#people have always been interested in her story

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (8)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Angst, pining, injury

a/n: I appreciate thoughts and reactions more than you know!!! <333 Italics indicate flashbacks.

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The next two weeks were interesting. 

In the first few days after the accident—the ones filled with confusion and incorrect suspicions—you had spent most of your time alone or sleeping. Mor visited your bedroom every morning to share limited information about your past, but there was no routine beyond that. Everyone tiptoed around you, too afraid to set off the timebomb they assumed was your mind.

But Helion had disputed that assumption. 

You were allowed to know who you were, to become the person you had been. 

So, a routine began to form. 

Breakfast early in the morning, usually with a random assortment of the inner circle. Mor was always present, keeping up with her responsibility of telling you about yourself. Cassian joined more often than not—an early riser, he deemed himself. Azriel made it when he could. He was always busy in the morning. Doing… something, everyone told you.

Rhysand would join you after the meal, whisking you away for an hour or two to work on the powers you still could not call upon. He would have a different objective in mind every day and it was your job to parse out what it was. 

You failed. 

Obviously. 

He started bringing in random Velaris citizens instead, but you still felt nothing. It was nice to see the smiling strangers; they were all kind to you, all apparently knowing who you were. The vagueness surrounding them leveled the playing field more. They didn’t know your whole life story and you weren’t supposed to know theirs. 

“You’ve explained it to me before,” Rhysand had said. “It’s a vibration, sometimes a light or a color. You see it around them, feel it. You understand a deep part within them that they don’t even know they’re revealing.” 

Well, there was never any light or vibration or color. You could never tell that the fae were lying or that Rhysand was planning something big for his anniversary with his mate. None of this otherworldly intuition that the Night Court seemed to value so highly. It was all just stagnant. 

After spending some time failing with Rhys, you got to explore Velaris. You had insisted that you didn’t need a chaperone, and your family believed you—for a time. You had three whole days of walking around the city alone before that privilege was revoked.

Granted, it was your fault that it was revoked, but that was neither here nor there. 

It hadn’t been your plan to get lost, just as it hadn’t been your plan to get caught up in a street brawl over a cart of potatoes. But when you weren’t at the designated meeting spot for Cassian to bring you back up the house, and when he found you with a bleeding nose an hour later, what you meant to do didn’t matter. 

“Y/n?” you heard a voice shout, heavy footsteps shaking the ground beneath you. “Shit—y/n, look at me, you okay?” 

Warm hands enveloped your shaking ones, drawing them back and catching sight of the red staining your fingerprints. It was Cassian, you realized, with his broad wings cloaking you in their shadow. The General’s expression hardened when he took in your face.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low, comfort combatting fury. “Where have you been? We have about 10 people looking for you, sweetheart.” 

You grimaced—both at the pain in your nose and the notion of your family scouring the streets of Velaris. “I’m so, so sorry, Cassian. I got turned around and then I was in this alley and there was a boy—” 

“Hey!” Defeat washed through you at the sound of another voice in the alley, all hopes for a peaceful return home washed away. “Is your girlfriend over there gonna pay for the product I lost?” 

The Illyrian before you paused, body going still at the accusatory tone. Cassian’s jaw clenched and he turned, keeping you well behind him. You still caught a glimpse of the scene from between his legs, and the merchant—to his credit—had the mind to stop his taunting. 

And to look afraid. 

Really, truly afraid. 

“You did this to her?” Cassian growled, fists clenching at his sides. 

The merchant swallowed. “You’re—and she’s…” 

“Did you. Do this. To her?” Cassian asked again, words broken up by malice. 

A beat of pressing silence, only whispers of the street meeting your ears. The merchant took several, shaky steps back, but the movement damned him. His hands swayed with his backtracking feet, and red glistened on his knuckles. 

Cassian’s wings flared at the sight. It only took a small uptick of his brow for the smaller man to fall to the floor in a plea. 

“Please, please don’t kill me! I didn’t know who she was. Don’t turn me over to the Shadowsinger, I won’t make it! I have a family to care for—a wife! I was only trying to protect my crops and she butted in. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

The General hooked his chin over his shoulder and sent you a questioning gaze, one you were sheepish to answer. With a harrowing breath, you revealed, “There was a little boy stealing potatoes. He was going to hit him. I stepped in the way.” 

A tug at your chest had you gasping as Cassian turned back around. The feeling had been persistent the moment you got lost, increasing after you’d been implicated in the merchant’s conflict. It pulled and pulled, a desperate winding around your ribs that you didn’t know how to relieve. 

It had to have been fear. Or stress. 

Cassian eyed the man crumpled to the floor. “Is the boy okay?” he asked, the question meant for you but directed across the alley. 

“Yes,” you confirmed, pressing your hand to the blood running down your chin. “He ran away.” 

Cassian grunted, sent a harsh warning to the man, and then crouched back down to your place on the ground, shaking his head in frustration. “Let’s get you home.” And then he grumbled, “I might get my ass kicked but…” 

Cassian had not gotten his ass kicked when you got home, but many other things happened. Mor just about cried in relief, her arms thrown around your neck followed by a string of commands to never do such a thing again. Rhys rubbed at his jaw as tension lifted from the House. He also had a command—that you wouldn’t be traveling alone anymore. 

And Azriel… Azriel looked like he would vomit, his shadows flitting angrily around him before bridging a path to you. He had cleaned the blood from your face, eyes haunted by misplaced grief, and pure guilt replaced all else in your myriad of emotions. 

You agreed an escort would be better. 

Azriel volunteered. Every day. 

And so you got to know Azriel. 

Mor had described him as reserved, not one to offer the intimacy of touch or personal information so readily. That was not your experience with the Shadowsinger. 

Fleeting touches had become commonplace between the two of you, whether it was his hands or his wings or the brush of his thigh as you sat by the Sidra. You weren’t sure if he was doing it consciously, but you welcomed the familiarity. You found he did it most when he wasn’t paying attention—when he was deep into a story about your past or listening to your opinions intently. 

He was open, sharing pieces of himself you didn’t have to pry to receive. He told you about his mother, about his scars, about how he overcame them. He shared with you how important you were to him many, many times, slipping it into conversations so causally. A thread connected the pieces of his life, and you, it appeared, made up the spool. 

He did not speak of his mate, despite being prompted. 

A sadness came over him at any mention of her, one so achingly melancholy that you told yourself you wouldn’t ask again. 

He loved her deeply, but something had happened there.

You tried not to get too close. This was friendship, a deep familial love that he relied on. That you seemed to have relied on for so many years.

And Azriel was hurt. Even if he and his mate were no longer intertwined by their bond, he didn’t need the onslaught of emotions his amnesiac friend was suddenly overcome with. 

Because you were—overcome by emotions for him. 

It was wrong. 

You wished you had the context to separate those feelings. If you understood your history—if you had memories beyond the few weeks of sweet stories and brushes of his fingers along your hair—maybe you wouldn't be feeling this way. Maybe your heart wouldn’t beat painfully against your ribs each time he entered the room… each time his eyes met yours as if he could feel your admiration for him within his own chest. 

You wouldn’t be feeling this way, surely. Because no one had told you that you should be. 

You only had the recounts of your friends, and the three of them had made no insinuations about you and Azriel. 

You wished you could meet the rest of the inner circle. 

There had been plans to, but then you came home with blood on your face and a disorientation in your eyes and that was suddenly off the table. 

After your time exploring Velaris, you read. 

Mor would pile your favorite books beside you in the small reading room you had come to love and rave about how great of an opportunity this was for you.

“You would kill to be able to read these for the first time again,” she’d laugh. “So have at it!” 

Reading felt easy. 

Books did not pressure you to remember things you weren’t able to. 

You could see it all in their eyes, the way your family clung to each of your words for even a hint of reminiscence. They’d make a joke and hold their breath, desperate for the laugh that should be bubbling out of you. But you never got it, never making the connections that they did. 

Azriel was the only one who’d catch the shame you felt at your lack of deliverance. Although he was the one with the most torture in his expression, he was also the one with the most understanding. He’d lean his head down and whisper what you needed to know in your ear, and then you’d giggle—for show—and hope would return to the room. 

But nothing had returned to you. 

You were still a shell.

~~

“What do you think?” 

Cassian’s question blanketed the table, forks halting their movements atop plates. Breakfast had just begun and you were dressed for a morning in Velaris at the theater, this time with Cassian. 

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Mor questioned, eyeing the General beneath a raised brow. 

“Were you there last week when I brought her home all bloody? I think it’s a great idea. Rhys agrees.” 

“And Az?” 

Cassian continued his breakfast, reaching for his drink. “Cassian—”

And so you found yourself steps away from the roof of the House of Wind—no longer in the comfortable daywear you’d been sporting—squinting into the morning sun. Leathers fitted for your body were laced up at your back and waist, stretching with a groan as you reached up to block the light from your eyes. Although the pain in your head had subsided to practically nonexistence, it often flared up in brightness or in times of stress. 

Like when you stood atop a mountain and stared into the sun. Or got punched in the nose by a potato merchant. 

“This is where I go while you go galavanting around the city,” Cassian chimed in, a grin evident in his words. 

“Charming,” you muttered, still adjusting to the jarring assault of the sun.

The sound of grunts and clashing metal oriented you quicker, and as your eyesight settled you were met with the image of Azriel. He was bare-chested, leathers donning his legs as he pressed further and further forward, the knife you always saw at his hips hacking away at the metal dummy before him. 

He moved so quickly that it was difficult to track him, one swipe after another, so carefully skilled and practiced. Sweat beaded down his tattooed skin. His wings rippled and spread in time with his footwork. 

He was mesmerizing, a force of nature only halting as his shadows wound around his ear, whispering. Azriel whipped around, sheathing his knife at his side and staring out beyond the training ring with a narrowed gaze. He spotted you instantly, without looking near or around—a magnetic force. 

Until he wasn’t looking at you, instead glowering in Cassian’s direction. “What are you doing, brother?” he bit out. The back of his hand made a quick pass along his forehead. 

Cassian didn’t look the slightest bit sheepish, ushering you to the outskirts of the ring. “She’s going to train. Now that we know she won’t break at the slightest thing.” 

Hazel eyes slid back to you, a softness overcoming them as you quickly averted your gaze from the broadness of his chest. You were not ogling him. 

You bit into your cheek to stave off the embarrassment. 

“I thought we agreed—” 

“Az, come on. It’s been a couple of weeks now. We need to get her back in the swing of things.” 

A crack of defeat edged its way onto the Shadowsinger’s face. 

What had they agreed on? To wait it out? To treat you like glass until you were their version of yourself again? Something ugly licked up into your chest, something raw. 

For a moment—just one—you stood on the sidelines and felt pathetic. While the two Illyrians stared at each other, a silent conversation between eyes, you let yourself feel like an outsider. They had had discussions about you, but not really about you. About the you that they loved—the one with memories and reciprocation. 

“Will you be careful?” Azriel’s even voice snapped you out of the spiral you had initiated. His expression was uneasy, a hand pressed to his chest. “And tell us if you need to stop? If your head—” 

“My head has been completely fine for a while now,” you assured, hands coming up to grasp the rungs of the training ring. “Promise.” 

Azriel pressed his lips into a line but motioned you in with a nod of his head. 

Despite the conflict still raging within your mind, you smiled at Cassian, the two of you letting out a small cheer and high-fiving before the General lifted you by your hips and past the rungs. You regained your footing and stood before the spymaster, meeting his level gaze with your own. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Cassian began, a loud clap resonating behind you. “Muscle memory is going to play a big role here, but I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you’re just with this guy for now.” He patted the shoulder of the dummy Azriel had been practicing with. 

You scoffed, dropping your hands to hang by your thighs. “What? I still have the same muscle tone from before and last I checked my face was beaten in by a real person, not a chunk of metal.” 

“And that will not happen again,” Azriel cut it. “Ever. But especially not when you’re… in this state.”

You ignored the unsettling remark. “Okay, well I think sparring one of you would be more effective in the prevention of that, don’t you?” 

“Cassian and I could hurt you.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“We can’t guarantee—” 

“I trust you,” you interrupted, your view of Azriel partially obstructed by the shadows that wound up your body. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Let me do this, Az.” 

The male before you faltered, his eyes darting quickly between yours. His chest, gleaming in the sunlight, rose and fell with strenuous effort. A clench of his jaw. Another pass of silence. 

“Okay,” he nodded, gaze roving over your features. “Okay, y/n. Get warmed up and we can spar.” 

You warmed up with Cassian, stretching and relishing in the feel of your body moving. He went over a few basic maneuvers with you, and you tried your hardest to pay close attention to how his feet slid around the ring. 

It was a rather hard task, seeing as Azriel had continued his blade work on the dummy. Still shirtless. 

After the General was satisfied with your progress, he passed you off to his brother. The Shadowsinger’s posture had softened a hair from when you first entered the ring, his wings coiled back and his shadows creating uneven shapes along the floor. He kept his hands by his sides, his feet relaxed—not a fighting stance in the slightest. 

“Come on,” you teased, cocking your head to the side. “You have to at least try, Az.” 

“I did not spar with you often before your memories were lost,” he admitted. “I do not enjoy the thought of hurting you.” 

Guilt immediately flooded you. You hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for him, too caught up in your own strife. Your stance dropped, the fists at your chin loosening and falling. 

“Oh, Azriel, I’m sorry. I can have Cassian—” 

“No.” He dragged his left foot back. A ghost of a fighting position. “Only me.” 

You took a painful breath in. 

He didn’t move, allowing you to lead. 

You shook your hands out and then your body moved of its own accord. 

You swiped at his legs first, unsurprised when he leaped back with practiced grace. The two of you fell into a dance of drawn arms and calculated shifts and you were almost unnerved by how your body moved without you willing it to. 

Cassian had said that muscle memory would play a role. 

It seemed to be the only thing driving you.  

You went for his knees, but in a way that maneuvered past his wings. 

You used his shadows as cover, taking advantage of their familiarity with you and cloaking yourself in their mist. 

Azriel swung a halfhearted punch at your shoulder and you bypassed the motion, grabbing his wrist and twisting at his back. 

It felt right. Your actions were not your own but they were ingrained in your being. 

This was your body. 

Something that remained unchanged. 

In your newfound joy, you missed the open palm Azriel carefully directed at your chest. The impact caught you off guard, stealing your breath from your lungs as you were pushed to the ground. As your back hit the floor, another shocking burst of air was ripped from you. 

You laid frozen for a moment before a shadow cast over your body, the sun no longer beating down on your skin. Through the ringing in your ears, Azriel’s voice flowed through. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—y/n, take a breath.” A scarred hand rubbed along your clavicle. “Breathe. You’re okay. Breathe.” 

A startling gasp of oxygen entered your lungs. You were fine, completely unharmed, only shocked and disoriented. Azriel bowed his head as you continued to circulate the air into your body, and it was then that you saw it. 

A chain hung between you, dangling from his neck and brushing against your chin. It swayed back and forth, a grounding point as you blinked back the tears lining your eyes. The ring glinted in the sun, rubbing against the golden chain, looking as if it did not belong there. 

Azriel tracked your gaze as he raised his head, looking down at the object of your attention. He sat back on his ankles and the diamond followed him, resting close to his chest. 

You raised yourself to your elbows. “Who’s—” You coughed. Azriel winced. “Is that yours?”  

A stupid question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. A guarded look passed over the Shadowsinger’s face and you regretted it instantly. He reached up and clutched the necklace in a closed fist.  

“No,” he responded. “Are you okay?” 

He didn’t release the ring. 

“I’m okay,” you confirmed. “I’m not hurt. It just knocked the wind out of me.” 

Azriel nodded. A grim line formed between his brows. 

“Hey! She alright?” Cassian called. He had moved clear across the roof when you began to spar with Azriel, mentioning something about inventory or knives or something you hadn’t paid attention to. You had been too focused on the warmth you felt from being so close to Azriel’s skin. 

The sound of Cassian’s voice did nothing to break the hold Azriel’s eyes had on you. 

Another beat of silence passed. 

The wind blew a strand of his hair across his forehead. 

“I—” 

“I have a mission. I was supposed to meet with Rhys before midday.” He spoke the words apologetically but his hand shook when it lowered to his knee. 

The sun was already past the high point in the sky. It was no longer midday. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “I want to thank you for—” 

“Don’t thank me. Please, just—Be careful. I have to go.” 

A quiet collection of parting words fell from your lips and Aziel twitched, looking as if he would move forward but thinking better of it. 

But you had thoughts too, and they worked against Azriel’s

You raised to your knees and brushed the hair on his forehead back, a small smile gracing your face, trying so hard to melt some of the tension that had grown between you. Azriel’s breath caught as you moved, but you only doubled down, softly dragging your nails along his scalp. 

He shuddered, eyes falling shut for a brief, unguarded moment. 

His shadows consumed him. 

Azriel was gone. 

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x female!reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic

[chronicowboy]

Omfgg do you think about how Buck and Eddie could get together and they're happy and giddy and they think they're gonna tell Chris first but then he just shuts down. Chris shuts down and says absolutely not and neither of them know what it's about because he won't SAY anything but Buck cannot handle hurting this kid so he tells Eddie they'll be fine but he should leave. And things are angst for a few days but then one day someone knocks on Buck's door and it's Chris. He hasn't told Eddie he was there, just like once before. Buck isn't going to push him so they just sit and it's quiet before Chris asks Buck if he loves him. Him not Eddie. Of course Buck loves Chris, he's not sure where this is coming from but then Chris says that his mom loved him too. Shannon loved him too but she loved Eddie first and when Eddie left, Chris wasn't enough to make her stay. When Ana and Eddie broke up, she didn't stay in touch with Chris. Because they all loved Eddie first. And Buck just has to sit there trying not to cry but then calls Eddie and tells him to come but also bring the Will. When Eddie is there, they tell Chris about the Will. They tell him about Buck being Chris' legal guardian no matter the circumstance. And Buck tells him that he loved Chris first, that he understood Eddie through Chris. That Chris had a right to Buck with or without Eddie dating Buck and Buck had legally bound himself to being there for him. And that Eddie did this because Buck has always loved Chris first. Things get resolved and Chris finally has concrete proof of what he will always have. His dad yes but also his Buck.

honestly anon i think about this all the time because it's like the most likely first conflict for them to introduce as buddie. the do we keep it a secret do we tell people stuff is interesting but honestly it's this that will probably be their first hurdle as a couple. because to use a tim minear buzz word it's the most authentic truthful story they could tell. like christopher's abandonment issues have been a huge part of his character right from season 2 and have only gotten worse as he's grown up but buck has been a fixture in his life this whole time and suddenly EVERYTHING is changing. it's going to be terrifying. and of course buck and eddie will gracefully bow out for the sake of their son - although i think not without having some very honest conversations first but gut reactions etc etc.

as for your scene specs well this is just CRUEL. anon hate is getting so intricate these days (/j). chris running to buck a la breaking point and asking if he loves him because everyone loved eddie first. why would you phrase it like that jesus? but yeah fuck. and buck reassuring him so completely that he may have met eddie first but he fell in love with chris long before he realised he was in love with eddie. reassuring him that yes they're a family unit the three of them, but the two of them will always exist as something unique themselves no matter what. fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

#sami answers #i can see how all three of them would act this storyline and it's DEVASTATING me #them going from all giddy to immediately heartbroken and aching around each other #FUCK #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family #buck and christopher

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 4

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversations and situations, minor kinks slightly explored. Happy (early) Birthday @d33pd3sire-blog !! I hope you have a wonderful day!🩵🩵 (thank you for the kofi)

Emily was blessed with gorgeous weather when she woke up the following Friday, the sun cascading though the sky, flooding the city with the perfect warmth that would last through until the evening. She was pleasantly surprised that she was feeling considerably less nervous about tonight than she had been about your original meeting. Not that she had any better idea what she was doing or about to get herself into, but that she knew you were going to be a much better match. On top of finding you physically attractive she also enjoyed spending the evening with you, the conversation had flowed smoothly, you were smart, quick witted and there was an underlying hint of sexuality that you’d kept just beneath the first layer, ready to reveal once the discussion had finally shifted in that direction. And that was one she was more than eager to explore.

She made sure to arrive at the Conrad with more than enough time to spare, checking in and dropping off whatever she didn’t need in the suite before heading back down to the Summit. The rooftop lounge had an extensive cocktail menu, delectable food offerings and incredible views of downtown D.C. and The Capitol. She grabbed a table and ordered a glass of wine while she waited, looking through all the options on their menu.

The sound of your infectious laugh was what pulled her attention upwards a few minutes later, looking up to find you chatting with the hostess, gesturing in the direction of her table. You had a simple yet gorgeous plum cocktail dress on, the top dipping down to show more cleavage than the last time she’d seen you, the bodice nicely fitted while the skirt flared out. Your hair was loose, curled nicely and your makeup darker, more seductive as you gave her a little wave with a grin before walking over to the table.

“Hope I wasn’t keeping you.” You smiled.

“No, not at all.” She stood from the table, giving you the opportunity to take in her full outfit, form fitting dress pants and a gorgeous red blouse that showed off the curve of her chest perfectly. Her hand landed on your elbow as the two of you leant in, kissing cheeks before you slid into the other chair.

“How was the week?” You asked, picking up the cocktail menu to look through.

“Surprisingly good.” Emily replied, nearly confusing herself at the realization, “got a few of our snags figured out and the pile of papers in my inbox is finally smaller than the outbox.”

“Sounds like you need an assistant.” You teased from across the table, and she huffed a laugh.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think the bureau would like it too much if my signature was forged on everything.”

“Well at least you managed to catch a break.” You offered and she nodded.

By the time the server came by the two of you had managed to shake off any early jitters, slipping into an easy rhythm of conversation. You got a glass of sangria and Emily ordered the cheese and charcuterie plates, tempura shrimp, and scallops to share.

“So, I know you’ve been all over,” you started, taking a sip of your drink, “why choose D.C. to settle?”

“It’s a long story.” She chuckled, “but there were people I wanted to be close to, a few things to keep an eye on here. Just so happened to be close to Quantico.”

“Were you always interested in some form of law enforcement?”

“It was more about helping people, learning how to fully understand the whole psychology of it, why they do what they do. I was always interested in more than just chasing down the bad guys.”

“I’m curious then… why return to the BAU from Interpol?” You asked and Emily’s head titled.

“You know about Interpol?”

“You’re not the only one who knows how to run a background check.” You chuckled, “you may be the fed, but I still like to vet who I spend my personal time with, especially behind closed doors.”

“You’re smart.” She smiled, “I like that.”

“So?” You raised a brow, “what made Washington so much more appealing than London?”

“I missed it. That team had been my family for years and I wanted to come back to them. I knew there was a potential offer hiding in the wings that wouldn’t demote me in a sense and I wanted to help out an old friend. He only trusted me with the job, and I didn’t want the team to fall into jurisdiction of someone who wouldn’t do it justice or only wanted to disband them.”

“How’d you like Unit Chief compared to now?”

“Honestly I think I prefer it.” She laughed, “though I wouldn’t dream of stepping back down into it for the same reasons I took it in the first place.”

“Last thing you want is Bailey directly in charge of your team.” You grinned and she rolled her eyes.

“He’s got his claws deep enough in already.” She groaned.

“Too many politics involved with Section Chief I assume?” You raised a brow and she nodded, a look of near melancholy in her eyes as she switched her gaze to look out on the horizon. “You miss being out in the field, don’t you?”

“Paperwork is menial. And tedious. And so much of it seems entirely fucking pointless. When we were all mainly working from home still, it at least kept me occupied, tied to the job, like I still had a purpose. But now we’re back in the office, my team gets to run off into the face of danger and I’m stuck with the pencil pushers attending meetings that are entirely redundant. The only time I end up opening my mouth is to remind them the BAU is an integral part of the bureau, and they shouldn’t shut it down.”

“Sounds like it’s definitely about time you have yourself some fun.” You rested your chin on the back of your hand, a smirk on your lips and Emily chuckled. When she looked up at you, you could see her eyes darkening just the slightest.

“I suppose it is.”

You were interrupted before things could move further, plates of food now scattered across the table that you were both picking through, loading up your own side plates to get a little bit of everything.

“You mentioned UCONN last time.” Emily started, taking a sip of her refilled wine, “are you from Connecticut or did you just go to school there?”

“Born and raised, figured I may as well take advantage of a rent free college experience while I could.”

“Did you know Heather back then or was it just sheer coincidence?”

“Our parents ran in the same circles.” You replied with a huff, taking a bite of food and you noticed the very brief change of expression on Emily’s face before she managed to conceal it and you laughed. “Before you ask, no I’m not drowning in wealth. The Dunbar’s come from very old money and they’ve always been smart about it, they know how to invest, how to make money into even more money. I’ve never been able to understand it.”

“I assume your parents didn’t either?” She asked and you practically snorted.

“Not in the least. They liked to pretend they knew wealth, shove their way into all the fancy places and while the façade was enough to win over most people, it all came from an inheritance my mother got. Could have been worth something if my father wasn’t blowing it all away on fast cars while mother spent all of her days at the casino chain smoking, binge drinking and consistently losing.” You sighed, taking a large sip of wine, “I’m lucky there was enough left for my college education.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shrugged, “the discrepancies between our bank accounts doesn’t mean the Dunbar’s were better parents or anything.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.” Emily chuckled.

“What about you? Good relationship with your parents?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“So, no?” You laughed, pulling one from her.

“Mother travels a lot for work, she isn’t based here. We tried to kinda work through things when I was younger but between our careers it just never happened, and I’m fine with that. Spares me the lecture about still not being married or giving her grand kids.”

You let out a louder laugh, “why does it seem that that’s any mom’s only concern with their kid’s lives? There’s more than one way to succeed and be happy and in my opinion that’s all that really matters.”

“Exactly.” Emily smiled across at you, “there’s so much more to be concerned about.”

“Mmm!” You suddenly changed gears as you took your first bite of a scallop, “these are incredible.”

“You haven’t had them?” She raised a brow, “I assumed you’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, Conrad’s a pretty high choice of stay for any visiting politician but I’ve only ever had time for drinks. Try them.” You urged, breaking off another piece on your fork and holding it up to her, your other hand cupped underneath it so it wouldn’t drip on the table. She barely hesitated, lips wrapping around the fork as you gently pulled it out of her mouth, not even blinking before scooping up the last bite into your own mouth on the same utensil.

“Oh my god.” She mumbled over the food, “you weren’t kidding.”

“You’ll learn to trust my suggestions sooner or later, I’m sure of it.” You grinned at her across the table.

“I have no doubt, you wouldn’t guide me astray, now would you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You smirked across the table at her, and Emily felt a tingle shoot through her body.

A few minutes later the server came by to clear the dinner plates and offer a dessert menu that you turned down, feigning to the server that you’d had enough, and Emily asked for the cheque.

“Not a sweets fan?” She asked, polishing off her wine and you chuckled over the rim of your glass.

“I prefer to get my sugar a different way.”

“So you are interested in moving this upstairs?”

“Well, I sure hope so. I was bargaining on more than just dinner tonight.” Your lips turned upwards in a sly smile that Emily returned, slipping her credit card back into her wallet.

She guided you up to the ninth floor, letting you into the suite first. A small entry way opened up on the left into a large studio space, a breakfast bar splitting up the counter where the microwave and fridge were and the sitting area. A circular table with two chairs, a small sectional that faced the television and a thin divider that hid the bedroom space, the bathroom connected to that.

“Help yourself.” Emily gestured toward the bottle of wine on the breakfast bar, and you wasted no time in pulling down two glasses from a cupboard to fill up. Sliding one across the counter to her you settled in on a stool, unsurprised when she returned with a file folder in hand. “To be completely honest, I’m not even really sure how to do this part.” She let out a slightly awkward laugh and you hummed.

“Don’t overcomplicate it. Think of it as a business transaction with a little bit of negotiation.”

“I guess that’s actually a good place to start.” She took a sip of wine, “I think the first step should be letting you know that this is exactly that, a business transaction. It’s casual, and I don’t want you to think of it as an exclusive relationship. I’m busy, we’re both busy, if you happen to see someone else that’s more than okay as long as everything is done safely.”

“Understood.” You slipped a sheet of paper from your purse, sliding it across to her before resting your chin on the back of your hand. “I figured you’d want a clean bill of health.”

“Thank you.” She tucked it into the back of the folder, “I guess money would be the next step?”

“I’ll save you the headache.” You snagged the agreement from her, eyes scanning the page until you found the blank lines to be filled in about allowance and picked up a pen. “I’m also giving you one hell of a deal, considering I don’t need to do this for money my rates are extremely low.”

“Noted.” She laughed.

“Considering our schedules I’m going to veto the allowance and say we just do a price per date, there’s likely weeks we’re not going to see each other, and I want things to be fair. One hundred for casual dinner and drinks or something of the equal amount of time that’s simply companionship.” You began to scraw notes out on the agreement, “two hundred for a date night and sex. Three for anything longer than a standard date and if you drag me to any of those horrendous FBI galas, I’m tacking on another hundred.”

She barked out a laugh, “more than understandable.”

“I expect you to pick up the tabs most nights, but if there ever is a day that I plan or invite you out onto, don’t feel obligated. Then treats and gifts are obviously welcomed and encouraged but that is up to your discretion, think of them as rewards.”

“And you’re sure about those rates?”

“Considering the costs hotel rooms like this will run you? Absolutely.” You laughed softly.

“Do you have preferences when it comes to gifts?” She asked and you scrunched your nose.

“Not particularly? Gift cards and cash obviously work, I could use a few new pairs of shoes, a dress or two, jewelry’s always nice, standard date type gifts. Could definitely use some new lingerie sets, and I mean…” you glanced over to her, that sly smile back on your cheeks, “new toys are always fun.”

“I do not disagree with you there.” She grinned back, “so let’s talk sex.”

“I am curious, is this about you needing to get off, relieve some of that stress and relax for once, or will you be the one fucking me into next week.”

“Christ.” Emily muttered, the tingling in her body moving lower, surveying you with a gleam in her eye. “I was thinking a mutual benefit but to be blunt I’m the one wearing the strap more often than not and I have no qualms with fucking you into next month.”

It was your turn to feel the fire prickling under your skin, heading south as you tried not to shift too obviously in your chair, “a confident woman with a cock? I love it.”

“You won’t be disappointed.” She assured you and you huffed a small laugh.

“I’m sure I won’t.” You took another sip of wine, “so let’s talk kinks. I’ll tell you right now the hard off the table ones are piss play, scat play, major pet play, age play, I’m not really into anything involving food in the bedroom and please nothing involving feet.”

“You can count yourself safe from all of that.” Emily laughed, pulling a warm smile from you, “I personally don’t like being restrained or blindfolded, but I have no issues tying you up.”

“As long as you’re not using work issued cuffs.” You noted.

“Do I dare ask?” She raised a brow in your direction.

“I dated a local cop in college, those things hurt.”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed back, “I’m partial to silk ties, it’s nice to keep things pretty.”

“Agreed.” You smiled at her before glancing back down at the agreement, flipping through the pages and she watched as your brow furrowed.

“What?”

“There’s nothing in here about how to address you.” You looked back up at her.

“I thought we went over that last week.” She laughed, “just Emily is fine.”

“No ma’am?” You asked and she was very quick to shut you down.

“God, please no.”

“Most women like the title mistress, or mommy.”

“Oh…” Emily’s nose scrunched, “I guess I hadn’t thought about that….”

“I mean some do go with daddy if you’re more inclined.”

“Is that like, an all the time thing? Or just in the bedroom?”

“Could be either. I’ve heard of relationships where it’s constant and I do find that over the top but every once in a while in bed, it’s kinda hot. I mean after all, one really just wants to be a good girl for mommy.”

Emily paused, letting your words sink in for a moment as she tried to figure out how she felt about the whole thing, especially considering she was about to be your sugar mommy.  “Let’s… bookmark it for later.” She looked up at you, catching a small nod but it was the wicked smirk on your face that caught her attention first, “what?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, “I’m just not that surprised you might be intrigued. I heard you had quite the fun time entertaining Benjamin Reeves last month.”

“Oh god…” Muttering, she dropped her head, running her hand over her face and you let out a playful laugh.

“Walls really do talk.” You teased, flipping through the rest of the file, “speaking of…there’s no NDA in here?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary.” She shrugged, “there’s a piece near the end saying anything involving my work that comes up in conversation isn’t to be publicly aired anywhere but that’s all I really need.”

“Well,” finding the piece you scrawled your signature under it, “you don’t have to worry about me running to the press. Your secrets are safe with me.” You flipped the papers back in order and closed the file, sliding it back across the counter to Emily before scooping up your wine glass to walk around the counter. “Now… I do believe we’re done with the boring part…”

You approached her where she sat on the stool, your wine glass coming to rest on the counter only an inch from her own as her body turned toward you. Her hand found your waist, nudging you closer to her so you could slot yourself between her legs while she leant forward, her free hand brushing your hair back from your face. You could feel her breath hot on your skin, lips parting ever so slightly as you leant in, eyes flicking from her own down to her mouth, the distance about to be closed when there was a sudden, very loud, and repetitive buzzing on the counter.

Emily groaned, her eyes falling shut as her head fell back and you let out an annoyed huff.

“I swear to god if that’s fucking Heather I’m resigning.” You reached towards your phone at the same moment she did.

“Nope, it’s me.” She opened the screen, groaning again as she read the text messages, “and I have got to go.”

“Political crap or serial killer?”

“Serial killer.” She stood from the stool, her hand squeezing your wrist while she leaned, kissing your cheek quickly.

“Go save the world.” You raised your wine glass in a salute to her as she grabbed her bag from the couch.

“Please, finish the wine, feel free to stay.”

“I’ll take the bottle home.” You replied.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need.” You assured her with a soft smile, “next time.”

“Oh. Guaranteed.” She nodded, “get home safe. I’ll text you when we’re back.”

“I look forward to it.”

With another apologetic smile she was gone from the suite, leaving you to dump the remnants of her wine glass into yours, wandering up to the window to take in the city views as you finished it.

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss fanfic

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 3

Someone did ask for the Fatui's opinion on the creator and well, this isn't quite that, but there are a couple of hints.

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Prev Part |

~~~

One of the biggest ironies in your admittedly rather long Genshin playing career was that you were not a “Try Hard,” at least you didn’t consider yourself that. You already spend enough time being teased as a lore fanatic and a completionist without adding that title on.

While you’d still level up your characters and try Spiral Abyss every once in a while, as long as they could handle the overworld content you were content.

It wasn't that you didn’t enjoy domain farming, not that there’s much there to enjoy. It was just an odd feeling of discontent when you spent too much time farming for a specific character.

Well, it’s not that odd you supposed. Plenty of people change their main dps all the time when they get bored with a current playstyle. 

For you, well it happened with supports as well.

Case in point, Zhongli.

The illustrious retired geo archon.

More specifically, his terrible build.

Well, actually the build didn’t bother you all that much since you didn’t use him very much, but it did bother one of your friends.

For context, that friend is a Zhongli simp so it makes sense that they would complain at your half build Zhongli with missing artifacts and half leveled talents. 

It didn’t matter since you didn’t use him.

But you couldn’t put your finger on why.

There was just something about him that you didn’t feel comfortable using.

It’s not that you didn’t know how to play his kit, that accusation is both untrue and hurtful.

He just felt off.

Actually, it’s not just Zhongli that provokes this feeling.

All the Archons do.

You could always come up with an excuse to bench them almost immediately after getting them.

Venti’s kit is too reliant on his burst,

Zhongli’s kit is useless if you know how to dodge,

Raiden could be replaced with Fischl,

So on and so forth.

But you know those aren't the truth, not the full truth at least. 

If you didn’t like these characters you wouldn’t have pulled for them. But a part of yourself is still uncomfortable with playing them.

It’s maddening.

Why are you benching perfectly fine characters that you’ve spent your hard earned primogems on?

No idea.

It’s like you’re possessed everytime you try to use them. A small angry part of you just hates them, which would be fine if it appeared before you pulled for them, but it only appears after you’ve wasted months of work of saving primogems on a character you won’t use. 

The entire situation is just so dumb.

You stared at your screen where your wishing team stood.

The newest Fatui Harbinger had just been released and from your playthrough of her trial and story quest, she seems very interesting.

You positioned them outside the house of the hearth and switched over to the wishing page.

It was a bit silly to have a ritual, but you couldn’t deny that it was fun to set this up.

A quick check to your primogem counter and you pressed Wish

~~~

The Knave exhaled, watching as her breath condensed into a white puff air in front of her.

Even after all these years, she never truly enjoyed the cold the way a Sneznayan would. However, this time was much different than the other times she’s made the trip.

If she concentrated, she could feel it, a tiny flame sitting in her chest.

A blessing,

She was never one for worship, her childhood in the house of the hearth had taught her to value strength rather than gods. 

They beat in obedience to the Tsaritsa of course, as an organization run outside of Snezhnaya, it wouldn’t do for the illustrious homeland to doubt their loyalties.

But this was different.

Everyone was quite surprised when rumors of an outlander running across Teyvat started popping up, of course with Signora’s brief meeting with them, they didn’t seem like they were much of a threat, however with Tartaglia’s report following the mission to retrieve the Geo Gnosis, things became much different.

It was clear that their potential to grow stronger was many times that of normal vision holders, and apparently had the ability to pass on that same potential onto others.

It had taken the Mondstatian and Liyuenian agents and embarrassingly long time to realize that those whose abilities had skyrocketed were more than just particularly talented vision holders, and in fact had an actual connection.

Namely the Traveler.

And the fools couldn’t even get that part correct since Lyney managed to figure out, within a few days of meeting the Traveler might she add, that they were not in fact that one that granted that potential, or blessing as some have been calling it. 

It seemed that they weren’t sure why this was happening any more than the rest of Teyvat, not that they didn't have their own theories she was sure, everyone has their own secrets and the Traveler seemed particularly adept at keeping their own close to their chest.

It was quite irritating as well, considering how Tartaglia’s battle skills have improved by leaps and bounds since receiving that same blessing.

Not that it helped all that much with their research, considering how battle obsessed the man is, she pitied the poor researchers in charge of getting him to sit down for an examination.

At least he went through it first and satisfied the majority of their curiosity before her children were blessed.

She already had a difficult enough time rejecting Dottore’s ideas for new collaborative projects they could work on. The last thing she needed was for him to have an actual excuse to get his hands on one of her children.

As good as a poker face Lynette had, Arlecchino could still see through her, it was clear she was worried about how this blessing may impact their operations.

Thankfully it was very little, as she wasn’t stupid enough to go around flaunting her newfound strength like other people.

Even so,

She rubbed at her own chest, feeling slightly discomforted by its presence.

It wasn’t malevolent, at least not so far.

From the Fatui’s extensive research it seems to be connected to an ancient god.

The ancient god.

It wasn’t something that concerned her until her children got involved, and well.

The information was interesting.

There are still many gaps in their information, which makes sense considering that it spanned the time before human existence.

The creator,

The unknown, unnamed creator of Teyvat.

Arlecchino let out a mirthless chuckle, if things were truly going the way it seemed, well.

Then there'd be no need for Project Stuzha after all.

Her gaze flickered to the side as Fatui members ran around the deck, preparing for docking. 

It seems that the first leg of this trip was over.

Her boots crunched as she stopped onto the pier, it never truly stops snowing in Snezhnaya. 

Thankfully she didn’t have to stay standing in the elements for long, as there was a prepared automatic carriage waiting, ready to take her to Zapolyarny Palace.

One of Sandrone’s more “useful” toys, no horses, no wheels, and heating on the inside as well. It glided on the snow as smooth as can be.

The knave leaned back in her seat, looking as elegant as can be, when in reality her mind was very much in turmoil.

 There would no doubt be many questions for her once she arrived at the palace, questions that she sadly had no answer to.

In all their research it was clear that the blessing was only for those that the Traveler favored, or at the very least those with whom they were on good terms.

Lynette and Freminet were never overt with their Fatui ties when spending time with the Traveler, and their youth made it easy for people to drop their guard around them. 

Even Tartaglia has his own boyish charm to him, and even he reported that he did not receive the blessing until after the Traveler had seen his softer side, babysitting his brother all day and seeing him sick and vulnerable.

But her,

She never showed such weakness.

While the Traveler did become privy to her past and her connections with her children, she did not view those as weaknesses.

The opposite actually, since their duel had proved that the Traveler had yet to reach her level. 

Not that it would take long, considering how fast they improved, she wouldn’t be surprised if they would be able to give Il Capitano a run for his money soon enough.

This whole affair was made far more frustrating than it needed to be. 

It just added another layer of complication to an already delicate operation; she's sure that Dottore will try to use as his chance to examine her further to see if this blessing could have any effects on her curse. As if she doesn't know her own body’s condition by now.

Regardless, it was of no true concern for her, merely another weapon in her arsenal.

Whom she was truly concerned for was Lyney.

The late bloomer in that little trio, the last one to receive a vision and, it seems in this case, blessings as well.

Not that there was any guarantee that he’d receive a blessing, there were many who’ve met the Traveler and failed to receive a blessing.

Of course the criteria is a bit more strict than that, but there is no true rhyme or reason behind it.

From what they’ve managed to extrapolate, all those who were blessed must have two things in common, a vision and a meaningful interaction with the Traveler. 

What a frustratingly vague criteria for such a massive boon.

Even so, she’d seen the glimpse of frustration and jealousy once she revealed that she’d received hers.

Not that it made that much of a difference, while the blessing is no doubt incredibly beneficial, as she’d told him before, she didn’t choose him for his combat prowess, but for his desire to protect his family. 

But of course children don’t listen.

She expected to have another talk with him soon.

The carriage slowed as it neared the palace, it was still daytime sadly so there was no aurora for her to see, it would’ve been fitting after all if she could see them on her way back from saying goodbye to Clervie. 

She’ll have to stay up late tonight it seems.

Not that she would’ve been able to sleep early anyways, her coworkers always seem to take joy in piling her up to her ears with paperwork the second her foot touches Snezhayan snow.

How terribly tedious.

Arlecchino could not stifle the sigh when she saw exactly who greets her at the gates.

Standing here, ignoring all the gawking soldiers was no other than the youngest of them. Wearing his winter coat he waves at her eagerly, clearly excited.

She could already foresee where this was going.

She shuts off his train of inquiry with a sharp “No,” the second he opened his mouth.

He pouts, following after her as she strides into the palace, her heels clicking.

“You didn’t even hear me out,” he complained, keeping pace with her.

“I already know what you were about to say, and see no interest in entertaining this train of thought,”

He sighs, dramatically, “I’ve never had the chance to spar with another Blessed before, can you blame me for being excited?”

“You have sparred with the Traveler on a couple of occasion if I recall correctly,”

“That’s different and you know it,” 

Still it seems that he is not willing to pressure her on the issue any longer, perhaps he is finally gaining some much needed maturity, or that her displeasure with the situation is showing more than she’d prefer.

Still that does not seem to stop him from gawking at her like a new toy.

“You don’t seem particularly pleased with your blessing,” he said, after a short pause.

The Knave lets her silence speak for her,

“Yikes, and considering Dottore was so hopeful that he’d get one when he made his trip to Sumeru. Using his original segment no less,”

“What that man wants is of no concern to me as long as long as it does not involve me,”

“Still, the Tsaritsa hasn’t made any proclamation about these blessings, makes me wonder what she’s planning,” 

“I’m sure her majesty has her one plans in place,” she replies noncommittally,

“I’m sure she does, after all two of her Harbingers have already been blessed, think of how much more powerful the Fatui would be if more of us were,”

“You sound as if you wish for our fellow Harbingers to share this same blessing,” 

“Well, won’t that be a sight. Imagine the Fatui Harbingers traveling across Teyvat to get into the good graces of the Traveler.”

“It sounds like the premise for one of those Inazuman light novels,” she commented lightly

“Right!” Tartaglia snickered to himself, before the two settled into a pensive silence.

“You never answered my question you know, and I don’t mean the one about a spar” he defended, raising his arms in a gesture of innocence. 

The Knave stopped, causing him to stop too.

Usually she wouldn’t entertain his questions, but

This one was poignant. 

Why did she feel so unsettled by this blessing, 

Well the answer was simple,

“Power does not come without a price, just because the price for this power has not revealed itself yet, does not mean I’m willing to relax my guard.”

Tartaglia’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, he didn’t seem to have a response for her. 

When it became clear to him that she wasn’t about to move and that their conversation was over, he excused himself, heading to his wing of the palace.

She turned her gaze to one of the nearby windows, she could barely see her reflection in the clear glass, her blood red eyes stared back at her, a constant reminder of her bloodline and powers.

Beyond that it was simply the frozen tundra that was Snezhnaya, whirling winds and snow, nothing but an empty expanse of white.

But for a moment, between blinks, she could’ve sworn she saw someone.

A figure,

Then they were gone.

She knew there was someone there, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember what they looked like. 

Were they tall or short,

Male or female,

What clothes were they wearing, or even what color,

Nothing.

It seems that the stress of traveling had caught up to her.

She scanned the landscape again,

Nothing.

Still white and pristine and untouched, no sign of any human disturbance. 

How very odd.

~~~

A Taglist For those who've requested it!

@bunniotomia, @lucid-stories, @ymechi

Pls tell me if i'm doing this correctly.

If you'd like to be added feel free to send me an ask!

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau

[lynaferns]

The Forest On The Other Side

Chapter 1: I want to go home.

Ver. [ENGLISH / SPANISH]

A girl gets lost in the forest and finds a misterious gate in the middle of nowhere. At the other side she meets a... very peculiar individual who seems to only want to befriend her and play. Everything seems fine. Until night falls and someone else joins to play...

Again, I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. English is not my first lenguage and I still mess up sometimes.

This is in some way a more "joyful" story than BIOMáquina, still with its dark themes. I wrote this a year ago. By this I mean I forced myself to get it written down and ended up hating it and burning myself out. A couple of weeks ago I decided to reread it and I though it was pretty ok actually, so I edited it a bit to make it flow better. It used to be written more as a script for the comic I wanted to draw buuuut that didn't happen (cough stressed myself out cough forced myself cough don't force yourself to make content out of a hobby, a hobby is supposed to be for your own fun). I'm not completely satisfied with the final draft but I think is good enough for my first ever fic written.

I originally planned to make it a Y/N thing but that didn't last long. But I keeped the original idea of the first person POV. The Y/N stories I've read has always some narrator telling you what you do insert you in the story. I thought of making the MC the narrator, this way the reader can insert themselves like it's their story or they can read it as if someone else is telling them a story. This is also a bit limiting, since the narration is also the MCs thought process and sometimes I may skip details MC couldn't have seen.

AU, Magical forest, DCA centered, Sun fnaf, Moon fnaf, Elves Sun & Moon, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (kind of), Moon is agresive at first, Moon is also a bit of a gremlin, Protective Sun (I think), OC is a potty mouth, Female Main Character, First person, Angst.

The first post where I showed this AU and my first sketches ideas.

Tumblr archive with all of the art, ideas and anwsered asks.

Youtube Playlist which I'm pretty proud of how it turned out :] It's in a specific order but you can put it on mix.

Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers.

CW: Anxiety, Suicide ideation, Implied death, Choking, Non sexual abuse.

Wordcount: 9,700 (It's not rounded, that's literally the number Word tells me it's at lol)

Welp.

Here we are again, in the old village house (yey...). Well, 'I am', my family won't arrive to settle in for another week. They brought me here beforehand a few days ago for organizational reasons. They took a quick look inside before they left to see the state of the house, if it needed any repairs and such, and they headed back to the city. While they finish preparing everything, I take care of the house and text them messages about anything that may be needed for when they return.

We haven't been here in years, the house needs some repairs, and I'm sorry for the spiders, but it could use a deep cleaning. We can't do a deep cleaning but I have been cleaning what I can these last few days, at least so that it looks decent... at first glance.

Well, it's not like anyone is coming to visit.

It's a quiet town, until the kids from the town next door come to make a racket with their bikes. They play in our field, scare away the cats and throw cans around. They are assholes.

Anyways, the people in the village are nice. The adults I mean, the kids I used to play with, I don't get along with them anymore. Some of them aren't kids anymore, we have grown up and are going down different paths. But those who are still kids... they're still interested in the only older kid in the town who listened to them and let them do whatever they wanted, to a certain extent.

I don't want them to come looking for me to go out and play. I've been avoiding them by saying that I'm busy cleaning the house and getting it ready for when my family arrives, but I feel like interacting with them less and less. That's why I'm going out to the woods behind the house to get lost for a while, as always. The kids don't go near the forest so they won't bother me there.

There is an area for tourism and hiking but not many people come, some police cars border the forest from time to time but they never go inside. The reports of missing people in this forest have been coming in for decades, only some lost children have returned but there is no trace of any of the adults who disappeared along with the rest of the children. The areas marked with signs are safe but you can't go out of bounds unless you want to disappear with those people.

And I, who right now am alone and with no one to notice my absence if I go missing, am going to head straight to the forest. Don't you think, I don't want to disappear, I just don't like people and I usually go into the forest but I don't go too far away. As long as I see my house in the distance, I know how to return.

I grab my bag with my sketchbook and pencil case, in case I feel like drawing (probably won't) and step out to the back porch. The outer sliding metal door that protects the inner one is rusty and difficult to open. It would be better to oil it but I don't know when it will be done, considering that the broken railing has had a wooden board tied to it for years. I already sent my mother a message talking about it.

I enter the forest and start walking around. It's hot, of course, it's early summer, but it's quite noticeable after being in the cool inside the brick and stone house. That's the good thing about coming here in summer, the houses are made to stay cold inside and it's great, sometimes I even need to wear a jacket. But outside I'm dying, the trees don't provide enough shade. In fact, some trees are missing. I used to have my routes memorized but time has passed and some paths have changed, some have disappeared and others have formed. I admit that it makes me a little sad... I began to walk absorbed in my thoughts not paying attention to where I was going.

I'm walking away, I should go back. I'm not going to draw anything here anyway, and it's hotter outside than inside so I'm gonna to turn around-

I hear screams and laughter in the distance, the sound of the voices produces me an immediate disgust. It's those kids from the next door village. They must have come to 'investigate' about the disappearances or maybe they don't care and they just came to be idiots-

They're getting closer.

I don't want them to see me. God. Don't let them see me. Anyone but them. They're getting closser. Don't let them see me. I can't go back home now. They're cutting me off. Of all the people who could have found me. It had to be them. No, please. Don't let them see me. I have to go further into the forest, I can't let them see me. They're getting closer. Don't let them see me. I want to leave. I want to leave. I'm getting too far. I want to leave. I don't see my house. I want to leave. I don't see the village. I want to leave. I don't see the kids.

...

...

...

Where am I?

Fuck.

Where am I?

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

I want to leave.

…

—

Now I'm wandering through the forest. I don't want to go back. I want to get out of here. Even though I'm walking in a straight line I feel like I'm going around in circles, and I'm not going to get out of here now. Great. I'm lost. Now what? People who get lost in this forest don't return, no one has returned except for some children.

...

I'm going to disappear.

...

For now I keep walking until something happens. Maybe there's an animal that kills people who get lost, or maybe it's a group of kidnappers, or maybe I should stop giving myself anxiety and focus on getting out of here. Maybe if I find a field or road, or even the tourist area, I'll be able to get out of here and return bordering the fores-

...

There is... colorful graffitis on the trees. Someone has painted eyes, hands, stars and more on the bark of the trees...

What's this?

I don't know where I've come to, I didn't know this was here, in the middle of nowhere in the forest. The trees have red leaves like in autumn even though summer has just started... The first thing I thought was 'climate change's fault' but there is something that stands out in the middle of this entire flat area and it is disturbing me.

In the center there is a kind of circular gate made of stones supported by roots.

Okay, maybe it doesn't sound aaaaas disturbing as, I don't know, a totem with a human figure being impaled or something, but it's giving me a bad vibe. What is this place? Who built a stone arch in the middle of everything and why?

A bird appears flying from behind me and goes through the gate, but nothing comes out on the other side... wait what? how? The bird has crossed the gate, and disappeared behind the stone arch? ...I had to imagine it, it's not possible that that happened. I approach the arch but not before picking up a rock from the ground and throwing it to the other side of the gate.

It's still there.

…

For some reason the thought of going through the gate makes me uncomfortable, so I go around it.

...

...And the rock? It's not there.

I go back and look from inside the portal.

The rock is there.

...

I look from outside. The rock is not there. I repeat this multiple times. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock. Rock. No rock... What?

Alright, this is weird, this is VERY weird.

Even though it is clear that this isn't normal, I have to go back, pick up a fallen branch from the ground and pass it through the portal. This time I don't throw it, I've grabbed a branch long enough to see it peek out from the other side of the arch.

...

Welp.

I should be seeing not only the branch, but also my hand sticking out of the side, but I'M NOT SEEING IT. OKAY. OK. ALRIGHT. IT'S CONFIRMED. THIS IS WEIRD.

I'm asleep, right? Or unconscious. I must have passed out from exhaustion from endlessly wandering through the woods and I'm delirious or something. No, wait, it can't be, in my dreams I'm not this aware of what's around me. Where am I?

A breeze begins to pass through the gate. It's getting stronger but not enough to push me. The leaves rise from the ground and float towards the portal, none slipping outside, all entering through the stone arch. Suddenly the breeze that had become wind stops. The leaves fall to the ground.

...

I look back for a moment, as if there was something behind me that could help me make a decision. Grabbing with both hands my bag strap I look back at the portal again. Okay. Alright. This is possibly the death of me. I'm going to cross. I'm going to go to the other side. I'm just one step away from crossing. I wrinkle my face and narrow my eyes before taking the last step.

...

Nothing has happened. Everything seems the same. However, I know it's not the same... Or at least it doesn't feel the same!

Well, I've already crossed. I'm gonna... keep walking, I guess, even though this is scaring me and I don't know if I'll know how to go back. For now I'm moving forward. The red leaves have disappeared several meters ago. It's starting to look like a normal forest, except for the multicolored drawings and handprints that I keep seeing on the trees. In fact, it seems like the trees are taller with every step I take. So high that I can barely see the top. I almost tripped while looking up. Whether this is the same forest I come from, I no longer know.

This was a bad idea. I just hope to find something that'll help me know where I am, a sign or the road if possible.

*cling*

...?

I hit something with my foot. There is a ball attached to a small chain on the ground. Oh, no, wait. *cling diring ding* It's a rusty bell, I think. It doesn't have the typical cross-shaped hole or slot, rather it has several holes in a pattern. It looks like it can be opened.

There's nothing inside.

?

There's nothing? But I could have sworn it had rang. I close it again and shake it.

*...*

Nothing.

I'm going to put it in the bag, it's totally a good idea. I'll think about it later, for now I'm moving on.

—

I've been walking for a while now and throughout this time I had a constant chill on the back of my neck, as if someone had their eyes on me.

*din dirring* I hear a soft tinkling in the distance.

Okay, I'm not alone, awesome, what do I do now? Do I say hi and risk the potential danger finding me? Do I ignore the sound of bells and keep moving? It's very possible that whatever made that sound is watching me right now...

“Hello?” Still nervous, I try to say hello looking around “...” “Is someone there? H-hello?”

“-HEEEEELLO!”

“AAAAAH-!” I cover my mouth with my hands as I turn to look at what the hell has greeted me back. I take a few steps back while I look at the figure of earthy and sunny tones who responded, he seems as surprised as I am, I think (with the scream I made, normal), at least it looks like he's surprised. He wears a two toned wooden mask... it looks like a sun, with a crescent moon on its right... It gives the impression of two faces merged into one... Damn, he is tall, he's almost doubles my size. He appears to have two skin tones dividing him in half, his right side being the lighter and the left darker, especially the arm, which also has a light-colored tattoo of lines representing a sun symbol that covers from the shoulder to the pectoral and to the middle of the bicep. The right arm is covered by a long fingerless glove that reaches to the shoulder and is tied around the chest. He's wearing baggy pants with leaves coming out of the waist and legs, some... cloth boots? with a long toe bending sharply and curving in a geometric swirl with a bell at the tips, a bag hangs from the waistband of his pants and falls below his hips. His chest and neck are tied by ropes decorated with hanging stones, metals and crystals, he wears a pendant that ends in a carved symbol of a crescent moon with rays. Some of the 'sunrays' on his mask have ropes tied between them holding them in place and some metal dangling. Some red ribbons along with bells hang from his wrists.

“um... Helloooooo.” He greets again, this time he lowers his tone of voice. I manage to react, I turn around and walk away. “¡ah- eh- Wait!” Nope, I'm not going to wait and see what he does with me, I'm leaving. “He-! Hey!” Nope. I quicken my pace and try to get lost among the trees, changing direction every time he appears in my vision angle. “Human? Human-! FRIEND. Can I call you friend?!” Nope, nope, nopnop, nop, nop, nope. “Friend! Hey!” God, no, god, god, no, why are you following me? “Look, I know what you're trying to look for...! And believe me, you're not going to find it~!” How are you still following me? Where do you come from? “Hey! Listen! Why don't we do something else besides running in circles!?” Noooooooooo... “There are TONS of other activities we could do! Like... HOLY MOLY, look at this stick! Do you like sticks!?” Leave me aloneee... “You aren't looking at it! Okay, alright, you don't like sticks, erm... what might be of interest to you...” If I don't look at it it doesn't exist. “Could you help me a little here?” I want to leave... “Look, no matter how much you wander around, you won't find the portal-!”

“STOP—! STOP FOLLOWING ME! LEAVE ME ALONE!” The sudden scream startles him again, making him jump in place. He stands completely still looking at me. I'm leaving before he gets angry.

“B-but I- ...okay.” I thought I heard him say before I left him behind.

It seems that this time he's not following me, finally... Although I'm not calm, he could still be following me and simply not be in sight. Anyway, I think I'm coming back? I hope I am. I want to find that portal as soon as possible and go back to the house- what the fu-? “WHY?”

He's there. Right where I left him. Sitting on a rock. Waiting. “...! I haven't moved from the spot!”

“Yeah- but- WHY?”

“Because I knew you were going to come back here!”

“...What?”

“Is what I was trying to tell you! You can't leave! No matter how hard you try to find the portal, it won't appear before you!” The Sunman exclaimed.

“…” I'm just about to turn around. In fact, I'm already turning around.

“N-No, wait! Please don't go!” I stop in my track and look back at him. He gets off the rock he was sitting on but remains squatting, almost at my height, a little below. I move back, keeping my distance. He puts his hands up. “Look, I'm not doing anything! I won't chase you! Just- ...don't go.”

“…”

“L-look, listen, there's no way it's going to show up! Well, not to you at least. But even if you find it back, it won't work! It only works when it wants to work.”

“...” Let's imagine that I trust what he says “Ok... and when does it want to be working?”

“...” “No idea!”

“...”

“...”

I'm about to collapse on the spot. At least he doesn't seem hostile, for now. “...” “Okay... Good... Great...” “...” “FanTAS-tic.”

“...” “You don't seem like it.”

*ಠ_ಠ* I could only look to the side in frustration in response to that. I looked back at him with concern showing on my face and grabbing the strap of my bag with both hands. “And... what... do you plan to do with me?”

He took his hand to the chin of his mask and with the other he held his elbow in a comical thoughtful pose. “MmmmnnDUN know! What do you plan to do?” He asked so nonchalantly. He ended up sitting on the ground crossing his legs. “You have a good while until the portal opens again...!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

He started swaying. The silence has become uncomfortable for a while now, but I can't organize myself on what to say, and I don't know if I trust him. I don't even know if he's human, although something tells me he's not.

“You could wait here.” He suggested, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Or anywhere else, if you want. I would recommend somewhere high like the treetops (for no particular reason)! If you're going to wait... But wouldn't that be really boring?” There was something in his tone of voice... “Being there... at the top of a tree... waiting... alone... with no friends to hang out with (can I call you a friend?). Aaall on your own until the portal opens again.” He looks aside for a moment “...” And back at me again. “With no one to be with you.” He repeats the head motion “...” “alone...” Wow... I wonder what he's implying, ahem. “Wouldn't you want to have someone...? ...Someone...keeping you company?” Yeah, yeah...

“...” I guess... “I-I guess I wouldn't want to be alon-?”

He rises to his knees. “That's what I thought! Do you want me to accompany you? Only if you want! But can I?” He clasped his hands together as if asking a favor.

“um...”

“Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?Can I?” He approaches, dragging his knees on the ground.

I'm starting to miss personal space. “Okay! Okay, alright...”

“REALLY?” He started hopping and jumping around me. “OH, ohoho hO! Great! Oh, there are TONS of things we could do! Like... Like...!” He moves faster, doing bigger and bigger flips and jumps, it almost seems that he is very light, as if the breeze of air lifted him. “We could paint and decorate trees! Or we can also paint on rocks! Or paint leaves! Or paint us! Oh! We can tell stories! I'm very good at making shadows and puppets.” He moves from place to place with each sentence he says. “We can also play something!” It's moving so fast all I can see is the wind and the leaves it stirs up as it moves. “Anything! Whatever you want!” Finally he stopped in front of me half crouched. “What do ya say?! Hmm! Friend!?”

“Don't... call me like that.” Makes me feel awkward.

“Oh...why not-? Oh true, true! How silly, I don't know your name! What do you call yourself, potential friend?”

“...”

“...” “Aren't... you gonna tell me your name?”

I twist the bag strap “Depends...” I must say I'm a little skeptical about this. “Are there any consequences for telling you my name?”

“...Consequences...?”

“Like... I don't know... Mmm-by telling you my name I become your possession and cannot regain my freedom until... certain conditions are met...”

“...”

“...”

“Why- how-? Where did you get that from!?” It did sound a bit stupid when I said it out loud.

“I dunno- that's what they say in old children's stories about elves and fairies!” I just hope the embarrassment isn't showing on my face.

“Really?” I could feel his deadpan expression behind the mask.

I shrugged.

“...” “Okay... Oh, what if I tell you my name first? Will you tell me yours? It's only fair, I'm Sun!”

“...”

“Can I know your name now?” He asked expectantly.

“...How do I know you're not trying to trick me?”

“...” I must be driving him crazy with this “The only thing I can do with your name is treasure it in my memory.” He put his hands together as if he was carefully holding something and brought them to the forehead of the mask. I gave him a distrustful look. It doesn't seem like it made him desist “Please?”

I grip at my worn out bag strap “...” “ Fern...” I ended up murmuring.

“Hmm? Fern? OH, I like it!” “Sounds like FRIEND.” He emphasized the last word by making a gesture like jazz hands, leaning to the side and moving his head closer to me.

“Yeah... I think you are missing a couple of letters.”

He straightened his posture again. “Nope, I don't think so!”

“You're still not my friend.”

“Oooowwwwwnnnnnggghhh” He lowers his head dramatically until it practically touches the ground “nnnnnnngggghh, alright!” And cartwheels to stand up again “So... what will it be?”

“Hm?”

He straightened his posture and puts his arms on his hips “We have plenty of time, ya? What do you wanna to do?”

“I don't know, what do you want to do-?” Bad mistake.

“Come with me!”

“aaAAAAA-!” Before I knew it, he had grabbed my arm and I was being dragged through the woods. We visited several places and he offered me an activity to do in each of them.

—

Sun took me to a place where the trees were full of colorful paint “We practice painting on the trees here!” He said.

“Ah.” That explains the crossed out lines and the repeated imperfect shapes. By the look of it is also where he tests the quality of the paint.

“Do you want us to paint something!?”

“Not really...”

“Oh, would you prefer it to be on a rock?”

“Nah.”

“...And in star leaves-?”

“I don't want to paint, Sun.”

“Oh... Well, I can show you more places!”

“OkayyEEEEEE-” And I'm being dragged away again.

—

He brought me to another area of the forest, the ground here seemed more leveled. Not a single tree was straight, all of them were twisted and even seemed to be hollow. “How about playing something!? Like hide and seek-! No, wait, I can’t let you out of my sight.” He mumbled at the end “And chase?! We can climb a tree and see who reaches the top first! We have a place full of vines and it's perfect for swinging- and jumping from one tree to another-!”

“I don't... really want to move a lot…” With the way he runs without getting tired and me, who doesn't exercise... he would let me dead.

“Oh... well, theeen-”

—

We arrived at a place full of vegetation and humidity. Sun seemed quite excited... “This place is full of insects! We can look for cool bugs!”

“Mmmmmnoooo... I don't want to.” I had to tell him, trying to show as little disinterest as I could.

“You don't like them?” He sounded a little disappointed hearing my reaction.

“No, I do like them, some of them, but I don't like to touch them.” And I'm terrified of them flying into my face.

“Oh, well, it's okay!” He said brushing it off and we moved on to the next stop.

—

“I know that bird!” He stopped us on the way to point at a robin high up on a branch.

“ah.” I said as I removed leaves from my hair and clothes, and checked that I still had my glasses.

“He's a little rascal!”

“...” I think the bird is making us the equivalent of 'mooning'.

—

“Look fish-! Oh, they're gone…” The noise must have scared them away “We can go find more places to look at them if you want!”

“...” “...no, pass...”

“…”

—

“Look at this stick!” Sun had suddenly sprinted past me, picked up something from the ground, and came back just as fast, showing me the stick as if it were a sword.

“oh.” It's a cool stick, must admit it.

“Do you want to look for more sticks!?”

“No...”

“oh...” He looked at the ground in disappointment.

“Why would we go looking for sticks? There are all over the ground.” Specifically, in this area the ground was all sticks. We are literally just stepping on sticks right now. I don't see the ground.

“Variety!” Sun said pointing at the ground with both hands. A branch is heard falling in the distance.

—

“That's a deer!” He pointed at the deer passing nearby. The deer stopped to look at us.

“Yeah, I see.”

“We call 'em Adoquín!”

“...Why is it called Adoquí-?”

*THUMP!*

“…”

The deer smacked itself against a tree when trying to run away. It stands still for a minute, processing the hit, looks at a side and then the other, then runs off again but this time avoiding the tree.

Another *thump!* is heard in the distance.

“...” Alright.

—

“Do you wannaaaa look for pine cones? There will be some fallen around here. Oh! We can also look for mushrooms!”

I keep saying no to everything he suggests and it doesn't look like he's going to run out of ideas to pass the time. In fact, he's very insistent that we do something. I guess at some point I'll have to say yes to something. “...” “...okay...”

“Hmm?! Okay? Okay to what?” His exaggerated surprise offends me but I don't blame him.

“To... I don't know, pine cones?”

“...You don't look very convinced.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“OKAY! On the hunt for pine cones then!” I startle a little at the sudden shout. He makes a pose pointing in a direction, as if he were leading an expedition.

He takes me through the forest looking for pine cones. We aren't finding many, especially me who's not paying any interest. He tries encouraging me to put more effort into it but I keep looking at my boots.

We passed near a shingle river. I find a pebble at my feet and bend down to pick it up and take a better look. It's like a bluish gray, it has some reddish lines in the shape of waves, it feels good to the touch.

I hear the soft tinkling of a bell and feel a shadow fall beside me. “You like pebbles?” Sun is crouched next to me with his arms full of pine cones.

“…” I nod.

We go down to the river and spend some time collecting pebbles with curious shapes or small details of colors, lines, spots, etc. He comes over to show me one every time he finds weird shapes.

“…”

*rin* This time he's hunched over resting his hands on his knees. “You look… a little down.”

“…”

“Hey... we can do something else if you're tired of the pebbles.”

“...” I drop the pebbles I was looking at on the ground.

“...” He turns his gaze from me to the sky. It hasn't gotten late enough to be getting dark, but it's been a while between the walks we've taken (dragging me from here to there), looking for pine cones and then pebbles in the river. He looks back at me. “Oh, I know! Can I take you to one last place? A better place than the ones I've shown you!”

“…” I got up from the ground and waited for him to start leading to follow him.

We enter the increasingly thick forest. The trees are taller and bigger, in fact, I start to see platforms and bridges lying between the trees, I even see small shanties in them.

“Wait here!” He takes a run and jumps onto one of the trees with bridges. He takes three steps running up the tree, with a jump he pushes himself off and climbs with agility until he reaches the platform and climbs on it. “Just a moment!” It can't be seen from here but I can faintly hear some squeaks. I have no idea of what he's doin-

*rush*

“........eh?”

A rope.

A rope has fallen. At the level of my head.

“.......”

What?

…

He said he knew a better place.

No. It can't be this.

“Is it at a good height?! Can you reach it?!” He says...

It can't be.

A better place.

He can't be referring to this.

A better place.

A better place. A better place. A better place. A better place.

“Can you put your foot in?!”

“..........” For some reason what he said throws me off. “WAT-?”

“Can you put your foot in the loop and hold on to the rope so I can pull you up!?”

“..............”

“You can't climb trees, can you?! ...or you can?"

… “...” Oh “....It's...It's too high!”

“Okay!” Squeaks are heard and the rope descends to the ground.

I put my foot into the rope as he told me and hold on to it. “O-okay...!”

“Are you ready!?”

“Yes!”

“Okay!”

He begins to pull up the rope (which doesn't tighten around my foot as it supports my weight) and helps me up to the platform. (That's what it was for, obviously, what else would he want? I'm such an...) “Come on!” He says cheerfully, as always, and takes me over the bridges. “You seem tense... Don't tell me you're afraid of heights!”

“S-something like that... it's nothing.” He tilts his head at that but he says nothing. I have an unpleasant sensation in my throat.

We arrived at a high place with a view of waterfalls, I can't see above the trees. We sat on one of the bridges, resting our arms on the rope that serves as a railing and letting our legs hang off the bridge. I've thought about taking out the sketchbook to draw... but I don't really feel like it right now, so I just quietly observe the landscape. It is a better place, yeah.

…

I feel watched. I turn to look at him ...Of course he was looking at me. I don't even know whether to say something or keep quiet. ...I decide... not to say anything and look to the front.

“You... aren't very talkative, huh.”

“…”

“Not that it's a bad thing! Many people who have come here weren't very talkative at first either.” More people...

“...” “I have… nothing to talk about.” I don't want to talk.

“...” “Well, I do.”

“…”

“If it's okay with you, of course.” He laughed. Although something tells me that he is going to talk anyway.

“…”

“...” “What brings you to the forest?”

“...” Really? “I got lost.”

“Yeah, I already know!” He says between laughs “But what made you get lost?”

“...” “There was a group of kids I didn't want to get close to and I decided to go into the woods to lose them.” He makes a 'hum' sound and looks at me expectantly waiting for me to continue “And... I ended up getting myself lost...”

“...” “Only that?”

“...” “Well, yeah.” What do you mean 'oNlY tHaT'?

“...Mmm...” He places his hand on the chin of the mask.

“...” “What?”

“Nothing!” “...” “You know? You're the first human to visit the forest in a loooong time. For several cycles now…”

“Cycles?”

“Mhm” He nods.

“...What are cycles?”

Sun points to the sky “The turns that the Moon makes in the sky!” He emphasizes by rotating his arm in the air. It's pointing right at the Moon that's visible in the sky.

“Oh...” He uses the lunar cycles to know what day he's in, makes sense. “...” “So no one has been here in a while.”

“That's what I said! Well no, but yes!”

“A-and so the humans who came are still here? Have they been here all this time?”

“Yeah...! Well, no!” He paused. “They're gone!”

“What do you mean they're-?” He didn't let me finish the question.

“They are gone! They 'left'!” It sounded like he had given this answer many times already.

“What do you mean they left-?”

“They 'left'!”

“...” “...You mean...they disappear-?”

“Nope!” “...” “Something like that!” “…” “Mmmore or less…” He hesitated between one answer and another.

It seemed worthless to ask about the missing people. “...okay.” “Can I ask you-?”

“You can ask me anything!” A hint of nervousness escaped his tone.

“...okay. What is this forest?”

“My home! And the home of many other animals.”

“...” “Alright, and... how many are you...? How many of you live here? I mean. You have taken me everywhere and we haven't seen anyone of your…” I make a pointing gesture, spinning my hand around in the air. He can't be human, it doesn't look like he is. “...” “Honestly, I don't know what you are.”

“...” “There's only me... And someone else!” He looks away, as if trying to hide something.

“Oh... and who's that someone?”

“Oh! N-no, don't worry! He’s… just a friend… But it’s not important that you meet him or anything!” He brushes it off making a gesture with his hand. “Uh-um- How about we talk about you!? huh? What things do you like? Earlier, since you said no to everything, I thought you didn't like ANYTHING!” He continued talking without letting me respond. “I didn't know what to do if I ran out of ideas. I started to worry! But at least you're not one of those who spend all day shouting and threatening with a weapon in hand, ahaha...” He let out a nervous laugh.

“Um-”

“Well, you ran away screaming, yes.” He began to gesticulate widely as he complained “Like everyone-! No, not like everyone, some don't run, but those who, apart from running and screaming, attack you...! I mean...!” Something tells me he wasn't going to shut up and I was already half listening. “First they throw rocks at my head, then they insult me and run away. And I have to run after them because I can't just leave a human running around alone! No! I can't! Not in this forest! Anything could happen to them! But they never let me warn them!” He sounded tired. “And when I get them to stop running away from me, they throw things at me again and yell before demanding me to tell them where are they and how to get out of here, and when I explain it, they yell at me even more and accuse me of lying!” He turns to look at me with his hands pointing to his chest. “What reason would I have to lie?!” I don't know if he hasn't noticed or if he's ignoring the deapan I responded with. “UGH! I don't know what to do with those! But anyhow... I'm so glad we found something to do in the end!

“¿eh?” I snap out of my thoughts. It seems that now he is directing the conversation to me.

“The pebbles!” He sits turning his body towards me, leaving one single leg hanging from the bridge and the other resting on it. He takes out of his pocket some of the pebbles that he had been collecting with me. “I don't know why I assumed you wouldn't want to look for rocks. Maybe because you didn't want to paint them before... You left them back in the river in the end tho, I thought you would keep some.”

“Ah... I don't know. I didn't think I could take them with me.”

“You can keep some of mine!”

“No, it's okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You suuuuure??” He insist.

“Yeees.”

He puts a pebble very close to my face “Suuuuuuuure?” Each 'u' sounding higher than the last.

“...” I push the pebble away from my face “Yeeeees.”

“mmmh... Okay! But I hope you don't regret it later when you don't have a cool rock like these and think 'Oh man, I could have a cool rock right now!'.” After a bad impression of me, he keeps the rocks in his pants. “So... Besides pebbles, what else do you like? Mm? I haven't been able to deduce much from today.”

“Don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know!? Oh! Is it a secret?” He approaches and starts to whisper, putting his hands to the mask's mouth “I won't tell anyone, promise.”

“No. I don't know.” I looked to the side. “I can't think of anything... so suddenly.”

“ooow...” He slumps a little over the railing, looking sad.

“…” I hesitate whether to say something or not “...Drawing...”

“Mmm?!” He no longer seems sad.

“And listening to music, I guess.” “It's... all I do... most of the time.”

“Really!? Oh! I also like drawing! And music! But is that really all you do all day? Don't you do other kinds of things? Like reading! Or writting. Don't you go out for a walk or play with your friends?” I wrinkle my face at that last bit and he tilts his head in confusion.

“I don't go out.” “I have comics, but I rarely read.”

“Comics?”

“Um... They are stories but instead of narrating what happens there are drawings and only what the characters say is written.”

“...It's a book with drawings?”

“Yeah, but with a lot of drawings on each page, from start to finish.”

“WOAH.” He sounded perplexed. “That's drawing A LOT.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ahh, I'd love to see what they look like.” He rested his arm on the railing to hold his head in his hand “Too bad I can't…”

“I didn't bring them anyway.”

“Do you normally carry them around?”

“No, it's just that I didn't bring them to the village with me, I left them at home.”

“...” “Oh!” It seems that something has clicked on him. “You are not from the village.”

“No, I'm from a more urban area. My family used to come to the village every year in the summer, but we stopped coming. Now it seems that we are trying to get back into the habit.” I sighed.

“Why did you stop coming?”

“...That's personal.”

“Oh... okay.” He let a minute of awkward silence pass. “Hey, I can bring some books that I have at home! I think you might be interes-!” He looks away from me to the sunset behind us, the sun is almost gone. “-ted...” I look at the sunset too and then at him with confusion. “...” “...oh...oh-OH, Oh-no!” He stands up abruptly causing the bridge to shake slightly. What could have he seen? “We have to move!” He extends a hand to help me up. “We have to start moving!”

I get up in a hurry on my own, ignoring his hand. “O-okay, to where?”

“Come, run!” Once again he grabs me by the arm and leads me over the bridges between the trees until we reach a tree hut. It's small and dark, it looks like a small shelter. He opens the door and enters “You'll spend the night here, stay inside, do not go out, try to hide well and don't open the windows or doors, okay? Here, there are some blankets. I'll come back later.”

“Wait wait wait! What? What do you mean you'll come back later? What's happening? Why do I have to hide-!?”

“Sssh-ssh-sh” He grabs me and covers my hand with his, his left hand resting on the back of my right hand. He begins to speak in a calmer tone, with a voice that I had not heard him use until now. “It's okay, nothing happens. I have to go, I'll come back, but I can't stay now. You hide, try to rest, I'll be back, I promise.”

“...” I take my hand away from his. “Okay.” “I'll stay, but don't take too long.” Please, I don't want to be here alone.

“Yes. I'll be back.” He affirmed one last time. I watch him run away and disappear among the trees and undergrowth. I enter the small shelter to inspect it.

*TAP TAP TAP* *PLOK* *TAP TAP FOOSSSH! *

…? A noise comes from behind me. I turn around and there's a pebble on the floor.

…

Okay.

I take out my phones flashlight to see better inside the house. There are what appear to be some trunks, small cabinets, and a trapdoor in the floor, It seems that there are corners and blind spots for the windows where the little moonlight that enters through the cracks cannot reach. It's freezing cold and I haven't brought my jacket. I leave the bag on the floor against the wall, I cover myself with the blanket and curl up in a ball in the most hidden corner I can find. I'm tired, I want to sleep, but I can't close my eyes.

…

—

It's been a few hours now.

…

I can't sleep, I simply can't.

…

It doesn't look like he's coming back.

*creek*

…?

*rin*

*tap tap, creek*

Sun?

“S-...” I pause before saying a word, I have the feeling I shouldn't speak. I remain silent and wait.

*tap, tap, tap, creeeeeek, tap*

*rin dirrin*

If it were Sun he would have already let me know it is him. That or he's playing a prank on me which isn't funny, but I'd better stay silent. From the shadow I look at the windows. I notice movement through the cracks, something has just passed through the wall next to me.

*dirriring dirring*

I cover myself more with the blanket, back against the wall, I stay as still as I can, I leave a gap between the blankets and the floor to see. A red glow sneaks through the cracks in the window and scans the room.

…

The glow is gone.

*tap, tap, rin, tap, dirring, tap, tap*

It's on the roof.

…

*tap, tap, tap...*

It moves again.

*rin *

…

It sounded on the other side of the wall.

…

…

“nghehe...”

It laughed. Why did it laugh? Whatever is on the other side of the wall just let out a laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck and all over my back rise.

…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no no.

I have to move. I have to get out of here. I can't stay here.

*creeek*

It came from the door. It's trying to get in.

*rin*

The trapdoor.

*rin dirring*

Where was the trapdoor?

*creek creeeek*

I crawl across the floor making the minimum noise, carefully feeling the floor, looking for the edge of the door.

*tap tap ring dirring*

…!

I found it. I open it carefully. It's too high. I'm at a very high altitude, I don't know if I'll be able to go down.

*rin, creeek...*

…

Fuck it. I slip through the gap quietly, closing it slowly, but that doesn't stop the door from creaking. I cling to the bark of the tree-

…

I left my bag. If it comes in and see it it'll know for sure that I have been there-

…

It doesn't matter now. I have to focus on getting down from the tree without killing myself. My fingers hurt and I can't put my foot down properly because of the soles of my boots. I feel like I'm going to slip at any moment. Somehow I make it to the ground. Still attached to the tree, I look up at the house. I don't see it-

…

A shadow appears from behind the tree. I press myself against the tree and hold my breath. It's looking for something. When he doesn't seem to look I move to a nearby tree, he moves to another tree, I move to the next, and the next, and the next. We continue like this until I start to get further and further away from him. When I think I've lost him I start running. I hide behind a tree to catch my breath.

…

I slowly peek out from behind the tree.

*rin*

…

It sounded above me.

…

I don't look up, I run.

“nnghehee...” He laughs.

He gives me a few seconds advantage before coming after me. The chase begins.

I run forward as much as I can, I hear his footsteps behind me but I don't look back, there's no time for that. I hear him laughing like a madman as he moves from left to right, from one tree to another, crawling on the ground, trying to confuse me, waiting for me to make the slightest mistake to catch me.

“Ah-” I trip. As soon as I fall to the ground I get up, ripping my stockings and scraping my knees, falling again, my nerves not letting me stand up.

“Nnhehehhehe...” Asshole. He has stopped running, he approaches by walking. I try to keep as much distance as my hands and legs allow me to move. I search desperately with my hand for something on the ground to throw. Finally my hand finds something.

I throw a rock at him “AGH!”

The rock passes by him, flying one or two meters away from him. He hasn't even moved, he didn't move a single muscle to avoid it, he just watches me still from where he is. I hear the nearby *pof* of the rock falling to the ground.

“...”

“...”

…

I get up and run. He grabs my leg and I fall to the ground again. He won't let me get up, every time I try he throws me to the ground. I struggle, I kick, but I don't break free from his grip. He never stops laughing, he is enjoying this. He drags me closer to him, no matter how much I twists, he doesn't let go. “ACKH-!...Hhhh-hh...-hh-h...” He grabs me by the neck, red pupils stared at me, I'm looking straight into his crescent moon mask (or waning, I don't know. Do you think I care right now?). He raises his free hand and his veins begin to glow a platinum color that extends to his fingertips. The hand approaches my face, I don't know what it's going to do to me, I'm scared, I don't want to look. I close my eyes, cover my face with my hands. I wait.

…

…

…?

Nothing's happening. It stopped. Why?

“Mun, nïe.” I hear Sun's voice. I open my hands a little to see what's going on. Indeed, it is Sun, several meters away from us... He looks exhausted. The one with the moon mask stares at him for a moment, until he decides to look at me again while bringing his glowing veiny hand closer. “¡Mun!” The Moonman looks at Sun again “Fehreh.” He seems to speak another language, I don't understand what he says.

“...” “Nïe” For the first time I hear him say something else besides laughing. Even though I can't understand him.

“Fïer pehgïer.” Sun responds.

“...” Moonman remains silent again.

“Bïelïe óubseh góuh...” Sun continues.

“Móu txehb móunsuvïe.” The Moon responds.

“Lïe bóu ¿Sóundïe mïesugïeb fehreh nïe txehtehrlïe?”

…

The air feels tense. Probably because of the hand grabbing my neck.

“¿Zkaóu fuóunbehb txehtóur tkaehnvïe nïe bóueh mehb zkaóu ïesreh rehuh óunsóurrehveh óun leh suóurreh?” Longest sentence I've heard him say so far.

“...” “Fïer óubseh góuh.” “...” “Vóuyehmóu óuntehrdehrmóu vóu óulleh” Sun takes a step forward “Nïe suóunóu fïer zkaóu ehtehkehr ehbu” Another step forward “Nïe sóunóumïeb fïer zkaóu txehtóurlóub... óubsïe” Another step “Óullïeb bïelïe óubsehn... fóurvuvïeb.”

“...” There's no response from the moon man.

“Behkehb tïemïe óub óubïe.”

“...”

…

The hand that grabbed my neck now grabs my shirt and yanks it. I grab his wrist as he pulls me to my feet and drags me to Sun, making me stumble. He throws me against him. Sun catches me before I fall over.

“Ska óubpkaóurhïe óub óun gehnïe.” The moon says something as he walks past. Sun puts a hand on his shoulder before letting him go, there's a pause between the two. The Moonman disappears into the trees. Wind and leaves are heard passing by.

…

He's gone. I feel dizzy. I fall down.

—

…

…

…

A faint light begins to seep through the cracks, illuminating enough to wake me up and make me open my eyes, I look around. I see my bag propped against the wall. I'm at the shelter where Sun left me.

…

My body aches, I have a hard time keeping my eyes open, it feels like I've been sleeping on the hard floor. No, wait, there are some blankets underneath me... It's still too hard to sleep well, either that or as I said, it shouldn't help me at all that everything hurts. After a while of staring at the ceiling I try to sit up. I emphasize trying. With every slight effort a pained moan escapes me.

“Oof...” Hurts.

*creek, tap tap tap tap*

Those wood creaks bring back bad memories from last night (which by the way, I'm alive, wow, I just realized), I can't help but cringe at every noise, I hear footsteps approaching, I try to move but the stinging pain prevents me from it.

*creek... *

The door opens.

Triangular shapes appear through the door followed by orange earth tones. “…Oh…!” “Early bird!” Thank god it's Sun and not the other one, or something worse “I didn't expect you up this early!” He says laughingly.

“ah?”

“How are you feeling?” He walks in. When he sets foot inside I lean back, towards the wall. “...” I don't really know why I did that. Sun stands at the door showing confusion with his usual head tilt. “...Arrr...re you okay, Fern?”

“...” I became tense suddenly. I really don't know still if I can trust him? He hasn't done anything to me yet but that doesn't mean that I can trust him. I don't know if he plans to do something with me like whatever that other one, the moon one, was going to do last night. “...ehh...hhh...h...” I can't get a word out, I'm afraid to ask.

“Mm?”

“...” I don't know what to say to him. My eyes go somewhere else.

…

He enters further into the house, ignoring that I keep my distance from him, leaves a bag he was carrying on the floor and begins to open the windows, letting in the little light of the dawn that is just beginning. He kneels on the floor in front of me with the bag. “Are you hungry?” He opens the bag and takes out an apple “Do you like apples?”

“...”

“No?”

“...”

“Um... I also brought berries... (It's what I had on hand coming here) There are... different types, you can choose” He brings the bag closer to me. I move further away. “uhhh...”

“...” I want to leave.

“You don't like them either...?”

“...” I don't want to eat. I want to leave.

“...”

“*snif... *”

“u-um...!”

“...*snif* *sob*...” I started crying out of nowhere.

“Ahhh...! D-do- don't cry! Ah-I-Um- Ca-can go find other things you might like-!”

I felt ashamed for crying and I put my hands to my face trying to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. “*hic, sniff, snif *” I looked away in an attempt to cover my face. I ended up looking at the floor, letting my hair act as a curtain.

“I can go in a moment!” Sun was already getting up.

“...w-want to leave...” I managed to get a murmur out.

“...W-what? Um...”

“...” *hic, hic *

“O-okay, um... If you aren't hungry... -we can do something else- uh- we can go look for rocks like yesterday in the river!”

“...” I don't want to do anything “...want to leave...”

“O-or we can do something else! Ah-bah-b-b-b- W-won't you like to go draw??! Somewhere, some landscape?! Wherever you want! We can draw together! If you prefer we can look for animals instead of landscapes!”

“...leave...want to...go... *hic, snif *”

“¡D-don't n- uh! ¡L-let's... um- let's not- uh!” He no longer knew how to order his words “H-hey, ¿Why don't we go to-?” He extends his hand towards my arm.

“I want to go home...”

He stops before touching me and removes his hand. “...” “...home?” There is a pause. He remains silent and unmoving. He finally speaks “Do you want…?” His tone became more serious.

“...”

“...to... go see the portal?” I look up slightly, I can't see through the tears and the fogged lenses of my glasses.

“...” I nod my head.

—

…

We didn't walk far until the red began to become visible. He brought me back to the portal. The same plain of red leaves and stone arch in the center of it all, as yesterday.

…

Sun has been quiet the entire time.

He advances towards the portal and stands facing it. He turns. “Come.” He extends his hand towards me. “You can pass through.”

“...”

I advance towards the portal. I stop before crossing. If it doesn't take me back home, what do I do? I don't want to stay.

A breeze begins to come out of the portal. The breeze turns to wind, the leaves rise, they pass through us. It's the same thing that happened yesterday when I went to cross. I turn to face Sun. Motionless, he looks back at me, the leaves pause in the air for a second as if time has stopped, the wind changes. From where the wind and leaves came now they come in, they push me towards the portal. I finally cross it.

…

Am I in the forest I know? I turn to look at Sun who stayed behind in the portal. “...Sun?” He's not there. I look around. He's not here. I've already crossed the portal, he must have left.

I notice a sudden draft pass by me. It's soft, like someone walking past you. I turn towards the forest, I have to start moving, I don't want to be here another minute.

...The air current that I noticed has lifted some leaves, they reach the trees, between them the wind does something strange, it forms a transparent silhouette. It looks like Sun, I can barely see him but I could swear it's him. The wind figure raises its hand and makes a gesture, it wants me to follow it. When I approach it turns around and walks into the forest, leaving a trail of leaves behind it. I follow the trail of the air current. Sometimes it stops to look at me, making sure I'm still following it. The red-leafed trees and the paintings disappear from view the farther we go. We crossed the forest until we arrived at the entrance of the town, near my house. There is no one on the street. If I walked into the house and pretended nothing had happened, officially no one would have noticed my absence.

I'm not one hundred percent sure if the wind figure that guided me is Sun or not, but I should at least thank him for bringing me back.

…

The air current has dissipated before I turn around. I look around, there's no one.

…

…

…

I enter the house, go up to my room and throw the bag on the floor. I go to the bathroom to wash. …I feel something strange in my hands but I couldn't say what. Doesn't matter. I change my clothes and get into bed, the tiredness of the previous night makes my body succumb immediately and I fall asleep instantly.

—

…

…

…

“ah...!” I wake up with my lungs begging for air. I need a moment to calm my breathing. I look at the clock without lifting my head from the pillow.

…

It is 12 midday. I rub my eyes and from my eyes I move to my face. I'm still tired. My body still aches. I stare at the ceiling.

…

My bag. I reach out to pick it up from the floor, making strange positions so as not to get out of bed.

I open it and search in the pockets. The bell. I put the bell to my ear. “...” I shake it.

*rin, diring diring*

“...”

I open it.

…

It's empty.

#my writing #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fanfic #forest elves au #the forest on the other side #oc #selfinsert #platonic #sun & selfinsert #moon & selfinsert

[sgiandubh]

Although MPCs website clear about bring a business which contributes a portion of profits post admin costs, Sam regularly in videos and in print interviews misrepresents. He's says my charity abd he says 59% of signup fee goes to charity. If there is a problem l, it's on Sam, who according to original members, basically sold MPC control, in 2017. Your statement of knowing what he's doing with his MPC, is questionable, post corporate change of MPC. It's not just his alone. MPC has sketchy history, since Alex's involvement, and the rumors, look more as truths that a good portion of the administrative costs go to Alex pre-whisky, for a working, guaranteed salary before sales came in. It also begs the question, if Sam is interested in supporting charity with a portion of income sales, why hasn't 10% of whisky sales went to charity partners? The whisky is part of the GGC, Sam and Alex's business. Why wouldn't he plug a Newman Products design? Maybe he's not as interested in charity?

Dear MPC Anon,

It has always been 50%, which is logical. 59% sounds like a demented Asian astrologist suggestion - but you might be unfamiliar with Burmese recent history, so I shall give you a pass, on that one.

Who are the 'original members' who told you MPC was sold? To whom was it sold? When did that happen? I need paperwork to support this statement: the current corporate documents still list ONE officer - pay away from your wallet to find out it's very probably SRH: I am not doing it for you.

Like it or not, Norouzi's involvement in MPC is a reality since at least its creation. You will have to prove me the 'sketchy' part with much more than a stinking grenade thrown by Anon or fandom illiterate gossip.

I will have to see contracts between MPC, AN, SH proving that pre-whisky launching costs of The Sassenach were drawn from the MPC accounts. I will also have to see bank and accounting documents proving so. According to US law, I would also have to be a Court and have enough reasons to subpoena these people and entities to show me those. Stop spreading the shite written by Pufflander once upon a time and ask Puffy, in her retreat, what the fuck did she do with the crowdfunded money for the Harassment PI Report (you know, *urv and co). Now that would be a really interesting question, right? No answer? Bad day, baby. Bad day.

Whisky sales under the umbrella of Great Glen Company LLC, a different legal entity with no charitable mission, were never designed to represent a charitable endeavor. I think you know the difference between a charity and a company, right? Suggesting he should give 10% of all his earnings to charity is akin to a church tithe. This argument is, of course, ridiculous, in the business world, unless there is an explicit and public vow to do so, with a particular company's benefits.

Newman's Own and the Newman's Own Foundation represent Paul Newman's personal commitment to give away 100% of Newman's Own LLC profits to charity: the Foundation serves to direct the funds to the projects its trustees deem the most appropriate, according to the Foundation's values.

This is a different story and I also hope you know the difference between Great Glen Company, a business who wants to remain a business and a ground-breaking CSR commitment like Paul Newman's. Great Glen Company and MPC are separate projects - AN's loud involvement in both does not help, though, especially with an uneducated bigot, such as yourself, Anon.

Assuming he must give 100% of all his profits to charity is absolutely ridiculous, Anon. Why don't you give away all the profits of your lemonade stand to charity and set a blazing, luminous example in this fandom?

Unless you quickly substantiate what you wrote in anger on your phone, with links, facts and names, I am forced to tell you to kindly, slowly, but surely...

FUCK OFF MY PAGE!

[Later edit:] Should I start a US Tax Law 101 course for you, Anon? To me, this rather crude company/charity montage sounds legit. Also, MPC is not a charity, as shown in my previous post.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #business #legal #MPC #GGC

[natt-writes]

~5 Writing tips that actually help~

(These tips are meant for fiction books, especially fantasy. so if you’re writing nonfiction a decent amount of these won’t apply to you. Sorry!)

Find your writing voice.

one of the biggest issues I find in things written by beginners is a lack of emotional connection with the narration. Sure the story can be great, but without personality, without looks into the characters minds, without little quips here and there, it really isn’t all that interesting. Something that really helped me to realize this was a book called the tragical tale of birdie bloom. It’s a kids book but it honestly has such a good narrator (and storyline tbh) that you can look past the little kiddy-ness. I recommend you check the book out if you’re looking for some inspiration. I will be making a post about how to develop your writing and character voices soon so if you want some extra help with that, stay tuned!

2. Get to know your characters.

I know that you all probably already know this, but characters are one of, if not the most important part of a book. Readers don’t want to read about a flat, boring character who just feels like a vessel for the horrifying amount of trauma you add to your story. They want to read about people that feel real, people with flaws and feelings and hobbies and backstories. When I wanted to develop my characters I started going through the drafts, the plot outlines, everything and seeing what the characters did, said, felt. Then I took their basic backstory and started lining things up. Like if a character decided to get into a fight with another character, I would see what had happened to them that might have caused this. Maybe they had been abused as a child and thought that any disagreement meant they had to fight for their life. Maybe this person reminded them of a former enemy. After you start to figure out what connects the characters to the big plot points, you can then start to develop subtle things. You could start writing something, realize this situation would have triggered a character, and then drop subtle hints towards them feeling uncomfortable. Go nuts with it, after all you can never over-analyze a character.

3. Describe things uniquely.

Descriptions are what help us to understand what’s going on in a scene. They can tell us about the tasty drink a character is enjoying, the slick dress that someone is wearing or the way a characters muscles tense when a certain someone enters the room. But sometimes descriptions a fall a bit flat and that can ruin the experience for the reader. Something I always try to remember is to try and come up with new words describe something, for example; “her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown.” Is a very basic and over used description, instead you could try; “her eyes sparkled as she sat across from me, gleaming a rich chocolate shade as the light from the candles reflected off of them”. This is a much stronger sentence as it gives both environment hits and a description of the eyes, all while staying away from overused terms. I often see this theme in stories written by beginners, things being described in a very straight forward manner. And of course this is ok once in a while, especially if this isn’t a very important topic, but it still sounds better when you branch away from that basic sentence structure. I always like to use descriptive sentences to push things forward. Here is another example; “she was wearing a fluffy green dress with lots of lace. She walked over to the door and opened it.” Vs “the lacy trim of her green dress dragged on the floor as she walked towards the door. She smiled wide as she held it open, inviting her guests into the building.” Making strong sentences is very important, so please toy around with different words, structures, etc, until the sentence fits the type of book you’re trying to write.

4. Make trauma realistic.

Yes, even if you’re writing a fantasy book, characters experiences have to be realistic. Something that always gets on my nerves is when writers come up with a good idea for some trauma, so they just give to a character, even when it doesn’t suit them at all. if you are going to give a character trauma you need to explain it, set it up so it actually fits into their character arc, then have the character actually be affected by it. They can’t just randomly be like “I got shot by a dude.” And that’s it if there is no way that character could have gotten shot given their life experiences. Also if you want a character to be relatively unaffected after an extremely traumatic event you have to plan it out so that they have a specific and consistent trauma response that makes them not react shortly after an event like that. Characters are supposed to be like people, and no two people react to trauma the same way, so you do have some leeway if necessary, but people also don’t just stay the same after something horrible happens, they are affected by it and that has to be accurately portrayed. This does get easier the more you get to know the characters though, as soon you will know how they react to things and how to plan trauma that suits them.

5. Make a plot outline.

I cannot stress this enough, make a plot outline. Making a plot outline literally saved my book, and they are really easy to make! I recommend you download a spreadsheet app like XL spreadsheets or Apple numbers but you could even use google docs if you want. You want to put in all the chapters and then give each chapter at least six spots to write scenes. Add a spot for adding the main event of the chapter/a summery of what you have to write. This will help you to understand what you have to write for that chapter and how it fits into the next chapter. After that you start to fill all the scene boxes in with your plot information. Having a plot outline is great as it can be super vague and messy, but still hold all your ideas. It also helps to prevent unnecessary rewrites later, as you can just edit the plot outline before you start writing the first draft. You can even make a plot outline after you’ve started writing your book. That’s what I did and I promise, it still is very helpful. (Example of a plot outline below.)

#writers on tumblr #writing #novel writing #writing tips #tips #writer stuff #writer #writeblr #writing prompts #writer problems #writers and poets #writerscommunity #female writers #writing prompt #fantasy novel #fantasy #whump #writer things #writerscreed #ao3 writer #whump ideas #lgbtq #lgbtq books

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Hey! Hope your having a good day! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.

He just lets them think they can beat him.

Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?

Sure. Do you mind if we stop for ice cream?

*

A Taste of Revenge

“You’ll never get away with this!” yelled one of the three Heroes from afar.

Supervillain smiled and just waved at them while flames and energy beams hit his forcefield without leaving a scratch. It was, in fact, the third time this month he was getting away with this.

The heroes were all new, of course. The town was too little for the closest hero agency to care about what was happening here, so they’d only sent their three youngest. Sometimes they popped in while he was minding his business. They always thought they’d found a way to break through his defenses, and were always wrong. He didn’t care much, amused by these three overgrown teenagers who were looking equally embarrassed and proud of their muscles, trying to speak loud to cover their awkwardness. There was no use hurting them. The hero agency would have sent someone competent in their place. If Supervillain was only mildly inconvenienced by them, and they were convinced to gloriously fight against evil, everyone was happy.

It was sunset. There was no time to sleep before another night’s work, but enough to take a break. Supervillain went home, put his citizen clothes on, called his cat who jumped on his shoulders, and went in his favorite ice cream shop. Coincidentally, it had a magnificent view on the shiny new heroes headquarters.

The door bell rang. The shop owner raised her head and smiled at him. He was a usual customer.

“Hello, Citizen.”

“Hello, sir. Hello to you two,” she added, nodding politely to his pet.

Supervillain smiled in return. To make sure he wouldn’t be ever recognized, he’d gotten a cat. Mister Whiskers was more than happy to follow him in his ice cream adventures, especially since Supervillain was the one who walked for them both. People asked to pet the kitty sometimes, but never gave his face a second glance.

“What will you take, sir?”

Supervillain pondered for a moment, answering then:

“When I was eight, my mother took me to see the ocean for the first time. I want three scoops of that memory flavor in a cup, please.”

“Right away, sir.”

She took a cup that she filled three times with white ice cream, then gently set her opened palms over it and closed her eyes. The scoops changed into a lovely turquoise. Mister Whiskers mewed with anticipation, opening and closing his mouth.

“And for the cat?”

“A kid scoop of Oyster-Caviar, lactose-free.”

She gave his orders to him. Supervillain thanked her and settled in his usual corner. While Mister Whiskers ate his own treat like he hadn’t already eaten thrice today, Supervillain took his time, glazing by the window. For the Heroes headquarters, it was the end of the day. Secretaries were pouring down the establishment. He looked at them with interest, wondering how many people was needed to manage three baby heroes. Sometimes they went in the ice cream shop, looking harassed, not giving him a second look. They never stayed long. It was just enough for him to memorize their faces and note their schedules.

Supervillain bit his lip to hide his smile when he saw the Heroic Trio getting out of the agency, their faces crumpled. Every time he saw them by the window, he wondered what would happen if they were coming here. Today, he realized that he was going to find out. After pausing, all three opened the door and went into the line that had been forming.

Supervillain took a spoonful of ice cream. It melted on his mouth as lightly as foam. It was a flavor of pure joy, with an aftertaste of melancholy. These holidays had not lasted long. Why rush his break, then? He was more than convinced that he wouldn’t get noticed, and if he was, well, that was too bad for the customers. Most of them didn’t linger anyway. They thanked Citizen and went out, hastily eating out outside, maybe because the Heroic Trio grumbled louder and louder about the wait. The line went down quickly until the moment a little boy asked for a cone.

“I can make all the flavors you want in the world, young man,” said Citizen. “Every memory, every feeling, every object, the weather, time itself, everything has a taste.”

The little boy thought long and hard, reading out loud the suggestions. After fifteen minutes, he made his choice:

“Chocolate.”

Ignoring the loud groans behind, he was about to merrily go out, when one of the heroes caught him by the shirt:

“You haven’t paid, kid.”

“She gives it to me for free,” explained the boy, pointing at Citizen.

“Really? Why is that?”

The kid shrugged, licking his cone.

“Sometimes, I do the dishes.”

“He’s right,” intervened the shop owner. “He’s done nothing wrong, let him go.”

Hero released the kid, who went away trotting and licking his prize, and turned back to the owner with a frowning face:

“What sort of business are you running here?”

Citizen raised an eyebrow:

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you see these suits, ma’am?”

“Well, yes-”

“That means we’re heroes. He-roes, you understand? We protect you all day, putting our lives in danger for you. We’ve just escaped the most dangerous criminal of this town. We’d like to give us a little respect.”

“But I didn’t-”

“You made us wait to indulge a kid who can take anything he wants? It’s bad business practice. Terrible, even. How can you make profits like that? It’s a wonder this shop is still open.”

The three heroes towering over her, the woman tried to look at Supervillain, the only customer remaining, but he avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to blow his cover for that. Furthermore, Mister Whiskers had finished his cup and was now interested in Supervillain’s ice cream. He put it away, but as he avoided the cat’s insistent paws, he was still listening to the conversation, quietly readjusting his perception of his self-proclaimed foes. Kids they were, but bullies are of every age. He heard them making their choice (one Nova scoop, two Oncoming Storm scoops, one First Prize cup), and refusing to pay.

“ If you give free food to the bloody kid, I think you can afford to give us a free pass, too.”

The shop owner made the effort to laugh, throwing her red braid off her shoulder.

“You have a good sense of humor,” she said politely.

“I’m not joking.”

Ah, thought Supervillain, there you go. Citizen raised her tone, but they laughed at her:

“What are you going to do, use your power?”

“That’s not our fault if all you can do is ice-cream flavor', said another. “I’m sorry you can’t be a Hero, but not everyone is born equal, don’t take it on us.”

Supervillain stared at his blue ice cream melting, waiting for the shop seller to burst in tears and give in. That didn’t happen. Instead, she clenched her fists and said:

“I am more useful than you.”

The booming laughter of the Heroic trio filled the room, but the shop owner was fed up. She hit the counter with her little hand and yelled, covering their voices:

“I feed children who are hungry. I give people the taste of things they’ve forgotten and can’t have otherwise. I give people shelter when they need it. You’ve just set foot in the neighborhood and do nothing but cause property damage. I am the better Hero. Now get out of my shop.”

The laughs died out. With a stony face, one of the heroes went behind the counter, pushing her away, and took their orders by force.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

The doorbell rang when they left. A heavy silence fell.

The shop seller rocked slightly on her heels, burying her face in her hands. Supervillain looked at her, then at his now melted ice cream. His mom had offered him to see the ocean to cheer him up. He remembered why, too. Because of the day before. A school day. A bitter taste in his mouth. The wall behind his back. Kids with frowning looks and mocking smiles.

“Forcefield is not even a real power.”

“You’re so uncool.”

“What can you do, uh? Hiding like the coward you are?”

Supervillain sighed, shaking his head. No, that wouldn’t do at all.

He stood up, holding out a handkerchief to the ice cream seller. She took it without looking at him. While she blew her nose, he turned his eyes towards the Hero headquarters, looking at the Heroic Trio walking away.

“They’re kids,” he said. “They don’t know a lot of things.”

“That doesn’t give them an excuse to-”

“I know. They have no respect for powers that aren’t flashy enough for them. They’re the kind of people thinking that forcefields are for defense only.”

He smiled. All the windows on the first floor of the Hero headquarters exploded.

People screamed in the streets. The Heroic Trio came back running despite the glass shards flying, trying to localize the culprit.

“They have no imagination,” he explained pleasantly at the shop owner, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes. “They don’t know how impenetrable shields that can be projected from everywhere could be used otherwise.”

He glanced at the building now cut in two, shaking his head:

“I mean, how can they realize that this kind of shield could pierce any matter like a knife through hot butter?”

The heroes wanted to rush towards the headquarters, but bounced back. The forceshield was now covering the whole building, slightly buzzing. It didn’t stop there. It got tighter and tighter until the walls cracked and collapsed under the pressure.

“People inside-” squeaked Citizen.

“It’s the end of the day, my dear.”

The heroic trio was running around, getting people away, swearing and not knowing what to do. The forcefield didn’t vanish until the building was in ruins. Only then Supervillain turned towards the show owner. She flinched hard, but he only pulled out his wallet.

“Now, how much do we owe you?”

*

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.

#hero x villain #hero villain community #writeblr #writers on tumblr #villain and hero #heroes and villains #hero and villain #original fiction #my writing #writing snippet #writing dialogue #creative writing #writers #writing community #original character #hero and villain community #hero x villain community #heroes and villains community #villain x hero #oc #villain prompt #apparently lactose-free ice creams for cats exist #I already knew that oyster-caviar flavor exists and it is nasty I do not recommend

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #19 – Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro

This is the third book I’ve picked up as part of my whole aspirational ‘read a piece of non-SFF capital-l Literature every month’ New Years resolution. Of those three, it is the second I opened only to discover it actually is science fiction and/or fantasy after all. Which is just a very funny thing to happen twice, and also meant the book was significantly less outside my comfort zone than I’d expected. Which did make it quite a pleasant read.

The story follows Klara, an AF (Artificial Friend, a companion robot for children) in a broadly sketched and mildly dystopian future America. At first it just follows her life in the shop where she’s kept, observing the world around her and interacting with the store manager and the other AFs, but the meat of the book is her life with the family who buys her. Over time you learn that Josie, her child, suffers from severe and increasing health issues as a consequence of being ‘lifted’ (genetically enhanced, in some unclear way) in the womb. Klara, being solar-powered and having quietly developed a one-robot religion underpinned by a firm belief in the power and benevolence of Mr. Sun (and a moral opposition to Pollution, which obscures and drives him away) does her best to invoke his help in nourishing and restoring Josie. At the same time, she learns that her job is not just to comfort Josie but, should she die, to be her mother’s replacement goldfish and imitate her perfectly.

The setting is broadly sketched and never really exposited upon – it’s just not something Klara is particularly interested in – but it’s a very modern sort of dystopia. Much of the populace, even among the American professional elite, have been left ‘post-employed’ by robotic automation. The remaining meritocratic elite have embraced novel and risky genetic enhancements for their children, as the only possible way of ensuring they get into a good school and one of the few good careers left. There are fascist militia compounds off in the distance somewhere. The overall feeling is that of a society dimly aware it’s midway through collapsing, but with no ideas of how to arrest its fall. But since Klara has no interest at all in either politics or economics, we only see this as it directly intrudes upon the story, with nary a lecture or manifesto to be seen.

I’ve only ever read one other book by Ishiguro, so I really don’t know how much this generalizes, but the similarities to Never Let Me Go really were striking. Both books are set in really rather horrifying societies, but portrayed in an utterly normalized way by someone who never even thinks to question the real rules they live under. Which is even more striking because in both cases the protagonist is seen by society as only quasi-human – like a person, but existing only in relation to and for the benefit of the people who really matter. And in both cases the story follows the protagonist who lives their life moving through the role they were made for without ever really resisting it, let alone changing it. Not that the roles of ‘friend to sick child’ and ‘mandatory organ donor’ are exactly comparable but, you know.

A definition I’ve always kind of liked for what makes literary fiction, well, literary is that it’s as or more concerned with the beauty and presentation of its prose than it is on the information the prose is conveying. Not at all true in terms of how the term’s actually used (genre is marketing), but it works for me, and lets this book count as literature quite handily. The whole story is told quite tightly from Klara’s point of view, and it’s a pleasure to read. Even if it took me more than a few pages to really understand how she described scenes, always foregrounding the ways they were divided by grids or patterns of the sun’s light.

Portraying the normal human society through the eyes of a naive and somewhat alien narrator to get away without explaining everything is a classic sci fi trope for a reason, but it’s overall used really well here as well.

I’m still not entirely sure how to interpret the sudden intrusion of magical realism with the ending. But otherwise, really quite a good read.

#book review #klara amd the sun #kazuo ishiguro #sff #literature

[nightgoodomens]

Quick question. Is it just me or recently there has been an increasing pattern of random stuff on TL from a million years ago about something DT/GT related or the same story PD always says about David? People just losing their minds over how romantic they are with zero prompts or just you know... Anything romantic happening? It's weird cause I don't follow any of her fans or anything related to her but nowadays I bump into some fan\anon Twitter accounts suddenly digging things up??? If everything is perfect, then what's with the struggle babes?😂 If it's PR trying to actually draw attention to the fact that everything is going downhill and NOTHING romantic or nice has happened in the recent year, then GENIUS. It's working beautifully. I'm laughing so hard at how PR is dying to shove the good old " perfect marriage" into our faces while aggressively hammering the doors of that closet to keep the dudes from breaking out and failing miserably at both.

Oh I remember when GT’s dad tried to rewrite history but she’s the one who confirmed she was stalking DT until he gave in and it’s great because he’s a great asset.

Their fans are bringing stuff back because they have no actual sweet content nowadays. And I think more and more people are noticing that things aren’t the way they used to be. How many times can you laugh at the same “joke” of GT being the way she is about DT? How many times can you ignore the way he’s been looking with her lately - minus staged red carpets? These haven’t been perfect either.

Wordle is a perfect excuse to keep fans thinking everything is ok while they sort things out. Absolutely bare minimum effort required from both parties to keep the rumours dead. Look - they’re playing, hashtag marriage, everything is great! Honestly seeing how done DT was with the paparazzi I think he’s loving needing to just play a game and text it over. But what people are ignoring is that there hasn’t been proof of him being home for a very long time now - that’s why I’m expecting a paparazzi shot at one point to kill that rumour 😂 Unless the negotiations really went well. I hope they did for his sake.

Interesting how it’s been, isn’t it? Everything that happened since Cali… How bad things have gotten with Oliviers, the snap, the dead silence, and the triumphant come back of both MS & DT to the NT.

So bloody curious what we are getting at BAFTAs.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR

[ailani-reillata]

Happy Asian/Pacific Islander Heritage Month! 

I know this is an OC blog, and this post is just discussing my monthly theme, but API Heritage Month is so so important to me. It’s so wonderful to see my heritage, race and culture cerebrated and highlighted alongside other phenomenal and beautiful API communities! 

Over the years, I’ve woven so many of my cultural and racial experiences into Ailani’s story. It’s been wonderful to express myself and my racial identity through this fictional lens. Ailani has always been such a wonderful outlet, and I’m so so grateful for her, and for all of you!

You guys have been such a massive support since day one, and I’m so grateful for your understanding and interest for my culture and how it impacts my storytelling. Ailani’s story is so personal and meaningful to me because she is an expression of my heart and my people. Your likes, comments, replies, reblogs and asks make me feel so included, supported, loved, and celebrated. It’s hard being a person of color in fandom spaces, but you’ve all carved out room for me and my creativity. You’ve uplifted me and supported me, and I’m so thankful and so honored. Thank you for being here and for caring. 

May is a wonderful opportunity to show extra support to API artists, writers, creators and communities in general!! It’s so important to celebrate the accomplishments and achievements of API creators!! In the spirit of that, this month’s icon is drawn by @captaincyndimi !

I’m so happy to highlight Cyndi and her incredible artwork this month!! Her artwork is stunning and her creativity is inspiring. I’m so honored by her work, and her support. Make sure you check out her blog to look at the full artwork featured here, and to send some love her way this month (and every month)!!

Mahalo nui loa, 

Ivy 

#Ivy’s themes

[autumnmobile12]

The Epic Saga: Just A Man

Trigger warning for infanticide.

I want to talk about what an interesting choice it was in Epic's first installment for Odysseus to be the one to kill the infant.

In all versions of the story, the fate of Astyanax, son of Prince Hector, is always the same. He is thrown from the walls of Troy while the city is sacked. What varies from telling to telling is who does the deed, and it's usually between two people: Odysseus and Neoptolemus.

Most modern retellings make Neoptolemus the villain in this story, or they'll leave out this part entirely, because in the eyes of today's society, the senseless murder of a helpless infant is something only a villain would do.

Who's Odysseus? He's the man who won the Trojan War by engineering the idea behind the Trojan Horse, he's the guy who took ten years to sail home, he's the main character of The Odyssey. Odysseus is a hero. And heroes don't kill infants.

Who's Neoptolemus? He's forgettable. He didn't go on any heroic quests like Herakles or Perseus. He didn't slay any noteworthy monsters. Neoptolemus' biggest claim to fame are three things: He's the son of Achilles, he clubs King Priam to death in the sacking of Troy, and in some versions, he kills Astyanax. (He also enslaved Astyanax's mother.)

From the lens of the Ancient Greeks, a hero wasn't an upstanding guy who did the right thing. A hero was the guy who fought for what he wanted and did horrible things to his enemy in the process.

In the context of modern society, it's no wonder why the dubious credit of Astyanax's death goes to Neoptolemus. When that's the only real claim to fame he has, of course he's going to be a villain. We can't be having heroes killing babies because that's insane.

So let me tell you that when I first listened to The Horse and The Infant and I realized it was Odysseus who was committing the deed, that took me so off guard and I had to pause the song just to tell my poor sister how fucking crazy that is. I rarely saw this version. I mean, I understand the reasoning; it's setting up Odysseus' guilty conscious that'll plague him for the remainder of the musical. It's the flawed hero trope, which is a far cry from the brutality of the original myths.

And that in itself is testament of how mythologies have evolved over the centuries. It's why we have different variations of the myth in the first place. Societal views and values change and the stories told adapt accordingly.

Did Hades kidnap Persephone or did she go willingly to escape Demeter, her overbearing mother? Both versions are correct. All versions are correct. We cannot look for something as narrow-minded as a 'canon' version of mythology because mythology is a jumble of headcanons about the same basic concept thrown together by countless storytellers over literal centuries of storytelling.

In The Horse and The Infant, Zeus directly warns Odysseus that if Astyanax lives, he will take vengeance on him and his homeland. And after what the Greeks did to Troy, slaying the men, enslaving the women, and leaving the city in ruins, Odysseus is one of many Greek kings who have a lot to answer for.

Is Odysseus heroic for protecting his family by killing Astyanax because now the infant prince won't grow up to take vengeance?

Is Odysseus a flawed hero who carries the shame of his sins with him?

Is the deed committed by Neoptolemus and Odysseus goes home with his honor unsullied?

It all depends on interpretation. You can choose one that reflects a harsh history or you can pick the one that's been adapted to suit modern values. You don't even have to pick. You can appreciate them all for what they are.

And Epic: The Musical came out swinging.

#epic the musical #odysseus #the odyssey #the iliad #the horse and the infant #neoptolemus #astyanax #the sack of troy #greek mythology #myth retelling #mythology evolution

[archonfurina]

why do you ship neuvifuri? /g this ship is just lost on me because i didn’t read any of their interactions as romantic — i just wanna understand why it’s such a popular ship 😭😭😭

Hii okay so I don't usually like 'defending' my otp but because you seem to genuinely want to know I'll answer. But I'm also curious if you ship anyone in Fontaine because none of them had any romantic interactions. Least of all Neuvillette. But anyway, the following are my own opinions and I can't say if everyone else sees them the same way.

I put off doing Fontaine questline for months, because I had lost interest in Genshin so I missed all fandom reactions etc, I don't know how popular whatever ships are. When I finally played it, I was neutral about things until the final archon quest. When that Focalors cutscene happened with Neuvillette, my eyes kinda opened. I shipped them first before Neuvifuri. His openly shocked/upset/devastated reactions to her were something new, since he hardly emoted before and we hadn't really seen his feelings. And the way he talked about Furina to Focalors, with so much concern and care for her because she's only human with such a huge burden. So then I went on my other account and replayed the whole questline to record it for gifs, because I'd fallen in love with Furina and her story.

They ruled Fontaine together for 400 years. Furina called Neuvillette to serve as the Iudex (though it was Focalors' idea), and Furina taught him to love humanity and open himself up to people. He's like her familiar the way Dvalin is Venti's and Yae Miko is Ei's. Whether it's platonic or romantic, they're each other's most important person and they love and care for each other. In the AQ, Neuvillette becomes increasingly frustrated with Furina because she isn't letting him in and is being secretive. Yet he keeps closing his eyes (literally, in some cases) to Furina's pain, like he's done for hundreds of years.

Neuvillette is enchanted by Furina's performances on stage, and wanted her to return there in Furina's story quest, and said his appreciation of her was always genuine and he wishes she knew that. Even in his voice line about her he says if she were to return to the stage, he would attend the performance and give her his heartfelt applause.

He gave her a special vision, possibly the first vision since he gained his full powers. If you look closer, it has dragon claws on it.

In the AQ, Furina fooling the heavenly principles wouldn't have worked without Neuvillette. He forgave the people of Fontaine and together they prevented the prophecy. Even though it was all Focalor's plan, and Furina did the hardest part, if Furina hadn't made Neuvillette care for the people it wouldn't have worked.

Immediately after the AQ when Furina had to leave Palais Mermonia, he got her a new apartment, and he said he will provide her with food, clothing, travel, whatever she wants. Meanwhile Furina's voice lines say it's been a while since she went to the Palais and that she thinks it's better for the both of them. Ouch. She's even avoiding him in Liyue.

There's insane angst and potential for a tragic ship. Furina lied to him for centuries, and now thinks it's better if they don't meet. She was incredibly lonely yet she couldn't confide in him, her closest friend. She's now mortal as well, whereas Neuvillette is a dragon. So she can actually get hurt, and die.

Plus they're beautiful together. They have matching color schemes, height difference, they have amazing synergy in combat. Their in-game abilities complement each other. Like they were made for each other.

#anonymous #answered #neuvifuri #she's the sunshine girl and he's the silent type #i love that as well

[punkeropercyjackson]

Why Percy Jackson is a transfem character and always has been

So!!Obligatory 'i'm a trans man,not a trans woman' disclaimer but this analysis is based purely off 1.Percy's canon personality,relathionships and story and 2.Irl transfeminine experiences that i know a lot about thanks to having a lot of transfem friends.Said friends have also listened to my reasoning behind tgirl Percy and agreed with me if not having the hc for her already and every other transfem Pjo fan i've seen i don't personally know also say her narrative is trans woman's one too and they always understand Percy's characterization better than anyone else in the fandom(certainly better than 'himbo/malewife/babygirl-coded/slutty bisexual Percy' believers)and as a Percy kinnie it's been the take that's felt most correct to me ever since i first read Pjo,10 years ago much,MUCH before i even realized i'm queer.So with that,let's dive into why Percy is a girl quasi-canonically,including that Rick Riordan has refered to her as straight but never cis!

Trigger warnings:Misogyny,child abuse,ableism,Luke's canon pedophillia and grooming with an alluding to how it applies to Percy being female(that is not dived into!),a slang word for pedophile that's used as an insult to P*rcicos potrayal of her and internalized transmisogyny

Percy's personality

Now,as i've said before,Percy's not all that actually gendered as male-Meaning,none of her attitude or behavior or interests are masculine and are misenterpreted as such due to misogyny and gender essentialism.Percy has poor social skills,anger issues,merciless tendencies,a strong sense of justice,self-worth problems,a very odd sense of humor that always lands and respects women to the point of thinking they're better than men and none of these are gendered traits but a mix of audhd-dyslexia and trauma.The last one is arguably actually a girl thing even if there's an in-universe reason for it(good mom,deadbeat birth dad,abusive stepdad,most antagonists being older men in power and the first older person she thought she could trust was just manipulating her)

Percy also frequently complains about having to act like a stereotypical guy to have to fit into society's standards because naturally,she's just not-She's completely unconvential even amongst 'other male' demigods and this is reguarly commented on.In fact,there's a whole plot in Titan's Curse of her proving to the Hunters that she's NOT a normal 'man' and it's a huge thing that's reinforced as true the whole franchise!Zoe was right about cis men being ass and that's not 'r*dical feminism' and ngl a lot of y'all are telling on yourselves because she never talked about biology in her misandry,especially because Zoe appears to be around the same age as Thalia physically and mentally so it's super icky to throw t*rf accusations at her because she's traumatized by ancient greek men,one of the worst kinds of men ever!And Percy's totally unlike them despite being amab and identifying male not because 'not all men' but because she's actually a woman

This is a direct contrast to how she talks about and interacts with other girls-Almost every female character earns her worship on first meeting,even if she dosen't like them as people.She puts a heavy emphasis on them being girls in her narration and some dialogue too and her descriptions of them are so admirative they come as envious with her own insecurities in her looks.Percy is severely lacking in any kind of masculinity and Piper even pointed this out based on her vibes alone after hearing all about her at camp and thinking she'd be a macho man based off how people talk about her and i'm unsure if this is a common phenomenom but i frequently see and hear people say daughters tend to look like girl versions of their dad's and Percy is said to be identical to Poseidon but with softer features and the idea Percy should tie herself to masculinity due to it being expected of amabs is contradictory to canon's messages in addition to it's irl sexist implications and the sea is frequently associated with femininity(mermaids and sirens,calling ships 'she',pearl jewelry,the term 'Beach Bunny',the moon controlling the tides,etc)

And small final note:The rock music scene is filled with transfemmes and has been for a long time and while blue things are usually associated with boys,it was Percy's mom who got her to love them

Percy's relathionships

Almost all of Percy's friends growing up were girls-Annabeth,Silena,Thalia,Bianca,Zoe,Clarisse and Rachel vs just Grover,Beckendorf and Nico.She thinks The Stolls are annoying as shit with their 'boys will be boys' beat and she hates male gods on sight and implies she finds them being super conventionally attractive to be offputting instead of appealing.Nico had a crush on her until they got closer and realized she's not an ideal man like he thought she was and therefore 'cute but not his type'(I have no opinion on Solangelo but i got beef with the shippers for making this about blonde hair and blue eyes instead of transfem Percy,especially the trope of Percy acting like a kiddy fiddler over what Nico said as a joke)and she takes responsibility of him post Bianca's death and Nico exclusively wishes for older sister figures,never old brother ones

Percy and Rachel is a classic irl dynamic between transfems and their afab friends:Dating to exes to even closer friends.Rachel is a pretty typical lesbian if we're applying irl wlw things too and Annabeth is clearly a huge lesbian-Like seriously,she only ever showed attraction to Luke and Percy and Luke was comphet in her words('You were like a brother to me but i never loved you')and lesbians experiencing attraction to uncracked eggs is semi-common and she's got tons of subtext with Piper and Reyna and shows a strong distaste for the expectations of cisheterosexual womanhood,mainly femininity.Reyna is yet another comphet lesbian-coded who was into Percy.Clarisse,textually butch,calls her 'Prissy' and Piper,canon unlabeled sapphic and gnc,described her as not masc enough for her taste

Percy's relathionships to older male characters combined with her transfemininity,youth and constantly being described as 'other' from ordinary half-bloods by them function with no need for change as a potrayal to how corrupted men in power treat girls-Not women,underaged girls as Percy is 12 at the start and 18 now and we've yet to get interactions with her and male gods in the current canon timeline so all their abuse of her and innapropriate undertones in their behavior towards her were when she was underaged.This includes but is not limited to:Ares' condesension and (non-sexual) assaults,Apollo's very possible constant flirting that would definitely be textual if Percy was intended as a girl by Rick seeing as Apollo had no problem hitting on the Hunters and Reyna and her entire relathionship with Luke.Luke is canonically a serial pedophile,implied to sleep with Kelli and a raging misogynist and Percy was one of the first victim's of his gaslighting and he tried to kill her after framing her his crime against the gods in an isolated area they'd been alone in together a lot and widely noted to have accidentally been writen flirting with her throught the series by the fandom so i can't help but take Luke.rcy as a male explotation and grooming narrative

Artemis,an archaic symbol of lesbians,loves Percy and considers her above any man.Aphrodite gave Percy advice on her looks by saying everyone deserves to feel perfect in their skin to achive true perfect beauty.Persephone,one of the og csa narratives,said she likes Percy because she's 'brave' with the implication being that again,she can tell Percy is different from usual 'male' half-bloods.Hera is the goddess of traditional marriage and holds a violent resentment towards Percy for disrupting the system.Percy at her core is meant to come across as like a male god but not actually being one and actively not wanting to become one out of hate for authority and traditionality

And another small final note to a section:Frank is trans man-coded(his arc is about being emasculated and saying 'fuck you!' by making his own manhood and Mars' blessing is explicitly compared to testosterone and gives him a huge confidence boost)and they're paralleled as fundamentally similar yet also fundamentally different,Nico and her act like an eldest daughter and a middle brother where she's a pseudo-mom to him and queer siblings and Jason falls under transmasc norms(the ex-wolfkid thing,positive and healthy masculinity,creating a new self after loosing his old idealized one and Team Dad)and instantly became Percy's best friend and is her complimentary foil and 'counterpart' so transmasc4transfem realness

Percy's story(and how it all comes together and would've been improved by canonizing her as a trans woman)

Percy Jackson means 'Outcast who looks out for other outcasts'.She's so unique as a character because she was and is still genuinely a huge weirdo,not just nonhuman,she is human even if it's only half-That's only half of who she is(She's totally a Gwen Stacy variant btw).Being a trans girl would do nothing but enchance her core aspects but also work as a fixit to various canon writing problems!

Percy is femme so that'd give us positive girly girl rep to make up for all the pick me feminism.Annabeth'd have no reason to lash out and give her mixed signals since she's not a boy so their dynamic is improved.Nico's crush fades upon finding out she's a girl so they become best friends and found siblings like they were always meant and wanted to.It causes shifts in the plot that bring a bigger focus on the girlhood aspects of Greek Mythology seperate from romance retellings and a much needed change too:Percy as the hero of the Great Prophecy.Luke was a raging misogynist,a racist,a child groomer,a fucking pedophile and an entire fascist who lied about revolution to ruin society instead of fixing the system.Percy is a lifelong punk,an anarchist and a proffessional instigator and was trying to stop Luke's fuckery from 12 to 16-She's the greatest greco-roman hero ever.TGP was operating on Ancient Greek logic but Pjo isn't Ancient Greece,it's Percy's story-How she forced the gods to change with no choice by SHOWING how much stronger and more etheral she is than them

BUT WAIT,THERE'S ONE MORE FINAL NOTE!!!!!Percy would be a million times happier as a trans femme than as a cis man.She gets to transition and not have to be an ordinary male she's NOT so she starts loving and accepting herself way more as she changes into who she wants and deserves to be and we should all want that for her too.The truth is she's nothing like Hercules,she's unimpressive as a man,Nico believed she was a real male hero but she failed at being a performance of it based off what he knew of men and now they're cool and he thinks Percy's cute but not like that,she thinks aggressively male men are wicked and not all that handsome,Rachel made her feel normal because she's not a normal girl (either),Annabeth has princess hair and had a makeover at a magic spa and she strikes fear into hearts in a way only girls and she wants all that too,she also wanted to be treated like Thalia so bad,Jason is the Superman she's been waiting for her whole life

She's the mom to Nico and Hazel Sally was to her,she's a rocker chick,she was on the swim team in high school and went to protests and did charity events with that frizzy neurotic girl she's attached to the hip with,she loves burgers and desserts,she's got streaked hair,she uses 2000s and 90s slang completely unironically and she just wants people to think she's normal but still get to be herself.The sea does not like to be restrained

#percy jackson #transfem percy jackson #persephone jackson #black percy #latino percy #autistic percy jackson #pastel punk percy jackson #team mom percy jackson #the hunters of artemis #zoe nightshade #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #black nico di angelo #leah is our annabeth #rachel elizabeth dare #nigerian rachel dare #pjo gods slander #anti luke castellan #antilukercy #frank zhang #jason grace #black jason grace #trans jason grace #t4t jercy #nico and percy #trans frank zhang #pjo #trans women #💌 #summerposting

[mhsdatgo]

To the point about Rhaenyra being boring, it continues to elude me why the producers, writers, and directors decided they needed to humanize Rhaenyra by downplaying if not outright removing her worst traits. That’s not humanizing, that’s sanitizing.

There are plenty of female characters that exist in fiction who are frustrating to morally ambiguous, to completely evil but still have their fans and are beloved, or at the very least compelling. The comparisons to Shiv Roy from Succession already exist, so I won’t belabor that point, but look at other shows like Mr. Robot, Better Call Saul, and if anyone really wants to press the button for feminism: The Handmaid’s Tale. Those shows have incredibly well-written female characters that aren’t necessarily paragons.

House of the Dragon choosing to center Rhaenyra as the protagonist as opposed to making her part of a true ensemble a la the original Game of Thrones wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The narrative decision to frame her as heroic (as far as S1 is concerned) is how we get the ‘Protagonist Centered Morality/Unreliable Narrator’ trope that results in plenty of media literate fans that are either neutral or Green-leaning who feel frustrated that there’s not an equal balance between characters.

Perfectly put together, anon. I'm sorry I answered so late. -_-

There's nothing wrong with characters that are written to be good people, but you see, that only works when said character is written consistently and somewhat realistically. Something that the writers completely didn't do in Rhaenyra's case. Are you going to tell me I'm supposed to watch her go through Visenya's traumatic birth, which by the way, happened so quickly after learning that her father was dead, keep her calm, and find it believable?

There is no sense of reason when it comes to grief. None. When someone close to you is gone, you check out. They take a part of your mind away with them and sometimes you don't even realize it. Especially if it's as horrid, as painful and helpless as what Rhaenyra went through. I am not going to sit here and blame the Greens for that baby's death, for all we know of her she had dragon features and was 100% going to die either way. That is digestible for us viewers/readers, who have no connection for a baby mentioned in a few lines.

But Rhaenyra's her mother. And rightfully, when she loses her this way, she goes mad with grief. She wants someone to blame, she cannot cope with the idea that there is no one to blame in this situation, that it would've happened either way. So she blames her enemies, the Greens. She isn't right, but she isn't even sane anymore, she's just had a stillbirth, how can you expect her to think before she speaks?

But the show strips her completely of this anger, and makes her push for peace. Is it possible that not even THAT can make this perfect angel Qween lose her temper like any human would? I understand wanting to rid her of any sin so she looks like a Saint, but really, where's the flaw in being angry and irrational after your stillbirth?

I never liked Rhaenyra as a person but I was looking forward (I'm STILL looking forward lol) to the role she will play as a character, a literary device, a tool to tell a story. I'm not saying I hope they bring out the worst of her this season so more people have reasons to hate women and feel justified for it, but LET HER BE RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. I'M BEGGING YOU.

People will always choose and be more obsessed with the evil but interesting one, not the one who's got more morals. It's already been said in a post I saw not so long ago, but Luke shouldn't be winning polls for best character against OTTO HIGHTOWER of all people because we choose morality in none other than a world like ASOIAF. Please give characters nuance. There's so much potential they got lazy with using timeskips etc. already.

#house of the dragon #fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen

[queerfables]

I'm very hopeful for Buck/Eddie to become a canon ship, it would be great if that's what the show is doing, but also the more that I watch the more I get really emotional about what the show has already done by making Buck bi.

I'm reluctant to say too much about this since I'm only on s4 but I feel like... this show always impresses me with how sensitive and real its portrayal of its characters is. With Buck in particular, my sense is that they have been doing on purpose what a lot of shows do accidentally with their macho action hero male leads, which is to deconstruct that role and expose what lies beneath the preformative bravado. And what that is is just a person with hang ups and vulnerabilities like anyone else. He's not uniquely strong and he's also not uniquely damaged, he's just someone trying to figure out who he is and find a place where he belongs.

Looking back on the pilot with what I know now about his past, I think that must have been the first time he's ever really fought for something he cared about (except for Maddie, and I will never get over him continuing to write to her for years even though she never responded, and her keeping the letters). Buck never fully belonged anywhere enough to fight to stay but being a fire fighter and working at the 118 is different.

What I love about his backstory is that although it isn't an inherently queer story - figuring out who you are and where you belong is something almost everyone experiences to some degree - Buck as a queer person who doesn't know it yet does make a lot of sense. I love that the show leaning into that reading of his character resonates so well with what they've already established about him. I love that he already has a community around him that includes queer people, and nobody he has to worry might not support him while it's all still new and uncertain even to himself.

If Buck/Eddie is where the show is going then I know they will do an amazing job with it, because character and relationship development is where this show really shines. And there's a whole other post in why queer Eddie would make sense (bi Eddie makes a lot of sense; at this stage, gay Eddie also makes sense to me and I think there could be a super interesting story in him coming to terms with his complicated feelings about Shannon in light of that realisation). But I also appreciate that the show isn't rushing into a Buddie otp storyline, that it's taking its time with the characters, and I appreciate that this is a show I actually trust to handle queer storylines well.

#911 abc