope is interesting enough for people to read these old woman’s ramblings. For anyone still reading, thank you very much for your attention, it’s been a while since I truly enjoyed analizing an art piece.

(Note: I’m marking this post for rechecking as I feel its a bit convoluted. I blame it being 4am.)

We ended the previous Act 3 (Abby’s Act) with a overhead shot (or aerial if you prefer) of Ellie and Dina on different sides of the shot, close but separated with Ellie being bathed by a red light and both represented in a descending oblique line from Dina to Ellie.

I find it a wonderful shot that represents Ellie’s story in few and simple details.

(For those interested, the name in the screenshot is from MkIceAndFire a No commentary channel I follow, go check him out!)

From here, we jump to what I called the respise intermission, a short part but full of important details for the understanding of the next and final act.

Like a moth to the flame, or how living sometimes is harder than dying.

The next part of Ellie’s story is as bittersweet as the best coffee you’ll ever have. We find her reminiscencing over Joel’s watch on hers and Dina’s bedroom. Putting it away we get to finally hold in our arms the cutest potatoe I’ve ever seen: JJ! Jesus that child is cute. And it’s obvious that Ellie loves him with all her heart.

During this time we get to explore the beautiful they both probably restored to live in, in which it specially caught my attention how Ellie surprinsingly gets a full room for herself, whereas Dina seems to have a small space in the living room , where the photo of her sister sits.

I loved this part so much but I could feel that something was wrong, and it is. If we read Ellie’s diary we find out that she’s having trouble sleeping and dealing with people, needing to hide and what’s most likely profound PTSD thats later shown with her breaking down after herding all the sheep.

A detail that I found important is the fact that she breaks down while having JJ in her arms, which has to be removed by Dina in case she hurts him during her seizure. Because remember that for Ellie protecting those she cares for is very important, so, does she feel she can protect them now?

Stop for a minute and think of how hard is for nowadays soldier to treat PTSD even with psychological support and meds, and how many of those war survivors end commiting suicide anyway. Now imagine that same in a world where violence is constant - yes they live peacefully in the farm but do you really think they don’t have to deal with any straggler? - and there’s basically zero to none mental health support.

Thats where it is important to pay attention to the moment when Ellie is coming back from hunting, how she cleans her face and takes a deep breath and puts her mask on - an obvious referal to her words in her diary - just before going back to Dina and JJ.

I mean this is not the face of a person fully happy, its the face of a person thats putting her best front but catastrophically failing her inner battle.

Tommy’s visit manages to break any remainer of the mask she tried to maintain so hard. It is obvious how while he tells her how he found information about Abby that with every word she breaks a little bit more. The trembling, tight shut lips and her open wide eyes that look as hopeful as they look lost.

If this were another world, one in which I believe Ellie could get help, I would have hated that she left. But she says it herself, she doesn’t sleep, she doesn’t eat, she has a full room for herself so she can have space and even so she leaves for long times alone. She’s not really living, she’s riding the waves as they come but never truly enjoying it because by now her trauma is so deep I would have been surprised that she stayed.

Because when Tommy talks about Abby, she feels a light, a hope of being able to just pour all of this shit out of her. Abby is not even important anymore, shes just a barrier for Ellie for her own liberation from her demons. Or thats what she thinks.

She truly does JJ and Dina, but she’s completely broken inside. She’s missing pieces and for her, this is a chance of regaining them. It’s not even about vengeance anymore, it’s about rest. An end. Closure.

What comes around, goes around. Or how Santa Barbara was the so needed eye opening.

I was truly happy to see Abby and Lev being kind of silly and well, happy. They are the example of how you can heal when you learn to forgive both yourself and others. A extreme image compared to what we’ll see from Abby next time.

Fast-forward to Ellie after leaving the Rattlers village. Look at Ellie, she’s slightly delirious - Abby, Abby, Abby, Abby... - completely battered, skinny, with a fucked up side, half limping and pulling through out of sheer desesperation. She needs to do this, because if she doesn’t everything she left behind - Dina, JJ, Jackson - will be for nothing. She says it herself in her diary, she cannot think of that.

And it’s funny. It’s funny there she goes. She helps Abby down and follows both of them to two small boats where she makes a scranny and completely eaten up Abby battle with her in exchange of not hurting Lev.

The battle is sad. Abby contrary to Ellie had started healing so she didn’t want to battle. But it’s sad, these two beautiful human beings battling against each other as shadows of what they used to be, eaten away by life, hate and stupid decisions. You just feel like being over it because by this point it just feels completely stupid to keep warring.

And there, Ellie doesn’t kill Abby. We get a flashback of Joel playing the guitar that stops her from killing her.

And it’s funny, it’s funny because without Ellie both Lev and Abby would be rotting in those pillars. She left her home to kill a woman and ends saving both their lives! Why would she do that?

We end this Act 4 with Ellie alone, watching the last remains of her flame disappear into the nothing. Rock bottom. You cannot go down further. That’s what it means. She left her family, Tommy is crippled and kind of hates her, Jesse is death, Joel is death, Ryley is death.

And yet she left Abby leave. But why?

The answer to all this crazyness is in the last flashback of her and Joel and a few words that are thrown into the night.

“I was supposed to die in that hospital. My life would’ve fucking mattered. But you took it from me!”

Purpose.

Yes, purpose. A meaning to her life. A meaning that has been ripped from her hands multiples times in situations out of her control. Is this what she really wants? Her life to revolve around vengeance? Is this what she’s choosing?

So for once, she decides for herself and she decides that no. She doesn’t want that path. It’s not enough anymore.

Ellie was supposed to die with Riley, but she survived and found out that’s she’s immune.

Ellie traveled from one side to another of USA to be the solution to humanity’s problem. To help create a vaccine, whatever the cost. She was ready for it, she was ok with it. But it was ripped from her and lied about it multiple times.

Imagine thinking you’re immune but that it means absolutely nothing. After getting yourself mentally ready for whatever it would happen, you are told that you’re useless. That you cannot help. That you’re worthless.

Worthless.

She ends in Jackson, And learns she’s been betrayed by the person she trusted most, that she could have meant something instead of just living taking care of cows and patrolling.

It was impossible for Ellie to remain the same even before Joel’s death. Because Ellie is a very complicated character made of survivor guilt, a need to have a purpose in life, too many personal loses and self hating. Not only that, but all of this happens during her adolescence, a time which is hard to deal already without all these traumas piling up.

Joel’s killing is what makes the bomb explode. Suddenly she can do something, she can leave Jackson and she can revenge him. Again, purpose. She can feel alive because she’s got finally a direction. It’s just not the correct one, because we all know that hate is a terrible guide but for her, is the only guide amids the fog.

Ellie is a character that has been lost from the moment she learned she could have helped humanity. Chasing Abby was literally the easy path to take to give some meaning to her life.

When she was with her family at the ranch, I truly believe she wanted her purpose to be to protect her family, but it was something impossible for her to do in her condition. She tried hard, but she couldn’t do it. Her diary again sheds some light on these, on how she feels she has nothing else to give to them.

We know that, if Joel hadn’t been killed, she could have healed given enough time. She could have forgotten him. She could have find a motivation in Jackson. But there’s so much you can push something until it completely breaks.

I think that, at the end of the game, when she walks from the ranch she realizes she cannot keep going like this. That if she wants her life to mean something, she has to do it herself instead of just waiting for it to happen. And I feel I know which way she will take next and why.

Although the ending might seem sad, I found it strangely positive. The circle comes to a end, the guitar that Joel cleaned in the first seconds of the game, is put down by an Ellie lacking two of her left hand fingers impossible, to play it again that way. It is an act of moving on, but not of forgetting.

Of finally attaining peace of mind, and the chance of recovering herself.

#the last of us 2 #the last of us II #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou part 2 #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 narrative #the last of us 2 analysis

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smuttymess · 4 years

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bts astro soulmate reading | for jenn

sign: virgo sun | virgo moon | taurus rising

lover: kim namjoon | soulmate: kim taehyung

This reading is for Jenn, a cutie who triple biases Yoongi, Jimin and Namjoon but is regularly wrecked by Jungkook. And to complicate things further you are astrologically compatible with 2/3 of the Big Dick Kim line! It certainly can’t be easy living this way. Anyway, hope you enjoy this reading, love.

Where to begin, Virgo? Determined, intellectual, gracious and refined are some of the ways you are perceived by the world around you. With both your Sun and Moon in Virgo, these traits are fully amplified and realized on a daily basis and make up your sense of identity - your dedication to hard work, patience, fairness and learning acting as the pillars of your life. You are one of the strongest and most secure forces in the zodiac, and you value this piece of yourself highly as it is tied into your ego but also your truest self. A natural leader, the confidence exuded from your innately stable, curious and rational mind is very attractive to those around you who lack your focus and fortitude in their own lives. The desire and ability to help people is more or less in your DNA, and your friends, family, and colleagues are always happy to take your advice, which you are able to deliver plainly and matter-of-factly- a true gift heightened by your Taurus rising. The analyzer of the star signs, beneath your outwardly stoic exterior is a mind that is constantly hard at work, looking to improve or correct either yourself or society at large. To you, beauty lies in the ability to identify problems - of which there are endless amounts - and fix them methodologically. Full of ideas, solutions, and well-informed insights, alongside a meticulously detailed mind - you see things that other’s regularly miss. With such strong principles and a dedication to righteousness in all areas of your life, you no stranger to openly voicing your thoughts to others about how the world can and should be. If only the world would listen!

You are the pure embodiment of quantity over quality, with everything and everyone in your orbit serving as an irreplaceable, valuable part of your life. It is exceptionally rare for you to engage with any frivolity and and careless behavior, and you want those around you to exist on a similarly high wavelength. While you are sociable and curious, it is likely that you have a small circle of extremely close friends, family, and romantic relationships who you hold dear. Loyalty comes naturally to you when people provide themselves to be trustworthy and kind, and you enjoy deep, lifelong connections with those select few. Quality also exists in the way you present yourself, the food you eat, and the beverages you consume. You are certainly not someone that over-indulges in lavish meals or time-consuming practices, opting instead to buy high quality ingredients and cook at home. It is in the organic produce section of the grocery store where you see a man looking extremely lost as he navigates around all of the fruits and vegetables. You're pretty sure by just looking at him that he has not ever made a meal in his life, his large hands clumsily handling each piece of produce in search of the right one, and you hate seeing a poor attractive stranger in need. Are you lost? After successfully guiding him to the right section, your helper Virgo at work, you turn to walk away before he shyly asks if you could also help him locate another item in the store. I have to make dinner for my hyungs tonight and as you can see have no idea what I'm doing. Though typically not easily distracted, there is no way you're saying no to this man - who introduces himself as Kim Namjoon - or those strong arms that you can imagine wrapping around your frame, holding you close and moving over your curves.

The relationship that ensues between you and Namjoon is initially relatively platonic, with you two Earth signs moving at a notoriously glacial pace physically - choosing instead to build and truly get to know each other's minds first and foremost. Between two Virgos is an immediate mental connection as you are both incredibly intellectual, able to jump easily across a vast range of topics. With Namjoon, you don't even have to go far to feel a world away - enthralled in the depth of his intelligence, virtues and drive provided by his Mercury in Libra and Jupiter in Scorpio. Your chart equips you with a strength, wisdom, and shyness that mimics his own character, and that is highly attractive to him. Only when you feel that you've established full trust with each other's hearts can you move into the physical, which ranges from sweet and passionate to energetic and frenzied. You're not ones for exhibition or excessive experimentation, preferring your tried-and-true methods of getting each other off in the privacy of your own home. Foreplay for you normally consists of an intellectual sparring match over dinner, the ideas flowing back and forth before you find yourselves back at his apartment, lips locked as you your hands float down down his strong, firm back as he carries you to the bedroom. Two Virgos are typically not as passionate as they are skilled, and you both derive satisfaction from seeing the other go crazy under your expert touch. As his hands move gently down your frame before slipping two fingers in between your thighs, you are taken out of the harsh, thinking world and into a more sensual one where you are both able to lose yourselves. Nothing turns Namjoon more than seeing you squirm beneath him, panting as he fucks you with his perfectly thick cock. It is hard to not completely fall apart at his voice or his smirk above you, his eyes increasingly dark at the sight of your pure lust. You look so fucking good baby. Say my name and tell me how much you love this, I want to hear you. Louder, baby.

Two Virgos have the capacity for romance, but in the long term gets eclipsed by the high levels of criticism that exists in this pairing. You are both prone individually to being nit-picking and finding flaws in yourself and others out of a shared desire to seek perfection in everything. For you, nothing is ever enough, and the journey to perfection is unending. Unfortunately, when you apply this much criticism to a relationship without enough emotional investment or words of affection, it will inevitably buckle beneath such pressure. Ultimately, after the dust of the breakup settles, you and Namjoon are able to acknowledge your differences and accepting that you are better as friends. And this is a lifelong friendship, with both of you serving as a resource to bounce ideas off of and get valuable feedback from. Namjoon regularly confides in you about his concerns about the future of his career, knowing you will provide an objective and logical take. Meanwhile, you find comfort in knowing that regardless of all of your pursuits, Namjoon will always hold you to the highest possible standard and that he is always a simple phone call away. Confidants in your professional realms, you are not afraid to share in each others growth, taking pride in your individual growth.

Not one to jump from one romantic relationship to the next, you use your time post-Namjoon to fully immerse yourself in your work and your interpersonal relationships. It surprises you as much as anyone when you find yourself giving your phone number to Kim Taehyung at a small gathering of friends. A Capricorn Sun with his Moon in Aries, he is the embodiment of intense and deliberate charm, which he decides to use to break down your more reserved, shy Virgo. He finds your initial standoffishness very cute and refreshing in a sea of men and women that constantly try to get his attention, and immediately senses that there is much more to you than meets the eye than a serious, stubborn brat. While you are relatively disinterested at first - he seems silly and a potential charmer on this particular night - he does not stop until he leaves with your number, promising to see you soon. Admittedly, your poor reasonable Virgo heart never stood a chance against the Capricorn deliberate intention paired with his godly visuals. That night you definitely go home and fantasize about how it would feel like to have those fingers playing with your nipples and grasping at every inch of you.

You are impressed to learn that Tae offers more than a gorgeous face and lethal charm. More than anything, you want to be secure, and in dating Taehyung you see the opportunity to create a life of comfort, stability and peace. While highly motivated and a perfectionist in his own right (Sun and Mercury in Capricorn) Tae possesses a cool, relaxed approach to life and his place within it. This quality, aided by his Venus in Aquarius. that provides you with the ideal level of autonomy, nurturing, and support you need in a partner. He doesn't need you to leave him alone because he knows when to pull back and let you focus, returning to share and engage in stories of your separate interests. The mutual appreciation and respect allows you two to form a very strong mind-soul connection over time. While you are both slow to engage in physical relationship, when you do it is here that your relationship is taken to new heights. Sex with Tae is not always spontaneous, but you are both extremely focused on each others pleasure and he is known to surprise you by shaking up the routine. You could be prepping dinner before you feel his hands on you kisses all over your body before moving down to move your legs apart, his breath moving against your slit as he teases you. Wanting to ensure you are always in the present and not thinking about the next item on your to-do list, it is normal for his eyes to stay fixed on yours as he thrusts hard and deeply into you. He possess a magical ability to transport you to a much more uninhibited mindset - the growls leaving his mouth as your wetness drips down your thighs enough to make you forget you have the stove on. Phone sex when he is on the road is also a given, and he can make you come in record time simply by describing the way he wants you to touch your neck, the sensitive skin on your inner thighs. You body shakes as you hear him losing himself on the other end of the line. God, I can’t wait to fuck you my gorgeous girl. When I get home need you to be ready for me, just like you are right now. Send me a picture, I need to see how needy you are.

Your life with Taehyung is one built on mutual trust, respect and dedication. It is likely that you cultivate a minimalistic, stylish home that has all of the small comforts you desire and also showcases your individual personalities: Tae's photography on the walls and your many books and accolades lining the shelves. It is here that you enjoy a much-deserved refuge of the grind of everyday life before heading back out into the world to take it on full force the next morning. Though you approach life's challenges similarly (with full force and concentration) you are also able to show each other different ways of seeing the world: you with pure, pointed reason from your list experiences and he with more out-of-the-box, future-focused thinking. Tae's eccentric self allows you to access a more vulnerable and childlike side of yourself that was likely buried beneath the hardships of adulthood and daily life, served by his Jupiter in Sagittarius, which is spontaneous, inspirational and enthusiastic. He encourages you to occasionally stop and appreciate who you are, where you've been, and all that you've become - something you often miss in your quest for being the absolute best version of yourself. Together you establish yourselves as a team, working in tandem with each other to reach higher in your respective fields and deepen your understanding of life and love through each other's shared perspectives. With Tae, you learn that the journey in itself can be just as beautiful as the destination and there is perfection in the present. Ultimately, this is a duo that can and will navigate life's ups and down efficiently with confidence in each other and a tenacity, strength and care that is almost unmatched by any other astrological pairing.

#bts #bts astrology #astrology #astrology readings #horoscope #virgo #love #bts fic #creative writing

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vatrixsta · 5 years

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How Long Will I Love You (3/3)

That’s right - complete!!! Praise be to @csmarchmadness for the gun to the head and to the beautiful, lovely, amazing @the-corsair-and-her-quill for basically informing all story choices with the things she loves! I hope you enjoy the conclusion, darling!

And seriously, read all the awesome stuff being created by the talented ladies participating in March madness - I’m never online at the same time they are, but they’re bleeding out all these wonderful feels for us to enjoy!

Also on AO3

Remember when Emma wanted nothing more than to understand why Killian was acting so strangely?

Yeah, she was over that.

She officially wanted to bury her head in the sand and pretend none of this crazy bullshit was real, that fucking Tinkerbell wasn’t sitting in her living room, sipping a cup of tea, while her husband was asking after people Emma was apparently supposed to know, like her parents, who were also fucking fairy tale characters.

Part of her thought Killian had lost his mind, that maybe his books had created some kind of delusion that had led to this Tinkerbell taking advantage of him - maybe she was some kind of delusional fan who’d started talking to him because of his books. He was always too nice to his fans, especially the ones who seemed a little too into what he wrote.

She wanted to call a doctor, get Killian help, do anything to cure this delusion.

Except for that part of her, the really big one, that thought this ridiculous story sounded almost… familiar? Like on a gut level. And damn both their crazy asses, but neither Tinkerbell nor her husband thought they were lying. And neither of them behaved at all delusional, if you ignored every word that came out of their mouths. Which Emma was trying very hard to do.

“I don’t know who the note was from,” Tinkerbell added. “Just that it came by bird and said I needed to find the Savior. I confess that I didn’t spend much time analyzing it - the curse was coming and I used the last of my pixie dust to outrun it.” She held up a bottle. “This was attached to the note.”

Killian sighed. “A memory potion.”

“You always did have an eye for treasure,” Tinkerbell teased.

Great, and now Emma was also insanely jealous of the obviously old and easy rapport between her husband and a fucking fairy.

“Memory potion,” Emma said out loud. “Curses. Snow. Fucking. White.” She shook her head. “Killian, can I talk to you? Alone.”

“Of course, luv,” he said, having the decency to look chagrined for apparently forgetting she didn’t believe a word of this insanity.

Emma practically fled to their bedroom, hugging herself tightly around the middle as she looked at everything that made up their life. Pictures hung on the far wall, a wedding she remembered happening, when they promised to love, honor and always, always cherish. Henry and Killian behind the wheel of a sailboat, the most excited seven year old in history their first time out. Their first Christmas in Boston, the three of them sitting around the tree, happy and settled and a family.

How did he expect her to believe none of it was real?

Killian shut the door quietly behind him and Emma spun around to face him.

“You can’t expect me to just… accept this,” she hissed.

“It’s true, Emma.”

“It’s bullshit,” she countered. “Killian, it’s insane!”

He shook his head. “I admit, I’ve had many a day where I wondered if I had lost my mind, if I had imagined all this, if it really was just the book running away with me. But I knew in my gut it was all true. I just didn’t think we’d ever encounter it again. The curse… it was supposed to be forever. I’ve no idea what’s transpired, luv, but if your family is in danger--”

“I don’t have a family!” Emma yelled. “I have Henry and I have you and that is the end of my family and we are fine!”

Killian approached her slowly, in that way he had, like she was feral but he wasn’t worried about her hurting him, only herself when she inevitably lashed out. Then his arms were around her and she felt that same calm, that same safety she always felt, even in all this madness. His hand cradled the back of her head, his fingertips rubbing soothing little circles into her scalp as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I know you’re afraid,” he whispered.

“I’m not afraid,” she said, but that was exactly what it was. She was afraid her husband was crazy and even more afraid of the idea that he wasn’t. She’d spent her whole life knowing one thing for absolute certain: no one had ever wanted her, really wanted her, until Henry and having him changed her whole life. Her baby wanted her and then they met Killian and she suddenly knew what it was really like, having someone put you first, having someone be there, a husband and a father, the way no foster parent or assholes who dumped their kid by the side of the road ever could have.

“Aye, I agree, you’re quite fearless,” he chuckled. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t know fear. I promise you,” he said quietly. “The truth is nothing to fear. You may not be terribly happy with it just yet, but the only thing it changes are some of the details. You’re Henry’s mother. You are the love of my bloody life. And your parents… wanted you, Emma. They wanted you more than anything and if I know them, they’re waiting for you to find them one last time.”

He held the bottle up to her. The fucking memory potion. Like that was a real thing.

She looked carefully into his eyes. “You aren’t telling me something.”

“I’ve told you the truth,” he said quietly. “The one thing I can’t tell you is something only you can. And only when you’re truly yourself.” He pressed the bottle into her palm. “You’re a bloody hero, Swan. You’re incapable of doing anything but the right thing. Trust your gut, Emma. It’ll tell you what to do.”

Her gut. The thing that had kind of believed this crazy story from the moment she heard it. The thing that knew there was something wrong with Killian all those months ago.

Emma took the potion.

….

ONE YEAR AGO - THE TOWN LINE

“We’ll go back to the Enchanted Forest?” Emma clarified.

Regina shook her head slightly. “All of us. Except Henry. He will stay here because… he was born here.”

Dread sunk like a stone in Emma’s belly. “Alone?” No, no Henry would not be alone, abandoned by the side of the road - right where she was.

“No,” Regina said, echoing the denial Emma felt. “You will take him. Because you’re the savior. And you were created to break the curse. And once again, you can escape it.”

It should have been the answer to her prayers. Except… there was David and Mary Margaret, who had finally started to feel like her parents, the one she’d lain awake crying for more nights than she could count. There was Neal and he didn’t deserve to lose his son anymore than Henry deserved to lose his father. There was Regina, who had raised Henry… and there was Hook, who stood to the side, looking like something was dying right in front of him.

Emma knew how he felt.

“I-I don’t want to. We’ll both go back with everyone.”

Regina looked as gutted as Emma had ever seen her. “That’s not an option. I can’t be with him. If I don’t pay the price, none of this will work.”

“If someone who wasn’t part of the original curse were to try and escape with them… would it work?” Hook asked, a considering look in his eye.

Emma looked at him sharply. Some traitorous flutter of hope she hadn’t known existed flamed to life in her breast. Stupid hope. It never learned that life wasn’t fair.

“Perhaps,” Regina said.

“What if Neal and I accompanied them?” He held a hand toward Emma. “Not that I doubt your ability to handle any foe with your usual brand of punching and kicking, but perhaps you need not start totally from scratch when it comes to rebuilding your lives.”

The hopeful look in Neal’s eyes died almost immediately when Regina spoke again.

“The magic in this curse comes from Pan. He designed it to punish Rumple most of all and as his son, Neal would be unable to escape.” Regina glanced at Hook. “The pirate, however… should have no problem escaping with you, if that’s what you want.”

“I prefer making my own choices in this world and frankly… there’s nothing left for me in the Enchanted Forest,” Hook said, but the way he looked at Emma, the way he didn’t disguise the longing in his eyes, made it very clear to her exactly why he wanted to go with them.

The curse’s thunder sounded in the distance.

“Emma, you have to go,” Mary Margaret said firmly, holding back tears. “All of you, if you can,” she added, nodding toward Hook.

“No,” Emma said, the panic clawing up inside her. It felt like the social worker was coming again, forcing her to leave another home, another family, another life that she should have known would be like all the others, but she always let herself hope, why didn’t she learn-- “N-no. I’m-I’m not… done. I’m the savior, right? I’m supposed to bring back all the happy endings. That’s what Henry always said.”

Mary Margaret smiled at her, a strong but fragile thing. “Happy endings aren’t always what we think they will be. Look around you. You’ve touched the lives of everyone here.”

“But we’re a family,” Emma whimpered.

“Yes, and we always will be,” she promised. “You gave us that.”

“You and Henry can be a family,” David said, circling around them protectively. “You can get your wish. You can be like everyone else. You can be happy.” He jerked a thumb in Hook’s direction. “You can even take in a stray or two.”

Mary Margaret laughed a little. “It’s time to believe in yourself, Emma. It’s time for you to have hope.”

Regina moved closer to Emma, resolve written all over her face. “I’ve known you for some time and all I wanted was for you to get the hell out of my life so I can be with my son. But really… what I want is for Henry to be happy. We have no choice. You have to go.”

Emma put on her big girl pants. “Okay.”

She said goodbye to Neal, again to her parents, to everyone - Henry took it hardest, of course, blaming himself, losing the dad he’d just met. Then Regina brought out the big guns.

“When the curse washes over us, it will send us all back. Nothing will be left behind. Including your memories. It’s just what the curse does. Storybrooke will no longer exist. It won’t ever have existed. So these last years will be gone from all your memories. Now we’ll go back to just being stories again.”

“What will happen to us?” Emma asked.

Regina shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a happy ending.”

Regina chuckled. “It’s not. But I can give you one. I can give you all a chance at one, least.”

“You can preserve our memories?” Emma asked hopefully.

“No, I can… do what I did to everyone else in this town. And give you new ones.”

“You cursed them and they were miserable,” Emma reminded her.

“They didn’t have to be.” Regina took Emma’s hands. “My gift to you is good memories, a good life for you and--” She looked to Henry, who moved to her side. “Henry. You’ll have never given him up. You’ll have always been together.”

It was probably the first truly selfless gift Regina had given anyone in decades. The idea of it - of never having given Henry up - was something Emma would have said she wanted more than anything… until now.

Regina gestured toward Hook. “I know what to do with them, but what sort of connection do you want?”

Hook looked at Emma. “Perhaps… new friends? Headed on an adventure in the same direction? It’ll be up to us then, what happens next.”

Emma nodded her head slowly. “Up to us. Yeah. Good.” But something about it didn’t sit right with her. She hugged her parents again, said as much of a goodbye as she could get out, then she and Henry were shuffling to the bug. Killian was speaking with Regina in low tones, an insistent look on his face. And then he was piling into the car with them, the back seat, throwing her a pained smile. Regina had changed his clothes, given him a prosthetic hand in place of a hook. He looked… good.

“This is quite the vessel you captain, Swan.”

She returned his pained smile. It was probably the last thing he would ever say to her as… well, as him. This was the last time she was ever going to see Captain Killian Jones, Captain Hook. Where they were going… he was going to be someone else, more than she was. Because at least she would still be Emma Swan, just with a few years patched in here and there. She’d grown up in that world. Killian didn’t. He was from a literal fairy tale and he was going to be shoved into the Land Without Magic.

Who was he going to be?

But Emma didn’t have time to think about that. Because the curse was coming. She put the bug in gear. Kept her eyes on the rear view mirror as long as she could…

… Henry smiled at her. Emma shook her head, lost in thought. Killian was in the backseat, hoping to catch a few winks before they traded off in a few hours. He looked wide awake. His eyes met hers. She smiled. He tried to smile back. Something was bothering him.

Emma decided she’d ask him about it after they got to Boston.

….

They stared at each other for a long time. Emma felt the bottle drop slowly out of her hand. It bounced off the carpeted floor of their bedroom and she swallowed the last of its taste from her mouth.

“Hook,” she whispered.

“Aye,” he agreed sadly.

Both sets of memories were fighting in her head - the way she’d believed they met and fallen in love for the last year and the way they really met and…

It felt like her husband was dead, which was ridiculous, because he was right in front of her, staring at her without a drop of hope in his eyes - he looked as though his wife was dead, too.

In a way, she was.

“What the hell happened?” she muttered.

He shook his head. “I did nothing but consider that when we first arrived here. I can only assume something went wrong or perhaps Regina decided this would be easier for us and did what she liked.” He shrugged. “After awhile, the why of it didn’t seem to matter as much as what I was meant to do now. Assuming I hadn’t simply lost my mind, which I confess I seriously considered for a time.” He tapped the side of his head. “The memories were all so real and in this world, the idea that I’d invented a three hundred year old pirate often seemed more plausible than the idea that it was all so tragically real.”

“You lied to me,” she whispered, trying not to cry. It wasn’t a fair accusation - she probably understood what he’d done better than he ever would. But Emma didn’t feel terribly fair at the moment. She felt like everything she’d ever wanted had just been ripped away from her.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he pled. “Anything I chose would hurt you somehow. I didn’t think we’d ever go back, so in the end, it seemed the best option in a sea of bad choices.”

“So you just decided to fake it for the rest of your life?”

“Don’t,” he warned. “You can hate me if you like, but you know damned well what I feel for you is real.”

“What I know is that all of the fake bullshit in my head made me think I loved you,” Emma hissed. “It ruined whatever spark of something, of possibility that was between us. Oh, God - Henry. How the hell do we explain this to Henry?”

“We don’t,” Killian said quietly. “Not yet, at least. There was only one potion. My feelings for him haven’t changed either, so it should be no problem to continue faking it for the boy’s sake.”

The bitterness in his voice was as heartbreaking as it was infuriating. Emma had a powder keg of rage inside of her and absolutely no one else to direct it at.

“Your feelings may be real, but I feel taken advantage of, like we were both taken advantage of,” she whispered. “I get that you were backed into a corner, but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel like an idiot who got tricked.”

His face looked stricken. “I didn’t - I never intended--”

But Emma didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Mostly because she was afraid of how terrified she was - it felt like nothing in her life was real, was hers, definitely not in her control. She was going to keep lashing out at him if they kept talking and she’d already done enough damage. Deep down inside, she knew this wasn’t his fault - but the emotions that were in the driver’s seat didn’t particularly care.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “I was kidding myself. This life? It was never real. It was never in the cards for the Savior. We have to go back. I have to save everyone. Because that’s what I do.”

She spun away from him before he could say anything else and pulled down suitcases for both of them by habit. She knew what they’d both need.

“Pack a bag for Henry,” she ordered. “We’ll pick him up early from school and head back to Storybrooke. Assuming it’s actually there,” she added bitterly.

At the last moment, Emma grabbed the one thing she knew she’d need - her red leather jacket. Her armor. The reminder she needed of who she really was and who she was never meant to be.

…

The drive seemed to take a lot longer than it actually did, given Storybrooke was only a couple of hours from Boston. Henry had been ecstatic at the idea of a spontaneous work trip, “just like old times!” and he’d been quite taken with sharing his backseat with Tinkerbell, who kindly confirmed for him that yes, it was her real name. They made up a story about her being a big fan of Killian’s books and that’s how she found Emma. It made her skin crawl, lying to Henry. It made her skin crawl how easily Killian did it. Then again, she was no slouch - she basically lied for a living. Everything made her skin crawl, really. She was ashamed to admit that if someone told her everyone in Storybrooke would be safe without her, she would take the fake memories over reality in a heartbeat.

She was almost surprised when the town line was there, right where she’d last seen it.

They crossed over without incident, dropping Tink off at the convent to check in with the other fairies, assuming everyone was back again. Killian offered to get Henry settled while Emma went to check in with her parents - if everyone was under another curse, they agreed, it would be best if she tried to reason with them alone.

Something she didn’t have to do, it turned out. Her father hugged her, and it was so strange and so comforting all at once that Emma had to stop herself from bursting into tears. Her massively pregnant mother hugged her, too, and Emma tried to keep all the confusion and jealousy and reluctant happiness at bay. She needed to focus on the problem at hand - whatever had brought everyone back had also taken the last year of their memories away, which meant everyone still needed to be on red alert. Emma didn’t have time to feel like an outsider in the only family that was supposed to be real to her. She had Henry and that would always, always be enough.

When she returned to the room they were renting at Granny’s - Henry would never understand why they were staying with David and Mary Margaret and the loft was cramped plus Emma was avoiding the Hook-is-sort-of-my-husband reveal as long as possible - Henry was fast asleep on the pull out bed in the main room. Killian was sitting in a chair in the bedroom, staring out the window - brooding.

On his left arm, was a familiar silver hook.

He gestured toward her with it after she’d shut the door. “Belle confirms it turned up in the pawn shop when the town did. No sign of the Crocodile. Or Neal.”

Neal. She hadn’t given him much thought, something that made her feel guilty - he was Henry’s father and even if Henry didn’t know him now, he would again.

“There are more people missing,” Emma said quietly. “David says they’ve had a hard time getting a head count because there are new people, too.”

Killian pursed his lips. “New people could mean the person who cast the curse. No one really thinks it was Regina, as her memories seem to be as lost as the rest.”

“You don’t believe that?” Emma asked.

He shrugged. “I made my desires for our curse very explicit to her and again when she took my hook and gave me modern clothing. I’ve no idea why she decided to torture me this way, but it was quite effective, don’t you think?” It was then she noticed he’d also found his old flask and by the looks of him, he’d been indulging since Henry went to bed.

“I doubt she was trying to torture you,” Emma argued.

“Who knows why the Evil Queen does anything she does?” He shook his head. “At any rate, whatever her reasons, the blame still lies with me.”

“Hook,” Emma admonished, and his moniker felt as sharp on her tongue as the hook that was once again reunited with his left arm.

“I swore that I would win your heart without any trickery and the first chance I got, I made a mockery of that vow.” He took a heavy swig from his flask. “I assure you, Swan, however much you hate me, I hate myself more.”

I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever could. I’ve just never been able to take the chance that every instinct I have about you is wrong, the way they always are about a guy I really, really like. And nothing in the whole world feels real to me anymore.

Her heart was the one place Emma was not brave, at least not the Emma who hadn’t been cursed by Regina. So she went into the bathroom to change into pajamas and when she emerged, he was still brooding out the window, like some kind of guardian gargoyle.

She climbed under the covers. “Come to bed,” she ordered. “Henry won’t understand if you sleep somewhere else.” That wasn’t why she wanted him to come to bed, of course, but it was the only reason she could admit out loud.

He was silent for a long moment, then muttered a bitter “As you wish” and joined her in bed, atop the covers.

Emma refused to let herself cry.

….

Regina was devastated Henry didn’t remember her. Emma felt bad for her, particularly when she witnessed a very angry Killian - once again sporting his prosthetic instead of a hook - obviously interrogating her about her role in his half cursed state of being. Emma imagined she told him a version of what she’d told Emma herself - that she hadn’t done anything other than what they’d asked and if things got screwed up, it wasn’t her problem. Emma tended to believe her, mostly because Regina never could give up a chance to gloat when something she’d done had made her enemies miserable.

Which wasn’t really fair, because Regina was as miserable as a person could be with Henry not knowing who she was, but Emma still didn’t feel much like being fair.

David looked like he wanted to murder Hook when they dropped the marriage bomb, but Emma quickly diffused the situation by very loudly reminding him they were both cursed. Killian opened his mouth to stupidly confess his sins, but Emma elbowed him in the ribs to keep him quiet.

“The last thing we need is David going psycho protective dad on you,” she explained later. “Besides, this part is between you and me. No one else.”

That was also the excuse Emma gave herself not to mention the status of her relationship to Mary Margaret. The Queen of Hope would probably pounce on the idea that Emma still had feelings for her fake husband and that was the last thing Emma needed to be distracted by when they had a town to save.

It surprised no one but Emma when their new foe was revealed to be the Wicked Witch. They still had no idea who she was, but tensions were running high and everyone had started snapping at each other. Emma knew she was the number one offender, but that did little to cool her always at the ready temper. She didn’t know how to stop being so angry, how to stop grieving her broken heart over her fake marriage, how to separate the Killian she’d lived with for the last year from the real thing, how to just get over it already.

It was after a particularly heated argument Emma and Killian had in front of everyone in the middle of their room at Granny’s over Henry’s wellbeing - Emma wanted Killian to take him back to Boston and Killian argued the boy was safer here, with both his magical mothers and the rest of his family around him - that Regina apparently finally had enough. She waited until the others had filed out before she pulled Emma aside.

“I didn’t want to say anything. It’s not my place. But Emma, you have to realize what this was.”

“Why?” Emma muttered. “What was it?”

Regina shook her head sadly. “You really don’t know, do you? Funny how I’d forgotten how stubbornly rigid you are.”

“If you have a point, I’d appreciate you getting to it.”

“Fine.” Regina mirrored her defiant stance. “I gave Hook cursed memories along with yours, that’s why he had them rolling around in there. But he wasn’t supposed to be your husband, he was supposed to be an author Henry admired that moved in next door who was victim to the same fire that ruined all of your things - an experience that bonded you and had you agreeing to share a ride to your new home in Boston. That was the reality I put in your heads. He definitely wasn’t supposed to remember he was a 300 year old pirate Captain who specializes in making googoo eyes at you.”

Emma shook her head. “You already told us this--”

“My magic didn’t do this,” Regina said, raising her voice. “Yours did.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “What? I didn’t do--”

“You’re like a baby with a blowtorch,” Regina muttered. “You have no idea how powerful you are and you refuse to learn. You didn’t want Hook to be someone you could lose, someone who could fall through the cracks. So you made sure he was tied to you and Henry, tied as deeply as possible in the Land Without Magic. You made him Henry’s father so he didn’t have to grow up without one and you made him your husband because you wanted him.”

“Look, I don’t need your pop psychology--”

“And,” Regina said, louder still, “you made sure he kept his memories because you didn’t want the fake version of Killian Jones I would have had to create for him to exist in the modern world. You wanted the real thing. You wanted him to love you the same way he always has. No substitutions for Miss Swan, hm?” Regina shook her head. “Get a handle on your magic. We have something wicked to fight. And get a handle on your love life, because the way things stand right now? Your mopey, guilt ridden pirate is going to get himself killed. And while that wouldn’t exactly be the worst thing that ever happened, I imagine Henry would be fairly upset by it.”

Emma tried to fold her arms in the intimidating way she’d used since she was young, but she feared they were more cradling her chest, forcing her heart to stay in place than anything else. . “You’re just guessing,” she said stubbornly.

“Maybe you’re right,” Regina said suddenly. “Maybe I am wrong. Because the only way you’d be able to override Pan’s curse and my alterations to it, would be if you truly loved one another. And to be frank, I’m not sure you believe in anything enough to truly love someone other than Henry. I’m not sure if I do anymore, either.” Regina gestured toward the door. “He’s staying with your parents tonight. He’s excited about having the loft bed to himself. I suggest you use the time to put your house in order.”

Rolling her eyes at Regina’s imperious tone, Emma tried to deny everything she’d just said as the other woman left her alone.

The trouble was, it all rang frighteningly, embarrassingly true.

Emma sank down to the end of the bed and forced herself to sort through her shit. The last year, Killian’s behavior, how hard he’d tried to both stay away from her and be with her. What the hell did she expect him to do? She had as much as told him so - he had to make a choice and then live with it. And if Regina was right -- and goddamnit, she is, she’s right -- Emma had done this to him either because she was so selfish that she wanted him, the real him, even if he wasn’t getting entirely the real her… or, even more terrifying, it had happened unconsciously because she loved him.

Truly.

Before she could think about it much further, the outer door opened and closed quietly and she heard Killian’s hesitant footfalls come closer.

“Swan,” he said tightly. “Henry’s with your parents. Since he won’t be with us, I thought I’d give you a night of peace by seeking my accommodations elsewhere.”

He was very carefully looking just over her head, his expression intentionally blank. She’d been hurting him, punishing him the way he’d always feared she would and all he’d done was the best he could in an impossible situation. He’d tried to protect her heart at every turn, even when his own was hurting and confused and at war with that strange moral compass he’d always had.

This had to stop. Now.

“Regina said something to me tonight,” Emma said, her voice hoarse.

Killian finally looked at her. “Swan, are you crying?” he asked, the worry flooding his tone.

“Am I?” Emma reached her hand up to touch the tear tracks that had made their way down her cheeks. “I guess I am. It’s funny, when you make it a rule that you won’t let anything make you cry anymore… it kind of sneaks up on you.”

“What the hell did Regina say to you?” Now he looked murderous again, which was kind of sweet, actually. That was her life - a murderous pirate fake-husband. For a kid who grew up alone and unloved, it actually didn’t sound too bad.

“This is all my fault,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. Killian, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he soothed, flipping from murderous to concerned in a heartbeat. “If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that none of this is your fault.”

“Killian, I’m so damaged that even my magic is repressed and it only comes out when I’m desperately afraid of losing something,” she explained. “Regina thinks - and I do, too, I mean, I don’t think, I know - all of those walls I have, those stupid walls, it’s why you were basically tortured for a year. I did it. I didn’t want some fake version of you living down the hall. I wanted you. And my magic just… did it. You didn’t trick me. If anything, I’m the one who tricked you, except… I guess I didn’t, because you always knew how you felt.” Emma didn’t know what else to say and Killian was looking at her with the most inscrutable expression. “I could use a little feedback here,” she prompted.

He shook his head, as if coming out of a daze. “You called me Killian.” His voice was tinged with wonder.

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s your name.”

“You haven’t called me anything but Hook since you remembered,” he said. “You haven’t…”

Her chest hurt again from how much she’d hurt him. “Stupid walls,” she offered, the only explanation she had.

Killian took a step toward her, then another, until he could fall to his knees at her feet. He took her hand in his, brought the back of it to his mouth for a kiss. She was still wearing her fake wedding ring. So was he. She still had Liam’s ring around her neck. His actual ring, if she was a betting woman - her magic had made sure the moments they shared with false memories were still as real as a land without magic could allow them to be.

“I like your walls,” Killian confided, as if telling her a secret. He looked up at her with the tenderest expression in his blue, blue eyes. It didn’t really matter if she met him on a crowded sidewalk or under a pile of bodies - it was understanding at first sight and everything they’d shared had been real, even the things that weren’t.

“I think I was right before,” she whispered back. “No one else could have loved me well enough to bring them down.”

“Oh, Emma,” he chuffed. “I don’t know if you give me too much credit or yourself too little. Perhaps both.”

“How do you do this?” she muttered. “How do you love me like this? Like it’s just… easy? I’m not… i’m not easy. I know I’m not. But it’s as if you just… like me this way.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Almost as funny as you liking me the way I am - all tortured, revenge obsessed-turned-Emma Swan obsessed, so much that you forced me to stay exactly who I was even in the face of an unbreakable curse.”

Emma groaned. “Your ego is never going to come back down to earth after this.”

“Aye,” he agreed cheerfully. “But this is the monster you created. You’re going to have to live with him.”

Emma brought her palms to his cheeks; stroked his ridiculous cheekbones with her thumbs, paying extra attention to the scar on his right. He was perfect, even in the places that weren’t. Real, even the ways he hadn’t been. No one else would have been right - would have been this right. No one else would have had her magic crying out at the idea of taking any part of him away.

“I guess I can do that,” she promised, resting her forehead against his.

She had to play it a little cool. He still had to be the grown up in the relationship.

…

They buried Neal.

Henry got his memories back. Everyone did.

They beat the witch.

Emma’s little brother was the most perfect baby she’d ever seen.

Until eight months later, when little Hope came screaming into the world.

Henry was the best man at their wedding - the one the whole town and one very fussy baby attended.

The fake memories had been good. Really, really good.

The real ones were better.

#cs fic #how long will i love you #csmarchmadness #cssecretsanta2k18 #the-corshair-and-her-quill #completed #MY GOD COMPLETED

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midnightiscoming-kasabian · 5 years

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Kasabian's Serge Pizzorno: 'I think there'll be a social media rebellion'

Kasabian guitarist Serge Pizzorno talks to Sky News about new solo project The S.L.P, as well as his plans for the band.

By Gemma Peplow | Photo: Neil Bedford

Serge Pizzorno's shaggy shock of jet black hair, once instantly recognisable, is now sharp-fringed and shaved, a striking leopard print dyed into the back in a style worthy of Instagram dreams, should he be so inclined.

He's not, really. While Kasabian and his new solo project, The S.L.P, have social media accounts, documenting every detail of his personal life, online is not for Pizzorno. It has to be about art, otherwise what's the point, he says. So the hair (definitely a work of art) does feature on The S.L.P's Instagram, along with his promotional shots, but these are about as close to a selfie as he gets.

Sitting in his publicist's office in north London, the singer is softly spoken, considered, a different character to the man with the swagger you see on stage. He is discussing social media and dating apps, the idea of "presenting that perfect version of yourself" online.

"It's to my detriment, because I probably overthink it, but I think there has to be an artistic voice to it or I'm not bothered," he says. "I can't just be, I don't know... just normal photos. That's not me. When other people do it, it's fine because whatever, that's their thing. It's probably not the way you should use it if you want to get massive, but I don't care."

Basically, don't expect to see eggs on toast breakfast snaps or "Friyay" glass-clinks on Pizzorno's social media feeds any time soon.

"I just don't care for that. My privacy is very important to me; my family and my home, my world, that's sacred. Someone called it the fourth dimension, where we've opened a world where you can see into people's lives in an insane way, where you're literally letting the whole world see exactly everything you do. I don't know about that for me. I like to keep that, that's mine."

This insane way is the inspiration behind Favourites, the first single from Pizzorno's debut solo album as The S.L.P, which features Mercury Prize-nominated rapper Little Simz.

As a father to two young sons, is social media something he worries about? Pizzorno is confident we will come full circle.

"I think people will look back on this place and where we've got to, and go, 'What were you thinking? What? You did what?' I think there'll definitely be a rebellion against it and it will go back to people having their own lives and thoughts to themselves."

Pizzorno channels his own thoughts through music. When Kasabian decided to take a break after 2017's For Crying Out Loud, their fifth consecutive number one album, sixth overall, the plan was to "just be quiet for a bit". After more than 20 years together - stadiums around the world sold out, Brits, NME and Q awards in the bag, a Glastonbury headline slot ticked off - they felt they needed time off.

But Pizzorno has discovered he doesn't do relaxation very well. Certainly not your fortnight-in-the-sun-type relaxation, anyway. Anyone who has ever been in the presence of his best mate and Kasabian frontman Tom Meighan, the hyperactive stream-of-consciousness yin to Pizzorno's very chilled yang, will know he is a man who is always on the go; never able to sit still, or keep quiet, for long. But it turns out it was Pizzorno who needed something to keep his brain occupied during the break.

The Kasabian radio silence - temporary, he assures - brings us to The S.L.P. Starting out as some "spare music on a hard drive", the project has transformed into an album, released at the end of August, and a tour in September.

"We realised we've, Kasabian, not had a summer off, ever," says Pizzorno. "So we decided, let's just take a year out. Just be quiet for a bit, with the band.

"I suddenly thought, I'm gonna go mad if I don't do anything. So, I had this music in a hard drive…"

Fascinated by the idea of alter-egos and different personas, the album has a "meanwhile concept", he says, excitedly. "It's a sort of comic book thing where it's like, 'Meanwhile, in the Batcave'... and there's Batman and there's Bruce Wayne. There's me in the band and meanwhile, I've got this as well. I love that world.

"I had these three bits of 'meanwhile music', I called them, and I thought, well, they'd make a great beginning, middle and end to an album. All I have to do is fill in the gaps... with, whatever I wanted really. It's all come out of necessity, I suppose. The timing was right."

The result is The S.L.P. album, an 11-track record book-ended by the tracks Meanwhile... In Genova, and Meanwhile… In The Silent Nowhere.

Recorded and produced by Pizzorno at his studio The Sergery, set up at his home in the Leicestershire countryside, the album comes from a mix of influences, everything from hip-hop to psychedelic-funk and trance.

In parts, it is unmistakably the Kasabian writer and guitarist's work, but at other times completely different. While the Favourites opening riff would not sound out of place on the band's third album, West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum, second single Nobody Else sounds like it should be played as the sun comes up in Ibiza. Not bound by the ties that come with being one of the biggest UK bands of the 21st century, Pizzorno says he felt free "to just see what it could be".

"I love making, I just like creating... If I've not had a day, if I've not made something in the day then I feel a bit… I don't know, I just freak out a bit. I mean, it doesn't necessarily have to be a song. Just, you know, an idea, or a drawing or a video. It's at the forefront all the time and that's kind of where I feel like, 'yeah, I'm all right now'."

The S.L.P. has "opened up another part of my brain", he says. "I think that was the thing, it was the freedom of not having to consider 80,000 people in a field. It's like, 'Ah, this can be a different thing'."

Inevitably, solo work has invited discussion about the end of Kasabian. But Pizzorno says his sideline has helped him see the band from "a new, fresh perspective… [and now] I'll know exactly the kind of way we need to go with the next chapter.

"I've just gone down the rabbit hole and I've collected a few new treasures and I've bought them back, you know?"

Taking time out, being careful not to saturate, is important, he says. "I think it's healthy. And every now and again there needs to be a storm in the harbour, man... It would be nice if people are going 'what's gonna happen?' or, 'Is that it, was that the last time I'm ever going to see them play?'

"So then, the story begins again, which I think is a good place to be, to keep everyone on their toes - including the band, I mean me included, everyone."

Formed with Meighan and their mates Chris Edwards and Chris Karloff (who left the band during the recording of second album Empire) while they were still at school in Leicester in the 1990s, Kasabian rose to fame with the release of their self-titled debut album in 2004. Fifteen years later, they are one of just a handful of those early-noughties indie bands left standing, undoubtedly one of the biggest British bands of their era.

It is no mean feat, and yet it is easy for the successes to become normalised, says Pizzorno.

"Being together for so long it's amazing how the achievements are expected," he says. "Oh, sold out the O2 again - I mean that's a massive thing; two, three nights. Or headlining Glastonbury, five number one albums.

"There's these mad facts that you don't... process [at the time]. But when you think, you go, f***, that's massive... It's an incredible place to be but..."

It comes with certain pressures?

"Kind of. Yes and no. I mean... because we got where we got I think it sort of doesn't really matter now. It would have been more pressure if we'd not achieved what we wanted to.

"We just sort of... rolled with it, really. It's all about new ideas, and new things and new albums. Changing. We've been afforded the luxury of being able to experiment and people going with it. So yes, it's been quite a ride, I've got to say."

Kasabian, he reassures once again, is "safe and sound" and his band mates have all been supportive of The S.L.P. "They've been so sound about it all. I've been blessed."

With the album finished, now all he has to do is think about performing live.

On stage with Kasabian he is the guitarist and backing vocalist, taking the frontman reigns only occasionally for the odd song. The S.L.P. live show will be quite different.

"In my head I have an idea of what I want the show to be but converting it, that's going to be an interesting thing. I know for sure that I don't want it to be anything like... it's going to be a completely different show to a Kasabian show."

He pauses: "I want the outcome to be the same in terms of... euphoric connection. A place for everyone to come to lose their minds. But I want to get there in a whole different way. I'm coming at it from a different angle. It's a different sport."

The album features the collaboration with Little Simz, who was "so good; it was a real honour to work with her", and slowthai, another rapper and 2019 Mercury Prize nominee.

"These [are] young, British artists that I think are at the forefront of music and to get them on the album was amazing," he says. "Moving forward I'd like to do that more. I think those two especially because I'm just a big fan of what they do."

I ask about his life in Leicester. Or more specifically, his recent appearance alongside pal Mark Ronson on Gogglebox, and why viewers were taken to a sofa in east London rather than his Leicestershire home. (Full disclosure here: I too am from Leicester, and it's not often we get to see the city on the telly.)

"Maybe next time," he laughs. "It's a very proud city, isn't it? We are very proud of our city. It's weird, isn't it? That home thing, that Leicester thing."

I last spoke to Pizzorno back in 2016, for the city's local paper, as Kasabian were heading out to play their beloved Leicester City's stadium, the King Power, for the first time; a lifetime's dream fulfilled to celebrate the club's 5,000-1 Premier League win.

Pizzorno, Meighan and Edwards have all remained rooted in Leicestershire, never swayed by the lure of celebrity, and always do their best to champion the city and put on special gigs for their fans there.

"I think [being in Leicester] has only helped us," says Pizzorno. "It's nice to be on the fringes, on the outside, and still be outsiders. I think it's important for artists to be on the outside.

"It's a mad old place. But I love it… I just feel like I learn more being there than I would anywhere else. I think you get more of a sense of the world. It can be a bit of a bubble anywhere else. I've got a lot of my friends who I grew up with and they always make me laugh, fascinate me, and their stories are amazing. I feel more connected there than I would anywhere else."

Kasabian want to inspire children from Leicester, from other less recognised towns and cities, he says.

"I feel like we were kids from a little place outside of the centre, and we had these dreams and we had this intent to try and communicate this message with the world and bring as many people together as possible. I want to show that you can do some mad stuff… I think it's important to show the next generation of kids coming up. Especially in our home town."

I ask how Tom is. He grins. "Tom's Tom, you know. There's only one. He's an amazing man. You can only be that good at something if… well, he's just Tom.

"We don't occupy the same orbit… we're not smashing into each other. If you had two Toms…" He makes a whooshing sound. "That's why it works. And it's been like that since 1997. I mean, like any family, there's arguments and there's fights and there's shouting. But that's a very small percentage of the best time ever. You know, like any normal Christmas Day. We've all got madness in our families. But we've got mad love as well."

After more than 20 years together, a seventh album in the pipeline, now all fathers, a bit wiser, definitely more grown-up, it would seem Kasabian have overcome any hurdles that might cause a band to split. Is this it forever now?

"Yeah, I'd like to think so. You know, bar anything major. You never know what's round the corner, but we do feel like we've come too far now.

"There's not many bands that have been sort of big in two decades. You know, that's always the thing, if you can move into the next decade and still be around… if we're making relevant music and the live shows stand up and have still got that energy and bring that carnival like no one else can, we'll be around for a long time."

Serge Pizzorno's debut album, The S.L.P, is out on 30 August. The S.L.P tour starts in Glasgow on 5 September and finishes in Paris on 17 September, and includes two dates in London.

news.sky.com

#kasabian #sergio pizzorno #the s.l.p.#interviews #interviews 2019

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zebukafm7-blog · 5 years

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Reasons why taking that long vacation to a new city is the perfect-fix

There’s no better feeling than setting a courageous goal for yourself and defying the odds to achieve it; jumping headfirst into the unknown with an open heart and an open mind. While you may be comfortable living in your hometown or your cozy college city, sometimes you need to ask yourself if you’re truly taking advantage of the world’s opportunities — especially while you’re in your 20s.

Your 20s are your years of freedom, before mortgages, kids and general grown-up responsibilities kick in. Too many people let fear of the unknown stop them from taking chances and forget that only with great risk comes great reward. Moving alone to a new place (whether it’s the other side of the country or the other side of the world) is an experience like no other: part terrifying, part exhilarating.

If you decide to take the plunge and move to a new city where you don’t know a soul, here are some of the wonderful things you’ll discover along the way:

You’ll make new friends who are refreshingly different from your old friends

A foreign city opens up a diverse mix of people and cultures, including locals who have vastly different perspectives and experiences to yours, and will enrich and widen your outlook on life.

There’s no cast of “Mean Girls” telling you whom you can and can’t be friends with. Make connections with anyone and everyone you want. Plus, the new people you meet will have no prior knowledge or expectations of you; it’s a totally clean slate.

You’ll be introduced to new and exciting ways to have fun

You likely have a social pattern with your old circle of friends back home: Friday dinners in a certain suburb, ladies drinks at your favorite wine bar, weekend trips to the markets, etc. Sure, these cozy routines can be enjoyable and nostalgic, but are they really stretching and exciting you?

Your friends in a new city will introduce you to diverse local customs, adventures off the beaten path and fresh perspectives on how to have fun.

Instead of your regular pizza and movie night, you could go warehouse party, learn ballroom dancing or cook gnocchi with an Italian Nonna.

You’ll feel an overwhelming sense of freedom

You need to leave your hometown to realize how big the world is and how many different ways of life are out there. People have probably told you, “The world is your oyster.”

Well, it really is. Once you open your mind to the possibilities of moving and traveling, you can go wherever you want. Move like the wind.

Welcome change with open arms and live in whatever country, city, town or neighborhood that suits your rhythm and desires.

You’ll develop the social ease to walk into a party on your own and not even bat an eyelid

With the exception of the highly extroverted people among us, most people feel a certain sense of dread when they’re invited to attend a social occasion solo.

You worry you won’t know anyone and that you’ll feel uncomfortable, stuck talking to some weirdo. You’ll end up getting way too drunk to compensate for all of the awkwardness.

Well, fear not. When you move to a new city, you end up going to so many parties alone that it will stop phasing you at all and you’ll become a pro at social interactions.

Before you know it, you’ll be able to initiate small talk, get a laugh, ask the right questions and politely excuse yourself from conversations with ease. Social anxiety will be a thing of the past.

You’ll have the chance to reinvent yourself

The great thing about starting afresh is that it allows you to leave your tired, cranky self behind and present the world with a whole new you. It presents you with time to rid yourself of bad habits and say goodbye to friends or lovers who no longer serve you.

Explore the hidden parts of your character, figure out how your ideal self would respond to each scenario and become the person you desire to be.

You’ll be able to do something crazy with your appearance without having any shocked reactions

Ever wanted a tattoo? Piercing? Drastic hair cut? When you move to a city where you don’t know a soul, you have the chance to make a new impression on each person you meet.

If you’ve always wanted to do something ballsy with your appearance, now’s the time. Change your look and create the style you want, without any disapproving glares from your parents.

You’ll be empowered to realize you only need to rely on yourself

During a solo relocation, you’re left to sort things out for yourself, like find an apartment, get a job and negotiate your way around. You’ll be thrown into independence and forced to make it work; you’ll become a more resourceful, liberated person because of it.

Once you jump in and face your fears, you’ll realize everything is possible with a bit of hard work. After conquering a new city, you’ll feel a sense of empowerment to tackle everything else in life you’ve been too afraid to try.

You’ll feel your comfort zone widen drastically

We get it; your comfort zone is, well, comfortable, but when you move cities, things will be different.

You’ll have to re-learn your way around, figure out the public transit system and find a place to get a decent coffee. But, believe me when I say that even though things can be overwhelming in the beginning, you will acclimatize. Guaranteed.

Suddenly, what was once scary and unusual is now easy and stress-free, meaning more of the world is now within your comfort zone — win!

You’ll learn to enjoy your own company

If you’re someone who generally surrounds him or herself with friends and family, you may be surprised to learn that spending time alone can actually be pretty enjoyable.

“Alone” does not necessarily mean “lonely” and with your own company, you can do exactly what you want, on your own timeline and budget. A solo move can be an important period of introspection that may allow you to reconnect with your individual thoughts, dreams and desires.

You’ll realize you have the ability to conquer your fears

Making a move to a new city challenges your fears and anxieties and gives life to that little voice inside your head that says, “What if I get lost? What if I get into trouble? What if I don’t make any friends?” Being afraid of the unknown is perfectly normal, but we shouldn’t let fear control our lives.

If you start to surrender to your fear of change, you’ll never push through the wall and discover that daring, courageous side of yourself. You must feed your adventurous spirit to survive.

You’ll find absence makes the heart grow fonder

Many people feel the impetus to move cities after some sort of negative experience (like losing a job or an awful breakup) to create a fresh start.

As clichéd as it is, absence really does make the heart grow fonder. No doubt, after a few months away, you’ll find yourself missing your friends and family back home.

Not only will this help you to appreciate your loved ones more, but you may also feel much more secure and content to settle down somewhere after a prolonged trip away to experience what the world has to offer.

You’ll grow and develop as a person

Perhaps one of the best takeaways from moving cities is the self-discovery you’ll have. The more you travel and live abroad, the more your priorities will shift and you won’t be able to help but learn about yourself along the way.

The choice to go out on a limb and take responsibility for your own life is an incredibly powerful experience. Taking your destiny into your own hands allows you to rediscover your dreams, desires and to shape the path in front of you. Learn a different culture today, re invent your lifestyle evolving around creativity and essence

Get involved in an adventure in one of Africa’s largest wild-life cities. Connect and enjoy an amazing offer from Timbu.com, when you Visit SouthAfrica today.

#visitsouthafrica

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

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Through His Eyes - Part 13 [Final]

Summary: Losing your sight after your accident was traumatic, and Jaebum’s guilt of knowing it should have been him instead creates an intricate bond between you both, as you overcome adversity and try to find your way in life again.

Genre: angst / romance

Characters: Im Jaebum x female reader

A/N: This story is emotional and raw compared to some of the content on my blog. It is in no way an attempt to glamourise or undervalue the lives of those who suffer from something similar. This story is purely fictional.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Jaebum was unable to relax.

Over the last year of your relationship with him, he believed he had mellowed out considerably. You had found yourself when you were apart and only continued to flourish at his side. If anything, you called the shots more than he did.

Which was rather refreshing.

Sometimes he didn’t agree with some of the choices you made, and since both of you were stubborn, it had led to a lot of arguments. Only to end up back in each other’s arms, apologising, compromising, reconnecting.

Jaebum had been adamant about refuting one thing you wished to do, however.

“Come on, like it’ll happen again,” you whined, and he groaned loudly, reaching down to fill Nora’s food bowl and then turning to the breakfast dishes pointedly.

Your arms slipped around his waist soon after, and he paused in scrubbing the plate, your lips finding his bare skin easily. After a series of kisses that led up to his ear, you sighed into him, Jaebum not needing to turn to see the pout now upon your lips. “Just one time, please?”

“I’m not relenting on this,” he announced and for three months, he had successfully stuck to this vow. He couldn’t fathom having you in the same situation as you had been that day. Even if you both agreed that your accident had to happen for you to be this in love with one another, Jaebum still wanted your eyes to see the world that he did. He knew in some sense, you did. Your artwork had been recognised and now you were being offered the opportunity of holding an exhibition. You spent just as many hours working as he did now, sometimes your schedule was fuller than his was. Your paintings and sculpts littered his apartment as much as your own, taking up as much residence as you did in his home.

Not that he minded, he loved whenever you stayed over with him.

But he had to admit your world had grown considerably larger and you weren’t struggling to keep up with it. And that was one of the reasons why Jaebum had eventually been overruled with his protective stance. There were only so many excuses he could use that you couldn’t refute. With the growth of your business-like mind, your tact and articulation exceeded his, presenting him with even a list of reasons why he shouldn’t hold you back from what you wanted.

With the last line of, ‘if anything were to happen, I know you’d be right there’ as a reminder, he had caved, allowing you this one visit.

Jaebum knew that if this went well, you would request more opportunities and that was what accompanied his nerves as he got his makeup done, the realisation that you were dynamic, able to achieve anything you wanted, regardless of how much he tried to ground you.

Once you had taken flight, there was no stopping you.

“It’s going to be fine,” Jackson assured from the seat beside him and Jaebum half-smiled, still unable to accept those words. He had chanted them since waking up this morning, and still, they held no true belief in his mind. He knew he needed it to be fine, a perfect execution with your safety paramount. Sure, onsite accidents had decreased since new regulations came into place after your loss of sight. His company held stringent checks on all places their artists performed now, and Jaebum had been relieved that the concert hall passed all safety checks the day before.

His nerves didn’t dispel, no matter how many reassuring hugs Mark gave him, or firm squeezes of his shoulder that came from Jinyoung. And when you stepped into the bustling environment with the help of his manager, Jaebum’s movement faltered, his eyes holding onto your approach and checking everything that surrounded you as fast as his brain could process.

Why had he agreed to this?

“Noona!” Yugyeom cried as he leapt off the stage towards you, and you grinned, hugging everyone who came your way before slipping into Jaebum’s arms.

You tensed only for a moment, your head snapping up to his, shooting him a reproachful look. “Are you seriously this worried about me?”

“He’s been driving us insane all morning with how anxious he is,” BamBam announced, and Jaebum glared in his younger friend’s direction.

Youngjae chuckled. “I’m convinced you are the most important person in his world after today.”

“Is that right?” you murmured, unable to hide your elation. Jaebum flushed with colour, which you managed to pick up on, allowing him the chance to bury into you. As everyone else moved off, back to their positions in the rehearsal, you gently rubbed circles on his back, soothing his wired body.

Jaebum was exhausted, and he had not even performed yet.

“Relax for me, hm?”

“Easy for you to say,” he retorted, stepping back just enough to look down at you. Now that you were here, Jaebum was conflicted. He felt your effect relaxing some of his physical reaction but his mind was still concerned for your protection.

“If you’re not relaxed then how can I enjoy your performance? You forget how easily I can hear when you’re out of tune or offbeat now. I’ll only be disappointed in myself if I’m the cause to all your fans having a sub-par performance from you.”

He gaped at you. “Y/N, are you playing the guilt trip on me now?”

“No, of course not,” you responded sweetly, a giggle soon escaping you. You patted his arm and then ushered him off. “I’ll be right here, listening on and expecting a good rehearsal from you.”

With a final grumble and farewell, Jaebum headed back up onto the stage, looking out to where you had taken a seat with some of the other staff. You were already animatedly conversing something with his stylist and Jaebum smiled, it was just like you to find a place in any setting these days.

Rehearsals continued for the majority of the afternoon and by the time the last song ended, Jaebum was in a different element. He was no longer fretting about your appearance on set; instead, it had propelled him to put on a better show. The reactions you gave were genuine. He watched all your emotions that you openly showed for each of their songs, laughing with the playful moments in the segments and then rendered speechless with the powerful way he and the six other members performed. Even if it was a dry rehearsal, you were impressed and Jaebum was feeling accomplished because of it.

He knew that taking you on tour now would be something he would no longer fear. Even if something were to occur, you could both face it together.

It was how you had come thus far as a couple, after all.

He didn’t allow himself to focus too much on you when the show actually began. Sure, he would look towards your seat next to where the members’ family sat now and then, grinning when he noticed how bright you looked and the way you fondly held onto his mother’s hand throughout. Jaebum focused on putting his all into his performances, not just for you, or the fans, but for himself as well.

He hadn’t felt this at home on stage since your accident. It was as if having you present could allow him to finally reach for his passion and share it around the arena all night long.

He had been exhausted earlier in the day, but after stepping off stage, he was full of energy.

It was you who was wiped out from the experience.

“I didn’t expect it to take that much out of me,” you admitted as you departed ways from the small gathering after the concert, leaning into his side as he slipped into the driver’s seat of his car. Jaebum glanced at you, leaning in to kiss your head softly. You sighed, your hand moving over his waist and holding him tightly. “It was a success.”

“You told me not to worry,” he reminded you and you sighed, not lifting your head up to face him.

“I’m glad you stopped and allowed me to in your stead.”

He grinned; he had noticed now and then you would slowly look around during the rehearsal, jumping when someone would start banging on something in the stage setup. It would be just like you to take on the universe and ensure him to leave it all to you. He nudged you lightly, starting up the ignition. “Next time, don’t try to take on so much.”

“I’m exhausted mostly because of how many emotions I faced due to your music, not because of that,” you stated, pulling away from your position against him, avoiding the vibration of his chuckles.

Yet you held his hand all the way to your home.

When the car came to stop in the parking lot, neither of you moved to get out of the car immediately, savouring your time together. Jaebum knew your mother would want to have you home tonight. Her concern over you would not always be at ease, even if you were proving to be a capable young woman despite your life changing almost two years ago. It was a mother’s right to worry for her child and in your case, she always would. Allowing you to come out to the concert had been a big thing for her, especially doing so without chaperoning. It was up to him to deliver you back tonight, safe and sound.

That much he would do.

He just didn’t want to say goodbye just yet.

And neither did you.

“What if I went up there, said hello and then came back?”

Jaebum chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been with you for most of the day; let your mother have your final hours before bed.”

“If I make an hour, I’m so tired.”

“See, so it’s better you just go home and unwind with her before sleeping. I can come around for breakfast tomorrow,” Jaebum suggested and you let out a small huff of air. He knew that you had conceded, even if you weren’t openly happy about it.

“My bed has space for you,” you attempted and Jaebum leaned over to draw you into his arms, uncaring of the gearbox between you both. “Come stay with me. Mum won’t mind.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

Staring at you, he brushed the hair away from your face tenderly. He couldn’t wait for the time when you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms every day. You stayed over at his whenever he was home, sometimes going an entire week before you trudged back home, albeit with a delighted greeting for your mother when you saw her. You really did love the woman, even if you protested leaving his company every time. It was why he made a point of taking you home even when he didn’t want to let you go.

Jaebum knew your mother had been hinting at putting a ring on your finger lately, her not so subtle answer to allowing him what he craved. Only when you were truly bound to him would she allow you to leave the nest he had first found you within. Back then, your wings were unable to fly to his house, and she had nurtured you more than he could have.

It meant a lot to him that your mother was allowing him the ability to be that strength at your side now.

That’s why he made sure you spent as much time alone with your mother presently. When you moved in with him, he might not be as willing to let you stay away from him.

“You know you have a really bad habit of overthinking and not giving me an answer, Im Jaebum.”

He snapped out of his thoughts with a smile, which you reached out to touch with your thumb. He pursed his lips into you, kissing your hand softly and then undid your seatbelt. “Come on, let me take you home.”

You obliged despite his lack of an answer, swinging your linked arms softly with every step you made together. Soon you were standing outside your apartment and turned to face him, attempting to shoot him a luring smile. He laughed. “I’m not coming in.”

“No? Your loss then,” you tempted and he stepped up to you, hugging you warmly and kissing your forehead. “I’m going to go to bed and dream of someone other than you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” you informed, though you were smiling too much for it to be effective. “Since you don’t want to be at my side tonight, I’ll choose someone else.”

“Suit yourself, Nora will be all too happy to take your spot anyway.”

You huffed again and he laughed. For a moment you were both jovial and then his smile faded, his eyes searching yours.

Even without sight, they were beautiful. The colours, the depth, he had fallen in love with them. In the hallway lighting, he spotted your faint scarring, the lines he had traced upon your face many times over. He had come to love them too.

All of you.

Yet the question remained on the tip of his tongue and he rocked back on his heels, unsure if he should ask it. You placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing it gently. “What is it?”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss what?”

“Seeing the world,” he admitted, watching as you blinked slowly.

And then you shook your head. “No. I don’t any more.”

“Really? Wouldn’t you love to see what’s around you? View the things you haven’t in so long? What about the people you hold dearly in your life now, do you crave to see them at least once more?” Jaebum wondered, holding you back in his arms again. He was confused; he had thought there would be a small part of you that would long for vision of some sort. Some times, on your better days, you could make out vague shapes for moments at a time. That was the extent of your recovery. The doctors had ruled you wouldn’t perform some sort of miracle and gain your sight back.

Smiling again, your hand still on his face shifted, feeling along the strength of his jaw and up his cheekbone. Your fingers lightly dusted over his eyelids that, with instinct, he shut upon your touch there. When you stopped, he reopened his eyes, gazing at you and anticipating your answer.

“I already see enough of the world through you. Why would I crave anything more?”

Leaning into kiss you, Jaebum allowed the tears to fall from his eyes. He never knew what to expect with you sometimes.

But he would take care of his sight as best as he could.

Since he knew you would look through his eyes forever.

The End.

_________________

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

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cloudybookash-blog · 5 years

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for the ask-Andromeda, Aquarius, Aries, Corvus, Draco, Gemini, Hydra, Libra, Lyra, Pyxis, Taurus, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, Canis Minor, Crux, Indus, Lupus, Puppis, and lastly Virgo-i copied u bc im lazy

Andromeda - Describe your main characters

Z: original a banished princess trope, very VERY fucken angry, too tall for her own good, educated and strong, a little insecure about her place in the world, just wants peace.

J: this bitch old af, old as time in fact, loves *checks notes* Aloe Vera? Created grey morality.

H.H: A lover not a fighter, dummy thicc, forgetful, thinks he knows more than he does.

M.E: responsible, guilt-ridden, takes on more than she should be able to handle but handles it well anyway, REALLY FUCKEN INTELLIGENT.

M: the youngest but the wisest, keeps to herself, is possible just as intelligent as M.E, humble, wants nothing more than to help others.

Aquarius - Who’s your least favorite character to write?

Any of them, y’know, IF I WROTE.

Aries - Share a line that you’re proud of!

Make him run circles and poke himwith a stick. Tire him and find his weak point. Then devour him.

Bro I had to open and read through three different docs just to find this bullshit… I ain’t looking no more. That’s as good as it gets.

Corvus - Who or what is the villain of the story?

Anyone not on my heroes side is The Enemy™.

Draco - Who’s your favorite character to write?

Any of them, y’know, IF I FUCKING WROTE.

Gemini - What inspired you to write this project?

I was asked to join a voluntary, student run writing class in Yr 10. I think I had to write something to ‘introduce’ my style or whatever. It was REALLY shit in the beginning (I wrote in first person, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT???) I don’t know where the idea originally came from because before that I read a lot of horror and contemporary/mystery so pulling a High Fantasy idea out my ass for the first time to intro myself to a bunch of Yr 11/12′s was whack but I did it. Since then it’s been evolving and morphing into other story ideas I’ve had.

Hydra - Tell us why you love your project.

When I was younger I could see the world a lot clearer, it was so easy to get lost in and even now when I write it, I can just fall forever amongst my creation. That and I created it when I was going through IT, I used the world as my punching bag to get my feelings out and seeing as it got me through so much, I just want to do best by it, is that too sentimental?

Libra - Which relationship dynamic do you enjoy writing the most?

GOD characters do not interact.

lol no, I like writing friendship dynamics? I guess. I enjoy characters that have a history that won’t be explained that have inside jokes , the ‘know what the other is thinking’ type relationships are my favourite… I’m bad at writing though so don’t expect too much.

Lyra - Give us a few songs that fit your project!

Gone Away - SafetySuit

Get Free - What So Not Remix, Major Lazer, Amber Coffman

Can I Exist? - Mission

Understand Me - Abel Miller

Young Forever - Jay-Z, Mr. Hudson

Numb - Linkin Park (probably, haven’t listened to it in a while for my own mental health.

Okay, not a few, and not all of these align with my project but they’re some of the inspiring songs/vibe to write songs.

Pyxis - Are there any major themes or messages you’re writing to show?

I started writing this when I was like 12 so, originally I wanted to portray to ‘The Adults™’ that kids go through the fucking ringer and we’re not just ‘over-reacting, being teenagers etc…’ I think I’ll try to keep that in later drafts, but maybe focus it more on validating teens and kids going/working through trauma.

War is a massive focus, child soldiers as well, pain (obviously) and how there are so many ways to deal with them and not all of them are good/healthy for you.

I’m fucking AMBITIOUS for a bitch who can barely write one (1) sentence nowadays.

Taurus - Tell us why you hate your project.

Despite knowing so much more now about the art of writing and the story’s direction as a whole, in comparison to when I first starting writing this story, I now lack the motivation and/or inspiration to write.

Ursa Major - What scene are you looking forward to writing?

I look forward to writing anything at this point… Pray for my creativity, pls.

Ursa Minor - What’s the setting?

Tall, old jungle that whispers if know how to listen. Mountain ranges that shake violently in their effort to move. Wild grasslands, and flowery clearings that’ll lull you into sleep if you’d only just rest your head for a little while, just a few seconds they swear - you look like you could use a rest, yes.

A world like ours unless you see it, hear it, breath it, or feel it. Smells the same though.

Canis Minor - Share an excerpt of old writing and new writing to see how far you’ve come!

fuckingfuckertyfuck…

Okay… So I went on a depressing ass walk down memory lane and I can tell you with complete confidence that my writing has RECEEDED. The super old stuff is problematic so I’m not sharing it, the plain old stuff is me working through repressed trauma so will also not be sharing it, and despite not being problematic the ‘new’ (ish) stuff is incomprehensible… Okay, that sucked, NEXT!

Crux - Villains or Heroes?

Heroes. I’m just basic, man.

Indus - Are there any characters or stories you miss writing? Tell us about them!

All of them, y’know, BECAUSE I NO LONGER FUCKING WRITE. I remember LOSING DAYS just to write. Anything, everything, jumping around from world to world - finding the warmest patch of sun and following it for 8hrs straight without breaks. Being able to come up with story ideas every other day. I remember seeing stories everywhere, and they sucked, oh hell they were fucking terrible - rip offs of movies and tv shows I’d watched. Nothing ever looked as good and clear on paper as they did in my head - no doubt I was horrible, but I had it at least. I just miss seeing it all so clearly, man.

Lupus - Have you abandoned other WIPs? Tell us about some and why you abandoned them?

A wise woman once said, “what HAVENT i abandoned holy fuck.” and honestly, same.

Puppis - Give us a piece of advice! (about anything)

Just breathe. Take big deep gulps, and hold it for a few seconds, then release. Relax your shoulders. Go pee for god’s sake, I don’t think holding it this long is good for you. Go at your own pace, don’t speed up or slow down for others. Always try to see things from the point of view of others, it’s interesting. And lastly, look after yourself.

Virgo - Describe your favorite tropes.

The duo that dies together, not because they both get caught but because one does and the other refuses to let them die alone. Characters that are super big and buff that struggle with their strength and in the end refuse to allow themselves to succumb to the wishes of others and live out their lives in soft handed kindness. That squad of characters that act like a pack of hooligans. Smart characters that rely on their intelligence over others to see them through problems.

#Constellations #ask game #writing #writers #books #wip #admittedly I was listening to music while answering this and I think it got me depressed mid way through #oops #really liked these questions tho

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sparklyjojos · 5 years

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--[Disco Wednesdayyy 25/?] Mercury retrograde, the perfection of 九十九十九, and twisting both a house and the plot to their limits [tw: body horror]--

Last time, Disco had a talk with JJ Styron about how fucked up the future world is, and we ended with Disco deciding to search for Mercury C’s shop in Chofu.

Still at JJ’s, Disco asks the receptionist about the shop that delivered the sweets. The pamphlet she gives him claims that the shop has just celebrated its third anniversary, which would mean it was only opened in 2016. Huh? Confused Disco swings back to JJ Styron’s office and asks him about Mercury C, but JJ swears he doesn’t even know that name. But Mercury C took part in the Pine House, shouldn’t his name be publicly known? Disco uses JJ’s computer to pull up an article about the Pine House case, which lists the following people as missing [putting the entire list here solely because it’s a nice reference. And yes, they put Nils first ;w;]:

Detectives: Mikami Nils Disco Wednesdayyy Judy Dollhouse Choukuuji Keraku Choukuuji Kiyuu Hakkyoku Sachiari Sabayama Nigouhan Kakiuchi Mama Jump Hidzuki Mame Gen Neko Neko Nyan Nyan Nyan Runbaba 12

Angel Bunnies: Fukushima Manabu Hongou Takeshi (great detective Hongou Takeshi Takeshi) Kato Jun'ichi (great detective Sakurazuki Tansetsu) Kimura Daisuke Kawai Kazuhiro Hayashi Hiroyuki Kamimura Tetsurou Tanaka Masatsugu Satou Kazuhiro Yoshida Yukino Hanada Sawako Kawabe Keisuke Miyazaki Natsue Hiroki Takako Mizorogi Fumie Kajiwara Ayako Nomura Rie Nonaka Mami Obata Aki

The article did list exactly 31 people, but no Mercury C. Runbaba 12 was listed instead, probably since his return to the past must have been also seen as a mysterious disappearance. Strange... Dezuumi should have remember that Mercury C was there, so why didn’t he?

[If you read the list of detectives carefully, you may notice that aside from Dezuumi and Mercury C, another important character isn’t mentioned, and it’s highly weird that Dezuumi especially wouldn’t remember him. Hmm...]

If the shop really was only created in the future, and the past seemingly changed in such a way that Mercury C’s actions may have as well not happened, then this would mean...

Mercury C came from the other side of Ragnarok.

The entire Pine House case as it happened was just a ‘fictional past’ to him, much like the current events with JJ Styron were a ‘fictional future’ for Disco.

If Mercury C came back to the future, and his influence into the past was completely erased, what results would it have? Was Disco going to disappear or lose his powers? While events like Mitamura’s death and the detectives gathering in the Pine House were set, Mercury C’s intervention changed so much -- would these changes disappear?

What if Mercury C never returned to the future and waited for Ragnarok? Would the fictional past simply disappear? But if the future outcomes were anchored in the past causes, what on earth would happen if those causes didn’t exist?

Why did Mercury C come to the past anyway? To lead Disco somewhere? Could he be secretly working with the foe and trying to figure out where Disco hid the kids? But no, future ‘Disco’ came back to the Pine House with a ‘Mercury C’ by his side, surely it’ll be alright...

Disco goes to Makuri-ya, which turns out to be located in a slightly different place than Mercury C told him. The staff has no idea who Mercury C is.

Confused, Disco wanders aimlessly through the streets. What is the truth here? What is the thing he’s sure is real, in the end? The children he’s going to save. He has to find a hiding place... maybe one that even Mercury C doesn’t know about. Something unexpected...

Disco arrives at his old apartment building, hangs out a little in the garden remembering better times, and tries to call his future self or anyone else to help him figure things out, but nobody comes.

Then he glances at a tree that he once carved his name in, notices the last two letters of ‘Disco’ are C and O, and suddenly remembers.

九十九十九 = COCOC

“That’s right”, the God of Detectives said during his explanation. “The perfection of the name ‘Tsukumo Juku’ will be realized.”

And earlier, “The culprit closed the ‘S’ shape back into an ‘O’, and Mitamura ‘wrote’ it again to ask for rescue.” This was his initial theory, before he redrew the supposed shape of the Stairway To Heaven from an ‘S’ to one more resembling ‘C’. The open shape of ‘C’, the closed shape of an ‘O’. Open, closed.

Natsukawa Cottage and the Pine House.

Natsukawa Cottage was turned into the Pine House by Mitamura. Then, Disco and the others turned the Pine House back into Natsukawa Cottage, at least in their own consciousness. After Ragnarok, once all the people who have this consciousness leave the vicinity of the building, Natsukawa Cottage will once more become just the Pine House. Open, closed, open, closed. C, O, C, O... But there is a fifth letter, one more C.

The Pine House is going to be opened once more.

[Lore note: this is incredibly similar to the near-far wordplay in Jorge Joestar. Once again we have two alternating states, and the protagonist using the pattern of the name 九十九十九 to realize that there’s one more switch between those states to come.]

Now that he thinks about it -- is the Pine House the perfect place he can hide the kids in? He remembers reading an article about Pineapple-chan, an alleged ghost of a child heard in the Pine House. Mitamura even wrote a book with a character called Yukidzuka Pineapple... was what Mitamura and his editors heard really a ghost, or just one of the hidden children? And if they could hear it, would this mean the kids were hidden in that compressed space-time between room 8 and 9, right next to where Mitamura was working on his books?

Led by a feeling, Disco jumps to the Pine House of the year 2019.

The future Pine House looks completely abandoned, as if nobody came here in years, though the damage they did during Disco’s explanations has been fixed. Even the holes in the wall are covered with new wallpaper.

Alright, he’s here, what next? He should already know what to do. If there were no detectives around to give him clues, then that should mean he already had all the information he needed and just had to put it together. What was the piece of information he overlooked? What didn’t come into play yet?

The 12 words from the Pine House.

отмачивание (‘soaking’; Maijo translates it as ‘peeling off something wet’) отмачивание (see above) Onsdag (Wednesday) Outrider Ovario (ovary) Onobwi (sixty) Olak-alik (repetition, back and forth) Oktubre (October) Oviana (when) Orquesta (orchestra) Oдоо (now) 廿六日 (26th day)

Aside from these cryptic words, what else can come into play? Disco remembers the Pineapple Home and the mirror world in its ceiling, then the Hanged Man tarot card. Should he try to change his perspective like Odin? He tries to hang down from the chandelier, but it doesn’t seem to be working. But wait, this is the future. If space-time is folded, then this world is already upside down. Maybe the first thing he has to do is to reverse gravity. To somehow fully convince his consciousness that up is down and down is up. But how on earth do you trick yourself into sincerely believing something? That’d be like playing rock-paper-scissors with yourself.

First, he has to trick his eyes. Disco activates the projection of the magic circle, so now the floor and the ceiling look the same, then takes care to remove everything that serves as a point of reference: the chandelier, the tables, the zodiac ornaments, the handrails. The fact that the hallway had two layers of carpeting comes in handy when he has to put one of them on the hallway’s ceiling, and he wonders if this -- and not just hiding blood -- was their true purpose all along.

Now to find a way to get to the ceiling. Disco remembers how in school they once made Moebius strips by taking a paper strip, twisting it and attaching the ends together.

The simplest way to get from standing on the floor to standing on the ceiling without losing the ground under your feet would be to twist the space of the Pine House into a Moebius strip and walk along the curve.

Disco runs through the hallway following this path, but soon realizes that this won’t be as easy as he expected.

Right in front of him, cutting between rooms 8 and 9 and protruding into the hallway, there is the white wall of the World’s End.

That’s the third damn wall Disco saw today. First was the transparent one in the bedroom, then the white one at World’s End, and then this one. Maybe a time wall would always be transparent in the forward-time flow, and white in reverse-time flow?

He tries to approach the wall from a different direction. Still there. On the second floor too. Like a white sheet stretching all the way up to the ceiling... perhaps continuing forever. Maybe 'behind’ this white wall was the compressed space in which his companions and the children were hiding? He tries to call them, but realizes that if the wall signalizes two time flows colliding, then there’s no way his voice would carry over. He tries jumping ‘behind’ the wall, but can’t.

Thinking about what to do, Disco enters room 9 and stares at the wallpaper-covered hole. During Kiyuu’s reasoning, they found Mitamura’s body there. The God of Detectives later claimed that Daibakusho had brought it back from the morgue... but was it really the case? Even if it was Daibakusho’s doing, what meaning did it have? Was it meant to show him that there was something more hidden inside the wall? Mitamura was still smiling, as if he died keeping some secret safe...

Without damaging the wallpaper, Disco jumps into the hole in the wall. No World’s End there, just cramped darkness. Hm. Okay, now to think about how to enter the world ‘behind’ the white wall.

While thinking, Disco warps space so that he’s floating gently in the air, curled in the weirdly comfortable darkness. Soon he starts feeling confused about where’s up and where’s down, so he stretches his arm to touch the wall. Nothing. He must have warped space so that the darkness stretched wider, or maybe it was himself that shrunk into this comfortable, womb-like darkness.

He’s slowly losing track of time. Without any point of reference, his inside time is getting uncoupled from the outside time. If people can’t go into another space-time because it clashes with their own, then maybe someone whose sense of space and time is nonexistent can get anywhere?

Disco feels as if he just got enlightened.

This quiet darkness, this ‘Black Box’, is a device made for the explicit purpose of getting rid of your sense of space-time so you can enter another space-time. It’s like a decompression chamber.

Disco focuses and jumps ‘behind’ the white wall.

Disco isn’t sure what he’s looking at.

It looks like a collage of many different worlds. He’s standing in the middle of a savannah, but to his right is a tall mountain, and to his left a beach with a diagonally titled sea. Multiple orbs hover in the air, each one containing a lush jungle.

Two cheetahs run up to him and introduce themselves in Japanese as Lightweight and Middleweight. “Are you alone?” they ask. “Where’s your companion? You know, your brother?... Huh? You really are alone? ...oh well. Hey, look, Ichirou and Jirou are coming this way.”

Indeed, two people are descending the mountain. The cheetahs run somewhere while Disco goes out to meet the two people. Just like he expected, Ichirou and Jirou are identical-looking Japanese teenagers.

The thing is, they don’t resemble Mitamura Saburou in the slightest.

But they look a whole damn lot like Daibakusho Curry.

After Ichirou and Jirou greet him like an old friend (how do they know him?), Disco asks awkwardly, “Sorry, do you have belly buttons?”

“Huh?” “What’s that?”

He shows them his own, and the boys seem concerned that Disco must have been stabbed in the stomach or something. If they don’t have those, then... are these two really Daibakusho’s lost brothers? And how on earth did they know his name? Did someone from the Pine House tell them? Were they in the Pine House during the case somehow?

After some thinking, Disco realizes what exactly happened [and boy, if it isn’t one of the wildest things to come out of Maijo’s books.]

When Daibakusho Curry / Sakai Tsutomu was still in the womb, he absorbed the bodies of his two brothers. However, the brothers continued to live inside his body as parasitic twins for close to 38 years. So in a way, they also took part in the Pine House case, and heard the explanations about consciousness and space-time.

And just like Kozue, simply by hearing the explanations they were able to learn how to warp space and jump in space-time.

When Daibakusho / the God of Detectives stabbed himself again and later almost died, his two brothers had no choice but to run away from his body by warping to a place they perceived as safe...

...into young Mitamura’s body.

That’s why young Mitamura was suddenly struck with a stomachache so strong it was mistaken for appendicitis. During his surgery, the brothers fell in danger of being cut out and dying, so they ran away again, leaving an empty cyst behind. Where did they run to this time? Somewhere close to Mitamura again...

...into his mother’s uterus while she was pregnant with him 37 years ago.

The two brothers must have learned how to change their own shape, as they managed to successfully grow into healthy fetuses and later be born along with Saburou as triplets, and were given names Ichirou and Jirou.

The two were raised by the Mitamura family until they were 14, when they suddenly disappeared. Maybe the difference in looks between them and Saburou was starting to become too obvious with puberty, or maybe they chose to leave to find their own freedom. Either way, they arrived here, into the world hidden inside the Pine House... right next to Mitamura Saburou’s own study.

As Disco looks around the patchwork world, he realizes that all the animals move in pairs. Giraffes, whales, even pandas. Pandas?

“Are Kon Kon and Den Den here too?” he asks.

“Yeah!” “Right there!” They show him two panda cubs frolicking in a bamboo forest.

“So it was you who took them?”

“We didn’t force them to go with us or anything.” “They just wanted to play.” “It’s fine if they have to go back now."

The culprits in the (animal) twin kidnapping case really were those two...

Apparently, in this Twin World every animal knows not to eat the others, and is able to make a world of their own to provide everything they wish for. Ichirou and Jirou are the only humans.

“Aren’t you lonely here?” Disco asks.

“Huh? But everyone is here.” “Same species or not, everyone’s a friend.”

“And you’re not sad at all?”

“Not really.” “We’re always happy.”

“Wouldn’t you like to go back?”

“It’s fine if we go back, it’s fine if we stay.” “Everywhere’s fine.” “The world before... it was alright, but it had so many unnecessary things.” “Happiness and sadness.” “Bitterness and amusement.” “Victories and problems.”

A giant world in the shape they could change as they wished. A giant world...

“Hey, would it be alright if I brought a whole lot of people here, so they can hide like you?” Disco asks.

“We're not hiding!” “We just kinda found this place.” “And made it bigger!” “And brought a lot of animals from zoos!” “And since we know how fun it is to play together as twins, we brought twins to play here!”

Weren’t hiding? But they disappeared in 1982 (which on this side would be 2030)... “You know you’ve been here for years?”

“Yeah.” “We have.”

“And you really didn’t make this world, just found it?”

“Yeah.” “It’s been here before that.” “There was no one else here, so we thought maybe we could play for a while, just the two of us.”

So this world was created somewhere after the year 2030. By whom? Maybe Disco will learn to manipulate time to this degree one day, who knows.

To think these kids really managed to jump behind the white wall... then again, if they could pull off time travel as embryos, they had to have giant potential. Maybe spending time in the womb was like the ‘Black Box’ and allowed them to learn how to change their internal space-time.

Anyway, Disco finally found the place to hide kids. He shares this idea with Ichirou and Jirou.

“Ah, but Mr. Disco, people from the future can’t go inside this world.” “Same with animals.” “We tried to get two fawns from 2015, but they couldn’t get inside.” “Those giant bandicoot rats from 2007 couldn’t either.”

Right, time was running in the different direction than outside. The Twin World has a forward-time flow, just like pre-Ragnarok world outside. If so... then maybe if the Twin World existed pre-Ragnarok, it’d have reverse-time flow, just like the post-Ragnarok world outside. He could hide kids from the future in the past Pine House.

[This is illustrated by a diagram spanning two pages. Since it’d be unreadable on tumblr, here’s a link to a bigger size.]

“Who knows about this world?” He asks.

“Only we two.” “And Mr. Disco!” “Oh, right.”

“Huh? You didn’t say anything to Saburou or Tsutomu?”

“Nooo.” “What if they did something violent? They’re into weird stuff.” “Like gore or that whole SM thing, gross!” “Or stabbing their own eye out!” “Gross!”

[LOCAL TEENS DISAPPEAR FOR OVER 20 YEARS, NEVER CONTACT THEIR GRIEVING BROTHER BECAUSE THEY’RE KINKSHAMING HIM AHGFKASJHDGKJ]

“What about the animals? Do they leave and come back often?” If they speak Japanese, they could spill the beans to someone.

“No, no.” “Once they’re here, they don’t want to come back.” “We only take them from zoos, where they’re kept in tiny dirty cages.” “Here’s much nicer.”

“But their parents are very sad that their children disappeared.”

“Yeah, but kids have to eventually separate from their parents. “Human kids too.” “It’s a little lonely, but you get used to it.”

“Anyway, please don’t come out of this room anymore, alright? Some bad people could discover where it is.”

“But everyone can come here!” “It’s a free place!” “How are these people bad? What kinda bad things they do?”

“Things like bullying children... or ending the world.”

“That’s horrible.” “Yeah, that scary.” “We won’t come out anymore.”

“You sure? I’ll need you to stay here for at least 13 years.”

“It’s fine!” “For us, it’s like 13 days.”

The time worked differently in this world. If it was 2019 on this side of Ragnarok, then it was 1993 on the other, so the two should be 25. But they still looked 14, since they could make time flow as fast as they wanted.

Disco says goodbye to them for know and goes to Kon Kon and Den Den’s place next. He tries to persuade them to come back to Run Run, but the cubs say she should come to this peaceful world instead, and they give Disco a piece of bamboo to pass to Run Run. Disco briefly considers grabbing the two by force, but they’re a delicate endangered species and all, so he just mutters “fair enough” in English, and is surprised when the cubs still understand that. Apparently, the animals here can speak every language.

Disco flies up trying to assess how big the Twin World is, but it seems to go on forever. A giant world, constantly changing before his eyes... Thinking about the speaking animals, Disco remembers the biblical Tower of Babel. When people tried to reach God, he struck the tower in anger and confused the languages. But in this world, there was no language barrier, no war, no horrible child abuse, and everything was just fine.

After one last look, Disco warps back to the Black Box, fixes the Pine House so that no one will notice he was even there, and finally returns to 15th July 2006.

#sparkly reads disco #maijo and jdc stuff #long post #possibly the most ridiculous plot twist in maijo is here and I'm dying #(it's great)

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seraphinnas-blog · 6 years

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⟡⌜⇴ ABIGAIL SPENCER ⌠ 36 & she/her ⌡: have you seen SERAPHINA SELWYN ? SHE is an ESTATE MANAGER & WIZARD ART TEACHER who’s apparently also A DEATH EATER. When you see her walking around, be careful, because while she can be DUTIFUL and ARDENT, I heard she can also be pretty SADISTIC and DOGMATIC. ( cami & 18 & she/her & gmt )

↠ boi, get ready for a far too long wild ride as i try to do my best to attempt to write an evil character

THE SELWYNS:

↠ inter lutum duro mundus. i will stay clean in the mud. this sentence will greet you in every gate into a property of the old and noble selwyn family, and you can find it in the marble stones around the houses, in the ancient wooden framing of portraits, in the archives, filled with letters to loved ones with the gentle reminder that the selwyns will rise above any perils. it’s a message of comfort that even seraphina sometimes writes in such tempestuous times to her relatives.

↠ the selwyns are the symbol of old money. and i do mean old. their records, with some alterations to the spelling of the family name, go back centuries, but some books claim them to be amongst those taught personally by hogwarts’ founders. the selwyns are very meticulous about history, especially THEIR history, what they can hide in it, what they can boast about, and how to keep careful records of everything. their archives are precious for wizard historians, and can often be found as references in books.

↠ the selwyns are also, or even, above all, symbols of tradition. while they’ve always kept building newer better houses, they’ve protected their oldest estates, and use some of them as museums of wizard history, just like we’d visit old castles and palaces. they turn good profit from all their estates, in which many find work, especially but not limited to house elves, and all sorts of countryside things you can imagine create money? they do it. farming, honey, wood, cattle, wine, cheese, horse and the raising of other more magical animals. the selwyns have quite the empire in the united kingdom and even some spots abroad.

↠ one specific tradition that has kept the family very relevant has always been the annual hunting celebration. started in the 1740s, it has evolved and changed but kept some traditional aspects: only purebloods are invited; it happens at the selwyn country house in north yorkshire (the first major estate of the family to survive till today); it’s a must-go october event, pouring rain or not, with large feasts set outside and inside; children run around with pretend wands and sticks, playing hunter; those old enough ( read: about seven or so and allowed by the parents ) leave into the woods with bloodhounds and return with all sorts of death. deer; gnomes; bore; doxys; nifflers; ducks; red caps; even misbehaved house elves; killed, skinned, and (most of them anyway) cooked in the same event.

↠ the selwyns are just so deeply embedded in wizard traditions and wizard history, even with very very very few of them ever having ministry related jobs. in fact, seraphina can only trace a few more distant cousins working at the ministry in the last 50 years, and there’s only ever been one selwyn minister in all british history. that is because their estates, their museums, the art pieces they collect in them and all the products of their country side holdings already provide all the power and money they could need. their parties, be it for hunting or not, are monumental events. everything they hold is a powerful part of the tourism industry in magical britain and everything they produce fills half the pantries of purebloods in the nation. the selwyns are simply a fundamental part of wizarding britain.

CHILDHOOD

↠ it was this simple: alma and octavio selwyn couldn’t have any biological children. after years of trying, it became obvious that there was some sort of problem. for a few generations, the once rather fruitful selwyns were having smaller and smaller batches of children, and many less important branches of the family were dying out - alma always blamed it on the classical pureblood inbreeding from both families.

↠ this is the part where i make shit up about wizard society and we run with it. adoption is very real in pureblood society, some cases fully hidden, others an open thing, but no one really properly talks about it. especially not when it comes to such an important and well respected family. it wouldn’t be the first time the selwyns or other wizards would have adopted a baby. it’s just tabu because in most cases, it’s not possible to fully confirm if the child is, in fact, a pureblood. the selwyns were assured by the orphanage for magical children in vancouver that the little girl, less than three years old, was a pureblood. their meticulous research lead to the same vague conclusion, but it was pointless, really. after all, the couple was in love with her big brown eyes from the moment they saw her in a photograph. “i just knew you were my daughter,” explained her mother once, in the rare occasion that the whole ordeal was mentioned. one change of name ( hannah, she’s been told, but it’s forbidden now ) and all of a sudden she was the long awaited HEIR to the fast aging couple. they were head over heels with the little girl and soon, despite the hints of controversy, so was most of pureblood society.

↠ there are questions in her mind that she’s yet to have the courage to ask. especially those concerning the legitimacy of her blood status. she’s the heiress of the selwyn throne, there is no space for doubts and self reflection in that. seraphina was always told to not show weakness, for others could taste it in the air and come in with wands raised. what could be weaker than doubting yourself?

↠ despite the occasional transgressions ( she remembers the way her mother slapped a cousin who dared to question her princess’ very pure blood, how the relatives from zurich were not allowed to visit anymore ) seraphina grew up rather sheltered and happy. in a family that highly values education and tradition, she was tutored by many, including some of her father’s old tutors, learning many languages, types of art, magical theory and, above all, the legacy of the selwyns and how to manage it in the future. she also learned all the fine skills of a high ranking lady, being sent for short periods of time to those small wizard finishing schools abroad - that all changed when her hogwarts letter came.

↠ suddenly, she wasn’t sharing her environment with other rich, powerful and mostly pure blooded little heirs. but she would stay clean in the mud. sorted into ravenclaw, it was an easy fit ( curious, competitive, a hub of knowledge, in everything for herself no matter how many backs she must stab ) but even her generation was too liberal. too many mudbloods complaining about being beaten by other students. too many blood traitors around her. seraphina was never the overly violent type ( despite having throw some jinxes at some people occasionally, and some other minor actions ), but her real accomplishments were the ↠ she started many groups and clubs while at hogwarts, in defense of a return to tradition, to the good old society in which muggle borns were ostracised, werewolves done away with eugenics, all the things that even in her time could be considered somewhat radical. and she got some following. the headmaster kept shutting them down, calling the groups hateful, and she’d calmly reply that they were simply trying to spread out some important philosophies. that didn’t stop complaints from flooding in, especially from concerned parents.

↠ seraphina, or sera for the close ones, didn’t need high grades. she had been groomed to run the many family businesses, starting with small sections when she was still at hogwarts and in the future to inherit it all, but she CRAVED learning, especially the sort of learning that could feed her views. she was very interested in history of magic and magical theory, and after some time caring for the family business, she returned to hogwarts. not quite full term ( damn binns taking up the position of teacher of history of magic ) but as the professor for one extracurricular - art. or rather, wizard art.

THE GREAT WIZARD WAR

↠ in the same year seraphina graduated from hogwarts, she was approached by voldemort. her views were so interesting and strong, and her family lineage so powerful that voldemort took it upon branding her with the dark mark and keeping her in his close circle almost immediately. her techniques are curiously vicious, and she truly approaches missions like fox hunting, loves letting some targets lose in forests and running after them. brings in dogs and other animals to scare them off. is very methodical and very cruel without a care - after all, they are an infestation. they are stealing places that belong to the truly worthy of magic, the purebloods such as her. they are ruining what’s meant to be a sacred and secret gift and destroying the great society wizards once were. how can she not be cruel to such sub-human kinds?

↠ that’s why she does what she does. she believes, with her whole heart, that she’s restoring the world by ridding it of all those impurities. and she’s so hellbent in her beliefs, so dogmatic.

↠ the selwyns have been associated with dark wizards before, but rarely ones this important, as they always feared they’d try to overrule them, overthrow the mighty family. their houses, however, were always safe harbours for dark wizards and those running from aurors - it is rumoured that grindelwald hid with the selwyns for quite some time as he organised his army. but seraphina always wanted to do something more, to leave her particular mark in the long family trees, especially given the little voice in her head that told her she did not belong there.

↠ not being a selwyn makes her want to be the most remarkable selwyn that has ever been.

↠ while she definitely had her hands full with high society living, being one of the managers of her family empire. and a devoted death eater, seraphina craved more. as such, at the age of 22, she earned the position of wizard art professor.

↠ she’s been teaching ever since ( despite the suspicions everyone, including staff, has about her off duty activities ), taking some time off and returning again, never fully committed as her responsibilities to the selwyn name are far more relevant. her knowledge of wizard art history, given how many pieces her family owns, secured the position for her, and she does genuinely enjoy having something to call her own, not just a family thing. it’s HER classroom. she also investigates the blood status of each of her students and after strings of terrible marks and rudeness to muggleborns, tells them she believes they’d find a better fit at the muggle art classes. her agenda is VERY much pushed in the classroom.

↠ while she does have a passion and skill with art, let’s be real. she mostly just teaches wizard art history and interpretation. field trips to one of the selwyn owned museums? every term. field trips to unseen works of art stored in off-public sites at a selwyn property? every term.

↠ her love for history is a bit twisted because while she does adore archives and all that stuff, she mostly just picks and chooses what goes along with her rhetoric. history revisionist? very much. go buy ‘the witch hunt for grindelwald’, ‘squibs and the charges of witchcraft against their own families - the horror of the spanish inquisition (1560-1710)’ and ‘tales from the resistance: interviews to death eaters active in the 1970s’. more books to come, definitely. all just as controversial.

↠ her second biggest passion, after history, is hunting. she was brought on the annual hunts ever since she was just a little kid and she grew a love for the rush of searching for something she wanted and getting it, even with blood on her gloves.

↠ the war has been dragging on, with some low points for the death eaters but more, especially lately, for their enemies. she’s been an unshakable supporter of the cause ever since the second she joined, having spilled much blood for it, her own and others’. does part of her wish it could finally end? ye. she wants to get on with her life properly without having to rush to missions all the time. but it can’t end until their goals are fulfilled and merlin, they’re still so far from it. so, dutiful as she is, seraphina doesn’t whisper a word, but she’s tired. they all are. if only she could lower her guard once more, just for one day, for one peaceful moment in which the world is right and all she and her partners have suffered and even died for can be real.

↠ she just wants some goddamned peace and quiet but also, she’d miss human hunting. because remember, awful person.

↠ has killed muggles who have somehow wandered into or near selwyn grounds despite all the spells around it. has thrown them to the dogs.

↠ currently mostly lives in one of the smallest estates, a country house in wales, just because it was always her favourite. her parents, both still alive, live in other estates, always moving around, and the three ( along with a few cousins, especially in the abroad businesses ) work together a lot but it’s very obvious that sera is very much in charge of most things. her parents are old, tired, and more than ready to let their very well prepared jewel do as she pleases.

↠ can often be found reading or writing. especially letters. sends the LONGEST letters with a meticulous elegant handwriting. the selwyn family seal is always in them as is the family motto.

↠ still tries to start shit with hate groups !! still founds them, supports them, is very open about her beliefs and about her support of the death eaters ( even if she never tells anyone she’s one ). sends letters to the ministry to ask for social measures considered by many archaic and purist. writes op-eds. also, buy her books !! they’re full of ideology, history revisionism and currently on sale in your local bookstore.

↠ that’s the thing, you can’t quiet seraphina. her name means fiery and for good reason - she’s calm and collected and beyond well educated, but if she explodes, her rage is a wildfire. and when she feels something, she feels is so damn much. and can’t really cope with most of those feelings so she just hides away where there’s some pretty art or where she can hold an animal’s corpse.

↠ what is emotional stability? what is healthy coping? what is feeling anything but the very extreme?

↠ always wears robes. expensive, custom made, gold thread and that sort of shit in it, but always wizard robes, even if they’re just over a beautiful outfit. looks very traditional and very regal at all times.

↠ also wears gloves very often. good for not staining her hands, and also because has a bit of a thing with germes.

↠ the mental image of her grinning has me so confused because she is DEEPLY passionate about things and people and life, but she can as easily be grinning while looking at a 16th century painting, at a lover, or at the tortured pleading nearly-dead body of a muggle.

↠ she’s a terrible person. fight her.

character parallells: ramsay bolton ( game of thrones ), serena waterford ( handmaid’s tale ), the argents ( teen wolf ), katherine pierce ( the vampire diaries ), jessica huang ( fresh off the boat ), lucy preston ( timeless ), jessica pearson ( suits), arya stark ( game of thrones ), veronica lodge ( riverdale ), cristina yang ( grey’s anatomy ), idk pals i’m bad at this bit

pinterest board ; timeline ; stats

#tragicum:intro #blood tw #death tw #animal cruelty tw #!!!#it's wayu too damn long

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