#it does the weird thing with the two first letters being smaller no matter how hard i try to fix it

[apolloslibrary]

Latin Alphabet Revisited: Pars Ⅱ—consonants and digraphs

So last time i talked about vowels in latin, and before i proceed i'd like to make a slight correction: Y in classical latin was most likely pronounced as U which makes sense - some romans would probably know to pronounce it as a rounded i sound having received greek education, but anyway

So the second, larger part of the alphabet is of course made up of consonants. There's little to talk about here imo except some letters that might cause some confusion but I'll go over all of them anyway

so the consonants of the latin alphabet are

B C D F G H J K L M N P Q R S T V X Z

although if you went a bit back in time you'd find the consonant inventory a little bit smaller at

B C D F H (I) K L M N P Q R S T V X

there might be some mistakes, as I am not showing them at a specific point in time, merely listing the ones I know have stuck around since the earliest days

anyway as you can see, at some point the Latin alphabet lacked letters G J and Z - funnily enough, Z was present in the earliest forms of the latin alphabet (and stood between F and H like Ζζ does in the greek alphabet!) but it didn't see much use, so it was dropped

G essentially arose out of necessity—its inventor was Spurius Carvillius Ruga, who supposedly was tired of people pronouncing his cognomen wrong, because at the time both sounds /k/ and /g/ were written with ⟨C⟩ (as K had fallen out of favour and remained in use mostly for abbreviations and to write the word Kalendæ (calends, the first day of the month, etymon of the word Calendar) so he added a stroke to distinguish them

curious might be the inclusion of ⟨i⟩ to some of you: well originally i and v were originally both vowels and consonants—/i~j/ and /u~w/ respectively (which also means that if I wanted to be extra accurate, I could've written the u's as v's, as that's how romans would have done it, but our current latin spelling convention prefers to use ⟨u⟩ for that

Anyway the pronunciation B /b/; C /k/ - in all positions despite what the ecclesiastical (church) pronunciation or most national pronunciations do D /d/; F /f/; G /g/ - as with C, no matter the position it is pronounced as a hard g H /h/; I/J /j/ - this pronunciation occurs when the letter is surrounded by vowels, or at the beginning of the word while being followed by another vowel (e.g. in IVVENIS - nowadays written as iuvenis or juvenis). I'll make a post about the validity of using J in latin spelling some other day! K /k/ - I'll make a post discussing C K and Q another day, as all three make the same sounds, and it may seem like a weird case of redundancy, especially since K, as I said before, didn't see much use L /l/; M /m/ - today it is agreed upon that the classical pronunciation also featured nasalisation (like the thing that happens in French) of vowels in certain environments, usually triggered by M and N - the ending -um was especially guilty of this - but that's another topic for another day! N /n/; P /p/; Q /k/; R /r/; S /s/; T /t/; V /w/ - similar situation to I/J, where it could be used both as a vowel and as a consonant. Again, IVVENIS/iuvenis is an amazing example here X /ks/ Z /z/ - this letter never appears in native latin words, and the sound isn't native to latin either, it was re-borrowed into latin upon the roman conquest of greece (despite having been part of the alphabet before dropping it lmao - anyway that's the reason Z is at the end of the alphabet now), and it was most likely pronounced /ts/ (like in modern italian). In poetry it counted as two consonants, possibly because in ancient greek it was pronounced either /zd/ or /dz/ (about which I will talk in yet another post)

Ok so with single consonants out of the way, let us discuss the digraphs: there are six notable digraphs in latin I believe:

AE, OE, PH, TH, CH, RH

let's start with ae and oe - those two are usually pronounced identically to E in most traditional and the ecclesiastical pronunciation. Romans however pronounced it more as a diphtong - for example Caesar (Cesar the name) - in German the word became Kaiser, which reflects the antique pronunciation, as e in the diphtong would often sound very close to i.

Ph, Th, and Ch are all roman attempts to transcribe the letters φ (phi) θ (theta) and χ (chi), and similarly to those letters, they are pronounced as apsirated plosives (p in party, t in tonne, c in cake - sorry if I got these wrong, I pronounce them with aspirated plosives and no one seems to find it weird) rather than f english th and english ch or something like that

and now rh - seemingly the most useless digraph in all of latin - this one is another spelling adaptation made to accurately transcribe greek loanwords, and the reason behind is the fact that the greek rhotic - ρ - could actually become unvoiced in two situations: - at the beginning of the word (e.g. of such loanwords in latin rho, rhombus, Rhodus/Rhodos) - when geminated (doubled) in which case the second r would become unvoiced (e.g. diarrhoea, Pyrrhus)

So there it is! I think that's all for the Latin alphabet for now, in future posts I will be explaining some history or fun facts regarding the latin alphabet (such as the C-K-Q redundancy), describe the greek alphabet, and of course start doing some grammar and vocab on here!

#latin #latin alphabet #linguistics #Iacomus docet #alphabet revisited #langblr #history #language learning

[voices-ringing-out]

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY: Eli the Devi

Trigger Warning for Christianity references/allegories

“My friends are dead because of my teachings! The way of love - it wasn’t the way for Gabrielle. I was too proud to see that. What good is this gift if I can’t at least protect the ones I love? Why did you even give this to me? What am I supposed to do? You show me! What am I supposed to do?”

                                                           ~*~

Eli was born to Malachi and Sarita, but never had a chance to know his mother, who passed away shortly after he was born. It had been natural causes; she had fallen ill partway through her pregnancy with Eli, and held onto strength long enough to bring him into the world, to get to know him and help Malachi come to terms with what would be happening before she passed.

To his credit, Malachi tried his hardest to be a good father. He put aside any and all habits that might hinder his ability to provide the best life he could for his son; no more drinking, no more journeys that might prove risky. His world revolved around three things and three things only: his child, working to provide for them, and keeping his wife’s memory alive.

Still, growing up with only himself and his father - who was often scarce, trying to make sure they had money enough to survive - left Eli a very lonely young boy with a tendency to find distractions wherever he could. Usually that meant wandering the village, always getting on well with the other village children, but never connecting enough with them to become proper friends. 

He often found himself wanting to help others in need, becoming frustrated when he couldn’t due to his own poverty-stricken status and his small, thin frame. This frustration came to a head when he was thirteen: Malachi’s best friend, a man named Rakesh who suffered from chronic convulsions, was visiting one day when he fell into a particularly bad fit. Malachi left Eli there with him while he ran to find the village healer. 

While trying to comfort the man, Eli had reached out. When he touched the other’s forehead, he was gripped with a white hot surge, and when it passed, Rakesh had stopped convulsing. He was perfectly fine when Malachi and the doctor returned, and Rakesh never convulsed again. But no matter how hard he tried to replicate it, tried to explain it, Eli could never figure out just how he did what he did - or what exactly he had done in the first place.

After years of wishing he had the power to help, thinking he might have it, and then deciding it had all been a fluke and a coincidence because he couldn’t replicate it, Eli gave up on the dreams of helping others with some god-given power at the age of 16. His father was ailing and he needed to help earn money to survive; it wasn’t something he nor his father was proud of, but he had become adept at magic tricks and illusions, and began making a name for himself as a street magician who did shows for others’ amusement.

Even as an adult, this was the job he took. It didn’t pay well, sometimes, and he took to traveling from town to town to make ends meet, always sending money back to his father; it was the only way he knew how to help, as Malachi was aging and finding it harder and harder to work. 

It’s while traveling in India and putting on his performances that Eli meets Xena and Gabrielle - two women who eventually, through a remarkable chain of circumstances, come to help him realise that he does have powers - he is a Devi, a divine healer who has contact with God. He just hasn’t learnt how to use those powers to the full extent yet. Taken aback, Eli decides to take his leave for a while and mull everything over, trying to come to terms with a fact that he had thought was a dream this entire time.

THE BASICS

full name: eli. in his canon verse, nobody really has surnames; in modern verses/ones where he does have a surname however, his entire name is elisha cyril theodorou - which makes it apparent why he prefers just to go by eli.

aka: eli, the devi

age: it varies verse to verse but in general his age is in the late twenties range!

gender & pronouns: gender doesn’t particularly matter to him, though at the same time he definitely connects to masculine energy - so he/him or they/them are both fine.

orientation: panromantic asexual! which basically means (for him, it varies from asexual to asexual) that he can fall in love with any gender, but doesn’t really have a sex drive. he just likes pleasing his partners in whatever form that takes, but if it does go sexual, he WILL be awkward as hell and people are just gonna have to deal with that.

species: human more or less, though it is up for debate (and differing in other verses)

occupation: street magician, healer

residence: verse-dependent; he travels a lot, and canonically they ran across him in india - i would imagine he often travels up and down from greece to india on a semi regular basis.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

hair: long and oftentimes braided or tied back with some sort of fabric or ribbons; thick and black.

eyes: an expressive, stormy blue-grey.

complexion: lightly tanned from his frequent travels in the outdoors.

build: he was very small and skinny as a child, oftentimes looking sickly, but grew to be quite tall in his later teen years - he’s leaner now, with more muscle on him, but still fairly thin.

scars: most scars he has from his travels; various accidents, such as the time he was bucked off a horse, or the time that he lost his footing climbing a ridge and tumbled down a sheer cliffside. a few scars he has from fights, but he generally prefers to flee rather than fight if given the choice - at first out of fear, but then out of a desire for peace.

tattoos: he has none, though has occasionally had others create temporary art on his body with henna. he enjoys how it looks.

piercings: a variety of ear piercings, with golden hoops being his favourite jewelry to place there.

etc: when he’s truly joyful, he smiles with his whole face - a grin with the teeth showing, dimples in his cheeks, eyebrows raised, eyes dancing. he feels emotions intensely -  whether they be grief or joy or fear - and no matter how hard he tries to hide them, his face is so often an open book, easil and expressing his feelings for all to see.

face claim(s): timothy omundson for most of his verse faceclaims, though i’m still looking for a childhood faceclaim!

PERSONALITY

zodiac: pisces

alignment: somewhere between lawful and neutral good

hogwarts: hufflepuff

positive traits: compassionate, gentle, generous, perceptive

negative traits: anxious, can be a pushover sometimes, insecure, perfectionist.

MEDICAL RECORD

mental: he has anxiety, but other than that, not much else that could be diagnosed.

physical: N/A

phobias: atychiphobia (fear of failure), thanataphobia (fear of death/dying), thalassophobia (fear of deep water).

eyesight: excellent.

drug use: verse-dependent; in most verses, eli tends to stay away from drugs.

alcohol use: again, verse-dependent, but it isn’t frequent - he’s a social drinker, or will have perhaps a glass of wine occasionally.

BACKGROUND

birth place: unknown

ethnicity: greek mostly, i think; mediterranean at any rate.

parents: malachi and sarita

siblings: none, but he considers anyone he grows close to as family, whether that be siblings, children, or otherwise.

pets: he travels too much to provide a home for pets, but has oftentimes helped feed and take care of stray animals - cats, dogs, or otherwise - that ended up following him on his journeys. he loves animals.

education: he didn’t receive a formal education, instead learning trades and skills as he grew from those around him. he was fortunate enough to get book-learning, something many people in his village didn’t receive growing up, thanks to his travels later on in his teen years.

notable skills: magic tricks and illusions he has mastered the art of, which proves to be his greatest skill - it is his main source of income before he turns to the nomadic life. he also has a love for wood carving, often making little figurines that he will sell for money on the side. other skills he has are just those expected of someone in his world - how to farm and hunt if needed to feed himself, how to take care of others as best he can, etc.

languages: this is tricky because of the way the xena: warrior princess canon is set up lol. let’s just say he knows english and depending on verse, can also speak some hebrew, greek, and hindu.

#character introductions > eli #introductions #i had to use just screenshots since the only gif i found of eli wouldnd't load rip #anyway have my angel baby #why is it th at any time i try to do the fucking headings in larger text it won't work #it does the weird thing with the two first letters being smaller no matter how hard i try to fix it

[plokoonsdisapprovingeyebrows]

Frame type headcanon ramble because I’ve had it sitting around for ages and I wanna share it lol. There’ll be a part 2 at some point so I can talk more about the individual frame types cause there’s lots of them.

PART 2 HERE

Notes on Frame Type:

↠   Frametype refers to physical (non-electrical) schematics like skeletal structure, engine type/grade, and armor pattern. Also comes with some base coding, some inherited memory data, and some other weird shit that no-one really knows a whole lot about (because the Primacy only grants study proposals once in a blue moon). Because it's the most visible level of differentiation between Cybertronians, it tends to be the first... sorting system that they categorize themselves by, resulting in stuff like Functionism.

↠   Divided into three 'ancestral types' based on mythological divisions of the Thirteen: 

Warframes claim descent from Prima the Sword, Megatronus the Shield, Liege Maximo the Burning Torch, and the Wanderer. They are distinguished by their thicker armor, more struts and shock absorbers in their skeletal system, more flex joints practically everywhere, and some more fun stuff I'm not sure how to describe as yet. 

Groundframes claim descent from the Record-Keeper, the Muse, Alchemist the Philosopher, and Solus the Smith. They are distinguished by not having most of the stuff listed above. 

Flightframes claim descent from Vector the Timekeeper, Nexus the Sundered, the Guiding Hand, and the Guardian Wall, and are distinguished by being flight-capable (without deliberate modding). 

Over time, these three ancestral types split into several quite different phenotypes — unintentionally due to environmental pressures, such as the case of the minibots during the Cataclysm, or through deliberate engineering, such as the Second Generation military projects that led to the creation of dexters, rotaries, and flighted warbuilds ('Seekers').

↠   Most Cybertronian languages have a pronoun system that is either based around or can be extended into frame types. I’ve been using letter-number codes to describe them — please imagine that they're standing in for sounds I can't possibly transcribe in human orthography lmao.

Coda to the above point — I really fuckin hate the Aligned canon of 'there are 13 different frametypes based on the Thirteen Primes and one of them is Girl', so mech vs. femme is 100% not a thing here. There are no 'girl' frametypes and 'boy' frametypes, there are no girl robots and no boy robots at all, I'm just using she/he/they/etc. pronouns for English-language convenience. 

↠   Shifters have their own system configurations and technically their own frametype, but they have a 'root form' that usually conforms outwardly to one of the standard frametypes. Shifters tend to be smaller (and they're an absolute nightmare for medics, Shifter medical care is its own specialty) and are commonly classed with various minibot subtypes. Jazz, for example, is usually an articulate, but he can make himself as big as a light standard or as small as a sylph.

↠   Triplechangers also have their own system configuration and frametype, but unless they have visibly incongruent kibble (or they're using their pronoun i guess) it's common to mistake them for heavy warbuilds. One way to tell them apart? The warbuilds tend to have narrower waists. It's not foolproof, but triplechangers are generally packing more stuff in their innards. With heavy warbuilds the frametype ideal is to stuff as many important components as possible into their heavily-armored chests. Which is just not possible with the triplechangers.

Notes on System Configuration:

↠   System Configuration refers to processor schematics, (most) computer hardware, (most) software, and electrical system components/layout. It's a lot more important and relevant to your average Cybertronian than frame type is in most cases, but also largely invisible from the outside. Some system configurations are more common in certain frametypes; for example the ferus and efficiens systems are particularly widespread among flightframes as compared to groundframes, but in general any frametype could have any of the five standard configurations.

↠   Shifter configuration is the only one of the special configurations that is 'natural' — it goes back to Amalgamous the Star of Chaos, one of the Thirteen. The others were all the product of deliberate engineering. Although the fracture and gestalt configurations were inspired by the mythical depiction of Nexus Prime as having five component bodies, Nexus did not pass down this trait, and it was left up to daring scientists to recreate.

↠   Literally any transformation-capable frametype can be reformatted into a gestalt configuration, allowing that mech to combine with up to five other mecha. (My combiners tend to look something more like Bayverse Devastator sans wrecking balls, incidentally. Love that alien look.) Theoretically you could even do it with someone like Omega Supreme but nobody has yet because the size difference is Awkward.

↠   Fracture configuration likewise is something someone of any frametype can be reformatted into — it's basically just a matter of getting an extra body or two that matches your existing frametype and creating a spark-deep network. It can be a steep learning curve to pay attention to more than one body at once, though, and that's where the special system configuration comes in. A fracturemech's frametype is whatever frametype their component bodies are — unlike gestalts, a fracturemech's components all match. They do have a combined form, but the form that counts for frametype purposes is the one that can transform — and combined mecha can't transform.

↠   the Sparked Ship Special and Sparked City Special configurations are notable for having more individual variation than any other system configuration — they are tailor-made for the individual ship or city according to their projected needs and environments. 

They are classed as a group rather than as 'Unclassified Configurations' because they do share some basic architecture and also are uniformly ridiculously complex. Most are paired with semi-independent AIs in a permanent network, and they all deliberately add lots of new stuff to their system over the course of their long long lives, in response to external pressures or even just plain curiosity or boredom. (Much like regular Cybertronians, in fact; these guys — sparked cities in particular — just aren't limited to whatever they can stuff into a frame that needs to transform on the regular.)

Notes on Size Class:

↠  the main concern of size class is weight and mass rather than height per se; height classes cross over with each other and the weight classes don't. You get classed to match the weight; so even if you're, say, only 12' tall and massing to match Class 3, if you weigh over 500kg you get classed in Class 4. 

Height does matter in that manufacturers and builders tend to assume that if you weigh and mass a certain amount then you're going to be within a certain height range as well, for ease of standardization. And once you get much beyond Class 12, very few manufacturers and whatnot account for you anyway, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

#book of hours worldbuilding #tfp headcanons #size class is sort of ancillary but i wanted to make that meme so bad #someday i'll actually draw some robot hands doing the thing

[bigfrozenfan-fanfics]

Chapter 09 - Sisters

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

As Halvard slowly walked back to camp with the other men, still thinking about Yelana's news, he wanted to see what was going on in the camp at first and looked for his family. Linnea and Honeymaren were supposed to look after the toddlers of the camp during the Norting. But he only saw his wife, who was clearly having trouble with the little ones. Where was just his daughter? He was starting to get angry and looked in their kota first.

~~~

“Get up, Honeymaren, come on! You're still sleeping. You had only one important task this morning,” someone called out in an angry tone and shook her rudely by the shoulder.

“Hmm ...?” Honeymaren slowly opened her eyes and blinked. She saw the respectful figure of her father standing above her, now with his hands put on his hips, and his face indicating nothing good.

“Where were you last night? What's the matter with you?”

She got up slowly and struggled with her tiredness. “Nothing, I was just ... on the beach at sunset and fell asleep. Didn't wake up until after it was nightfall. Sorry.” She yawned and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “It won't happen again, papa, I promise.”

Her father shook his head, “Come on, daughter, your mother is wondering where you are. She's all alone with the naughty boys from the camp and you were supposed to help her mind the little ones today.”

“Why didn't you wake me up?” she asked, looking at him from drowsy eyelids.

“That's what we did this morning when we went out. However, you didn't hear us obviously. Otherwise you always get up right after us ...,” he said, looking at her without understanding, “What's wrong with you recently? Come on, get dressed and then get out.”

She looked after him as he walked out first. Then she put on her clothes and followed him.

She walked wearily between the kotas and already heard the laughter of several small children from a distance even before she saw her mother and the cheeky gang. She stopped and watched for a moment. Linnea looked a bit overwhelmed as she tried to keep everyone under control. Honeymaren finally walked on and clapped her hands loudly. The children's heads spun around and two of them ran towards her laughing and calling her name. She didn't feel like it; she thought, but seeing her mother like that touched her conscience. It was time for an apology.

~~~

Ryder was on his way back to camp and had a brooding expression on his face. It had been his first time at this kind of meetings and he wondered why everything has to be kept from the Arendellians. They were their friends now, and he liked Kristoff above all, because he was like him and let Sven talk the same way he did with his reindeer. But he was not allowed to tell them anything about the Great Ting and what was exposed in it. This made him feel sadness and at the same time frustrated and guilty. How could he tell Kristoff that they were all in great danger?

Ryder was so lost in thought that he was startled when someone suddenly spoke to him. He looked up in surprise and realized that instead of going to the camp and to Kristoff, he was now standing in front of his reindeer herd. One of the two young boys who had been looking after them in the meantime said, “Hey Ryder. Why are you looking so downheartedly at? Are you sick or something?”

Ryder put his usual smile back on, “No, no. There's nothing wrong with me. I was just thinking. You gonna be okay with the herd?”

The two nodded and the other said, “Sure, everything's fine. Why?”

“I just wanted to say good morning to Kristoff but was all in thoughts and made a wrong turn.”

They looked at each other and then at him again and laughed. “Made a wrong turn?”

Oh, man, that was embarrassing now; Ryder thought to himself and rolled his eyes. “Well, it happens, right? It's probably never happened to you guys before.”

“Nope,” they said, as if from one mouth.

Ryder took turns looking from one to the other and he couldn't help but notice this little grin on their faces. Well, this could become cheerful, he thought and said, “All right. You take care of everything and I'll be off again.” He turned around at the last word and walked back into the woods with big steps. They already had an answer on their lips, but could only look after him irritated. Ryder grinned and whispered, “No, boys, not with me. Not today.”

~~~

Elsa had been walking all morning across the camp and had looked around. Many were not on the road, there were mainly women at work, and younger Northuldra to be seen, no men. Elsa wondered about this for a moment, but was distracted, because she was constantly greeted friendly and even the children knew her name. Elsa was amazed and greeted everyone back with a smile. Why does everyone here know me, if I am not from here; she asked herself. What had Myrtha told her? She was a good friend of the Northuldra. But even the little children here addressed her with 'Hello, Elsa'. There was something the healer kept from her.

She mused, remembering that Myrtha had hesitated at first. Then she recalled the letters from Queen Anna that she had read, very personal letters to her, with many things she didn't understand. Not yet anyway; she thought. She absolutely had to find her sister and talk to her, she was certainly still here somewhere in the camp.

Elsa looked around and then went back to her kota on another way. Finally she saw people with clothes looking different, sitting in front of a cold fireplace, her sister with her back to her. She could recognize her by her strawberry-blonde hair, now when she remembered her evening visit. The man opposite her was dressed similar to the Northuldra, but looked somewhat different. And then there was this little guy who had frightened her so much that night. Now in the daylight he did not look so scary to her anymore at all. He even seemed to be quite funny and somehow she felt such a strange feeling of closeness, but could not tell what it was exactly.

She walked towards the small group that was talking lively and stopped behind Anna. The man's jaw dropped when he noticed her and stared at her. This little white guy also seemed very surprised.

“Kristoff? What ...,” Anna asked and turned around. The next moment she jumped up and hugged her sister not a second later. “Elsa!”

Elsa felt taken by surprise, but withstood the reflex to retreat. Maybe that was her usual greeting; she thought and put her arms gently around Anna. She felt herself being pulled into a firm and intimate embrace, and Anna didn't let go so quickly.

After what felt like a minute, Elsa finally cleared her throat and immediately got more air, when Anna held her at half an arm's length and looked deep into her eyes. Their gazes fixated each other and in some way it seemed that they wanted to explore their bare souls. With anyone else this moment would have been unpleasant for Elsa, but here and now something special came into being between the two of them, something that somehow seemed familiar to her. She could feel it clearly and see it in Anna's deep blue eyes.

None of them spoke a word. Anna looked a lot like her, she could see that now. Since she had seen her own reflection in a brook yesterday, she now also knew her own countenance. The main difference was of course the color of her hair and she was also a bit smaller than her. But otherwise she almost saw herself standing before her. They just stood there and explored each other with glances. Until finally somebody said, “Guys ... um ... we're still here too?”

They separated and Anna sat down again, but pulled Elsa down, next to her. She didn't mind and so now she sat beside her sister on a log in the camp and felt all eyes on her.

“Well, that was a little weird for me now and you all look like you have a lot of questions for me. But believe me, it's the other way around, because I still can't remember anything.”

A tense silence arose and finally Anna took the floor and said, “We'll help you, Elsa. Just ask us anything you want to know.”

Elsa looked at her, “I know that you are Anna, my sister, and the Queen of Arendelle, and that I come from there. But they are not my memories, I was only told this. That’s all I know for certain, I do not remember anything else. Even after I read all your letters, nothing in them felt familiar.”

Anna nodded understandingly and slightly touched Elsa's arm. “Perhaps I'd better introduce the others to you first. This here is Kristoff, my fiancé,” she explained, pointing at him with her other hand.

Kristoff didn't seem to know how to handle this situation and greeted only softly, “Hello, Elsa.”

“And this is Olaf, he's ...,” Anna faltered. How only could she explain this, she wondered. “He is ... well, he's a snowman, and ...,” she didn't know what to say without reveal Elsa the whole truth.

But Olaf, however, was unaware of such concerns and, as straightforward as he was, came out with the facts. “You magically created me, Elsa. Without you, I would not exist.” Anna's head fell on her chest, her hands in front of her face. Now it was out. Oh, Olaf; she thought.

“I did what?” Elsa asked stunned and stared at him in disbelief. Then she looked at Anna and then at Kristoff and put on a wry grin. “Sure. Honestly, guys, I may have lost my memory, but you can't be serious. Magically created! Plus a ... snowman, whatever that is. Then what am I if I could do such things?”

“You've had this ability since you were born and you're the only one who can do things like that,” Anna finally admitted. “This blessing was a gift.”

Elsa's mouth still remained open and for a few moments she could not say anything in reply. Then she recovered from the shock and said, shaking her head, “I can't believe it. Please pinch me so I can wake up again.” Anna took it literally and pinched her upper arm hard.

“Ow!” Elsa rubbed the spot and searched in their faces in front of her, but everyone looked at her only curiously. “You all really mean it.” Everyone nodded silently. “A gift ... why and from whom? How can you give something like this as a gift at all? Besides, I feel perfectly normal and have no idea how to do that.”

“Well, Elsa, that's one of the many reasons why I'm going to bring you back to Arendelle,” Anna said, smiling affectionately and stroking her cheek tenderly. “Home.”

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 09 #bigfrozenfan

[philosopherking1887]

Writer tag game

Thanks for tagging me, @ectogeo-rebubbles... 4, days ago, sorry; my parents are visiting and I haven’t had much time to myself.

How many works do you have on AO3?

61

(Why is the number so big when I post? @sapphosewrites said the same thing, so I know it’s not just me...)

What's your total AO3 word count?

515,575

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Mostly Zuko-centric ATLA fics because a couple were inspired by a BNA whom I tagged in the Tumblr post, then she reblogged and lots of people saw them.

Between the Salt Water and the Sea Strand

To Give Birth to a Dancing Star (didn’t get very far on that one, oops)

The Last Argument

Zeno’s Paradox (the only non-ATLA fic on this list; I posted it very shortly after Thor: Ragnarok came out, before I realized how terrible it was)

Shame and Necessity

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, almost always (unless someone said something weird, or one person left a bunch of identical short comments on different chapters of the same fic; it seems a bit silly to respond to every “<3″ with “Thanks!”). I respond to encourage people to keep commenting, by assuring them that I’m reading comments, I pay attention to their content, and I appreciate them. I especially like it when people comment on specific themes in the fic or how it relates to some aspect of canon, so that it starts an analytical conversation about the story and the characters -- which is what a lot of us are here for.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’m gonna say The Third Time, because Loki actually permanently dies.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Starting Over, I guess? That’s the hopeful ending of my Thorki series, taking place before some hypothetical version of the Infinity War storyline in which neither of our principal characters dies (because fuck the actual movies, and fuck Ragnarok too, while we’re at it). But there are other fics, sometimes intermediate in one of my series, that have hopeful rather than downbeat endings, even if more complications arise later. The Ninth Deadly Sin is a rare standalone fic with a happy ending (which I’d forgotten about until I went looking through my Works page for happy endings). Prince of Darkness also has a fairly happy ending that involves solving climate change with Frost Giants...

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

No, at least not yet. I have nothing against them in principle, and sometimes enjoy reading them, but since the target audience is the intersection of two (or more) fandoms, it’s necessarily going to be smaller than either fandom on its own.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really related to the fic. I did get a random nasty comment on a Garashir fic about a fan letter I wrote to Tom Hiddleston (and handed to his manager-person after seeing Betrayal in London) and then posted on Tumblr. Just someone being an asshole.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do indeed! I write very chatty smut, with a lot of feelings, often angsty, and sometimes awkward, because sex can be awkward, especially if one or more of the participants is inexperienced (at least with bodies like their partner’s).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes -- someone translated No Exit into French as Aucune sortie (though actually, the French title of the Sartre play that I named the fic after is Huis clos).

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I’m inevitably going to answer that kind of question with my current favorite ship, which is Garashir... but that might actually be my all-time favorite ship because the fandom is a lot more welcoming and chill than others I’ve been in before.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hoo boy. All the people I’ve seen doing this tag game previously have said they don’t have any; I have 5 partially posted WIPs in old fandoms that I doubt I’ll pick up again. I think I’ve tagged most of them as “on hiatus” and warned readers in author’s notes that I probably won’t finish... Do I want to finish them? In theory, yes; in practice, no.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve most often received compliments on my dialogue, which I also find the easiest thing to write; my favorite version of this compliment is when people say that they can hear the dialogue in the actors’/characters’ voices. Some people enjoy the philosophical discussions that I can’t help inserting into my fics...  

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plots. Thing happening. I cannot come up with plots. All of my fics are just people talking and having thoughts and feelings about things.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ask yourself: what does it add to have the dialogue in the language it’s supposed to be in rather than translated? If the POV character speaks the language, would it be sufficient to note that they’ve switched to a different language, or put it in italics or something to indicate that? If the POV character doesn’t speak the language, would it make more sense to just say that other characters have spoken an unintelligible string in another language, or that they just caught a few words, or whatever? That’s not to say that there’s never a good reason to include the actual language; if the actual words are important, or if it matters that the POV character doesn’t switch effortlessly between languages, or if it just adds some richness of texture that you’re going for, it can make sense.

If it’s a real language that you’re not fluent in, do ask someone who is to check your grammar.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, of course; I am that age, after all. I wrote fics about Tom Riddle and/or Voldemort when I was in middle school in 2001-2. I’ve always been interested in the villain’s perspective.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

At the moment, Had we but world enough, and time. It stayed reasonably self-contained while also covering the issues I wanted it to cover, with some smut thrown in. Maybe my best fic is actually an older one, but my favorite is always in my current fandom, because that’s what I’m excited about... and I’d like to think my writing has been improving with practice.

Tagging: @delicatetrashstranger, @vermin-disciple, @hex-o, @judiops, @the-last-dillpickle... and @illwynd and @incredifishface (since I actually ended up talking about my Loki and Thorki fics in this one).

#fic writer tag game #my fanfiction

[hoodie-2]

Hours had passed since the "math duel" and the sun had began its descent, setting the town ablaze with a warm orange glow. Krel had spent a portion of the evening exploring, or rather wandering, throughout more of the town, observing it's people. Many of the humans were out in pairs at this hour, some of the pairs had included smaller versions of themselves in whatever activities they were partaking in. He had spied a young pair of, well, human girls at the park, almost identical except in the tones of their skin and the color of their hair, and a pair of adults he assumed were their parents seated on a bench not far away, sitting at polar ends from each other on the bench conversing on their communication devices, otherwise leaving the two children on their own.

The girls themselves didn't appear perturbed or at all bothered by their parents behavior, more entertained by the images on the platform they made with the unusual writing untensils in their tiny hands. Well, all Earthly untensils were unusual in Krel's perspective; pencils, pens, markers, but ones that the two girls used were different even from those. These were maybe the length of an unused pencil but far thicker than a marker and... powdery? His head tipped as he watched one blow away part of her line, the colorful powder pushed into the air in one big gust, as she redrew the line. Her fairer toned sibling patted a hand on her clothes, a blue colored handprint left behind on the green fabric. Both girls took notice of the mark and giggled, the first girl Krel was watching pressed a hand to her own clothes and left a pink handprint similar to the other's blue. The action brought a smile to his face, it has been a while since that happened.

He eyed the girls' parents again. Would it be rude if he just started talking to the children? Their parents didn't seem to be very attentive at the moment. Doesn't that sound familiar? But he was curious about their weird, colorful writing tools. Hm, maybe if he just kept a decent distance as he spoke to them. He didn't want to come off as strange.

"Excuse me," he approached the girls, kneeling to their height at what he believed was a respectable distance. Both girls looked at him, shifting as if they were preparing to run at the first opportunity, Krel wasn't exactly surprised by the reaction seeing as a lot of the commercials on the picture box involved something called 'stranger danger' and he was, afterall, a stranger to them. But he pointed at their drawings, from a closer examination the colorful etchings turned out to be crude imitations of other Earth creatures, a lot of them with long ears and roundish tails and a few like clouds with legs. "What is that you are writing with?"

The wariness in their eyes wavered as they looked down at the drawings around them and then at the untensils in their hands.

"You mean chalk?" The yellow-haired one asked, pointing her free hand to the blue powdery stick she held.

"Chalk," Krel echoed thoughtfully. "And you, ah, draw with it?"

"Yea, dummy," her sister answered. "Haven't you used chalk before?" They gave him identical looks of confusion only someone their age could.

"No, actually, I haven't." Krel answered back quietly. "We don't have anything like 'chalk' where I am from." He looked down at their drawings again, noticing colors other than pink and blue, there was a yellow circle he figured was the sun judging by the green landscape below it and many other colorful dots he supposed were plants. His head tilted so the image wasn't completely upside down in his perspective. "You have some very pretty drawings."

"Do you want to try?" The yellow-haired girl asked, holding out her chalk stick to him.

He eyed the shrunken piece of blue in her open palm. "A- are you sure?"

"Sure!" The girl chirped, a smile spreading over her features, a matching one on her sister's as well. "We do this all the time, its fun."

Krel took the chalk from her, rolling it and turning it in his hand, blue powder stuck to his palm wherever it touched. He looked up to see the girl reach behind her sister and pull out another stick of chalk, purple this time. They went back to scribbling on the bricks around them. He watched as their creativity grew and spread, narrowly crossing over each other's work and somehow still blending together.

Looking down at the emptiness around him where their chalk hadn't yet touched. What would he draw, he wondered. Things considered artistic escaped him, even on his planet; he couldn't understand poetry, the closest he gets to crafting is inventing gadgets, even basic drawing on a telepad wasn't something he had much skill in. What could he draw? Well, shapes are pretty simple.

He started with a triangle, Earth's history was full of them according to Kubritz and her research teams. Ancient tombs and monuments to societies that have long since passed, the triangle was acknowledged as the strongest structure, those words rang true clearly. A square, the basic form of most present day structures; there wasn't anything too spectacular about it, a little more space than a triangle, sure but meh. Then a circle, a shape Krel was most familiar with, there wasn't a screen or viewing monitor in Akiridion-5 that did not have circles, and even then there were links that connected them to more circles. On Earth, circles meant unity to some and a means of 'alien' communication to others - Kubritz.

"Can't you draw?" The brown-haired girl asked as she crawled over to look at his work.

"I am not very talented." Krel admitted. "But drawing with chalk is fun."

"Try drawing your family." Her sister suggested as she joined them. "That helps me sometimes."

Krel hummed at that logic. It was sound enough, even if he was currently at odds with his family and it was an extremely delicate situation. But they are human children, it was probably best to go along with it.

He started with Aja, forcing himself to recall her human form; it wasn't perfect, especially since he was limited to one color but he knew. Next his mother, whose disguise he's only seen a handful of times so this may be a little more difficult. That was nothing to drawing his father. How does one draw face fur?

The girls giggled at the etching.

"That one looks like a monkey." The yellow-haired one pointed to his etching. His gaze roamed over the attempted drawing and felt laughter bubbling in his chest.

"It seems you are right." Oh, how was Krel going to look at his father's face without laughing now?

He looked around them, seeing that the sky was gradually getting darker, getting closer to the time that younglings would be taken back to their homes. The girls' parents were still occupied with their own priorities, poor girls.

"I suppose I should go," he sighed, giving back the chalk he was given, "you will be going home soon." Krel did not expect such saddened expressions at his words.

"Do you have to?" The brown-haired girl asked, watching him stand up.

"I'm afraid so." He dusted the blue powder on to his jeans. "But I'm sure we will see each other again."

"Really?" The yellow-haired girl asked excitedly.

"Of course," Krel chuckled. "I wander around when I have free time." He watched as they shared a look, tipping his head as they stood as well, the yellow-haired one picking up the blue chalk and holding it out to him again.

"My name's Abby," she said, bouncing a little on her heels as she shook the chalk at him.

"And I'm Gabby." Her sister added proudly. "You can have the blue one, then we can draw again next time. Right?"

A smile pulled at his lips again. It would be a shame to see their faces fall again in sadness. He took the chalk from Abby. "That sounds fun. My name is Krel, it was nice to meet you both."

They waved at him as he walked away, pocketing the chalk he was gifted. Maybe he can find out where they get it next time so he can obtain more himself. He admired the blue powder that tainted his palm, opening and closing his hand, it was somehow amusing how the color clung to his flesh. It was almost as if his real body was peering through, if only.

After a bit of wandering, the sky growing darker, and some of the street lights were blinking to life Krel found himself at a back alley behind some stores that surrounded the park, if his memory of the town map was correct. It was empty of any lifeform that was human as he stepped in, looking around at his surroundings carefully; four-legged creatures that he was told were cats saw his approach and ran off into hiding; even smaller creatures scurried away behind them, leaving Krel alone with the garbage bins of two different sizes, the walls of the buildings were clean aside from the occasional stain near the bins or moss that grew more toward the ground.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to do so but he pulled the piece of chalk from his pocket and wrote the equation from the math duel, following it with his correct work and answer. Satisfaction washed over him as he wrote his answer, the right answer, his original answer. He was still a bit stuck on his why's during the duel, he knew he did a good thing for Seamus so what did it matter anymore. Why did Seamus stare at him when it was over?

Krel's hand moved to write another equation, it was more complex but watching the letters and numbers come into being it made sense to him, it always made sense to him, similar to cataloging past events and his planning for the future. It was comforting as he continued the equation, spreading it further along the wall, blue clear against the red brick but still convoluted. Had he been less taken in with his work he probably would have felt more guilty about how much of the chalk he was using up. He didn't notice the approaching person behind him until they addressed him.

"Kubritz?"

Krel whipped around, instinctively taking up a defensive battle stance startling the newcomer. That was... Seamus? And was holding an item in each hand, they didnt seem to be weapons though so he could relax somewhat. Not completely though, he has noticed around the education prison that some human males in their age group tended to be, well, boorish and found amusement in harassing other males they perceived as weak, and Krel's human form unfortunately suited that perception. Primitive. He'll be sure to correct that.

"Uh... hey," Seamus waved one of the things he held, the action stiff. His eyes flicked beyond Krel, looking over the equations behind him. "What're you working on?" His gaze followed the equation to the start, lingering on the work shown. "Looks complicated."

"You have no idea." Krel wasn't trusting this interaction, not that there was any reason to.

"Hey- Look, you can relax, uh, whatever move that is," Seamus gestured to Krel's posture with whatever it was he held. "What is that anyway? Judo? Jujitsu?"

Krel eased his stance but kept a leery eye still on the human. "Nothing you have ever seen, I assure you." He answered in little more than a monotone.

"Ookay...?" The human coughed, taking a few meeger steps toward him with a hand extended outward. "You want a burrito? I dunno if you've eaten yet or anything but it's an idea right?" He gave a pitiful laugh as he stopped only a few feet away, the thing in his hand slumping over his fingers like it was trying to slip out of his grip.

As a being of energy, Krel had no need to consume organic materials, but he has been curious. On another hand Earth has a history in poisoning consumables for enemies, again not that it should affect him, maybe.

A sigh escaped Seamus, seeming to notice Krel's reluctance. "I just want to apologize for my behavior." He said, "You didn't deserve it. You earned the grade fair and square."

"I suppose I should say that I'm relieved you've gained some sense." Krel retorted, not completely convinced.

"Okay... I earned that." Krel saw Seamus' grip tighten around the 'burrito', his restraint was admirable. "But you didn't have to let me win, so why did you?"

Krel finally took the burrito, examining it for a moment before tearing the aluminum wrapping like he's seen other humans do and bite into it. The texture was strange, soft, soggy; the taste was savory, it was weird feeling the crunch of vegetables but overall it wasn't bad but he didn't have much in expectations, so, another point for Earth.

"Wanna sit?" Seamus gestured to the the sidewalk. Krel didn't object, taking another bite of his burrito and joining him on the cold cement just a yard or so from a flickering lamppost.

"I had nothing to gain," he answered finally, getting a startled look, "from winning the math duel. Nothing to lose either, unlike you."

The human's head ducked almost sheepishly. He must have recalled how loud his father was in bellowing their agreement. If it could have been called that.

"Again, I'm sorry," he declared. "My dad just has high expectations. Very high."

"Understandable."

"Is it really?"

Krel frowned at him. "Just because my parents are not present does not mean I don't have my own problems with them."

Seamus' face turned even more guilt ridden. "R-right, sorry," he stammered, a red hue spreading over his features. He was quiet for a moment, taking large distracting bites of his own burrito. The silence allowed Krel a moment to gather his thoughts about the present situation, and possibly plan for what could happen next. Maybe he could somehow make Seamus an ally, like Aja had with the majority of their peers, to keep his disguise here. It certainly would make things easier than researching every tidbit about this mudball to blend in while Morando outsources the search for Gaylen's core. The question was how to do so.

"You," Seamus spoke up again, breaking the silence between them, "you came from a warring country, right, like Aja Tarron and her family?"

The words brought a bitter curl to his lips. Her family, may as well be, ironic, consider she used to run away from her family at every opportunity.

"Yes," Krel answered softly. "Maybe even the same country, if luck would have it." Some luck that would be.

"What happened? I-if you don't mind me asking."

The expression on Seamus' face was different from before; softer, solemn, perhaps even sympathetic. It's been a clear background to his class that Krel escaped from a war torn country with no family besides Morando who was discharged due to injury during the fight. Could this be the opportunity he needed to make Seamus his ally? To make a 'friend'? In one quote Krel had heard, he now understood. When opportunity knocks, it would be wise to open the door.

"I-it all happened so fast," Krel began, quickly coming up with details to twist the story from the traumatic reality. "It happened on the coronation day for the royal heirs; my parents both had high political and military positions so my sister and I were allowed good seats to see the crowning," he kept his voice low, allowing some of the emotion he kept at bay to fill his words, "everyone was excited, we all had high hopes. The princess hadn't made her appearance yet when the attack happened." Krel swallowed thickly as the real memory came to mind. The running, his parents ordering him and Zadra to find Aja, falling behind, and being left behind. "It was chaos; people were running everywhere, trying to find each other and to find shelter, soldiers and their weapons, the cannon fire..." his eyes were leaking again, it was too much already with so little spoken. What was wrong with him? "I- I was too slow, my... my parents- my sister, gah, what is wrong with me?" He took the fabric of his shirt, quickly trying to wipe away the streaming liquid, his chest felt heavy, his core ached. Krel hadn't felt like this since he first found Aja and their parents on Earth. His head hurt.

A hand touched his shoulder making him freeze up. "It's okay." Seamus' voice was calm, relaxing even. "You've been through a lot, huh?"

Krel sniffed, trying to regain some composure before answering. "You have no idea."

#tales of arcadia #3below #krel tarron #aja tarron #general morando #morandos prodigy au #king failkov #queen coranda #seamus johnson #trollhunters #space camp #this is getting so long so imma make a part 3

[pekorosu]

just a lil “if ash lived” headcanon that i need to unload somewhere bc i've been holding it in for a long time

- set within the manga ‘verse

- takes place when ash and eiji are in their early 30s... so around the mid 1990s?

- i don’t get the weird animanga trope where older = longer hair, so they’re gonna look the same... maybe with slightly shorter hair bc they get regular haircuts now 

- (note: i've always interpreted long-haired eiji as symbolic of the fact that he couldn't move on from ash’s death)

- ash and eiji will continue living in the states, idk if still in NYC or somewhere else. they’ll move around a lot though.

- ash will mostly remain underground as he had to fake his death after lao’s stab, but he does it in a "hiding in plain sight" kind of way. only a handful of people know he’s still alive.  

- ash spends most of his time on the computer, mostly coding, hacking, being a nerd, among other fun stuff.

- he also takes on “jobs” anonymously, and occasionally from max (who’s still into investigative journalism) when he needs info that can only be obtained through Dubious Means.

- i also like to think that ash's a bit of a hacker robin hood lol. but he isn’t doing it purely out of the goodness of his heart, as part of it is a subconscious need to atone for his “sins” and cleanse the gnawing and persistent feeling of shame that gets amplified when he’s around eiji.

- also whatever he’s up to these days would ofc still be Highly Dangerous and Illegal, but it keeps him busy and would sate the part of him that’s still hungry for adrenaline without him having to engage in stuff like active bloodshed or substance abuse. basically that’s how i imagine he’d try to cope with life the only way he knows.

- eiji continues to do photography and other part time gigs bc he does not like the idea of mooching off ash forever, and he slowly makes a name for himself.

- ash and eiji live together but they are NOT together in a romantic sense... not yet >:)

- therefore eiji will probably date other people in the meantime, which gets a little troublesome bc it's not like he can bring them home to where his secret Very Important Friend is secretly hiding.

- ash will maybe have one-night stands every now and then. or not. idk. this isn’t a very important detail.

- anyway there will be lots of clueless but mutual pining :)

- ash especially, is of the opinion that they should start living separately bc someone will eventually track him down, maybe someone who has a past or present grudge on him. combined with his current activities, it’s only a matter of time before eiji would unwittingly get dragged into his problems again.

- eiji is v adamantly against that plan bc he's sorta developed a debilitating sense of paranoia that ash might just get killed somewhere while he’s not looking. not that ash isn’t paranoid either, but his insecurities often tip the scale over to “eiji is safer away from me” than “with me”.

- basically they’re doing their whole “stay. no, leave. no, stay” dance all over again, but like, dragged out over MANY YEARS.

- you thought eiji’s letter would’ve cleared up any crossed wires? 

- HELL NO

- like yea, there was probably a beautiful honeymoon period of about a year or two after they reunited, before their respective trauma and issues started creeping in and fucking things up again.

- esp on ash’s end, i think he’d engage in a lot of self-sabotage. and eiji is only human, he has his own limits and baggage too.

- there will be a government conspiracy plotline but on a smaller scale compared to canon that i am unfortunately not knowledgeable enough to worldbuild on, but it will probably have something to do with cybercrime/cyberterrorism/stuff like that bc it needs to tie in with ash's hacking shenanigans.

- i've heard that sing ends up becoming some sorta political big shot in yasha? idk, i haven't read it myself, but since china’s rising status was mentioned in GoL i imagine the plot should relate to that somehow.

- therefore sing would also get to be in this story! 

- i guess this means yut-lung would come into the picture at some point as well, and it would be a good opportunity for a redemption arc but i haven’t given it much of a thought bc i’m indifferent to his character orz SORRY.

- look i can’t do plot, but i am basically envisioning a political thriller with a side of slow burn romance (wait, you mean like a rehash of canon?)

- i’m thinking max is the one who kicks off the story by bringing something fishy to ash, and they just end up uncovering more and more and MORE stuff as they keep going.

- so for like 80% of the story, ash and eiji will be separated bc ash will be busy spying or infiltrating something... and being at the center of Plot Things, while max and eiji will be more on the outside dealing with the journalist side of things. i’m fond of max-ash interactions but i’m also REALLY CURIOUS about max-eiji’s dynamic :D

- meanwhile sing will be like, half in and half out i imagine. he's versatile like that lol

- ...i did NOT mean that in a dirty way

- anyway, this will provide ash and eiji ample space to work out their issues separately, as i think living in close quarters for so many years has actually been aggravating them. ofc those issues don’t get 100% resolved by the end, but some time apart from each other to cool off and spend with other people should provide a bit of perspective.

- i want ash to make some NEW FRIENDS (!!!) that are on the same wavelength as him bc there’s only so much that he can tell eiji and i’m sure he gets rather lonely, so there will be OCs that he will meet in the middle of Plot Things.

- ash will get trapped at some point. preferably with sing so they can have a much needed heart-to-heart talk. they’ll have a lot to hash out, ranging from the events in BF, shorter’s and lao’s death, all the way to ash’s love life. 

- btw i like the idea of eiji and sing being close drinking buddies who confide in one another but ash is kinda, justalittle, not very happy about that LOL 

- i mean, it's not like eiji can confide in ash when ash is the topic at hand, ya get me? as for sing, he’s similar to ash in the sense that they live dangerous lives, so i imagine he just finds it nice to be able to hang out with someone mundane like eiji every now and then.

- not to say that ash and sing aren’t talking to each other at all, but i think they’d have a bit of a rift between them. sing probably does feel some resentment, both at ash for killing lao AND at himself bc he knows deep down that given a choice, he would’ve saved ash over his own brother. ash can sense that tortured vibe, so eiji’s like their middle man. AND THAT’S WHY THEY NEED A HEART-TO-HEART TALK

- (SIDE NOTE: i want akira to have a role in this too. i actually have a separate headcanon that happens prior to this story... kinda like an alternate GoL? 

akira goes to the states to visit eiji, but ash is also there, yeah? akira and ash start out sorta prickly with each other bc ash is all weird and standoffish and always cooped up in his room. she probably mistook him as a jobless model mooching off eiji at first since 1) eiji and ibe have never spoken about him back in japan (cuz he’s supposed to be dead), 2) why would eiji be living with some random hot guy? unless they met during one of his photography gigs? right??? 

and then she ends up witnessing them in the middle of a tiff, which makes her not like ash even more bc HOW DARE HE YELL AT POOR OKUMURA-SAN??? UNGRATEFUL JERK!!!

but over the course of her visit, she snoops around learns a bit about their history and gathers hints as to why their r’ship is kinda strained. also ash and akira somehow end up bonding (reluctantly) over their emotional insecurities and part on a friendly rivalry to win over eiji’s affections (which eiji is completely oblivious to. also akira may have been 100% serious but ash was just jokingly playing along with her (OR WAS HE???)). anyway long story short, ash teaches akira some cool tech/IT stuff along the way so that leads to her gaining an interest in the field. 

she won’t be able to do much in this story, but a minor role would be cool :)

 ^ a lighthearted gyoza-making scene amid all the angst)

- (SIDE NOTE #2: i ALSO want cain to feature in this, but bc canon provided very little bg info on him it’s hard for me to figure out where he’d fit. but i suppose that’s precisely why it would be great to include him, since i can just make up my own backstory! lol. for now, i think he should be connected to one of the new OCs to make him more central to the plot. or heck, he can be involved himself! ...yeah, i’m just salty about how cain was treated more like a convenient plot device compared to the other major side characters. we barely know anything about him even though he was one of ash’s most trusted allies. #caindeservedbetter2k20)

- anyway, back to the main story. ash (and his new "friends") barely escape where they’re held hostage. ash would be rusty with combat now as he’s spent the past few years doing only stealth work and being rather sedentary. 

- so there’ll be lotsa old man!ash jokes like them poking fun at him whenever he complains about his back hehe

- when they finally emerge outside they find themselves in the middle of nowhere! they then hijack a passing pickup truck and do a roadtrip back to civilisation. ROAD TRIP FTW

- at this point, quite some time has already passed and ash even has a fuzzy beard and mane and all. he’s standing at the back of the truck with a small smile on his face and the wind blowing in his hair, thinking GONNA GO BACK AND SEE EIJI, MISS HIM LOADS, HELL YEA 

- (bonus: this song and this scene is the catalyst for this entire headcanon btw)

(drew this about a year ago. i was trying to imitate the manga’s art style... and the ash i had in my mind was a little different. i’m too lazy to redraw, but he’s fuzzier now okay! MORE FUZZ! like an actual freakin LION!)

- meanwhile, eiji and max will get into some deep shit around this point? 

- eiji in the pic above was me imagining that the Bad Guys had tossed some damning evidence (eg. severed body part?) on the ground like “ash’s dead/ash’s in a lot of danger now so hand over all the info u have”

- and eiji and max are like. SHOOKETH

- this would be the 3rd time ash has “died” after all, and as they say... 3rd time's the charm...

- eiji almost gives in, but then max spits in their face like fuck no and then... yeah. they get beat up and taken away or something lol

- EDIT: hmm... what if the Bad Guy is someone IN the government, and he uses his power to get eiji and max arrested for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive (ash). and then ash has to rescue them... JAILBREAK STYLE

- also it might be cool to introduce ash's mom somewhere in this story... maybe SHE'S the villain! mwahaha *drama intensifies*

- anyways they will get saved by ash and gang bc that’s just the way things go, BUT! only on the condition they already made it out at least 80% of the way bc GODDAMN IT👏LET👏EIJI👏BE👏BADASS👏FOR👏ONCE👏 

- (that is, after he overcomes the initial shock of ash possibly being dead again... again...... again............)

- there will ofc be moments of “oh my god, you’re okay” "i thought i lost you...!"

- something like this, because one can never have enough cheesy reunion scenes

- this will eventually lead to REVELATIONS (of the romantic kind, yes) 

- buuuut they will never say "i love you" directly to each other bc ash is too emotionally constipated and eiji is too japanese. it's okay, they will communicate it through heated stares 👀

- i would love for there to be a scene where they have to be separated again for Plot Reasons and ash sorta hesitantly goes all "...will you wait for me?" as a direct parallel to canon!eiji's "i'll be waiting" and it’s like,

- FINALLY! 

- FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! ash has finally allowed himself to ask for this, to let himself want it! 

- and eiji would be like OF COURSE I WILL YOU BIG DUMMY, ALWAYS AND FOREVER

- but i think it'd be hilarious if eiji pops up while ash's in the middle of the final showdown and ash's like WTF I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME and eiji's like I WAS WORRIED OKAY YOU WERE TAKING SO LONG

- idk how this is supposed to end...

- oh wait! since the plot is government-related, maybe Someone will be able to pull strings to wipe out ash’s criminal record (past and present) and give him a brand new 100% legal identity, as thanks for his efforts? or maybe ash (or sing) just does it himself somewhere along the way LOL. anyway, he’ll be able to start over with a fresh clean slate and finally work on recovery FOR REAL NOW. yes this is a happy ending AND it didn’t require him to go to japan /flips off canon

- ...i realise it’s never going to be that simple but W H A T E V E R

- (also they probably will visit japan in the future with that shiny new passport... gotta meet the in-laws and all y’know)

- who do i gotta pay to write this cheesy self-indulgent fic for me

#since tumblr is for talking to myself that is exactly what im gonna do now #a very long self-indulgent post // #banana fish

[indiavolowetrust]

The Obey Me! Boys and a Blind!MC

**MC is considered to have NLP (No Light Perception) and is classed as having total visual impairment / total blindness.

**O&M (Orientation and Mobility) skills are skills that aid in safe and effective travel for the blind, which includes cane skills and independent travel.

Lucifer

He is incredibly surprised to have pulled someone like you into the Devildom, especially considering how dangerous the Devildom is to the able-bodied human. He gives you a double-take and glances back at Diavolo once or twice to make absolute sure that is the right human. Diavolo gives him a thumbs up. Lucifer can already feel a stress headache.

Likely the most courteous of his brothers in consideration with your disability. Unlike his brothers, he does not ask inappropriate questions (ex. Can you see this? How about this? How about now?) and is content to leave things as they are.

The first week, nearly everything you do gives him a heart attack. Your cane misses a fire hydrant, and you end up stubbing your toe on it. You forget where the table ended when you pick up something, and you smash the back of your head against the underside. You leave something in the middle of your room, trip and fall in the middle of the night while cursing, and within moments he is bursting through the door. By the end of the week, he is a sleepless, exhausted mess.

As one of the prominent members at RAD, he is responsible for what documents you receive and in which format you receive those documents. You have to explain to him that simply placing Braille where the letters would normally be on a worksheet isn’t exactly as doable as he thinks it is.

Being the proud bastard he is -- and after developing feelings for you -- he is somewhat perturbed that you prefer his idiot-brother Mammon to be your guide whenever they go out to places. He does take the pleasure of explaining visual cues of the places they go, however.

Mammon

He is both surprised and disgruntled that he has to take care of a human that isn’t able-bodied. Assumes that you’ll be even more trouble than your worth. Does a few things (i.e. offensive, stupid things) like wave his hand in front of your face and do weird things in front of you just to see if you’ll react. Given that his complete lack of subtlety and the fact that you can very much feel his arm waving in front of you, you scare the living hell out of him by grabbing his arm.

As brash and rude as he was, however, he does an okay job of orienting you to the House of Lamentation. But that might also be due to the simplistic layout of the halls. The places that you really need to know -- like the path to your room from the door and the path to the kitchen and dining area -- are easy to memorize thanks to his efforts.

Like Lucifer, nearly every blunder you make gives Mammon a heart attack (for fear that Lucifer will kill him if you die). He doesn’t really understand what can and can’t kill a human, but it doesn’t take long for him to realize that slipping and falling face-first into carpet isn’t exactly life-threatening.

As he begins to develop a crush on you, he becomes more and more possessive about who gets to guide you around. He was your first guy and first guide in the Devildom, after all. You eventually feel comfortable enough with him as a guide to fold up your cane while you walk with him, trusting him completely.

Leviathan

He expects you to look like one of those blind girls in anime and is surprised to see the near-complete lack of trademark features. You have no cataracts or anything of the sort that would promote the appearance of milky-white eyes, and you’re rather capable on your own once you become acquainted with the layout of a place. Because of this -- and also because he is a massive weeb -- you can feel the weight of his stare when you do the most habitual things. You call him out the fifth or sixth time you catch him watching you take out the trash.

It takes a little while to realize the extent of your blindness. Your proficient independence skills, good O&M (orientation and mobility skills), and spatial awareness skills throws him off for a bit. He is only convinced when he accidentally makes you walk face-first into his door.

Despite your rocky introduction, you two eventually bond over anime. Levi puts on the audio description when it’s available. When it isn’t he’s more than happy to explain the visuals to you, especially when it’s his fortieth time rewatching TSL.

As he develops a crush on you, he begins to make more and more excuses for you two to watch anime together, even if it isn’t new or the kind that he would want to watch. He takes note of your likes and dislikes, taking the approach much like he would a boss in a dungeon, and copes with his feelings that way.

Satan

Next to Lucifer, he’s definitely one of the most respectful in the group regarding your condition. He takes it upon himself to read as much as he can about your condition and blindness in general, his initial interest more scholarly than anything. The first few weeks that you know him are filled with questions like: So, can you see light? How much light can you see? Can you see figures or shadows at all? What was it like when you had more vision?

He feel regret after threatening you when you refused to make a pact with him. Aside from the fact that he just threatened a blind (and in his opinion) helpless human, he also severely damaged a friendship between the both of you. He makes it up to you in his own way afterwards by acquiring a number of audiobooks and Braille books for you to read.

Given his insatiable thirst for knowledge, he is also very, very interested in how you can read Braille and how you take tests without sight. After learning that you sometimes prefer requesting a scribe to take longer exams, he immediately tries to sign himself up as a student scribe at RAD. As you are one of the only students at RAD with a visual impairment -- and perhaps the only one -- you are surprised and also not surprised to see Satan waiting in the exam area for you, your exam evidently in front of him.

As his feelings develop for you, they take the form of finding reasons to take you out to library dates, accompanying you to various stores for accessible equipment, finding and acquiring various reading materials for you, and generally just inserting himself whenever possible under the pretense of being a fellow book-lover.

Asmodeus

He’s preoccupied more with the fact that you have such a plain taste in clothing than he is about your blindness. Even after standing by the principle that comfort is ultimately more important than “making a statement”, he takes it upon himself to get you at least enough clothing for a decent capsule wardrobe. Cue being dragged around the Devildom’s boutiques all day as he dresses you up in various outfits, undresses you (his favorite part), and ultimately entertains himself the whole time while you suffer.

He’s fascinated by the tactile guides that you use to do your makeup (on the rare occasion that you bother to do so). After watching you a few times, he gets you up to date on the latest makeup trends and does his best to explain the visual effect of each. Your interest in his hobby makes him happier than he would admit. It sparks a routine of doing your beauty regimen together almost every night, with Asmo being more than happy to make you his guinea pig for products.

Makes you touch his face right after learning that you’re blind, which is an awkward experience. Your first reaction to pull your hands back and startle offends him, as he (wrongly) believes that that’s what you do when you meet a blind human.

As he develops feelings for you, he gets somehow even more touchy, much to the irritation of the rest of his brothers. While he never quite makes the first move in the way of taking you to bed, he does take as many opportunities to touch and explore you as much as possible, no matter what the circumstance may be.

Beelzebub

Despite that fact that he would very much like to eat you, his impression of you as a cute, helpless little thing deters him from doing so. Given his impressive height and stature, he sees you as smaller than you really are and treats you accordingly. He takes the time to redirect you when he sees you wandering in the halls, often without many words or any explanation as to why, and he tends to act as a human shield for you in RAD to prevent you from being caught up in the crowd.

When Mammon isn’t there to be your guide, he’s definitely your second choice because of his sheer size. Similarly, you eventually become comfortable enough with him to fold up your cane when he guides you, as your impression of him has devolved from “big, scary demon” into “scary but gentle giant”.

Stands up for you when other students begin making fun of you for your disability / wondering if you’re only faking, given that you don’t fit into the able-bodied person’s idea of what a blind person should look like. Beelzebub catches wind after a few weeks, and after a rumor of certain hospitalized demons, the bullying ceases.

Connects with you through food. While you’re pretty sure that having no sight doesn’t make much of an impact on your ability to taste food, Beel seems to think otherwise. He tends to hand-feed you whatever it is that he’s eating at the moment, often surprising you. You figure it’s Beel’s choice of love language, given that he that he tries to feed his brothers anything and everything when they feel upset.

Likewise, he often chooses to team up with you on dinner duty to both make things easier for you and to sneak more food because you can’t see him. When you feel less servings than there should be in the pot, however, you know damned well who ate the rest.

Belphegor

Upon first meeting you, he’s very confused as to how exactly you found his prison in the attic. Then again, it’s not like he cares exactly who lets him out of his prison. Because of that, he thinks it’s much easier to fool you into thinking that he’s human.

He feels extreme remorse after killing you, knowing fully that he used your trust against you and that he took advantage of your disability. It takes a long time for you to get comfortable enough to be even with the same room with him, given that he quite literally murdered you in another timeline. When he does somehow manage to regain your trust -- after many attempts and efforts on his part -- you two end up falling asleep together.

Becomes just as protective over you as Beel is, essentially taking notes from his twin. As his feelings develop towards you, he shows it in his own way: namely by allowing you to touch his massive tactile collection of comforters, blankets, and pillows. How exactly he stuffed so many bedsheets and pillows into one room is ... impressive.

Note:I am aware that this does not speak for all blind people because there are varying levels and very, very many causes for blindness. These are based on my own personal experiences.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey belphegor #i didnt really see any headcanons for disabled mcs so #here we are #obey me hcs #obey me hc #obey me headcanons

[beanzykin]

Evan Morgan Reznick

A Breznick fanfiction

Summary: Breznick soulmate AU

"Have any of your soulmate initials switched?" Claire asked, filling the silence in the locker room with a question she's been wanting to ask forever. "Mm… no. They've been L.D ever since I was twelve," Shaun carefully placed his toy scalpel in his bag while Morgan opened her locker. "Nope," Alex turned around, "M.W, always. Why has yours recently changed?" 

"Yeah- well… not recently, more like when I was fourteen. But, one of the letters is still crossed out," She placed a hand on her right thigh where her soulmate's initials are. "I've never really told anyone, but I haven't seen anyone else's initials crossed out…" She trailed off, allowing the other three doctor's fill in the blanks that it was something she didn't talk much about. "That's weird," Alex gave Morgan a look only for her to ignore it by taking a sip from the day-old water in her bottle.

Claire scoffed, "They used to be C-E.R, but now the 'E' is crossed out and replaced with an 'M'-" Before Claire got a chance to continue, Morgan spit out her water and fell into a fit of non-stop coughing which caught everyone's attention.

Cristina-Morgan, Reznick. 

Caroline thought it'd be a good idea to give her child a longer name, that way her art signature would be more unique… Now looking back at it, it was a stupid desicion consitering Morgan hates art.

Despite choking on water -and the initial shock of the situation- Morgan managed to choke out some sorta sentence reassuring her sudden outburst.

"Those are my initials-" Alex froze on his way to help the blonde that was practically suffocating. 

A few more seconds of Morgan choking to death, Claire broke the thick tension that filled the previously dead silent room.

"What…?" Morgan took another sip after (and to help) her body calmed down. “Wait… you don’t have mine… right?” Claire felt her heart speed up when whipped her mouth and nodded her head.

"Alright, me and Shaun will see you two tomorrow…" Alex tapped Shaun's bag to catch his attention, leaving the two women to sort out their predicament. He didn't want to make the situation worse or more awkward, not that he was sure they were soulmates, or what the crossed out 'E' meant; but he didn't want to make either of them uncomfortable.

"Are you-… you're sure about this?" Claire asked as Shaun and Alex left the room. Morgan felt her eyes burn at the contact with Claire's "Well, I suspected it once I had your initials, but you're straight and never said anything…"

"Well I never said anything because your name starts with a 'C' and has an 'E' in the middle of it!" Claire's confusion brought her to her next question.

"Why is there an 'E'?" Morgan looked down at her shoe, avoiding the question and filing with her water bottle. "The 'E' is crossed out, what does it stand for?" She asked again, getting impatient with the situation. "It doesn't matter-" Claire interrupted her. "Well it kinda does, how do I know if you're actually my soulmate?!" 

Morgan looked back up, "I have C.B on my collar bone and you have my initials on your leg, right? Why does it matter?" 

"Cause I don't know if you're lying about being my soulmate or not!" Claire bitterly laughed at the end, clearly getting more pressed by the second. "So what if I'm not? What's so disappointing about that?! I'm lying, I'm not your soulmate. Just go find him!"  

The smaller doctor sighed, "We'll what if you are?! And you're actually lying to me! You obviously know why there was or still is an 'E', just tell me already!"

"Because I'm trans!" Morgan confessed, albeit a bit louder than she should. “See, that's all you had to do? Was that so Goddamn hard!?" Her tone was now mirroring Morgan's.

"YES! Yes, it was! And you don't fucking understand that!" She put her back to the locker and slid down shakily, her head making its way to her hands.

"Are you crying, is that how shitty of a soulmate I am?" For a split second, Morgan wanted to say yes -Even if she didn’t exactly mean it-, but her body felt like it was choking on that gross luke-warm water again and she couldn’t breathe.

It took Claire to realize that not everyone is as accepting of who their soulmate might be. She could only imagine that Morgan thought her soulmate would be immensely disappointed. Especially now -that Morgan has learnt she is her soulmate- since Morgan's only ever heard about Claire's past boyfriends, and on top of that, she's trans.

Her mind went back to what Morgan was previously hinting at:

'I'm not your soulmate, just go find him!'

'But you're straight…'

"Morgan, you are a wonderful woman," Claire slowly sat down next to her, "And you've only ever heard me talk about my soulmate being a man… right?" Morgan's hair and hands hid her face, but Claire could tell she nodded. "I've had girlfriends before, and I don't care if you're trans or not."

Claire hesitantly moved a little closer. "It's not that- well, kinda… I know you wouldn't care if I was transgender or not, but I didn't know you liked women. It's just that I have my deadname on your leg," Morgan sniffed and rubbed her eyes before looking at Claire and continuing, "My name's Morgan, and it should've been like that from the start… no? Like, does this mean I'll never actually pass with whatever universe-god-thing that created soulmates,"

It pained Claire's heart to hear her voice get shakier with each word. Locking eyes with Morgan's pink, tear-filled ones, she lightly put her hand on Morgan's cheek. 

This time, she felt a different feeling in her heart when Morgan closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, allowing the tears to finally fall.

Morgan softly smiled and grabbed Claire's wrist, bringing it down to her knees and crawling it with her other one. Without breaking eye contact, Claire moved her thumb to delicately caress Morgans.

"I want you to believe me when I say I'm not disappointed, Morgan," The smaller doctor felt Morgan play with her fingers and smiled. "I do… and I want you to too. There has been so many times where I actually hoped you were- will be," she corrected herself briefly, "-my soulmate. When I first met you I genuinely thought that that was it. That I had won the most beautiful woman in the world," 

Now it was Claire's turn to cry. She's never seen this side of Morgan before, has never been told something that sweet and genuine before either. And it was ultimately the best words she's ever heard in her entire life, it's just an added bonus that they're coming from Morgan Reznick.

Without a second thought, Claire pulled Morgan in and did something she never even thought of doing before.

It's just that her mind was screaming 'Kiss her. She's so soft and cute and she's actually one of the sweetest people you've ever met! Her lips look as soft as her hair, if not, even softer!' And that's all it took.

Morgan let out a small squeak of surprise and froze for a moment before kissing back. Claire felt her hand drop and then another smoothing out her jawline and sighed into the kiss.

She couldn't tell if it was Morgan or if it was just the first time kissing her soulmate, but it felt so perfect. 

Once they pulled apart and caught their breath, Morgan was the first one to talk. "You felt that too, right?" Claire couldn't help but smile wider, knowing exactly what she meant. "Yeah," She breathed out in awe. 

The two of them giggled before leaning in for another small peck. Morgan let her hand fall from the side of Claire's face, the way it trailed down her neck gave the small brunette goosebumps.

"Guess we'll have to know each other better bow, huh?" Claire bit her lip to keep her from smiling so much but to avail.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

#breznick #the good doctor #morgan reznick #clairgan #claire browne x morgan reznick #morgan reznick x claire browne #tgd #tgd fanfiction #the good doctor fanfiction #breznick fanfiction

[sunlightdances]

Happy Mistake (College!Bucky x Reader Oneshot)

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Request from @jbbuckybarnes​: Being assigned roommates with modern!Bucky. He's a giant and looks like he's a bully, but he's actually so shy and soft. Author’s Note: *It’s been 84 years.gif* So sorry this took so long! Note: There’s note writing in this fic - italics are the Reader, and bold are from Bucky. PS - I listened to the playlist “Relaxing Classical Strings” on Spotify whilst writing and I highly recommend it. Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes, Marvel, or any related characters from the MCU. Please don’t repost my work on any other sites (including collections or hosting sites) without my permission! Reblogs are gold. I’d love to hear from you if you like this!

You’re sweating a little as you unpack your last box, wondering why colleges always pick the absolute hottest day of the year to have everyone move in.

You step back and admire your work - your bookshelf is organized and you’ve got one of your favorite scented candles burning on your nightstand. You can already picture yourself studying here, and staying up too late drinking homemade cocktails with your roommate.

Loud voices from the living room draw your attention, and you feel those nervous butterflies - you hope you get along with your roommate for this year. Last year was definitely an adventure, and not in a good way. You’re just praying this person is nice and considerate.

Heading out to the common area you stop in your tracks, seeing three guys lugging in boxes. They smile at you a little curiously, but don’t say much. You look around them for your roommate, but you have no idea what they look like. You’re a little embarrassed to admit that you can’t remember what their name is either - you lost that handy piece of information almost immediately after it was mailed to your parents’ house over the summer.

“Hi,” One of the guys says, holding out his hand. He’s tall, well built, with dark hair that looks like he spent an hour coiffing it just right. His eyes are the most distracting thing about him. “I’m James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

You smile and tell him your name. “I’m waiting for my roommate - are you helping her move in?”

His smile fades. “Are you kidding?”

You feel your face get hot. “... No?”

He stares at you so intensely you can practically feel it. “Where’s your friend? Are you helping him?”

“Holy shit, dude.” His friend - large, blonde, and a smile out of a magazine - says, laughing.

James sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We have to go to the RA. I think they made a mistake.”

You frown. “What are you talking about? How would you even know? You’re not--”

“Your roommate? It’s me.” He digs in his pocket for a letter from the University, handing it to you. Right there, in bold letters, it reads James Barnes, Easton Hall, 305.

Your stomach sinks when you realize what happened. “Oh. Right -- I don’t know how this could have happened.”

He groans, turning to his friend. “Remember when you said moving in for a second year would be easy? You’re a jinx.”

You fold your arms over your stomach, trying to stave off the urge to cry. It’s not your fault or his fault, but you just wished this wasn’t happening. You just wanted an easy year for once.

“Hey,” James’ friend says, looking at you with so much concern you almost believe you’ve known him longer than 5 minutes. “It’s going to be fine.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“God. Stop flirting.” James complains, elbowing Steve.

Steve looks annoyed, “Shut up. Let’s go fix this before one or both of you are homeless.”

The RA was almost zero help. They gave you plenty of sympathetic looks, but otherwise had no idea what to do to fix your situation.

Back in the dorm, you sit helplessly on the end of your bed, trying to ignore James on the phone in the common area.

You look up when he comes into the room, knocking lightly on the door frame. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You reply, wondering if you look as pathetic as you feel. Your insides are a twisted up ball of anxiety.

“The admissions office was no help. They said they’d have to sort it out and with everyone moving in, they might not have a free room for either of us for a few days.”

You nod, and he tilts his head slightly to one side. “Hey, this isn’t your fault.”

You huff. “I know, I just-- I wanted this year to be better than last year and it’s already off to a terrible start.”

His eyes are sparkling a little as he pretends to be offended. “Most girls would be excited at the prospect of sharing a dorm with me, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “I guess you better get unpacked. Who knows when or if they’ll ever get back to you.”

He winks so you know he was joking before. “You can call me Bucky,” he says offhandedly. “All my friends do.”

.

.

.

That was three months ago, and you’re still living with Bucky Barnes.

You’re making it work, but it’s still an awkward conversation every time you have friends over. You still haven’t told your parents.

You’re an adult, but you’re still sure your Dad would flip knowing you’re living with a very eligible bachelor. Very eligible, as you’ve learned.

You’ve never met someone who goes on as many dates as Bucky does. Some of them you’re positive are just friends, and he invites you out with them sometimes, but it still feels weird. Most of the time you stay in, opting to study instead of third wheeling it with Bucky.

You’ve taken to leaving each other notes around the dorm when the other one is out - the only way you can think to get a message across sometimes.

All out of milk, stop at the store on your way home?

You leave that message taped to the fridge in the morning when you leave before him, and when you get home in the afternoon, there’s a new note in its place.

Forgot the milk, but got chocolate chip cookies. Priorities? Then, scrawled smaller, (sorry. Will buy in the morning)

You roll your eyes, but eat two of the cookies while you’re doing your homework later that night after dinner.

The next morning, you hear the door a few times and are just about ready to open your bedroom door and throw a fit when you hear Bucky shush someone.

“Dude, can you please speak at a normal volume for someone at six in the morning? She’s asleep--”

“Sorry, I’m a morning person.” You recognize Steve’s voice and roll your eyes, rolling back over and hoping for a few more hours of sleep before your first class.

Meanwhile, Bucky follows Steve out of the dorm, trying to keep his steps light and quiet as he shuts the door behind them.

Steve chuckles, and Bucky glares. Pretty standard for this pair of friends.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so worried about her. It’s cute.” He ducks away from Bucky’s punch.

“Shut up.”

“Really, dude. Don’t think I missed the way you looked at her on move-in day. When are you going to do something about it?”

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, “It’s a bad idea.” Steve scoffs, and Bucky continues, “Seriously. We’re roommates. If something happened and it didn’t work out--”

“How do you know it won’t work out?”

“Just drop it, okay?”

Steve shakes his head, but doesn’t push it any further. Bucky swallows his feelings down, down, down. He can at least admit to himself that Steve’s right about one thing: when he first met you and thought you were his roommate’s friend or sister or something, he was ready to lay on the charm.

You’re beautiful, and funny, and there’s something about you that sticks with him like glue. He can’t shake the feeling, and he really doesn’t want to.

But he’s afraid, too. Because what if it does ruin everything? If he’s honest, you’re the best roommate he’s ever had. And not just because the dynamic between you two is good, even though that’s definitely part of it. But you’re courteous, and you do small things like set the coffee maker up the night before so there’s hot coffee on mornings when he gets up earlier than you do.

You leave him a reminder on the kitchen counter not to forget his notebook, the one with the torn cover that he always loses. You check on him if he’s staying up too late and you make sure to buy the ice cream he likes when it’s your turn to do the shopping.

It’s like you actually care about him beyond just being his roommate, and he’s never felt that kind of connection with anyone before.

At that, he has to keep himself from stopping dead in his tracks as he walks with Steve.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

.

.

.

Bucky comes home while you’re tugging on a sweater, getting ready to leave for your first class. You lean out of the door, smiling, but he heads straight for the shower and shuts the bathroom door.

You frown; it’s unlike him to ignore you completely.

You figure he’s tired after his run with Steve, but can’t get rid of the niggling worry in the back of your mind that something’s wrong.

The day drags on, and you find yourself nearly falling asleep during your last class - your mind elsewhere and attention lacking. Towards the end of class, you text Bucky, asking him if he’s going to be home for dinner.

No response.

Not unusual, but to your anxiety brain? You immediately start thinking the worst. You’re replaying every conversation from the last week, trying to remember if you’ve done anything that could have possibly made him upset.

When you get home, his bedroom door is shut, but the light is on. You try to go about business as usual, writing him a note that there’s dinner in the fridge and sliding it under the door when he still doesn’t come out, even after an hour of meal prepping.

Taking the hint, you take your own meal into your bedroom and shut the door.

After an hour or so, you try not to feel hurt when you hear his door opening, and then the sound of the front door. No matter how hard you try not to take it personally, you can’t help it when your stomach sinks.

He doesn’t come back that night.

Or the next two.

By day three, you’ve moved on from hurt and have settled on anger.

There are no more notes, no anything to indicate that he’s been in the dorm at all and has just missed you. There’s nothing.

This goes on for a few more days before you’re sitting on the couch, listening to a key being put in the lock. Your heart starts to race, and you sort of hate yourself for leaning forward, waiting for him to step into view.

It’s not Bucky.

Steve looks sheepish, even a little upset as he gives you a wave, shoving the keys in his pocket. “Hey,” he says quietly. “I’m uh-- Bucky asked me to get a few things.”

You don’t even know what to say. This feels like a break up, except you and Bucky have never been together, and you have no idea why he’s not sleeping here, or why he’s not talking to you.

Your throat starts to tighten as you fight off the threat of tears.

And it’s worse because Steve looks embarrassed, and he looks sorry for you and he’s so nice, and you hate it. You don’t want him to pity you.

You just watch helplessly as he goes into Bucky’s room, the sound of drawers opening and closing the only thing you hear for a few minutes before he comes back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, I-- I told him he should talk to you. I don’t really know what happened--”

“Nothing happened.” You say, frustrated. “I just came home one day and he ignored me and he’s been ignoring me ever since.”

Steve’s jaw ticks. “What day was that?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. A few days ago. When you and he went for a run early in the morning.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry. I think-- I need to go talk to him. Hang in there, okay?” He ruffles your hair as he leaves, and you realize he’s left Bucky’s bag behind.

.

.

.

Bucky is staring at his phone when Steve comes back, slamming the door behind him. “Christ,” Bucky mutters. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem.”

Bucky frowns, looking up to see his best friend looking pissed.

“I just went to your dorm. Your roommate was there.”

Bucky feels the familiar feeling of guilt and self loathing come over him, but doesn’t know what to say, so he lets Steve continue with his tirade.

“She had no idea you were here. She had no idea why you were gone, and she had no idea what she did wrong.” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You made it seem like you guys had a fight or something! And then she said you’ve been ignoring her ever since our conversation the other day. If you’re really pushing her away because I was giving you a hard time--”

“That’s not what’s happening.”

“Then why the hell are you sleeping on my couch?” Steve asks exasperated. “It’s not like I don’t like having you here, but come on, dude.”

Bucky swallows heavily, trying to get his bearings. “You were right, okay?” He says it quietly. “I’m-- getting attached.”

Steve watches him carefully. “I think you need to be telling her this, not me.”

Bucky rubs his face. “I know.”

Steve smiles slyly. “I forgot your clothes. Looks like you need to go home.”

.

.

.

Bucky feels like an idiot.

He’s knocking on the door to his own dorm because he was in such a rush to leave Steve’s, he forgot his key.

And now he’s waiting for you to open the door, half sure that you’re going to slap him across the face when you see him.

The door opens, and he’s struck by the sight of you. You look sad. But you’re beautiful, and he has no idea how he thought he was ever going to be able to live with you, see you every day, and not fall head over heels for you.

“Bucky.” You sound surprised.

“Um-- I forgot my key.”

“Oh, sure. Uh-- come in.”

He follows you inside, and takes a deep breath. “I think we need to talk.”

You look apprehensive, and he hates himself for doing this to you. You sit down on the couch and he does the same thing, mirroring you.

“I owe you an apology. I didn’t -- I shouldn’t have just left. Or ignored your texts. I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s not like-- you don’t owe me--”

“Yes, I do.” Bucky is adamant. “Look - when we first met, I was really unsure how we were going to get through this. Obviously we weren’t meant to be living together. But now I can’t imagine it any other way.”

You laugh, though it still sounds a little sad. “I thought you were this big, scary guy.” You look down at your lap, wringing your hands. “I was really wrong about you.”

Bucky wants nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and make up for every sad feeling you’ve had over the last few days.

“I’m sorry. I never should have ignored you. I was-- I was kind of panicking.”

You tilt your head. Bucky thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Why would you be panicking?”

He decides to just bite the bullet. “I think I have feelings for you.” At your quick inhale, he shakes his head, “No, I know I have feelings for you. You just-- crept up on me. And I freaked out, because Steve kept getting on my case about it, and--”

His rambling is stopped when you grab his arm, tugging him towards you before throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug. Bucky freezes at first, but soon melts into you, sighing at your touch and burying his face in your neck.

“I missed you,” you whisper, and Bucky feels his knees go weak. How he ever thought you weren’t going to have him wrapped around your finger, he has no idea.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry.”

.

.

.

6 months later

“Buck?”

“I’m coming--”

“We’re going to be late…”

“We’re not going to be late. We’re going to be early, because you think early is on time.” He comes out of the bedroom, pulling his leather jacket on. He grins at you, voice softening. “Look at you.”

You feel your face heat. “Stop it,”

“What? I can’t compliment my girl?”

“If we’re late again, Steve is going to roast you. And if he doesn’t, Peggy will.”

Bucky grabs your hand, rolling his eyes. “You worry too much. Come on.” As you’re walking, he’s muttering under his breath about double dates, but you can tell he’s happy to go out - the both of you have been so swamped with school, you’ve been shut up in your dorm for days.

The day after your talk with Bucky, you slowly but surely began working your way towards a relationship. It wasn’t hard - you were already close friends, and without the fear of thinking either of you were going to be rejected, it was easy to take the next step.

Now, as you walk through the building hand in hand, you’re so grateful that someone in the housing department screwed up.

From the spark in Bucky’s eye as he winks at you, you think he is too.

#bucky barnes x reader #prompt fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

[toribun]

αγάπη

Words :: 6,6k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, talk about social anxiety, some bad talk about chimchim, a mention about becoming lesbian, future angst, future smut.

CHAPTER 2

the phone call with your mom was definitely the most stressful phone call you had to take in your life. It was even worse than the time you almost sat the whole apartment on fire when you tried to make your friend eggs and bacon for her birthday breakfast. 

She had gotten worried demanding that you gave her your soulmates whole name and the number to Mrs.Kim. You knew you couldn’t give her that though. It would only make matters worse. You loved your mother to death, but she was a bit aggressive when it came to her children. You knew if you gave your mother Mrs.Kims number that she would lash out and probably be sued by the company because of harassment. And you knew she didn’t have enough money saved up to pay for compensation or a good lawyer.

You hadn’t slept much that night. You were too nervous about the meeting with Mrs.Kim and about your neighbor’s reaction to you having visitors. You were supposed to lay low, but everyone in your town knew you never had people over. you were kind of known in town as the young girl that wasn’t capable of making any friends.But most of all you were nervous about how many people Mrs.Kim would bring with her. She said she would bring a full security team. How many people is that? Would they just stand outside your house all day? Because that would definitely bring you an unnecessary amount of attention from your neighbors. 

You hadn’t read anything more about Jimin in your letter nor have you searched for any information about him or his company on the internet. You figured that you would be better of going in the blind about him as much as everybody else does when they get matched. You didn’t need to put more pressure on yourself than you already have. You had started to worry about how he took it when he found out that a girl that works as a bartender and barely made enough money to pay her bills was his soulmate. He must have been so embarrassed. Maybe that why Mrs. Kim and a whole fucking security team were on their way to you at this very moment. Maybe their job was to hide you from the media because Jimin didn’t want anyone to find out about his poor and unsuccessful soulmate. 

Okay... relax (y/n), no need to make yourself hate the guy before you had even been introduced to him. Just take a chill pill. 

When the clock hit ten you heard a knock on your door. A woman, probably in her early thirties was looking at you through your glass door as you walked down the stairs. She had to be Mrs.Kim. Four men all dressed in black was standing on both sides behind her.

When you opened the door, it took approximately five seconds before the lady and all the men had taken off their shoes and made their way into your house. Two of the men dragged your curtains over the glass doors before they turned around with their back to the doors. Then they bowed and said something in a language you didn’t understand. 

You didn’t say anything back nor did you bow back. Why did they bow? That’s so weird. Where you suppose to bow back, or would they think you look like a desperate foreigner trying to fit into the group. You figured a smile would be the best thing to do. You tried to give them the friendliest smile you were able to pull off, to try to make a good first impression. You didn’t want them to think of you as rude.

When you turned around to face the rest of the strangers, one of the men was on his way up the stairs. The woman and the last man of the four were just standing in the middle of your living room. They had smiled as soon as you had turned toward them. They bowed to, but the woman not as low as the man. 

“Hello (y/n), it’s so good to see you in person instead of just talking over the phone. We apologize for rushing in so fast, we didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yeah well too late for that Mrs.Kim. You shouldn’t have closed the curtains if you wanted me to relax. Now it just looks like you have a mafia boss on a visit with a plan to torture and kill you. You were almost afraid that one of your neighbors would call the cops on them. 

“Ah.. yeah.. umm...hi... I am (y/n), but you probably already know that. I mean you wouldn’t barge in here if you didn’t know who I was” 

Mrs.Kim laughs. She had a beautiful smile. Pearl white teeth and a little dimple, only on her left side though. Her eyes almost disappeared completely when she laughed, you could only see a little gap in her eyes where beautiful dark irises poked through. She had to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. If you hadn’t just gotten your soulmate letter you would consider going lesbian for that masterpiece of a human being. 

“No, we certainly wouldn’t. We have all just been a little on edge since we left Korea. Seeing that all your curtains were left completely open for all your neighbors to see just made us a little nervous. It is our job to keep your privacy private from now on after all. And I can promise you that I take my job very seriously as you probably will notice in the next couple of days. I will do my absolute best to protect you (y/n).”

She bowed again, this time a little lower than the first. Then she walked a little closer to you.

“Ah.. so, me and my team haven’t introduced our self’s properly jet. I can start with myself. As you already know I am Mrs.Kim. I have worked for BigHit for almost six years now. I started working as a secretary for a lot of the high profiled people in our company until I got switched over to the security department two years ago. My job for the last two years has been to plan for the arrival of the soulmates of our idols. Now I have been given the position as head of security for you (y/n). I truly look forward to working with you.” 

She shakes my hand and smiles again. Then she turned to look at all the men around your house.

“And some of these men are going to be your personal security guards. Not all of them though, we just brought a little extra to ensure that everything runs smoothly for your journey to Seoul. The next couple of weeks is really going to determine who is gonna stay with you permanently. We will see who you get the most comfortable with and them pic two out of that. We also made sure that all of the security personnel assigned to you are capable of speaking English fluently so that we don’t get any problems related to communication.” 

Wait... If they are all fluent in English, why the hell did they speak another language to you just a couple of minutes ago then? 

“We have Junseo, Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun. All of them have worked with the company for more than five years. Junseo is actually one of Jimins guards. He has worked with bts since the beginning. Jimin trust him more than any other guard working for us, so he specifically asked for him to join us on our travel to make sure that you were taken extra good care of.”

 They had all smiled when Mrs.Kim said their name and said cute little Hello’s and hi’s in return. Junseo’s ears and cheeks got all red when Mrs.Kim had talked so well about him. You could already tell that he was too pure for this world, how is this blushing mess a security guard? You just couldn’t wrap your head around that. You just wanted to give him a hug and tell him how adorable he is. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that though. He is a grown man after all. You did hope that you two could become friends in the future though. Maybe you could take him out for ice cream someday. He seems like a guy that would like stuff like that.

Mrs. Kim said a couple of words in what you assumed was Korean before all of them except Junseo went outside again. She sounded so French when she talked English, but looked and talked Korean. You were confused. Maybe you were just absolutely horrible at telling apart accents.You were all just standing there so you asked them both to take a seat on your couch to get a more comfortable atmosphere. They happily obliged, you took a seat in the beanbag tucked in the corner of the room. It was silent for what felt like five seconds before Mrs.Kim opened her mouth again. 

“I actually really need you to take a look at these documents with me (y/n). The CEOs of BigHit have required me to present this to you before our travel tomorrow. It is documents regarding your future in the company. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice of being a part of the company or not. Not only because of Jimin’s contract with BigHit but also his line of work. But they have tried to make it as fair as possible for you with this contact.” 

The previous big smile that decorated Mrs.Kim’s face had become smaller as she kept talking. You had already tried to prepare for worst-case scenarios, so keeping calm wasn’t as hard as you had first thought. It made sense to. Everybody knows that if you get matched with a famous person that you are basically bound to both them and their work for the rest of your life. You felt bad for the ones that had found at who they were only to have it all be ripped away to become a personal healing bag for their famous soulmate. 

You were also kind of happy though. Everyone in your life seems to know exactly who they are. What work they wanna do, their personality, what their style is, and what their dreams and goals are. You honestly didn’t know anything about yourself. You still haven’t found out who you are or what you want to do with your life. That was a good thing now though. Because if you don’t have anything to lose then people can’t take anything from you. 

But why did they ask for Mrs.Kim to show me the contract now? Why couldn’t we just do that after arriving in Korea? 

“He has requested you to show them to me now? Why can’t it wait until we have arrived in Seoul?” 

Mrs.Kim nodded before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands. 

“Well, even though they know that you wouldn’t run off to another entertainment company and ask for a job. They just need to make sure. Have it in black on white you know. It also is to make you more relaxed. In the contact that they wish for you to sign is a promise from them as a company. They want you to know that they are going to protect both you and your loved ones from the media and the fans. It is also a promise from them that they are going to give you work if you wish to and pay you even if you decide not to. For them, the most important thing is to know that regardless of where Jimin is or what he is doing, that you are going to be right beside him. They know that an idol can’t work without his or her soulmate after the bond as started. They need you to be around so that Jimin can keep working.”

“And in return, I give them what? All of what you just said sounds too good to be true.” You said. Your voice confused.

“In return” she continues. “In return, you give us your absolute loyalty. It really isn’t anything more than that. This isn’t a contact meant to screw you over (y/n). We know how bad it can all end if an idol doesn’t have their soulmate around twenty-four seven” 

Junseo had made his way to your kitchen, probably to give the two of you some privacy to discuss this. It had to be a little uncomfortable just sitting there and watching this conversation progress. You saw him looking at the pictures hanging on your refrigerator. You had filled the whole surface of the refrigerator with photos from back home, and your trips to different parts of the world. The voice of Mrs.Kim brought you back to the conversation.

“You see (y/n), it has been a few thousand cases in South Korea with Idols not having their soulmates around them enough. And everybody knows how wrong things can go with too little physical contact. Both idol and their soulmate would get very sick and in the worst cases die. The things that are different between other companies and ours is that we are willing to use a lot of money, time, and resources on our idol’s soulmate. Because we care and we know that it is what we must do to keep our idols healthy and happy. We have seen how much we can get back from it too. Let’s say that you are happy spending time with us in this company. That can result in you being willing to show up for events and interviews. It can make you want to work with us too, maybe within music or dance, or maybe things like doing modeling jobs. It can also mean that you may be willing to do social media stuff, it is a huge market in that now. But you are never going to want to have anything to do with us if we don’t treat you like family”

 She raised her shoulders a little, sitting more back on the couch. “However way you twist and turn around on this (y/n), you are good for the company. When this goes out into the public in just a few hours, things are going to blow up. Everyone is going to be talking about it. This is something that not only Jimin, his family, band members, and us in the company have been waiting for, but also the fans. It must be close to a gazillion hours of videos of Jimin on the Internet. A lot of those videos are him talking about you. His soulmate that he so desperately wants to find. The fans are going to be so excited for him when the news is out. So the PR is going to be amazing for the company.”

“That’s why BigHit doesn’t want much from you. The only thing that contract is requiring from you is that you don’t work for anyone else. That whatever work you want to do is going to be under BigHit, and that BigHit has the rights on whatever public works you do. It isn’t bad right?”

You nodded your head trying to digest the information. It didn’t sound bad at all. You had read so many horror stories about famous people’s soulmate being abused or taken advanced off by their soulmates company. It didn’t sound like the company that your soulmate works for did things that way. You should be happy and grateful for that you thought.

“Okay, I will sign it.” 

The next morning was the most chaotic morning you had ever experienced. 

Well not for you really. You had just been sitting at the floor with Mrs.Kim for the last hour drinking coffee and watching the moving people packing away all your stuff. But it was tiring to watch. And a little bit uncomfortable to not be helping. You had asked but all the men would just give you a smile and then bow before continuing on.You had taken that as a thank you, but no thank you. 

Everything was gone in under two hours. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, but they packed everything so neatly. It was almost painful to watch them fold every clothing item you owned perfectly before packing it away. You thought your closet was quite organized but not enough for them apparently. 

Mrs.Kim has told you that they were not Korean but Japanese. And also, that the same moving company had helped them every time the group that Jimin was a part of, had moved. They were supposedly the best of the best.

It was really quite in the streets, mostly because the clock only was eight in the morning. Most of the tourists are still asleep. So the moving crew had been able to pack everything up and leave without anyone noticing.Mrs. Kim told you that it would be best to pack up everything when there are fewer people around. The fewer the people the less attention.

The news of you and Jimin had dropped yesterday. And even though Mrs.Kim wouldn’t tell you anything, you could tell that it has become big news. She had talked on the phone for hours with someone you assumed was working for the company as well. She had talked in a low and stressful voice and even though you didn’t understand a word Korean, you knew that that conversation was something she didn’t want you to understand.

So she hasn’t told you anything though. You had tried to ask her about it but she would only answer that it was nothing for me to worry about and that it is being handled. 

You did worry though, but she didn’t give you much time to. Because as soon as the moving truck had left you were lead out to the cars as well. You would be leaving in two different cars. You, Mrs.Kim, and Junseo were leaving in one car while Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun would leave in another. 

You and Mrs.Kim have taken the back seats as Junseo would drive. The car was filled to the brim with tension. As both you and Mrs.Kim refuse to make any eye contact. You could tell she was nervous, and it made you uneasy as well. The only comfort you got was from Junseo through the rear-view mirror as he would give you small smiles and winks whenever you would catch his gaze. 

The last days had gone by so fast. You were just happy that you had gotten the time to give everyone that was important to you on that island a goodbye in person before you left. Even though you wished you had more time with everyone you knew that if you had asked for more you would have given Mrs.Kim a heart attack. And you weren’t that keen on having to explain to the company that you had killed one of their employees. You don’t think they would be so nice to you anymore if you had.

When you were getting close to the airport you noticed Mrs.Kim straighten up. She looked more alert as she eyed the people around the airport. Then after we stopped right outside the terminal one door she let out a breath and started to look more relaxed again. She turned to Junseo and told him something in Korean with a smile. 

What suddenly made them so happy?

The door on your side suddenly opened, making you flinch before turning around to face a smirking Yucheon. You blush a little as he started to giggle of your reaction. 

“You can come out now, me and Junseo will take you to the first-class lounge so you can eat something before our plane leaves” 

Oh, so he does talk English, just with an adorable accent. 

“I am really hungry too, so you don’t have to worry about eating alone” He gave you a reassuring smile. It reached his eyes and gave him cute eye wrinkles. 

You smiled back before making a mental note of Yucheon being a potential candidate for being your future lunch buddy when your soulmate decided to ditch you.

 “Ah. Thank you, I would hate to eat alone. That’s really depressing” 

He giggled a little more before making more space for you to crawl out of the car. Junseo jumped out of the car only a second after you. Then the three of you made your way into the busy airport. Mrs.Kim hadn’t followed you and neither had Hyun. You didn’t want to ask about it, it was okay for you to not know the reason behind everything. You knew it would only make you more anxious. And you didn’t want to loos your cool when you had made it this far.

The first-class lounge was mostly empty except the few people that worked in the buffet and an old couple sitting in the corner. Yucheon had informed you that the plane didn’t leave before twelve o’clock, so the three of you had almost two hours to eat our way through the buffet.

You had gotten to know both of them a little better at that time. Yucheon was twenty-eight years old and loved food, animals, tv-dramas, and long walks by a famous river that was in Seoul. Junseo was thirty years old and loved to read, travel, play video games, and go to the gym. You liked both of them a lot and found yourself wondering if it would be possible to steal Junseo from Jimin. 

You had asked them both if they would like to join you for ice cream and a walk along the river that Yucheon talked about, both of them said they would love to but that we would have to wait until the news of you and Jimin had died down. 

Yucheon had been shocked when you confessed to not really knowing anything about Jimin. He had been even more shocked when you told him that you haven’t even searched his name on google jet. He, of course, had thought that you were at least a little curious about him. And you are, but you are also really afraid to freak yourself out before you had even met the guy. 

Naturally Yucheon and Junseo we’re both eager to tell you everything they knew, even though you interested on that they don’t. 

“You know” started Junseo.

“He really has been putting a lot of effort to make everything perfect before you come. Not just after he got the letter, but for as long as I have worked for BigHit” 

He stopped eating and laid down his fork before he leaned more back into the couch. 

“He talked about you daily, even before knowing your name. He would always say stuff like ‘I can’t wait to show her this’ or is bet she would love to see this’. It was always about you. Everything he does he does for you. I remember having to wake him up one time. He had fallen asleep in the car on the way to rehearsal. He was crying in his sleep, and when I woke him up he said ‘why does TISO use so much time to find her?’ And ‘I have paid them so much to make it go faster because I need her now. Why can’t they just find her now? I need her now.”

He picked up his fork again and took a big bite of the pasta dish he was eating.

“You know, he really is a good guy. But he has a big heart that breaks easily. So be nice to him, please. He really is trying his best. So don’t be mad at him for not knowing enough English to express himself or communicating with you properly. Just tell him it’s okay, and that you will learn together. Because I can’t handle to see him heartbroken, especially after longing for you for such a long time” 

Junseo seemed to really love Jimin. He wouldn’t have told me this if he didn’t. 

You just nodded and told him you that he didn’t have to worry. Your first language wasn’t English ether so you know that learning a new language could be hard. You wouldn’t judge someone because of it. 

By that time Mrs.Kim had called them and informed us that we could board the plane soon. You had made your way through the terminal and before you even knew you were sitting in first class on a plane ready to leave for the other side of the world.

You had never flown for more than six hours, so you were starting to feel more and more thankful for the first class tickets the longer you were in the air.

You didn’t think you would have survived in the air for so long if you had to sit in the economy.

They had served food three times throughout the flight. All of the food served were multiple courses and were served with wine. When you were not eating you enjoyed the movie collection on board. Mrs.Kim had been on a Skype call with a man you didn’t know, for a couple of hours of the flight before falling asleep. The rest of the guys seemed to be sleeping for most of the flight too. Maybe it would have been smart of you to sleep too, but you were way to nervous about landing in Seoul to fall asleep.

The thought of the cameras that would be waiting to catch a glimpse of you at the airport was all you were capable of thinking about. You were thinking about how your life would be from now on, all the media and pressure didn’t match your ideal lifestyle. You were starting to question TISO’s discovery on you and Jimin as soulmates. Maybe they did a mistake or only matched you and Jimin together because they got paid a lot by him or his company and didn’t find his soulmate fast enough.

It didn’t seem right to you.

You've dreamed of having at least five or six more years alone before being matched with a guy living a quiet and boring life. You liked quiet and boring. It made you feel safe. Your mental health wasn’t stable enough to live the life Jimin was living. You prefer to not be the center of attention and would much rather be in the corner of the room than being the one that dances in the middle.

Your thoughts were stopped by the pilot's announcement over the speakers.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Seoul. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and make sure all your belongings are secured. Also, make sure your seat back is straight up and your seatbelt is fastened. The flight attendants will make one more round to pick up any unwanted items left. Thank you”

You looked over to Mrs.Kim. She was already looking at you. A lazy smile decorated her face. She looked so cute when she was sleepy, you wonder who was blessed with waking up to her every day.

“Are you ready (y/n)?”

You nodded. You kinda just had to be ready, because there was no way they pilots would just fly a couple of extra rounds just so you could have a little more time, now was it?

“There is no need to be nervous. I have already talked to some of our staff on the ground. They have everything under control.”

You already know that they would. The only problem is that they actually need to keep things under control. That only means it’s people waiting for you on the ground.

“(Y/n)”

You nodded and tried to give a small smile as reassurance. She didn’t need to know how much you were dying on the inside right now.

“I need you to remember to stay close to Junseo when we land. Your baggage is going to be delivered directly to the car. All you need to do is to keep your head low and your focus on Junseo. You are going to be wearing a mask and a hoodie so that the paparazzi can’t get a clear shot of you”

You almost jumped from your seat when the plain suddenly hit the ground, only the seatbelt prevented you from it.

You had missed your favorite part of any flight. To watch out the window on the city that you were gonna stay in. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time you were gonna land in Seoul, so you would just have to pay more attention next time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we in emirates welcomes you to Seoul. The local time is six in the morning and the temperature is currently eighteen degrees Celsius. For your safety and for those around you, please remain seated until the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign is turned off. Thank you”

The next minutes passed almost too quickly. All of you were all packed up and on your way out of the plane in what felt like only a minute.

Mrs.Kim had given you a big pink hoodie with ‘BTS’ written on the front and a black mask. Junseo was walking in front and had his arm stretched out for you. You quickly accepted and gripped his hand hard. You swear you had seen Junseo flinch from the power of your tight hold on him.

You had walked through security control and passport control completely alone. Big Hit had to have something to do with the luxury treatment you thought.

They hadn’t asked many questions after receiving your passport and confirmation from TISO on your soulmate. They had stamped your passport and told you something in Korean before giving you a smile followed by a bow.

And then you were on your way towards a door to what you assumed was the main terminal of the airport. But nobody from your travel group told you anything. Junseo only offered his hand to you again as Mrs.Kim dragged the hood of the hoodie over your head and made sure the mask was sitting right.

“Keep your head down and don’t freeze. We have to move fast (y/n).”

“I understand” was the only thing you could think of saying. You just had to trust these people that you had only known for three days to keep you safe.

No problem.

As you got closer to the metal door you started to hear the noise from the other side. As soon as Yucheon opened the door the people on the other side exploded in screams.

You had loosened your hold on Junseo hand and tried to take a step back. But he had only fastened his hold on you and given you a thigh squeeze. Mrs.Kim placed her hand on your back before shoving you out the door.

The flashlights were blinding. You tried your hardest to keep your focus on Junseo’s moving feet and on Mrs.Kim’s hand that had made its way around your waist.

You lifted your gaze slightly. But not enough to look over Junseo’s big shoulders. You did, however, get a glimpse of the barricade that was blocking you from them. It hanged a lot of signs on it. Papers in all of the rainbow's colors with colorful writing on them.

“Welcome to Korea (y/n),” one said.

“Army supports you,” another one said.

Why the hell would the Korean army support me?

“Please tell Jimin to eat at” the rest was written in Korean. You assumed it was a restaurant or cafe.

You almost tripped when Junseo slowed down. A big revolving door was the reason for his now slower pace. But as soon as you had made your way through, you were quickly shown into a black van.

You felt as though you were finally able to breathe properly again.

Outside the airport young girls and boys were gathered. You could hear them even though the car doors were closed.

They were singing.

There was already a person ready in the driver's seat. Mrs. Kim had taken the front seat and Junseo had walked around the car to sit at your left side in the back.

You had no idea where Seurong, Yucheon, or Hyun was. But you could imagine them being in some of the surrounding vehicles.

The driver that you didn't know the name of, told Mrs. Kim something with a smile before starting to drive. The singing from the people outside the airport soon disappeared. You were left with only the motor of the car as noise. You pay close attention to everything passing by. This was the city you were most likely going to live in for all of the remaining years of your life. So you tried your best to remember buildings that looked exiting or places that you would like to later explore.

It was exciting, you couldn't lie. Seoul was truly a stunning city. It was extraordinary to see such a beautiful contrast between the old and the new buildings. You could almost feel the culture in the air as you got deeper and deeper into the city.

An extremely tall building caught your eye.

”What is that?” you asked. Everybody else that was in the car flinched. You had tried not to make your voice loud, but the car was just too quiet. Any noise that would occur would certainly scare anyone.

”what? Where?” Junseo was leaning over you to watch out your side of the car. His eyes frantically searching for whatever had caught your attention.

”that!” you tried to point your index finger as precisely a possible. Letting your finger push hard against the glass window and closing your left eye. Junseo tried to follow your finger to what it was pointing towards.

”ahh, that is lotte tower, I can take you there sometime. They have a nice bar in one of the top floors with an amazing view of Seoul” He had started at the building as he was talking to you. Your finger only left the window after he was done explaining about the tower.

The drive through the city went slow. The traffic wasn't bad, but it felt like they had a stoplight at every corner in the whole city center. But it could also be because of the awkward tension between everyone in the car. They all know that when you arrive, they are going to be the witnesses to you and Jimins first meeting.

No pressure right?

You were really nervous though. And it was uncomfortable to think about people watching your first meeting with Jimin. You found yourself wondering if that's how it's always gonna be with Jimin. He was famous after all. You had just hoped that you would have this moment for yourself.

You were starting to see that you were arriving on the rich side of town. Every building, flower, bench, and even the crosswalk looked expensive. You didn't belong here.

You suddenly stopped at a security gate. A huge fence blocking the car from continuing on driving. One of the two men guarding the gate came up to the driver's window. The other man was walking around the car and looking at me and Junseo. Mrs. Kim has just leaned over the driver to hand some papers to the security guard, not really seeming nervous about the men. They had talked only a couple of sentences each before Mrs.Kim turned around to look at me.

”This is as far as we are allowed to take you today, (y/n). These kind men will walk you up this hill to Jimins apartment. You can just walk straight in, the door is unlocked.”

You weren't ready. But then again you probably never would.

”okay, thanks guys. For the drive and all that.” you said looking down at your hands that we're lying comfortably on your lap.

”hey.” Junseo took your left hand and squeezed tightly. Then he gave you a piece of paper with his name and number on it.

”you know we are all just a phone call away if you need us. But I doubt you will. I know Jimin is gonna keep you busy. He has basically planned for this for his whole life. You are going to be eating good food, see beautiful places, have lots of fun, and meet everyone important to him. I promise you are gonna have the best time of your life, I am honestly a little afraid you might forget me after a few weeks with him.

You laughed. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was from nerves, happiness, or sadness. It almost felt like a mix of them all.

”thank you. I really appreciate you Junseo. Don't be mad though, when I start calling you about ice cream and that walk we talked about. I can be a bit annoying if things don't happen fast enough for me.”

You could see Mrs. Kim smile in the corner of your eyes.

«I like annoying.” was all Junseo said before you stepped out of the car. Only carrying your hand luggage, you had no idea when the rest would arrive.

The tall building he lived in was intimidating. It seems to reach beyond the clouds. Not the best place for one with a fear of heights, especially when he lives on the top two floors. You though the guard that followed you to the building was joking with you when he gave you a keycard to the elevator and told you to press floor number fifty-two.

The guard had let out a laugh at your reaction but did little to help you other than giving you a kind smile and a point with his index finger to the elevator.

He obviously didn't speak a word English, but you still found him cute with all his hand gestures and his broken English.

”Okay, okay, I am going don't worry. You can go down to your friend again. I just need a minute to try to calm myself before going into that death trap.”

He only let out another laugh but didn't move an inch.

Great.

You give the poor guy a smile before turning around and going into the elevator, pressing the fifty-second floor, and scanning your new keycard. You turned with your back to the door and faced the mirror that was covered the whole wall. Your make-up is completely ruined by your long journey and you find yourself regretting not using the time from the airport to jimins house to try to look at least a little more presentable.

You had decided to wear a navy blue jumpsuit. It was pretty and you slightly prayed that it would be enough to distract him from your face.

”hello.”

You haven't even noticed the elevator door opening, but as you lifted your gaze you saw his eyes on you through the mirror. He was standing in the hallway without shoes on.

He looked like an angel. Wearing all white and many accessories. The clothes he was wearing was baggy but made with a thin fabric, so thin that you could see the outline of the tattoo on his ribcage. His rings we're all gold-colored with different colored gemstones. His outfit was planned but relaxed.

Dark but gentle eyes started intensely on you. They held the stars. He had tears threatening to fall in the corners on both eyes, but you only saw it becomes the light hit his face perfectly, making his eyes shine.

He was biting the corner of his lip, as he was slightly swaying back and forth, shifting between one foot and the other.

Then you realized.

He was just as nervous as you.

”hi.”

#jimin x reader #jimin #bts soulmate au #bts soulmate #park jimin #soulmate #soulmate!jimin #bts idol!au #jimin idol!au #chimchim #bts senarios #jimin fluff #jimin imagine #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #love series chapter 2 #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts imagine

[pressedinthepages]

Love

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Ciri & Eskel (Platonic/Familial), Geralt/Eskel, Lambert/Aiden

Rating: T

Masterlist

a/n: No request this time, just wanted to write something soft.

thanks to @sometimesiwrite​ for being a great beta/idea machine/friend :)

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, softer than a freshly washed puppy, ~yearning~

Ciri asks about love.

    “Hey, Uncle Eskel?”

    Ciri’s voice, smooth and level with her age, rings over the ramparts from which Eskel currently hangs. Vesemir has given them all a chore for the afternoon, and Eskel is finishing closing a gaping maw in the structure of the inner wall of the keep. He is just barely perched on a scaffold, reaching to place the last stone in a spot that’s *just* outside of his reach. 

    Eskel turns to look down at Ciri, her ashen hair shining bright in the waning sun. He huffs as the breeze catches his dark hair and flops it down into his eyes. Ciri giggles, a sweet sound that she has yet to grow out of. Gods, I hope she never does, Eskel thinks.

    “Yes, Swallow?” Eskel is pretty proud that of all the dumb things Lambert and Geralt tried to nickname Ciri, his was the one that stuck. 

    Ciri crosses her arms over her chest, looking all the world like Geralt whenever he has his mind set on something that is almost certainly an inconvenience for Eskel. “After supper, I would appreciate your insight on some personal matters.” Ciri winks, her proper tone eclipsed by a chuckle just under her breath. 

    Eskel grins a bit, thinking back on their previous discussions. She’s grown up quite a bit, still on the earlier side of twenty, but her mind is sharp as a blade, and her tongue even sharper. “Of course, it would be an honor.” Eskel bows where he hangs, making his position even more precarious. He hears the quick intake of breath from Ciri and sits back up, smiling wide even as his scar pulls at his lip.

    “Don’t worry, little one,” Eskel says, switching the stone to his other hand before leaning back to the hole. “You’ll not get rid of me that easily.”

    Shortly after, Eskel and Ciri get to the supper table just as Lambert is serving. He’s on cooking duty all week, which works out well for everyone. He’s got the most agreeable palette, and he uses it well. However, next in the rotation is Geralt. He has the most sensitive nose out of all of them so he doesn’t season, and can’t cook a bird for shit. Eskel plans on appreciating his younger brother’s cooking as much as he can before the next week of bland meat and undercooked bread. 

    “Eat up, fuckers.” Lambert sets a large dish on the table, a hearty roast full of venison and root vegetables that had been stored away before the frost set in. A layer of lightly spiced shortcrust covers the top, and is served alongside tankards of ale and a hunk of dark bread. 

    “Smells delicious, Lambert,” Ciri calls after his retreating form. Eskel sees how the tips of his ears blush as he pours some of his “vodka” (which is really just shitty leftover potion water) into his tankard, but Eskel only smiles down into his plate. Vesemir joins them too, and the four of them tuck into the generous offering.

    Their peace is short-lived though, cut off by the abrupt clang of the great doors flying open. Geralt stomps into the common area where they all sit, and Eskel wrinkles his nose. Geralt is soaked head to toe, and he smells like a mix between a decaying fish and a little bit of vomit after too much spicy food. 

    Lambert clearly picks up on it too, offering Geralt a sip of his drink. “Drowner duty?”

    Geralt grunts as he sits across from Ciri, bumping Eskel’s shoulder as he helps himself to the dinner. Geralt moans a bit as he takes the first bite, and Eskel shudders at the sound. He’s always been weak for Geralt’s voice, especially with how rarely he actually uses it. 

    They eat quickly now, forced to scarf it down in an effort to escape the devastating scent that Geralt brought to the table.  Eskel drains the last of his ale and grabs an apple, slicing it in half and handing some to Ciri. She whips out her own dagger and cuts away the core before portioning it neatly into several smaller mouthfuls. 

    Geralt sighs before pushing himself to stand, a whole new waft of nauseating aroma settling with the sudden movement. “I’m going to wash.”

    “Thank Melitele’s sweet tits, I thought you were just gonna make that part of your ~look~ now, pretty boy.” Lambert leans back with his boots kicked up on the table, carving a crude drawing into a pear from the table. Geralt walks quietly away from the table before turning abruptly and swinging his leg wide, catching Lambert’s chair and yanking it out from under him. He flails wildly before his ass hits the ground and he turns to grab at Geralt’s ankle. But he has already torn off towards the baths, and Lambert huffs before scrabbling to his feet and chasing after him, his pear long forgotten.

    Vesemir sighs in the now much quieter room, also standing and picking up his plate. “Well done on that wall today Eskel. Looks much better.”

    “Thanks, wasn’t anything too difficult.”

    “Maybe so, but I still appreciate it.” Eskel smiles as Vesemir walks away, letting himself revel in the praise for a moment. 

    Ciri clears her throat, bringing Eskel back to the matter at hand. “Library?” She asks, and Eskel nods. He takes Ciri’s plate and sets them into the washbasin for a later time. They trek up the stairs and push open the heavy wooden door. Eskel lights the fire with a flick of his fingers and the room instantly warms, the air light and swirling around them. 

    Eskel watches as Ciri plops down onto the dense fur in front of the fire, warming her hands as the orange light dances over her face. He walks over to his trusty copy of the Beastiary, only to pick it up and find it much lighter than he would expect. He opens it, and instead of his glass bottle of White Gull, there is a note in the hollowed-out hole. 

    ‘Maybe pick a less obvious hiding place, douche-canoe.’

    The handwriting is scrappy and small, just like the younger witcher that wrote it. Eskel sighs before turning to another bookcase, finding a heavy tome that Jaskier had left for him a few years prior. He flips this one open and finds two small flasks of Toussaint wine, which is certainly better than nothing. 

    Eskel walks silently over to Ciri and hands her one of the glasses before sprawling out beside her. They sit in silence for a while, as has become tradition while Ciri gathers her thoughts. They both sip at the wine, and Eskel needs to remember to write a letter to Jaskier at Oxenfurt for saving his ass tonight. 

    “I have to warn you Eskel,” Ciri murmurs, and Eskel looks over to her with a crook of his brow. “This isn’t going to be an easy one.”

    Eskel hums, taking another sip of wine. “Never is, kid.”

    Ciri takes in a deep breath, steeling herself with a long chug of the alcohol in her grasp. “How do you know if you’re in love with someone?”

    Eskel’s eyes widen imperceptibly, and he can feel how his heart skips a beat. “Damn Ciri,” he chuckles, “you weren’t kidding when you said this wouldn’t be easy.”

    Ciri only shrugs with a smirk. Eskel shifts a bit, partially to get himself more comfortable, and partially to give himself more time to think. He can only wiggle around for so long before it gets weird for everyone though, so he just ends up tucking his legs underneath him and taking another long drink of wine. 

    “Well, I-”

    “Have you ever been in love, Eskel?” Ciri turns to him, her bright gaze shocking on even the best days. Now they bore straight through Eskel, and he feels like she is peeling away the layers of mortar he has so carefully laid around his heart for the past, oh, century or so. Eskel thinks back, trying to remember the moment that he knew what love was. 

    And then he tries to figure out how to tell Ciri that he knows what love is like because of her father. Geralt showed him what it was like to feel out of breath whenever they were more than a hairs’ breadth apart. And then the all-encompassing relief that sang through his bones whenever they reunited. They showed each other how to accept this part of their lives that had been so desperately ignored, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

    But that’s a lot. Geralt is terrible with words and feelings, and Eskel is not much better. Ciri looks at him expectantly, with all of the air of royalty running low on patience. Ciri is eternally patient though, especially with all of the practice she has had with Geralt. 

    Eskel is just about to open his mouth when he hears stomping down the hallway, and he waits until Lambert pushes open the old door with enough force to send the snow into an avalanche over the mountains. He, now, is soaking wet, though instead of drowner guts he only smells of the clean mineral water that flows into the springs beneath the keep. Eskel smirks up at him as he traipses over to where the two of them sit, dropping himself unceremoniously into one of the soft chairs that rests not far from the fire. “Geralt throw you in?”

    Lambert hums in the affirmative, seemingly harboring no further ill-will towards him. “What are you two chucklefucks talking about?”

    Ciri pipes up, seemingly (for whatever reason) interested in Lambert’s opinion. “I asked Eskel what it feels like to be in love.”

    Lambert’s face looks as though he was just violently slapped with a fish, glancing over to Eskel who only offers a shrug in return. Eskel is expecting a long-winded rant about how ‘Witchers don’t love, it makes you soft, and a soft Witcher is a dead Witcher…’ blah blah blah, but that’s not what he gets. Instead, Lambert kind of sinks further into his seat and his eyes turn tender, and Eskel realizes that he’s getting a glimpse into the Lambert that the world so rarely sees.

    “Wanna know what I think about love, little beetle butt?”

    Ciri nods, turning more fully towards Lambert. Eskel does the same, curious to see what his youngest brother has to say. Eskel holds out his half-empty flask, handing it to Lambert in a silent offer of support. Lambert drains the remainder of the wine in one gulp, the bastard, before he smiles a bit as he loses himself in his thoughts. 

    “I think that love is-” Lambert sighs, searching for the right words, “love is indescribable. You don’t know what it is until you have it, and then you never want to let it go.” 

    Eskel nods at Lambert’s words, letting them resonate in his mind. He never quite feels right anymore without Geralt at his side, his body and soul yearning for their other half in a way that cannot be depicted with mere words. 

    “Ciri, I haven’t got a clue about whatever you’ve got going on,” Lambert wags his finger in the air, and Eskel can see just how influenced the youngest of them was by Vesemir. “But life, especially human life, is too short to dwell on shit that will fester and bubble under your skin if you don’t let it out.”

    “But how do I know?” Ciri whispers, and Eskel’s heart breaks for her. Gods, he has spent decades asking himself that exact same question, and he still doesn’t really have an answer.

    “You’ll know when it’s not a question anymore.” Lambert stares off into the fire, watching the flames lick up into the air, chasing the wayward embers into the dark of the ceiling. Eskel is kind of stuck, Lambert’s words ringing through his head. When it’s not a question anymore. Fuck, when did the little prick actually get smart?

    Ciri rolls over, pressing a gentle kiss to Eskel’s cheek, right over the angriest of his scars. “Thank you, Uncle Eskel. And you, Uncle Lambert,” she gives him a kiss on the cheek as well, and leaves them alone to their thoughts. 

    Eskel looks over at Lambert, seeing in bright relief the decades that have worn this man raw, and wonders just how he can still have room for love in his heart. “Who is it?”

    Lambert sighs, hanging his head a bit. “I met him on the Path. We’ve been...traveling together now for a couple of years. He’s uh-he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

    Eskel smiles wide once more, scooching closer to where Lambert sits. “I’m happy for you, Wolf. Why haven’t you told us?”

    “He’s another Witcher, and a Cat no less.” Eskel blinks at this, but the way that Lambert looks at him, vulnerable and exposed, shuts up any errant thoughts he may have had. “Besides, like you have room to talk. You’ve been pining after Geralt for how long? A century? Two?”

    Eskel throws his shoe at Lambert, catching him on the shoulder. Fuck, I need to work on my aim. “Shut up. I’m working on it.”

    Lambert scoffs as he stands up, chucking Eskel’s boot back over his shoulder. “Right, well. Once you figure it out, let me know. By that point, I’ll be retired on the coast with a whorehouse next door. You’ll know where to find me.”

    Lambert is almost to the door when Eskel’s arms wrap around him, strong enough to bruise a rib if he wasn’t a Witcher. “Shit, Eskel! Let go of me, you great oaf!”

    Eskel gives one last squeeze before he relents, grabbing Lambert by the arm before he can take off running. “Thank you, Lambert, and I promise. I won’t tell anyone before you’re ready.”

    Lambert glances down to the ground with a great breath in, his golden eyes catching Eskel’s when they return. “Thanks, brother.”

    “Of course, Wolf.”

#uncle!eskel #eskel & ciri #gereskel #aiden x lambert #the pining is real with this one

[douchebagbrainwaves]

AND YOU KNOW WHO GOT THEM

Smaller companies were increasingly able to survive as formerly narrow channels to consumers broadened. They seem to like us too.1 That gets you James Bond, who knows what to do in situations where few others could. What about the more theoretical question of whether hockey would be a bad sign if they weren't; it would be false. And partly a larger part than he would admit that he doesn't want to see.2 The problem is, a lot of the problems change. On the other hand, history is even fuller of examples of parents who thought their kids were wasting their time and who were right. Why didn't Henry Ford realize that networks of cooperating companies work better than a single big company? If you want to slow down, your instinct is to lean back.3

Meetings are like an opiate with a network effect. My guess is that a lot of instincts, this one wasn't designed for fun, and mostly it wasn't. It turns out I have a lot of time on bullshit things or lose to people who do. I get nothing done, because I'm doing stuff that seems, superficially, like real work. In most fields, prototypes have traditionally been made out of different materials. Now a lot of something. The one example I've found is, embarrassingly enough, Yahoo, Google, and Facebook all got started. Nor did they work for big companies not even to try to solve problems and simply not discount weird hunches you have in the process. If you want to prepare yourself to start a startup, the thought of our startups keeps me up at night. A physicist friend recently told me half his department was on Prozac. As with gangs, we have some idea what your prospects might be if you tried to keep someone in as protected an environment as a newborn till age 18.4

Aggregators show how much better you can do to help: Avoid distractions. In short, the disasters this summer were just the usual childhood diseases. And it does seem as if Google was a collaboration. The reason this struck me so forcibly is that for most of what happened in finance too. Buildings to be constructed from stone were tested on a smaller scale in wood. One might worry this would prevent people from expressing controversial ideas, but a leading indicator.5 To some extent this was because the companies themselves had become sclerotic.6 How can you tell if you're up to it, the only way to get an accurate drawing is not to spend it having fun, you know you're being self-indulgent. Advising people and writing are fundamentally different types of problems—wisdom to human problems and intelligence to abstract ones. In fact, we were surprised how much time I spent making introductions. What a solitary task startups are.

Apple are doing so much better than Microsoft today. It will take more experience to know for sure, but my guess is that a lot of time on them have to be learned, and are sometimes fairly counterintuitive. Having coffee with a friend matters. Notice I said what they need, not what they want. Palm and RIM haven't a hope. You can see it in old photos. They want to get rich. As one of the things startups do right without realizing it.

Developments in finance, communications, transportation, and manufacturing enabled a new type of company whose goal was above all scale. That form of fragmentation, like the chemical elements. That way we can avoid being discontented about being discontented. And that means other questions aren't. I began with, that it doesn't matter much; it will change anyway. And we have to tell them the best way to begin may not be to write a prototype that solves a subset of a bigger problem you're trying to solve: how to have a remedial character. So by studying the intended users include the designer himself.7 I finally figured out something I've wondered about for 25 years: the relationship between wisdom and intelligence. This article is derived from a keynote talk at the fall 2002 meeting of NEPLS. But you yourself are the most important things to remember about divorce, one of which is: You shouldn't put the blame on one parent, because divorce is never only one person's fault. In 1995, writing software for end users was effectively identical with writing Windows applications. Once an essay has had a couple thousand page views I feel reasonably confident about it.

You won't feel later like that was a waste of time. Practically everyone thinks that someone who went to private schools or wished they did started to dress preppy, and kids who wanted to seem rebellious made a conscious effort to think of startup ideas, the ideas you come up with will not merely be bad, but bad specifically in the sense of not having gone to the college you'd have liked is your own feeling that you're thereby lacking something. Within Y Combinator, which is more than they paid him. What was really happening was de-oligopolization. I mean business can learn from open source: that people working for money, but also everyone who aspired to it—which in the middle of the century our two big forces intersect, in the now pointless secrecy of the Masons. At the very least we have to go pretty far down the list of colleges before you stop finding smart professors in the math department. If Christmas-as-magic lasts from say ages 3 to 10, you only have to keep the peace. Good new ideas come from earnest, energetic, and independent-minded. If the world were static, we could just program in machine language. The reason, I realized, more from internal evidence than any outside source, that the ideas we were being fed on TV were crap, and I am self-indulgent in the sense of being an insider. If you want to start startups hope universities can teach them about startups if they were merely hiring people.8 100,000 people worked there.

Notes

The other reason they pay a lot of the whole fund.

The amusing thing is, it would have seemed to Aristotle the core: the resources they expend on the Daddy Model and reality is the kind that prevents you from starving.

Joe Gebbia needed Airbnb? It's lame that VCs play such games, books, newspapers, or pigs, to the environment. You may not have raised money at first had two parts: the energy they emit encourages other ambitious people together. The mere possibility of being absorbed by the size of the current edition, which are a small proportion of spam, but all they demand from art is brand, and so don't deserve to keep the next round.

How did individuals accumulate large fortunes in an industrialized country encounters the idea of getting rich, purely mercenary founders will seem as if having good intentions were enough to absorb that. So the cost can be times when what you're doing. Investors are fine with funding nerds. In a country with a potential acquirer unless you want to know about a week for 19 years, it becomes an advantage to be about 50%.

Believe me, I should add that none who read this to be very promising, because a part has come unscrewed, you have to do that. Mueller, Friedrich M. Ideas are one of the world. As well as good ones don't even try.

Few technologies have one clear inventor. I paint someone's house, the best new startups.

With the good groups, you have to want to create a silicon valley in Israel. For example, if you don't, you're using a degenerate case of Bayes' Rule.

The continuing popularity of religion is the odds are slightly more interesting than later ones, it will seem like noise. I'm talking here about which is something inexperienced founders. Letter to Ottoline Morrell, December 1912.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #relationship #startups #effort #matters #example #founders #Facebook #newspapers #designer #hope #evidence #way #sup #intentions #time #situations #till #instinct #disasters #parents #Developments #people

[neocityarchive]

dear dream (ldh) | part 1

word count: 2.8k

warnings: language

chapter summary: Horrible as it may sound, but it seemed as if you were starting to forget what it was like to love him.

a/n: so there’s a lot of narration in the beginning but pls be patient :> ajdaskl also please let me know what you think. thank u, love u.

prev | next | masterlist

You were starting to forget. It’s been eight months after Donghyuck left for training and you were starting to forget everything.

You were starting to forget how his voice sounded on the phone at night, tired and hoarse after a long day but still managing to say sweet things subtly hidden under his teases and cheeky remarks. You were starting to forget how his lips felt on yours, on your cheeks, on your temples, at the top of you head… on your neck. You were starting to forget how his slim fingers fit in the spaces between yours and how his thumb rubs against the back of your hand out of habit. Horrible as it may sound, but it seemed as if you were starting to forget what it was like to love him.

It’s ironic, though. It seemed too soon considering how you were like the first few weeks. Even when he left, he was everywhere. The two of you didn’t break up, with the promise of seeing each other again, the promise of him coming back to you. But it still felt like that… maybe worse. He was gone but you could see him in every store you used to drag him to. You could hear him in every song, even the shitty ones with repetitive riffs and lyrics. He loves random dancing to those. Almost every night, he would appear in your dreams, either as flashbacks or as random scenes.

That is until it started to fade. Your mind that was once filled with Donghyuck has slowly been filled with a lot of something elses.

Things changed faster than you expected them to. You were still on the same job at the bookstore with Taeil who has been promoted to manager. But you went to college where you met a senior who also happened to be your upstairs neighbor. His name is Doyoung. You endorsed him to a job at the bookstore and now you’re colleagues. Both he and Taeil are the closest friends you have at the moment.

Your parents were now retired after securing your future. They sold the house, moved to a smaller place in Busan, and started a barbecue business there.  You found a nice starter apartment and started drafting your book once again, but getting nowhere.

And in all those changes, the one person who you’ve always imagined would walk every step of the way with you weren't there.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said that day. You never understood that statement. It didn’t really make sense no matter how much you thought about it, but it’s the one thing that repetitively plays on your mind. For some reason, it always gave you hope and a weird longing for tomorrow. But as days passed, you realized it really wasn’t enough.

Three months after Hyuck left and the dreams became lesser. You have already opened nine out of twelve of his letters, most of it was because you just wanted to experience his thoughts again. You miss him, but the new environment made it easier to get him off your mind every once in a while.

Six months, the dreams were rare. You missed him more than ever. There was one night when you were alone in your apartment, feeling shitty because you’re not making any progress on a report that was due the next day. You knew if he was there, he’d motivate you to work harder. You knew if he was there, it would all be different. But he wasn’t. So you opened the last letter.

“Read… when you’re mad or upset that I’m not there,” you read out loud. “As if this is going to change anything.”

It didn’t. He still wasn’t there. You drafted a reply, just wanting to let it out of your system. After reading what you wrote, you hated yourself for it. You crumpled the paper and threw it in your drawer, not having the heart to toss it into the garbage itself.

And by the eighth month… the dreams were reduced to none. You almost didn’t notice it, until one night your neighbor was watching the TV too loud. You knew it was his voice that was singing even through the thin walls. You’d recognize it anywhere. You realized you haven’t thought about your boyfriend much lately. It has gotten to the point where you begin to wonder whether it is still right to call him your boyfriend anymore.

You cried that night, feeling guilty. The aching in your chest forced you to open that letter again, the one you’ve read the most: read… when you miss me.

Your eyes scanned the words but you’ve already memorized it by heart.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you read, muttering to yourself, and before you could stop your tongue, you said, “Bullshit.”

You scribbled on a notepad on your desk: It’s been 8 months since the last time… I’m getting tired. Are we still… us?

Seeing as you thought you’ve forgotten, you were surprised to dream about him again for the first time in a while. It was about the day he told you he was leaving. You still remember the barrage of emotions you felt right then. Those same emotions mirrored themselves in your chest that night, leading to tearstained pillow cases.

“Just… don’t forget about me while you’re there.” You choked down a sob. “Promise me.”

“I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You tossed and turned in your sheets. Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt!

You groaned, your hands desperately looking for your phone somewhere on your bed to turn off the goddamn alarm.

You sighed to yourself, frowning at the sensation of the wet pillow on your cheek. “Fuck my life. It’s too early to be sad.”

You forced your eyes open to check for any notifs on your phone. It was just a bunch of emails from your professors and a few texts from your mom. But at the bottom of the list, received at 2:01 AM today… followed by 9 other tabs.

You blinked and then pinched yourself, trying to see if you were still dreaming. But you weren’t. It’s really there. With a deep breath and a fluttering heart, you tapped on the notification, watching it expand.

hyuckie: y/n!!!

hyuckie: i cant believe im saying this but..

hyuckie: i hope your habits are as bad as i remember :(

hyuckie: please be awake?

hyuckie: i really wanna talk to you, i miss you so much!!  ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

hyuckie: but i guess you’re asleep now

hyuckie: which is good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hyuckie: so i’ll talk to you in the morning?

hyuckie: goodnight :>>

You sat up, reading and re-reading the texts. It didn’t seem real. Was it...? Is this some kind of joke fate was playing on you? After almost a month of barely thinking about him, Donghyuck once again let his existence known.

You gulped, the guilt almost eating you inside as your fingers found their way to your keypad.

You: hyuck…?

You: is this real???? are you back??

You waited five minutes. There was no reply. The small hope that bubbled in your chest when you saw his texts dissipated almost immediately. Maybe you just didn’t want to be fooled that easily or maybe you were getting tired of holding onto something that hasn’t really been sitting fully within your reach for so long.

Still, throughout the day, you checked your phone more than you usually do. Even while crossing the pedestrian. Even when you were in a lecture. Even while walking in the hallway. Even when you were manning the cashier at work. You checked your phone too much that it annoyed those who were watching.

“Y/N, stop it. You’re being stupid,” Doyoung said after he returned from a round of stacking books. He has a habit of saying things straight to people’s faces. Usually, it’s a good thing, but it’s also very annoying.

You looked up, consciously putting your phone back in your pocket with a sigh.

“He’s still probably busy. I’m sure he just had, like, a night off and decided to text you.” He shrugged. “His agency don’t really give their artists breaks that much, especially since he just debuted.”

Doyoung sometimes works in the same agency as Hyuck. He’s always getting hired by people here and there to sing demos or background vocals. Even when you’ve only really heard him sing under his breath, it’s not hard for you to say he’s talented. Also, he gives you scoop on what’s happening inside Hyuck’s agency. They’ve met a lot. But as a favor, you made Doyoung promise not to tell Hyuck that you know each other.

Maybe it sounds wrong, but you weren’t really spying on your boyfriend. Besides, Doyoung is almost useless when it comes to updating you about Hyuck. All he ever tells you are his schedules, but that’s not what you wanted to know. Whenever you talk about him, it always goes something like

“How’s he doing?”

“He seemed okay.”

“Does he talk about me sometimes?”

“No, but we didn’t really talk much. He and his friends scare me.”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration. Your mind was a mess. You don’t know what to feel about Hyuck finally reaching out to you, and for some reason, you wanted to explain what made him do it even if the explanation sounded ridiculous.

“He decided to text me at 2 in the morning, after eight months of nothing,” you said, glaring at him. “It doesn’t make sense. Somebody probably just played a prank on him.”

“By texting you?” Doyoung snorted.

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s what won’t make sense,” he muttered.

“Nothing makes sense.” You sighed.

“And yet you check your phone every two minutes just in case he replied.” He shook his head. “Again, you’re being stupid.”

You were just thinking of a retort when a customer came up to the counter and asked if you had anything available on astrology. Doyoung only smiled at her politely but offered no answer.

“Yes, ma’am. You’ll find them on the last aisle.” You smiled at the lady. When she was gone, you turned back to your friend who was busy scanning some magazine he picked up. “I’m not being stupid.”

Doyoung snorted. “First of all, lame comeback. Second, yes, you are. You’re going back and forth between ‘oh I miss my boyfriend’ and ‘I don’t even know if I care anymore.’ And you’ve been going at it for months, Y/N! Make up your mind. You have to realize this whole situation is unfair to you. Third, you worry too much. Has he even seen your text yet?”

You frowned. You hate it when Doyoung is right, which is most of the time. It’s unfair that he’s always the one who makes sense. It’s worse because he tells you things you don’t want to hear but definitely should. You almost wish Taeil was here. Doyoung seems to be more reserved around him, though you’re not really sure why.

“He hasn’t,” you replied weakly. “But just to be sure…” You whipped your phone out again.

Doyoung groaned loudly, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “And here we have an idiot,” he grumbled. “God, Y/N. Give yourself a break.”

You just rolled your eyes, continuing to navigate your phone until you’ve reached your message thread with Hyuck. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

Read 8:41 PM

“He’s seen it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself. But Doyoung heard it, too. Even he couldn’t hide his surprise.

“He has?” He leaned over to look. “Why isn’t he replying then? It’s been a minute.”

“Baby steps. Doyoungie,” you said kindly.

“Oh, so now you're back to being a hopeless romantic?” He sighed. “God, you’re gonna’ give me whiplash. Whatever. Just tidy up the counter. We have to close soon.”

You nodded.

Doyoung went to walk around the store again leaving you alone by yourself. You left your phone unlocked, the screen still displaying Hyuck’s messages as you moved around and did your routine of fixing the counter and the displays in front of it.

You’ve arranged everything and checked the store’s valuables twice, yet there were still no changes on your phone except your battery has gone down 2%.

“He really left me on read,” you muttered to yourself. “Unbelievable.”

With a sigh, you locked your phone, giving up. Maybe Doyoung was right (again). Hyuck probably just finally had a night to himself and decided to talk to you, but you couldn’t reply. Fuck timing. It always ruins everything.

The lady from earlier came to you once again to purchase an astrology book. She smiled and said thanks after you handed the book back in a paper bag. You returned her smile, but inside you were questioning why people even believe in stars. You shrugged. Who am I to talk though? Why do I even believe in a relationship that doesn’t feel like one anymore? you thought to yourself.

As if the universe was determined to prove you wrong, your phone started ringing, vibrating against the wooden surface of the counter. When your eyes landed on the caller ID, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“hyuckie”

It took you a moment to react. Before you started dating, Donghyuck changed the setting of his ringtone on your phone to Stay With Me by Chanyeol & Punch. He did it as a joke to tease you, but after getting used to it, you didn’t bother to change it. You regret that decision now. The song played as if you were in some sort of romantic drama, awaiting for the male lead. It seems ridiculous to imagine, but it was enough to build the tension.

You answered the call before the vocals came in.

“...hello?” you said, your voice smaller than usual.

“Y/N?” Hyuck’s voice came through the speakers. You felt your heart clench just by the sound of it. “Hi.”

“Hyuck?” you asked, feeling stupid right after. There was no doubt it was him. But it felt surreal that he’s calling you right now that you just had to make sure.

“Who else, silly?” He laughed. “How’s my baby?”

Your face scrunched as you suppressed a scream. Why am I being like this? It’s just Hyuck, you thought to yourself, trying to calm down. But it’s Hyuck!!! You wanted to cry but you were still in public. A customer might come in at the last minute and see you bawling your eyes out. Even the thought of it makes you want to punch yourself.

“Wait, is it really you?!” You could barely hide the emotions in your voice. It was too much, a heavy mixture of excitement and nostalgia and happiness and for a reason… also sadness.

“Yes, idiot. Where are you?” He sounded a bit breathless. His voice mixed with the faint sound of traffic in the background. He was out, alright, but is he on a break? How long is this phone call going to last?

You looked around, suddenly confused, mind hazy. “I’m… where am I… um, I’m at work. Why? Where are you?”

“You’re still at work? But it’s 9,” he said.

“Yeah, we’re closing soon. Where are you? Are you on a break? Why are you calling now?” You wanted to ask so many questions but they’re all getting jammed in your mind at the moment. It doesn’t even matter since Hyuck isn’t answering any of them.

“Close it now,” he said.

“What?”

“Close the store now.”

“Why? My friend is still arranging the shelves.” You looked around for Doyoung.

“Tell your friend you have to go home,” he said before letting out a breath.

“What? But the keys are with me. Taeil would be mad if it gets lost,” you reasoned. “What are you even—”

“Just tell your friend something important came up.”

“There’s literally nothing going on in my life right now. What important thing would ‘come up?’” You snorted. “Just—”

You heard the bell hanging above the door ring, making you jump on your feet. “Shit. I have to go. We have a customer. I’ll call you, please pick up later. Imissyou,Iloveyou,byebye,” you said as fast as you could, crouching down lower with every word, hoping to hide from the eyes of whoever just came in.

You ended the call, putting the phone back in your pocket, before standing up straight, ready to greet the guest.

“Hi, how may I help…”

“Hi.” The guy smiled, chest heaving slightly, trying to catch his breath.

He was wearing a black jacket over a plain white shirt that was tucked in his jeans. The look was so simple, yet he still looked amazing. Better than your remember. Better than he appears on TV. Something about him was different, you could feel it. He looked different. He was taller and his cheeks were somehow smaller than you remembered. His hair was a different shade of brown than when you last saw. He was still slightly slouched but something about his stance is more powerful. He held himself with more pride now. And rightfully so. But underneath all of those, you could still feel it. That familiarity. That sense of security that no matter how many things have changed, he still is the same Lee Donghyuck. And somehow, despite your doubts and overthinking, you just knew he still is your Lee Donghyuck.

“Hyuck,” you said, voice faltering. You didn’t think it was this easy to have tears pooling in your eyes, but it was. Fuck, you thought. “Hi.”

He let out a chuckle upon seeing your reaction. “To answer your question, I’m your important thing that came up.”

#UM YEAH #it’s just the beginning ksjdjdj ofc #hi again #nct au series #nct au #nct haechan au #nct donghyuck imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct soft hours #nct sad hours #dear dream au series #dear dream #nct dream au #nct 127 au #nct timestamps #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan au

[terramythos]

TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 22 of 26

Title: House of Leaves (2000) 

Author: Mark Z. Danielewski

Genre/Tags: Horror, Fiction, Metafiction, Weird, First-Person, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator 

Rating: 6/10

Date Began: 7/28/2020

Date Finished: 8/09/2020

House of Leaves follows two narrative threads. One is the story of Johnny Truant, a burnout in his mid-twenties who finds a giant manuscript written by a deceased, blind hermit named Zampanò. The second is said manuscript -- The Navidson Record -- a pseudo-academic analysis of a found-footage horror film that doesn’t seem to exist. In it, Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist Will Navidson moves into a suburban home in Virginia with his partner Karen and their two children. Navidson soon makes the uncomfortable discovery that his new house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Over time he discovers more oddities -- a closet that wasn’t there before, and eventually a door that leads into an impossibly vast, dark series of rooms and hallways. 

While Johnny grows more obsessed with the work, his life begins to take a turn for the worse, as told in the footnotes of The Navidson Record. At the same time, the mysteries of the impossible, sinister house on Ash Tree Lane continue to deepen. 

To get a better idea try this: focus on these words, and whatever you do don’t let your eyes wander past the perimeter of this page. Now imagine just beyond your peripheral vision, maybe behind you, maybe to the side of you, maybe even in front of you, but right where you can’t see it, something is quietly closing in on you, so quiet in fact you can only hear it as silence. Find those pockets without sound. That’s where it is. Right at this moment. But don’t look. Keep your eyes here. Now take a deep breath. Go ahead and take an even deeper one. Only this time as you start to exhale try to imagine how fast it will happen, how hard it’s gonna hit you, how many times it will stab your jugular with its teeth or are they nails? don’t worry, that particular detail doesn’t matter, because before you have time to even process that you should be moving, you should be running, you should at the very least be flinging up your arms--you sure as hell should be getting rid of this book-- you won’t have time to even scream. 

Don’t look. 

I didn’t. 

Of course I looked. 

Some story spoilers under the cut. 

Whoo boy do I feel torn on this one. House of Leaves contains some really intriguing ideas, and when it’s done right, it’s some of the best stuff out there. Unfortunately, there are also several questionable choices and narrative decisions that, for me, tarnish the overall experience. It’s certainly an interesting read, even if the whole is ultimately less than the sum of its parts. 

First of all, I can see why people don’t like this book, or give up on it early (for me this was attempt number three). Despite an interesting concept and framing device, the first third or so of the book is pretty boring. Johnny is just not an interesting character. He does a lot of drugs and has a lot of (pretty unpleasant) sex and... that’s pretty much it, at least at the beginning. There’s occasional horror sections that are more interesting, where Johnny’s convinced he’s being hunted by something, but they’re few and far between. Meanwhile, the story in The Navidson Record seems content to focus on the relationship issues between two affluent suburbanites rather than the much more interesting, physically impossible house they live in. The early “exploration” sections are a little bit better, but overall I feel the opening act neglects the interesting premise. 

However, unlike many, I love the gimmick. The academic presentation of the Navidson story is replete with extensive (fake) footnotes,and there’s tons of self-indulgent rambling in both stories. I personally find it hilarious; it’s an intentionally dense parody of modern academic writing. Readers will note early that the typographical format is nonstandard, with the multiple concurrent stories denoted by different typefaces, certain words in color, footnotes within footnotes, etc. House of Leaves eventually goes off the chain with this concept, gracing us with pages that look like (minor spoilers) this or this. This leads into the best part of this book, namely... 

Its visual presentation! House of Leaves excels in conveying story and feeling through formatting decisions. The first picture I linked is one of many like it in a chapter about labyrinths. And reading it feels like navigating a labyrinth! It features a key “story”, but also daunting, multi-page lists of irrelevant names, buildings, architectural terms, etc. There are footnotes that don’t exist, then footnote citations that don’t seem to exist until one finds them later in the chapter. All this while physically turning the book or even grabbing a mirror to read certain passages. In short, it feels like navigating the twists, turns, and dead ends of a labyrinth. And that’s just one example -- other chapters utilize placement of the text to show where a character is in relation to others, what kind of things are happening around them, and so on. One chapter near the end features a square of text that gets progressively smaller as one turns the pages, which mirrors the claustrophobic feel of the narrative events. This is the coolest shit to me; I adore when a work utilizes its format to convey certain story elements. I usually see this in poetry and video games, but this is the first time I’ve seen it done so well in long-form fiction. City of Saints and Madmen and Shriek: An Afterword by Jeff VanderMeer, both of which I reviewed earlier this year, do something similar, and are clearly inspired by House of Leaves in more ways than one. 

And yes, the story does get a little better, though it never wows me. The central horror story is not overtly scary, but eeriness suffices, and I have a soft spot for architectural horror. Even Johnny and the Navidsons become more interesting characters over time. For example, I find Karen pretty annoying and generic for most of the book, but her development in later chapters makes her much more interesting. While I question the practical need for Johnny’s frame story, it does become more engaging as he descends into paranoia and madness.

So why the relatively low rating? Well... as I alluded to earlier, there’s some questionable stuff in House of Leaves that leaves (...hah?) a bad taste in my mouth. The first is a heavy focus on sexual violence against women. I did some extensive thinking on this throughout my read, but I just cannot find a valid reason for it. The subject feels thrown in for pure shock value, and especially from a male author, it seems tacky and voyeuristic. If it came up once or twice I’d probably be able to stomach this more easily, but it’s persistent throughout the story, and doesn’t contribute anything to the plot or horror (not that that would really make it better). I’m not saying books can’t have that content, but it’s just not explored in any meaningful way, and it feels cheap and shitty to throw it in something that traumatizing just to shock the audience. It’s like a bad jump scare but worse on every level. There’s even a part near the end written in code, which I took the time to decode, only to discover it’s yet another example of this. Like, really, dude? 

Second, this book’s portrayal of mental illness is not great. (major spoilers for Johnny’s arc.) One of the main things about Johnny’s story is he’s an unreliable narrator. From the outset, Johnny has occasional passages that can either be interpreted as genuine horror, or delusional breaks from reality. Reality vs unreality is a core theme throughout both stories. Is The Navidson Record real despite all evidence to the contrary? Is it real as in “is the film an actual thing” or “the events of the film are an actual thing”? and so on and so forth. Johnny’s sections mirror this; he’ll describe certain events, then later state they didn’t happen, contradict himself, or even describe a traumatic event through a made-up story. Eventually, the reader figures out parts of Johnny’s actual backstory, namely that when he was a small child, his mother was institutionalized for violent schizophrenia. Perhaps you can see where this is going... 

Schizophrenia-as-horror is ridiculously overdone. But it also demonizes mental illness, and schizophrenia in particular, in a way that is actively harmful. Don’t misunderstand me, horror can be a great way to explore mental illness, but when it’s done wrong? Woof. Unfortunately House of Leaves doesn’t do it justice. While it avoids some cliches, it equates the horror elements of Johnny’s story to the emergence of his latent schizophrenia. This isn’t outwardly stated, and there are multiple interpretations of most of the story, but in lieu of solid and provable horror, it’s the most reasonable and consistent explanation. There’s also an emphasis on violent outbursts related to schizophrenia, which just isn’t an accurate portrayal of the condition. 

To Danielewski’s credit, it’s not entirely black and white. We do see how Johnny’s descent into paranoia negatively affects his life and interpersonal relationships. There’s a bonus section where we see all the letters Johnny’s mother wrote him while in the mental hospital, and we can see her love and compassion for him in parallel to the mental illness. But the experimental typographical style returns here to depict just how “scary” schizophrenia is, and that comes off as tacky to me. I think this is probably an example of a piece of media not aging well (after all, this book just turned 20), and there’s been a definite move away from this kind of thing in horror, but that doesn’t change the impression it leaves. For a book as supposedly original/groundbreaking as this, defaulting to standard bad horror tropes is disappointing. And using “it was schizophrenia all along” to explain the horror elements in Johnny’s story feels like a cop-out. I wish there was more mystery here, or alternate interpretations that actually make sense. 

Overall The Navidson Record part of the story feels more satisfying. I actually like that there isn’t a direct explanation for everything that happens. It feels like a more genuine horror story, regardless of whether you interpret it as a work of fiction within the story or not. There’s evidence for both. Part of me wishes the book had ended when this story ends (it doesn’t), or that the framing device with Johnny was absent, or something along those lines. Oh well-- this is the story we got, for better or worse. 

I don’t regret reading House of Leaves, and it’s certainly impressive for a debut novel. If you’re looking for a horror-flavored work of metafiction, it’s a valid place to start. I think the experimental style is a genuine treat to read, and perhaps the negative aspects won’t hit you as hard as they did to me. But I can definitely see why this book is controversial. 

#taylor reads #2020 reading challenge #6/10