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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #be forever young

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mister-supernova · 3 years

Text

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies #legacies cw #legacies imagine #legacies x reader

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alluringjae · 3 years

Text

[ 23:45 ] ⮕ END

part of my collection of cookie cuts from all i do is wait

in order to understand, read the main story first here.

pairing: ghost!doyoung x female!reader

genre: angst, sum fluff if you really squint

warnings: death, grief

author’s note: someone asked me how i would interpret this scene, so here it is. this hurt A LOT. have fun though!

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Mid-1953

At long last, the Korean War has ended after 3 years.

Over 5 million people dead, and to be one of the lucky survivors was a miracle.

The remaining soldiers who’ve fought through it all could return home, whilst civilians can properly rebuild all that was devastatingly destroyed in their cities. Their own normal lives included.

The fiercest 3 years of your life must you say, too engaged with self-studying your history books saved pre-war while dealing with the bargaining stage of your grief towards Doyoung. Every day, you couldn’t go on without overthinking the what-ifs. On top of that, your toddler Areum was at the stage where she loved creating a mess on the walls with her crayons. No matter how many times you’ve corrected her because it wasn’t your house, she continued anyway.

Now, she’s full-blown crying after you confiscated them and you’re on the verge of it. Thankfully, your mother stepped in to take her out for a walk in the neighborhood so you could unwind for a bit.

Since news broke out that the war ended, everyone from every street cheered and danced on the streets. You hailed with praise along with them, positive that things were going to get better. Yet deep down, you’ve selfishly wished that he was one of the lucky few to come home.

If only you didn’t chicken out so easily after he told you he was enlisting so you had a few more seconds with him.

If only you compromised him to join another field.

If only you told him about Areum earlier so he could go home.

These thoughts revolved your mind the most, instantly getting you to break down wherever you were. Even photos of him and you together were enough to tear down your walls. So, they remained hidden until the day you’re in a much better state of mind.

Dear god, you longed for him. Everything that consists of him.

In hopes to forget this tremendous loss in your life, you poured hot tea in a cup and started on this new book from this ongoing series, The Chronicles of Narnia. Getting it during this harsh period was tough, bartering it with old books you’ve owned in the market.

Fully preoccupied in the fantastical universe, flipping the pages quickly, you almost missed the continuous knocking on your door. You let out a tiny gasp and made your way to the entrance. As delusional to think it was Doyoung, you knew it wasn’t your mother and Areum either because they would’ve simply walked in. Opening it anyways, you were met by two young tall men. One had a bandage on his cheek while the other had a cast on his right arm. Noting their growing hair, they must’ve fought in the war.

Oh, if Doyoung was one of them.

“Hello, may I know who you two are?”

The one with the bandage spoke up, bowing first. “Hello, I am Lee Taeyong and this is my friend, Kim Jungwoo. We were good friends of your late lover, Kim Doyoung.”

Late lover.

Haven’t heard that since people in the neighborhood gossiped about your taboo pregnancy, but it’s not like they knew anyways. But from the letters exchanged with Doyoung before, he talked about these two highly. Whenever there were times of ease while serving, Doyoung was always up to mischievous things with these two. In a situation where they had to man up, they brought out his inner child.

“Oh, yes! Doyoung used to talk about you two in his letters, but I had no clue how you guys looked.”

By instinct, you invited them inside for tea by the patio. You’ve always wanted to meet them despite the circumstances. Bringing in a tray with a teapot and treats, mostly you were inquiring about their lives. Aside from knowing their positions in the team, you learned of their new plans moving forward.

“I want to return to university to finish my studies in mechanical engineering, maybe travel the world too.” Jungwoo stated, blowing on his cup before sipping it. He’s said to be an organized man according to Doyoung, always cautious of his surroundings. It balanced out his liveliness.

“Me too! I want to complete my major in finance, then marry my childhood sweetheart after a few years.” Taeyong expounded, his round eyes glowed in wonder. He must’ve been looking forward to this day, and you were content for him. Meanwhile, it processed to Taeyong what he said, realizing that it may have been insensitive.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He burst out instantly. “I got stuck in my feelings there.”

“It’s okay, nothing to worry about. You shouldn’t apologize for how you feel.”

“I do think we should feel worried about you though.” Jungwoo interrupted, sighing heavily. “What happened with Doyoung-hyung all those years ago, we’re really concerned for you especially.”

At the mention of the painful memory, this wasn’t the right time to crumble. You weren’t capable to show your vulnerability to anyone but yourself. Plastering a wrenching pretend smile, “I appreciate the concern, truly. But I’ll be okay again. I’m planning to return to university too, then proceed to law school. A shared dream of mine and his.”

Taeyong and Jungwoo transparently viewed you like glass, coping with the grief of it. They were on the same page as you, and unaware to you, they knew his final words. With their interpretation, it only felt right to reach out to you. Befriend you, aid you in any possible way.

At the end of the day, three of you equally shared the suffering over the death of a loved one.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the front door creaked open followed by a tiny, high-pitched voice squealing.

“We’re home!” Your mother shouted.

“I’m at the patio, we have guests over!” You replied, pouring more tea for the two quiet boys.

From such a low-spirited atmosphere only did it liven up when an energetic Areum came into your setting. She had pigtails this time, satisfying herself with fresh bungeo-ppang from the neighborhood. No matter what you’re feeling, it took a single glance of her with her small moon-like eyes to recharge you.

“Mom, who are your friends here?” She pondered cluelessly.

The two boys exchanged looks at each other first, then to you in one breath. Their expressions of perplexity by how one’s hand was on their mouth and the other boy couldn’t stop staring at Areum, you identified exactly what they were thinking of.

“Areum, these are your dad’s friends in the army.” You animatedly confirmed. “The one with that tiny bandage on his face is uncle Taeyong, and the one with the white cast is uncle Jungwoo.”

Doyoung’s death was already so heavy to take in, but upon discovering this hidden surprise, Jungwoo wiped his tears on his sleeve. But you were fast to hand him some tissue. He was younger than you, so your older sister instincts kicked in.

“This is unjust, (Y/N).” He murmured across you so Areum won’t pick up his words. Your lips pressed against each other, maintaining a straight face at him. He was right.

With Taeyong, his arms spread out wide for the small girl who willingly walked to him. He loved children, having a nephew back home. He caressed her smooth hair down to her jaw. The first thing he distinguished was her pretty eyes followed by her squishy cheeks, resembling so much of his late friend.

“You’re so pretty, Areum. Did your mom tell you that you mirror so much of your dad?”

“Yes, she does! But I’ve never met him and I don’t when I will, uncle Taeyong.”

A tragedy how the splitting image of his best friend doesn’t see what everyone sees. But again, she’s only 3 and she can only process so much. She doesn’t know the real truth behind her father’s location, except that he was working far, far away. There are days she’d ask if he’d come back soon, yet your only response is not now. This isn’t the right time for her purity about life to stain.

“Well Areum,” Jungwoo gathered his senses again, crouching down to her level. “As his friends, we know that you look just like him! Prettier even.”

“Really? Tell me more about him, uncle Jungwoo!”

It’s about time someone else shared stories about your late lover because yours was short-lived. It’s even more intriguing to listen to what other people have to say about Doyoung that weren’t his parents. Some stories told by Taeyong and Jungwoo were new to you too, giggling along to their ridiculousness when they’re not training or fighting. Loving their presence, you invited them to stay for dinner with your family, which they couldn’t reject.

What started as a tense conversation transformed into a heartwarming experience. These two boys earned a spot in your life, aspiring for longtime friendships with them. The tender way they cherished for Areum like they’re own after meeting for the first time, it’ll fill in bits of her void. In exchange, they insisted to chip in for you and her lives so it wouldn’t be just you and your family. Struggling already with the consequences of the war, it only felt proper to do so.

“Doyoung has always been there for us, now let us return the favor and be there for you and Areum.”

Your protests were deemed useless, so you allowed them to do so. Once you finished law school and take the exams, you could pay them back. It’s phenomenal how Doyoung’s good influence towards others multiplied even after his passing. Maybe if you began to view things this way, you’d recover sooner. Although he’ll always be in your thoughts, it wouldn’t be as sensitive as it is now.

For now, you’re just going to enjoy the bliss Taeyong and Jungwoo brought, retelling old tales of a drunk Doyoung on the dining table.

From behind your garden fence in secret, Doyoung secretly observed as his treasured companions interacted at last with positivity. His only daughter mirroring his adored smile, he lived in that moment vicariously through her.

What a good time to visit today, truly.

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 3

Part 4

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Talk of blood, murder, Criminal minds stuff.

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites

~~~~~~~~~~

"So what did you find?" Hotch asks, gathering a few pieces of evidence from the table and handing them to Reid to pin onto the bulletin.

"Each of the victims has a needle mark behind their ear, or in the general vicinity. That means our unsub is using sugammadex, more commonly known as Bridion, or some other form of the drug to paralyze them temporarily. Long enough to keep them subdued and do what she intended without them fighting her." Spencer answered for you, turning around after he finished the last bit of pinning the evidence.

"Great work. Reid, get started on that geographical profile while we wait on the others. We may be able to finish this case sooner if we find a little more evidence." Hotch informed as he began to walk out of the room.

Then you remembered the other bit of information. In an attempt to not make a fool out of yourself on your first case, you rushed towards Hotch's moving form and tapped him on the shoulder.

"I-If I may, Hotch, I think our unsub is trying to get back at a specific person. One with short brown hair. Almost military grade." Rushed, you backed away from Hotch a little, giving him back the space you'd just invaded.

Hotch turned around questioningly, nodding to you as an encouragement to continue. "What makes you think that?" He asks.

"Well sir, if you'll look at the second victim, Harrison Graham, you'll see he had long, medium-length hair, correct?" You walk over to Spencer’s evidence board and point out the man's picture.

"His body was found with a buzzed haircut. The ones they give to cadets in the military." You conclude. "I think our unsub lost their partner, or their partner left them alone with a newborn. Which would explain the feedings without a bottle. And this partner is military."

"I didn't even think of that. H-he had a few tattoos as well. Though they were mostly dates, one was the date his daughter was born, and he had another for when he was married." Spencer cut in, finding his own conclusion of the case.

"See if Garcia can find any recently discharged soldiers. Or soldiers who've died in the last three months. We need to be cautious that this man may be dead, and that was the stressor." Hotch orders, nodding to you again. "Keep up the good work."

You nodded back to him and watched him leave, most likely to share the news with the rest of the team.

"How did you know it was military?"

"Hm?" You prompted, looking to Spencer to answer his question. "Oh, uh my friend Gabriel's brothers are military. I used to see them all the time. His brother Raphael never got rid of the cadet hairstyle." You laugh a little, bringing a hand to your face.

Spencer nodded slightly, turning his head back to the evidence board. But truly? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Your laughter was infectious. He didn't know why but he wanted to laugh along. You were beautiful, and he wanted to get a better look.

"Do we have places to stay set up?" He asks again after a moment.

"Why are you asking me?" You ask, laughing softly as he turned his attention back to you.

"Well you were the one so eager to leave and get started. We never got the full briefing." Spencer gave you one of his smart-assed smiles and you groaned.

"Shut up. You know why I wanted to leave so bad." You insist, looking over the map that was untouched so far by pins. "I trusted you." You turned back, giving Spencer a teasing and fake offended look. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, walking over to you.

"Yeah you did. That wasn't a mistake, by the way." He says, making you jump slightly when you feel his breath near your terribly sensitive ears. You feel your body tremble at his now very obvious location.

"O-oh, it wasn't now?" You teased, cursing your nerves silently for your unplanned stutter. Spencer chuckled, and his hand covered the one of your own that had picked up one of the pins.

He didn't speak for a long, and agonizingly drawn out moment. He blinked slowly, laying a hand scarcely on your waist. You felt like shrinking where you stood. What was he doing?

You turned your body and faced the man who currently had your body trapped against a pinnable crime map. His eyes looked over your body, and you could swear he was undressing you with his eyes. You gulped, trying to formulate some sort of response. But what would even fit into the conversation that wouldn't cut the tension so harshly? Hardly anything. At least nothing you could think of.

Finally, as you prepared to try to say something to get an answer out of him, he spoke.

"I believe you're doing my job." He says just audibly for you to hear him. You blink a few times and make multiple attempts to clear your throat. You nod and get out from underneath the tall man's figure.

"R-right, y-yeah, sorry. I should-" you begin to ramble, knowing your cheeks were more red than an apple. You'd have to head off to the bathroom to calm down before you'd be able to face anyone. Morgan would probably tease you.

"I should p-probably go see if I c-can help Prentiss. After all she is the agent I'm shadowing." You say as soon as you were able to get your bearings.

Spencer nodded, having put both his hands into his pockets. But the way he had touched you had made you wonder what it was like for him to really touch you. To hug you, keep a protective arm around your waist, to hold your hand…

"Y-yeah, yeah. Definitely." He says. You nod at him, standing in front of him without moving. After a few more awkward seconds that felt like minutes, you turned your head and promptly left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you felt a rush of adrenaline crash from your senses, making you feel suddenly relieved and unweighted. Although your heart was still pumping faster than a factory machine.

What was this man doing to you?

○●♡●○

You finally had made it into the bathroom, having needed a couple minutes to stand around like a dork and reevaluate what the hell were your feelings.

You hurried to the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing some onto your face. You did this repeatedly until you let out an uncomfortable groan and braced yourself against the sink with your arms.

You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm down whatever was going on in your heart. You tried to focus on it, get the rapid beating and deafening ringing in your ears to cease.

Apparently you were a little too focused, as when you opened your eyes from your little impromptu breakdown, you find yourself not as alone as you had wanted to be.

"...you okay?" Prentiss asked, giving you an uneasy and questioning look. You sigh and turn the water off, running a tired hand through your hair.

"Yeah… yeah I'm fine. Just dealing with one of the headaches that my disorder gives me. They get pretty bad." It was only half a lie. But still, she was a damn profiler. The same as you. She could probably tell something else was up.

"That must suck. I used to get them all the time. Used to get so bad I couldn't focus." She admits, rubbing her neck and chuckling. You were thankful that she didn't press any further. It was totally plausible that she believed you. Hey, if Prentiss bought it, then that was good enough for you.

"Yeah, you kinda get used to it. I find distraction, especially when I'm just doing class work or studying usually helps." You add, feeling your heart find a slow, happy pace that both your mind and your body could manage.

Prentiss nodded as you both grew quiet from your short-lived conversation. Then, as you knew would eventually come up, she spoke.

"So… you sure you're okay? Your cheeks are pretty red. You aren't sick, are you? If you are, don't tell Reid. He'll avoid you like the plague for a week." Emily warned.

"Duly noted…" you whispered softly. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Promise." You insist, hoping that your blush was quickly fading.

"Alright. Well, we're all a family here on our team. And if you're going to be staying, you'll wanna get used to people getting up in your business." She teases. You smile gently back at her.

"Oh I know. It's just first case jitters and stuff. I'm okay. I just embarrassed myself a little, that's all." You lied, glad to see that Prentiss was so willing to back off as soon as she read the room.

"Oh I know that. Just let me know if you need anything. I'm just one door down the hall. At least for this case." You nodded and smiled a bit more warmly.

"Speaking of which, where exactly are we staying? I didn't really stick around to get that information." You admit.

"Yeah you didn't...uh just the hotel down the road, closest to the last crime scene." Prentiss affirms, handing you a key card.

You take it earnestly and pocket it. "Thank you, Emily. Really. Means a lot somebody's got my back."

"Of course. In more ways than one. Though I hope we'll be on a first name basis soon." Emily teased. You chuckle and shake your head.

"I don't just give it out to anyone, Prentiss. But, I promise it'll be soon. As long as I know for sure this is where I wanna be." You rationalize. It was totally believable and not what you really were doing. Trust was something not a lot of people really understood anymore.

"Sounds fair to me. I hope this is the place for you though. If you stay Hotch could sign you onto the team as soon as your application goes through."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's what he did when I arrived. After he read over my application he signed me off to join the team over the rest of the candidates. Good luck." Prentiss says, giving you a quick and final reassuring look before she heads to the door. "You'll do great."

And as soon as you had realized you weren't alone, you were. You sighed and smoothed out your blazer and checked your face for any more signs of your previous interaction with Doctor Reid. Once you were sure you were clear, you turned around and exited the bathroom, finding it to have grown dark.

You grab your bag and sling it over your arm, getting ready to head out as you spot Hotch hurrying from the glass box-like office the map and evidence board was.

"What's going on?" You ask, setting your bag down again.

"There's another body." He alerts, soon exiting the station and leaving you to do so soon after.

○●♡●○

"Zachary Small, he'd just had twins with his wife, Tanya." The chief identified, leading the team towards the body. You grabbed a flashlight from the SUV and shined it over the body as there were no overhead lights.

Hotch pulled one out himself, looking over the wounds that he could see. "Reid, any needle marks?" He asks.

Reid walked around and turned Zachary's head, feeling for a needle track. "Yeah, same place as the last three."

"It looks like his hair was cut too. Based on the photo the station has of him." You interject.

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "How'd you get a photo of him so quick?" He asked.

"Hotch asked Garcia to run for military men. Ones in the town who were either married, recently deployed in the last three months, killed in that same time frame, and recently became fathers. He was one of the men that came up." You explained. Morgan shrugged and pulled back the man's torn shirt.

"Hey, do all the victims have tattoos like this?" Morgan asked.

"No, they were all from different walks of life. I think she's escalating." JJ alerts. Hotch nods.

"If this unsub is murdering surrogates for an absent partner, we can only assume he is alive. We need to find her before he is put in danger. She's getting bolder." Hotch says.

"Any luck on the geographical location, Reid?" Morgan asked.

"Only slightly. I think with this body the comfort zone is within ten miles from here. This city isn't huge, but I think we can still narrow down people in that area of low income." Reid answers.

"Why is that?" Morgan asked.

"Because these drugs aren't cheap. They're not even pharmaceuticals. They're used in hospitals for sedation. We're looking for someone who works in some sort of medical facility." Reid concludes, pulling off his gloves as he gets ready to head back to the station.

"I'll call Garcia." Morgan announces.

You sigh and turn back towards Reid, who was already walking away from you. You were going to have to talk with him about what the hell happened back in the station. But then again, what if you had interpreted it to be something completely different than what he had implied it to be? You were new. You hadn't even been on the job for any more than 18 hours at this point. There was no way he meant any sort of intimacy out of that interaction. Was there?

You shook your head. Now was not the time to question whether or not your new coworker had the hots for you based on one measly interaction. You had a serial killer to apprehend.

"Hey, Mystery Girl, come over here a sec."

You raised an eyebrow and turned to see Morgan waving you over.

"Yeah? You guys need something?" You ask.

"Yeah, you think you could ask Pretty Boy out and save us all the suffering of having to watch you two eye-fuck?" Morgan grinned. You widened your eyes and blushed heavily.

"M-morgan!" You glared at him, your mouth agape in surprise. "Don't tell me you three are in on his little idea!" You insist, looking between Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss who all stood in front of you.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you closer. You growled and looked up at the offender, who currently looked back down at you with a teasing look.

"Come on, Ms. No-name. You can't act like we don't see it. I saw you comin' out of that bathroom after Prentiss did. Boy did you look like a strawberry." Morgan teased, winking at you.

"I don't know what you're insinuating, but I do not like him l-like that. It's not very nice to assume things, Morgan." You insist, huffing as you pushed him off.

"Come on, mama. We're both profilers. You really think I'd be wrong about this kind of thing?" He asked, his eyebrows cocked in a teasing position.

"Do you really think I'd admit it if you were right?" You fire back, letting out an annoyed sigh and storming back to the group of parked SUV's to head back to the station.

○●♡●○

You felt like you haven't slept for days. And truthfully, you hadn't. You had all hit a rut in the case. There were too many suspects and not enough time to interview them all. That and all the information wasn't alluding to anything. It was frustrating.

Not to mention the teasing everyone just HAD to do to you every time a certain Doctor left the room. It was getting on your nerves and quite frankly, it was messing with your ability to work through the information of this case.

You had all given the profile, but no one had called in yet. Garcia was still giving the profile to the medical facilities near the geographical location that Spencer had put together, but nothing was sticking just yet.

"This is confusing…" you huffed, setting the tablet down as you tried to look over all the data again. Thankfully this unsub hadn't gone after another victim yet, that you knew of. But unfortunately that also meant you were stuck unless someone was willing to call and say that their family member fit the profile. Which no one ever was. And they didn't have any leads whatsoever.

"What do you mean?" Reid asked, turning his attention to you after having stared at the map for the past hour with nothing to pin onto it.

"How does this profile not fit anyone? I mean, we talked to the families, asked if they knew any new women who their husbands or partners had in their lives, any old ones. And we even asked the facilities. Nothing. Of course we got a list of names, but it's not short enough to narrow down." You sigh, rubbing your face.

"We might need some fresh eyes." Spencer ponders. You feel your eyelids slowly collapsing, making you pry them back open. Spencer turns as he went to ask you something else. "And some coffee."

You raise your eyebrow and give him a confused look. "Coffee? How is that going to help?" You asked.

"It'll keep us both awake, for one. Mostly you though. What with the three all-nighters you had." He reveals. You widen your eyes and blush. Of course he'd noticed. He was one of the last people to even try to get any rest each night the past couple days. Besides Hotch obviously.

"It…" you sigh. "It's not that bad. I'll sleep on the jet ride back-" you plead, soon to be interrupted by a yawn. When you open your exhausted eyes you're met with a playful pair of amber ones that were connected to a teasing smirk on the Doctor's face.

"I think your body decided that for you. You're body needs approximately 8 to 9 hours a night for your age. Any lack of sleep can lead to sleep deprivation. And that can cause irritability, mood swings, and can deplete your quality of life." He informs, beginning to fill up the coffee pot with water and filling up the machine.

"Yeah yeah. Says the 30 year old doctor." You tease, sending a playful glare towards him.

"Says the 25 year old graduate." He shoots back, smirking at you as he turns around and leans against the counter. "Still, you need to sleep. Even if it's a small amount it can help to recharge your body. Did you know that with enough exhaustion our body has microsleeps? It happens often between blinks and is the body's attempt at charging."

You smile and turn your head to look at him. "Do tell me more, Doctor." You reply groggily, laughing a little at your tone. He smiles at you and chuckles, turning back around to pour you a cup of the newly brewed coffee.

"The reason caffeine helps the body stay awake longer is that it inhibits the body's receptors, and makes us feel more awake for longer than we would without. However caffeine has different effects for different people. As you age, it actually has been proven to make you more tired than you were before you drank it." Spencer continued, carrying over two cups. "How do you take yours?" He asks.

"Hm? Oh, well…" you blush. "I usually just take it with a little cream when I'm trying to stay awake. But my morning stuff is totally different." You say, chuckling as you take the cup from him with a slight nod of thanks.

"How do you take it in the morning?"

You smirk. "I guess you'll just have to find out, Doctor." You tease. "Why don't you and I get some coffee when we get back? We can get some for everyone else too if you want." You offer. You were wary that Spencer might've rejected you if it sounded like a date. So you panicked and added the last sentence soon after.

Thankfully though, a smile pulled onto his face and he nodded. "Sounds good to me."

You smile back at him, finding yourself staring for a few moments. You cleared your throat and looked down a bit in embarrassment.

"I uh… wait…" you paused.

"What?" He asked.

"We kept saying that this unsub couldn't be of the lower class, right?" You asked, standing up and walking toward the map Spencer had recently left to get you your coffee.

"Right." Spencer clarified.

"But what if our unsub is working for an urgent care or-or a long term care facility? Where you only have to get a short period of training done to work there? The pay wouldn't be as good, but it could get our unsub what she needs all the same-" you realize, gasping slightly. You turned back around and faced the map, grabbing a pin as you looked over the neighborhoods in the area Reid had circled.

"Here! There's a low-income neighborhood right around here. It's not any farther than 2 miles from a nearby urgent care. We should cross-reference the residencies with the suspects and see if they live here." You insist, grabbing your phone to call Garcia. Spencer smiled at you and nodded, standing up to alert the rest of the team. Maybe this case wasn't going to be a bust after all.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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spiders-hth-is-an-outlier · 4 years

Text

So... doing my best to speak from my own experience only, I just want to give an example of how identities are constructed categories and why it's not always sensible to assume that standardizing a definition clarifies things or makes them easier.

When I first came out and had contact with The Community, I was in my late teens and it was the early 1990s. So my language and my thinking came from people I considered experts, or at least more experienced, and that mainly meant people whose sense of themselves was forged post-Stonewall and in the heat of the AIDS crisis and, in situations where women predominated, through interaction (positive and negative) with second-wave feminism.

And I didn't have cause to analyze it at the time, because it was water to the fish, but the way we used terms about identity had everything to do at that time with one's commitment, if you will -- to say you were gay, to say you were a lesbian, to say you were here and queer, was perceived as a kind of pledge of loyalty, like a religious conversion. It meant that you were (even if you had to be closeted some of the time) removing yourself to whatever degree possible from the comfortable privileges of full participation in Straightlandia, and instead saying I don't belong with them, I'm coming with you now.

So in a way that I'm sure seems weird to people who never experienced it, there was really no interest in auditing someone's sexual history or the contents of their inner world in order to vet them. You could have slept with 700 men and married five of them, but if you said you were a lesbian now, you just kind of were, because that wasn't seen as a statement about your past, but about your future behavior. You had "changed teams," and everybody just kind of groked that and didn't question it.

I think when you understand that, it's easier to understand certain other things, like where a lot if intra-community biphobia comes from. Because self-identifying as bisexual was conflated with refusing to join the team, with lack of commitment. When your sexual identity isn't really built out of the sum of your thoughts and actions, but out of your promise to stay and share your life experiences with others like you -- insisting that you were bisexual (and I say this as someone who is! and did!) sounds like "idk, man, we'll see."

This expectation that belonging to the community meant surrendering Straightlandia, and that bisexuals were choosing not to choose, did help create the tight container of mutual aid that helped the queer community survive the rocky decades of learning how to exist visibly while half of us were actively dying, but it wasn't actually great for bisexual people, or at least for those of us who did feel committed and did want to be clear that we were in it for the long haul. It was tough to navigate with the language and the ideas we were given, and what very frequently happened is that we just kind of... got old enough to start pairing up, and we started using the language of whatever group we'd thrown in our future fortunes with.

So you'd have women who say they're straight, who think and feel straight, but if you get them talking, they'll tell you they dated women at one point, and actually their first heartbreak was this girl in high school, or whatever. But that's the past to them; it doesn't bear on what they see in their future, so it's not how they identify now. Or you have women who've been in lesbian relationships for ages, who are perceived by their neighbors and co-workers and family and friends as lesbians, who just kind of -- stopped relating to their younger bisexual selves and started perceiving themselves as gay. Because that's how we learned it, you know? Your queerness is about settling in where you belong, life-wise, and then that life forms your felt identity.

And now it's very different. Now the expectation is that you begin internally, by analyzing your subjective feelings, and you identify them: you feel this way sexually about women, this way romantically about men, this way about the genderfluid, all these infinite shades of perception and reaction. You locate the word that most accurately describes the shape of your experiences as a whole, and that's your identity, the thing you feel most like. And then that felt identity shapes whether or not you belong to the community, whether you "get to" go to Pride or whatever (I assure you, in the 90s it never occurred to us that straight people would perceive attending Pride events as a treat we were withholding from them).

(By the way, I'm framing this as generational because I think it is to some degree, but there's no such thing as a monoculture, and even in the US, which is what I'm describing, there are still parts of the community, particularly in conservative locations and I think particularly in mostly male communities, where the dominant understanding of identity still is this "older" model of loyalty-first, of disinterest in the details of your past so long as you have your teammates' backs.)

And I think -- on balance, it's an improvement. Letting people just be bisexual their whole lives long is way better for a lot of reasons, and has additionally been good for the community -- it might challenge some people to relate to the heterosexually-paired as Teammates, but keeping the energy and wisdom of people who were once expected to retire their gay gun and badge has added to our numbers and diversity.

It does mean that there's a certain culture now of trying to force people to match their experiences to The Correct Definitions, and I notice a depressing number of people questioning others, or even worse themselves, over whether they really qualify as X based on things they've said or done before. That looks ugly to me, and it makes me long for the days of being able to say, whatever, the past is the past, let them focus on who they're going to be going forward.

But then, our pasts really don't disappear, and I don't miss back when people were kind of expected to pretend that the person they were and the people they loved at 24 stop counting for anything at some point. Life is complicated, life is a flow of constant changes, but we should get to keep our pasts. They're ours. And of course, even if you've never loved anyone at all, you can experience your mind and heart as queer (or as whatever other word feels good to you) -- I think that's a powerful insight that would have been entirely alien to me 25 years ago, but it's true.

Anyway, I think what I'm saying is that life is not an infographic, and people fit words to their life stories not according to strict and objective dictionary definitions, but based on social and ideological factors that construct the categories we move inside. And people who use words in ways that don't make sense to you are maybe coming from a whole worldview that's opaque to you, and maybe learning who they are is key.

(This is not a post about why it's okay to say that Eliot Waugh is gay even though he's been known to enjoy sex with women, but it could be? Like, if that's what you get out of it, you're not wrong.)

#queerness

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blackaquokat · 4 years

Text

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 1)

Fandom: A Heist with Markiplier/Who Killed Markiplier

Pairing: Prison Attorney (Yancy x Y/N District Attorney)

Summary: In which circumstances occur and the assistant district attorney ends up in the same prison as a certain inmate who might be their only chance at survival.

A/N: Yes, it’s been months. I’m sorry. I had trouble finishing the last chapters so I put off posting it, because I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging if I never finished, and then I got hit with a major bout of depression regarding my writing and a bunch of other stuff in my life.

But, I’m feeling a lot better about myself and my writing, so I thought I’d share what I did have of this fic. Yes, this is the same nonbinary DA from my other series. Please let me know what you guys think!

Many thanks to @timelords-13

---

It’s unthinkable. Except that it isn’t, because it happened.

You’ve been framed for a crime you didn’t commit.

And the frame job is good. Enough to have you arrested. Enough to taint what little good reputation you’d cultivated in the city as a public servant working under the District Attorney.

But not good enough to convince your closest friend.

“Listen,” Damien reassures you, just before you’re hauled off to prison, “Don’t worry, we won’t leave you in there. I’m on this, Mark is on this—”

“Why should I be reassured that your B-list actor friend is interested in my case?”

Damien rolls his eyes. “I understand your doubt, but Mark is well-connected, my friend. His social capital rivals mine. I’m sure he can get a dedicated detective interested in clearing your name.”

“Why do you expect me to trust Mark’s judgment in detectives—”

“My friend, retain some of your optimism, or at least have some faith in me, please? And, listen, while you’re in prison, Make. Friends. Or alliances, at least. You’re going to need someone to keep you alive.”

“What, you don’t think I can look after myself?”

You knew he was right, he is right, but if you didn’t give him a little bit of a hard time like you normally would, you would have lost what little cool you’re retaining.

And so here you are. Being escorted into prison. A non-white, not-quite-male prosecution lawyer.

Great. Just great.

And apparently your reputation precedes you. Once you’ve been processed and properly stripped of almost all your personal possessions (you managed to sneak a picture of your mother into the pocket of your jumpsuit), you find yourself shoved into the outside yard and on the receiving end of stares from just about every prisoner milling about.

Your natural prickly bravery is warring with your fear of being in a place like this with no chance of protection. You find the most uninhabited corner of the yard and lean against the fence, hands in your pockets. Touching the photo in your pocket helps to ground your pounding heart.

Make friends. Easy for Damien to say. He’s not the one with the personality of a housecat only slightly used to human interaction, but that’s what happens when you dare to go against the status quo from the get-go and refuse to take shit from anyone about it.

The big difference between you and Damien is in your political approaches. Damien is transparent, kind, honest, and has enough social capital that the entire city adores him. Even the tabloids don’t dare to trash his reputation and any attempts to do so have fallen flat.

You, on the other hand, are far more cutthroat and firm in your approach. You emphasize justice and cracking down on the criminal element in the city, but you don’t leave out corrupt officials either. You’ve put just as many white collar criminals away as blue collar, and you’ve done so without any particular bias. You’ve created the reputation of an incorruptible crusader, but not someone who pursues a case without being absolutely sure the perp is guilty.

Hence your cynicism about the likelihood of anyone liking you enough to a) keep you alive here in a prison full of criminals you prosecuted or b) clear your name and get you out of prison in the first place.

“Hey!”

You immediately tense up. Please don’t be talking to me, please don’t be talking to me—

“Hey, you’re the attorney that put me in here!”

Jesus Crucified Christ.

You make eye contact with the guy approaching you and, sure enough, you recognize him. A former gang member who’d taken a side job as a human trafficker. Who’d have thought even gangs looked down on that sort of thing? It was thanks to the gang leader himself that this guy was charged in the first place.

“Trent Newman,” you greet nonchalantly. “Long time, no see.”

Newman’s eyes narrow dangerously. He moves toward you like he’s got a shiv in his pocket. What’s the turnover on dead guards and prisoners here? You’ve tried to find out in the past, but the Warden who’d earned the nickname “Murder-Slaughter” didn’t exactly have an open book policy into the kind of prison he ran.

“Well, looks like my luck is turning around!” His hand reaches into his pocket. Shit. Sometimes you hate it when you’re right. “I’ve got something I’ve wanted to give to you since the trial, and now I’ve got my chance!”

You move slowly into a defensive position. Getting shivved on Day One of your prison stint won’t look good for you. “You sure you want to do this now, Newman? With the guards around? With this many witnesses?”

“Do I look like I care?” Newman spits back.

“Well, youse should, shouldn’t ya?”

Newman whirls around and your attention focuses on the guy who just popped up behind him. This inmate has multiple tattoos on his neck and arms, and the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his biceps.

“But, c’mon, Boss, this ain’t just any criminal, this is an attorney, this is the attorney—”

“I thought I told you, Newbie Newman. No one gets shivved here without my knowin’ ‘bout it. So why don’t youse go occupy youself elsewhere whilst I welcome our new guest?” This guy’s tone is casual enough, but only an idiot would miss the outright threat underlining his words.

Newman is an idiot, but he’s not that clueless. He tosses one last glare your way before storming off.

Once Newman is gone, this guy saunters up to you with all the confidence of someone who’s been here for too many years to count. “I’ve heard of youse, I think. You’re that big-time attorney somebody, huh? I’ve got quite a few inmates here who’ve got youse to thank for their residence.”

This isn’t off to a promising start, delayed shivving notwithstanding. You wait for him to get to his point.

He inclines his head at you. “Not much of a talker, huh? That’s fine. I loves to chat it up. The names Yancy, by the by.” He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. There looks to be a pack of cigarettes stuffed into his rolled up sleeve. “So, what are youse doin’ in here? Get a little tired of following that justice book of youse’s? Take a bribery from the defense? Get a little snort of the good stuff?”

“Frame job,” you answer, against your better judgment.

“So you finally snapped and framed a guy? Can’t say I’m surprised, you lawyer types—”

“No, I was framed,” you correct. You’re not sure why. It’s not like it will matter to this guy.

Yancy’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Is that right?” When you don’t respond, he leans forward, his eyes squinting at you. “So you tellin’ me youse innocent, then?”

Your brow lifts at him in response. “Would you believe me if I did say that?”

Yancy blinks at you like a baffled cat. He leans even closer, sniffs a few times, and straightens away from you. “Yes, yes I think I could. What were youse framed for?”

Wait? What? Does guilt smell like something? Your arms cross over your chest. “Uh, well, I don’t have any proof on me—”

“This ain’t the kinda place lookin’ for proof, just get on with youse’s tale, huh?”

Well then. This wasn’t exactly how you expected to tell your life story for the first time. This day is already shaping up to be far different from your expectations.

“Another attorney at the office was on the take. Connor Smith.” His office nickname had been “Pit-stain,” but that’s not exactly pertinent to your story. “Leaking information and taking bribes from another public official that I’m pretty sure is embezzling from the charity he’s running. Maybe even funding the new drug empire in the city. I only had been investigating off the books for a week before Smith ended up dead, and the police found evidence implicating me.”

Yancy listens to all of this quietly, nodding along and stroking his chin with two fingers. “I see, I see…” Then he shrugs. “Well, that’s unfortunate for youse, but hey, life’s an unfair bowl of cream, ain’t it? So, while you get comfortable in youse’s cell, I can show youse the ropes of this place—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you interrupt. “You’re making it sound like I’m never getting out.”

Yancy blinks at you again. “Well, why would youse wanna leave?”

Is he...is he serious? “Why would I want to stay in a prison full of inmates who want me dead?”

“What, like that jackass Newman?” Yancy scoffs. “Look, Gorgeous, many of youse’s arrests are happy to be here. No water bills, hooch wine, no nine-to-five job eating their mind away.” He clicks his tongue and winks. “What more could you ask for?”

Well for starters, you’d like wine not made out of toilet water, but that’s not the point right now. “My freedom, maybe? Because I’m innocent?”

“Hey, what makes you think I’m not innocent myself?”

“Are you?”

“No, but it’s the principal of the thing, ya know? Innocent until proven guilty, and all that nonsense!”

You can’t help it. You laugh. This is so goddamn surreal, and you’re still utterly baffled that this is your life for the foreseeable future. Your laughter catches Yancy off guard and you wave your hand dismissively. “You’re right, you’re right. Still, I think I’ll focus on staying alive until my name is cleared.”

Yancy’s eyes narrow at you again. “What, you think you’re too good for this place, is that it?”

The anger in his voice is confusing. “No? I just...have…” You shrug helplessly. “I have people I need to get back to.”

The anger leaks out of Yancy’s posture as a look of understanding comes over his face. “Ah, I see! Youse gotta piece on the outside, huh? Well, Gorgeous, that’s what conjugal visits are for, I don’t see why that would hold youse up—”

“No, God, no, that’s not what I meant. I mean...ugh, fine.” Against your better judgment, again, you pull your mom’s picture out of your pocket and show Yancy. It’s one of the few you have of the both of you together. Happy. Smiling.

Much to your horror, Yancy yanks the picture right out of your grip. “Hey!”

He skips out of your reach without taking his eyes off of your mom’s image. “Youse the family type, huh, is that it?”

You snatch the picture out of his hand and stuff it back into your pocket. “What if I am?”

“Hey, no need to act all defensively there, Gorgeous,” Yancy reassures. There’s a glint of...something in his eyes. You’d dare to call it regret if you didn’t know better. “But lemme tell you what I’ve learned since coming here, yeah?” He leans in just close enough to make you uncomfortably aware of his soapy smell. The last person to be this physically close to you was Damien. “You’ll forget about youse’s familial bonds soon enough. The past doesn’t survive within these walls, you hear?”

He pulls away from you just as the prison bell rings and you suddenly feel like you can breathe again. “Anyways, you’ll change youse’s mind soon enough. Once you forget about your worries and strife, youse’ll fit right into this luxurious place.”

The man jogs inside with a gang of inmates surrounding him before you can respond.

You don’t see Yancy again until breakfast the next morning.

After a night of anxious sleep on the bunk underneath the cellmate who barely spoke two words to you (you’re pretty sure this is another criminal you condemned in court), you weren’t really sure what to expect at mealtime. You came in long after dinner the day before and your conversation with Yancy left you wrongfooted for many reasons.

(Of course, first things first, you have to deal with the public showers. Hopefully that’ll be the worst part of this experience.)

You settle at a corner table all by yourself. Breakfast consists of a runny but hot oatmeal and a small carton of milk. Your appetite is nonexistent, but seeing as the food situation might not improve anytime soon, you take small bites anyway. You can’t afford to let your strength wane from hunger.

“Are you the framed lawyer?”

You almost choke on your oatmeal as you spin around in your seat and see a giant of a man standing behind you, his forearms crossed. There’s a spider web tattoo on his bald head and a long bushy beard on his chin. “I...might be?”

He nods and sits next to you. The seat creaks underneath him. He pulls a fork out of the pocket of his jumpsuit and takes a giant bite out of your oatmeal. “Boss told me to make sure no one bothers you. The name’s Jimmy.”

By “boss” does he mean Yancy? Why the hell would Yancy bother with giving you a personal guard?

“...oh. Thanks?”

Jimmy nods gravely. “I do what the boss tells me. He’d be here himself, but he had business to tend to with the warden.”

You have nothing to say to that, so you continue eating your oatmeal and continue to just let Jimmy eat off your plate. He asks for your milk carton and you hand it off without a word.

It’s not until breakfast is about to end that the man of the hour himself appears. “G’morning, g’morning, Legal Eagle!” Yancy greets. “How are you and Jimmy the Pickle here getting along?”

“They gave me their milk!” Jimmy reports with a toast of your milk carton.

“Oh, a generous lawyer?” Yancy looks you up and down. “First one to come to this place. That’ll be all, Jimmy, thank you.”

When Jimmy goes to leave, turning back one last time to smile at you with a wave of the milk carton, Yancy takes his place the next seat down from you, feet coming up to rest in the space between the two of you.

“Dare I ask why you assigned me a bodyguard?” Suspicious as you are, you try to convey through tone that you have no problem with having one.

“Can’t have a new inmate die right off the bat, now can I?” Yancy pulls a bread roll out of his pocket and tosses it to you. You catch it in surprise. “Casts a bad look on me. No one dies here without my say-so.”

You take a bite out of the bread roll. It’s a little stale, but it’s much preferable to the oatmeal. “So I’m more useful to you alive right now?” You’re not offended. At this point, you’ll take what you can get until you’re released from Happy Trails Penitentiary.

“You could say that.” Yancy blows a loose strand of hair out of his face. “I was just talking to the warden about your cellmate situation.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” the bell rings, signalling the end of breakfast, and Yancy winks as he swings his feet off and hurries away again, “you’ve got a new one, of course!”

You don’t think much of this until that evening. In the meantime, your first job is in the kitchens washing dishes. There’s a pleasant routine to doing a chore you’re familiar with. The guard in charge of this job is more than terrifying, but he leaves you alone once he sees how quick and efficient you are. (You’re not so naive as to forget that prison guards can be even more dangerous than the inmates.)

Jimmy plops next to you again at lunch and your time in the yard passes, miraculously, without incident.

When it’s time to return to your cell for the night, you see an unfamiliar pair of legs dangling from the top bunk. Then you see the face at the other end of the body.

“What,” you begin with no small amount of suspicion, “the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m sure I have no idea what youse talkin’ about, Legal Eagle,” Yancy (because of course it is) responds in a too-innocent voice.

Looks like that nickname is sticking. Great.

“Listen,” Yancy continues when he sees that you’re not at all convinced at this ‘coincidence’ that has taken place not even twenty-four hours after your arrival. “Like youse said. There are plenty of inmates here who’d like to see you dead. I can hold off most of them, no problemo. But a few are just whack job enough to be out of my hands. They barely listen to the warden, let alone me. Henceforthing, I say that the best bet is to keep an eye on youse myself. I’m a rather busy bee durin’ the daytime, so I’ll be takin’ the night shift, I will.”

He shifts around the bunk until his top half is dangling upside down, right in front of your face. “Unless you’d rather someone sneak in at night and stick ya in youse sleep.”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you retort. “But why put in this much effort to protect a new inmate, and more than that, a prosecuting attorney?” A thought occurs to you and your eyes widen. “Wait. Do you...do you know something about my case?”

Even upside down, Yancy’s face is inscrutable. “I guess you’ll have to figure that out for youself, don’t ya, Gorgeous?” He lifts himself back onto the bed and crosses his ankles. “Why don’t you get some rest, huh? The guard in charge of the kitchens doesn’t take too kindly to cranky inmates who don’t appreciate the work they’ve been given.”

You stand there, glaring at him, for another several seconds before dropping to the floor and doing fifty push-ups. Because you didn’t do your usual twenty-five last night and also because you’re not just going to take this guy’s word as gospel. You’ll wait until he’s asleep first before getting to bed.

Thank you for reading! Please relbog/comment! If you want to be tagged/untagged for the rest of this series or this pairing, please leave a message in my inbox!

Link to Chapter 2 is here!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @scribbeetle , @its-dari , @neverisadork , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @wildfandom , @shrinkthisviolet , @purple-anxiety-blog , @conceitedink , @skidspace

#kat writes #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #ahwm yancy #prison attorney #y/n district attorney #wkm #please guys #i need feedback on this one

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sol-korolevas · 4 years

Text

—haunted house tour, part i

pairing: pillars x reader

summary: it’s the season of the witch and you’re invited to take a tour of a haunted estate by your friends.

warning: none

words: 2k+

note: a long overdue halloween fic that was originally a super spicy sanemi story with no plot whatsoever. then i decided to incorporate a few of the other pillars so a monster fic was born. i had so much fun writing this and there will be a part 2 coming soon so please enjoy! my inbox is open for requests.

someone managed to convince everyone that the western tradition of halloween was a fun social event that could boost morals. while a fun event was an indisputable fact, you’re not quite sure if it will boost morals. for starters, the pillars themselves were partaking in the event as individual monsters they’ve picked out from a book that were imported from overseas.

shinobu was in charge of decorating an empty estate, alongside aoi and the butterfly girls. however, shinobu wanted to be a witch, so during the evenings, you saw her wearing a large pointed hat that looked a bit big for her small head. from what sumi said, she even hand painted the marks of a witch onto her face. the craftsmanship was so well-done that you thought shinobu had contracted warts.

“maybe i should paint something on your face too?” her soft voice couldn’t hide the vein that’s pushing upwards underneath the skin of her forehead. “you and everyone else who’ve asked me this question!” her lipstick-stained mouth twitched upward into a grin that hid malevolence underneath, causing you to shrink back and excuse yourself.

when the night of the haunted house tour arrived, you were the only person who wanted to go as a single. everyone else went as groups of three or more. when tanjiro and his friends came out, you noticed the immediate reactions. while inosuke insisted on going inside so he could fight everyone, zenitsu was dragging him back, while crying over the horrors within the building. tanjiro, on the other hand, seemed to be the only one who enjoyed it.

“where’s nezuko?” you asked, noticing the absence of the demon girl.

“she’s part of the attraction with the others,” tanjiro replied, beaming with pride. “we got a good glimpse of her, but i think she’s trying a little too hard to be scary.” the last of tanjiro’s words came out in a whisper. he then waved at you, just as both inosuke and zenitsu started tugging at his arms. “you enjoy the house, okay?”

once the butterfly girls came out, sniffling and laughing at the same time, it was your turn. you handed murata your ticket and he beckoned you in.

the first thing you noticed was the sheer darkness of the interior, followed by the subtle scent of wisteria flowers flowing through the air. you knew that the estate was a bit far away from the other buildings, so they put wisteria incense around to deter potential demons from slipping in. according to the people who already went, the path was just a one-way destination. after you finish, you go around the building and collect a wisteria pouch for your trip down.

when you enter the first room, you noticed that you’re face to face with a well placed in the very center. it didn’t look real enough to be one so you suppose it must be made from scratch materials. nothing else was in the room, though you notice a thin mist covering the bamboo floor.

the only logical thing to do was to interact with the well. steeling yourself, you made your way up and gazed into it.

“boo.” muichirou popped up, dressed in the clothing of the dead as he dropped a white ceramic plate onto the floor. he looked absolutely emotionless, perhaps even bored. when you didn’t react, he propped his chin on his arm and tilted his head. “strange,” he said softly, “everyone else was shocked and scared.” then, looking embarrassed, he sunk down into the well again.

for a moment, you were left startled by the suddenness of muichirou’s appearance. you’ve never thought of him to be an easily embarrassed type, so you felt guilty for not pretending to be scared. you walked over to the well’s entrance, seeing him adjusting his accessories within the darkness, and said, “you did a good job!” there was silence, before you distinctly heard muichirou’s voice respond with a ‘thanks.’

moving on, you trudged through a hallway lit with lights behind partition doors. the way they made it look like some of the lights were floating, but you noticed the people behind, moving the lights themselves. shrugging, you continued until you felt someone pushing you into a room. “from now on, random monsters will come and try to scare ya!” the voice said, muffled by a fabric covering their entire face.

and they were right, because for a short duration, multiple people covered in make up and cot sheets were jumping out from room and oddly placed furniture. they each attempted to grab at you, only for your hand to automatically come up and slap them lightly. soon, you began muttering more apologies than actually being scared. fortunately later on, the people started dwindling until you found yourself in another room.

the second room you were in was lit with individual lights of orange, red, and yellow. someone had brought in thick wax candles that were carved to look like ghoulish faces. you also saw two fake western pumpkins perched behind a group of candles, no doubt the brainchild of someone from shinobu’s estate. despite the wisteria scent still hovering in the air, you noted a vague smell that lurked underneath.

suddenly, mist poured forth in thick waves. a shape appeared, before it slowly lumbered over to you. their hands were stretched out, as if vying to grab hold of something. you then saw the paper talisman hanging off of their face and the mane of fiery hair underneath the hat.

“rengoku?”

your heart hammered with excitement as you watched rengoku amble towards you. a groan escaped his mouth, before he stopped, body frozen in mid-walk. “[name], you’re supposed to run around the room!” he quickly said in a whisper. then, he was back at walking, now hunching forward as he made his way around the room. frequently, he would shift his body towards you, but you stood there, stifling a laugh and body unable to move.

instead, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around rengoku’s midsection, giggling. he froze then, arms sagging as he dropped his gaze to you. a faint breeze from your movement lifted a portion of the paper talisman upwards. through the tiny amount of light, you noticed that rengoku’s face was in shock—and if you dare to say—with darkening cheeks. but the shock coming from rengoku subsided and soon you felt two hands cupping your cheeks, gently lifting your head up.

“you’re quite a troublesome victim, [name]!” he said, voice bright and cheerful as always. in response to his comment, you stuck your tongue out before waltzing back.

“next time, i think you should be more fast and really grab someone!” you replied, holding your hands behind your back. “i wasn’t scared at all, not when you look so nice in that outfit.”

rengoku laughed, but you knew he was feeling more than happy on the inside. he then waved at you, just as the lights flickered off. now, it was time for you to leave his room and move on to the next attraction.

upon stepping into another corridor, you smelled the faint scent of something sweet. coupled with the wisteria scent that drifted through, it felt more like stepping into an oiran’s room. you also noticed that this hallway was a bit brighter than the last, with colorful decorations that were most liely imported from overseas, and some fake flowers that lined the walls. you pondered about staying here for a moment, just to gaze at everything, before you heard someone cough and whisper for you to go on to the next room.

before you could slide open the door, mitsuri came out, dressed in fake ears and several fake fox tails. she was absolutely giddy about something, but it wasn’t her expression that caught your surprise. no, it was the desserts that were placed on a long table behind her. none of these desserts were the same and some were even new to you.

“hello [name]! welcome to my banquet!” she said, holding your hand as she took you to the table. “i made most of these, but sanemi made the ohagi and—oh! he was here a moment ago, but i guess he went off to prepare for his room.” briefly, mitsuri looked disappointed before she perked up and tugged at the sleeve of your uniform. “but don’t worry your cute face, i’ll make sure to feed you well!”

“feed me?” you said, taken aback by the drastic change. however, you were feeling hungry and the temptation of sweets tugged at your mind. so before long, you were eating, with mitsuri piling more on your plate every time it goes empty. while doing so, mitsuri was talking about her room. she wanted a more western themed banquet that aligned with halloween, so everything was made to look like some type of spooky creature and item.

“i must say, sanemi was really good with reshaping those ohagi so they looked like cats, but i wouldn’t put it past him, he’s good with his hands after all!” mitsuri squealed and clapped her hands to her cheeks. she’s gushing about all of the pillars and non-pillars while you shove food into your mouth. suddenly, you heard the familiar sound of a snake’s hissing and accompanying footsteps.

“ah, iguro!” mitsuri said, moving to sit next to you. she then embraced you from the side, pulling you so close to her chest that you felt heat rushing into your cheeks. when you saw him, you almost choked on your food. wrapped around him was a fake cobra made from paper, but it looked so realistic that you thought it could’ve been breathing.

iguro looked at mitsuri first, then his eyes turned to you. “hurry up, you’re taking precious time away from us.” he was leering down at you, but you only swallowed your food and offered iguro your plate without saying a word. instead of decisively turning away, iguro stepped back. “..i didn’t say you can share your food with me!” he then turned around, but not before muttering ‘idiot’ under his breath.

“oh stop that, [name] was being nice!” mitsuri said, plucking a small onigiri off of your plate, before throwing it into her mouth. “iguro wants to join us, right?” there was a teasing tone in her words and you were certain iguro noticed. but in the next moment, he was sitting directly besides you. you were now sandwiched between both love and snake pillar, an d their close contact was making you shift with a fluttering sensation inside your ribs.

“here, a gift,” iguro said gruffly, showing you a sock puppet with eyes made of flat stones and a smile painted crookedly by hand. you set your plate on your lap, before mitsuri reached over and took it from you. you then slid the puppet onto your hand and played around with it.

“thank you! it’s lovely,” you said, “you’re really good at making these, you should show me how to do it later.” you saw iguro cross his arms against his chest, but all you heard was a grunt as he turned his head away. mitsuri was cooing at the leftover food, which she was too busy fawning over while eating. noting how much time you’ve already spent in this room, you then stood up and thanked both for their individual hospitality, sock puppet still on your hand.

“oh don’t mind us, we’re just looking out for our cutest member,” mitsuri said with a light giggle. she then stood up and lightly pushed you out of the door on the other side of the room. then, leaning in, she added, “he may not look like it, but i think iguro likes you a lot! and watch out for the dog up ahead.” just when you were about to turn around, mitsuri plants a kiss on your temple.

you felt yourself inhaling a deep breath, cheeks now hotter than ever. throwing your gaze back, you saw mitsuri watch you leave, hands clasped together. she wasn’t hiding her face nor did she look embarrassed, so you began to wonder if, perhaps—

but your thought was quickly pulled away when you felt someone lift you up off the ground. a small whimper escaped your throat as you feel them move, your legs hovering uselessly off the ground. but you sensed no malice from this person, so instead of fighting you close your eyes.

after all, this was still part of the attraction right?

#kimetsu no yaiba #muichiro tokito #rengoku kyoujurou #kanroji mitsuri #obanai iguro #shinazugawa sanemi #giyu tomioka #shinazugawa genya

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cole-grey-writes · 5 years

Text

The Boyfriend

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Captain America: The First Avenger

Character(s): Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Pairing(s): Stucky x Male Reader

Warning(s): none

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes grow close during the war. And then, you meet Bucky’s boyfriend.

A/n: not a request but I made this for @lucifvgous because I saw their post about stucky x reader and I feel the same… so here you go, to all those with no stucky x male reader love. And pls send in more requests, I would love to write more!

For a hardheaded, distant and seemingly cold Sergeant who’s just there to do his job, Bucky maybe just a little more cuddly than you thought he was going to be. You don’t mind, though. Good touch is few and far between on the battlefield. It’s hardly, well, hard for you to lay in the arms of another man, given your past before the war.

It was awkward and stilted in the beginning but that you got over it quickly. There is no room for pride in a war. It’s either find warmth in the arms of your comrades or freeze to death.

It started when the first snow fell and the first wind sent goosebumps up the soldiers’ arms instead of cooling off their sweaty, sticky skin. All the soldiers silently pick out their sleeping partners for the upcoming winter nights. Everyone, except you.

You sit alone at night on your springy cot, shivering inside your thin, army regulated clothes, leaning against a wood post that keeps the tent from collapsing while everyone around you slept (or at least trying to). Everyone else is wrapped in each others arms, but all your friends are either already with a partner or dead so you’re left alone.

You open one of your eyes to the sound of shuffling from the tent flap. You watch Bucky walk into the tent, which isn’t unusual given his late night walks. You always watch him walk off into the woods surrounding the camp as soon as dinners over and you and everyone else never stop him. You and the other boys silently understand that everyone has their own way of dealing with the violence and trauma. All you and anyone else know is that Sergeant Barnes is back in his tent come morning.

Which is the reason you’re not surprised to see your Sergeant awake so late.

You close your eyes again as you try and fail to fall asleep.

“Private,” Bucky says, catching your attention. You open your eyes again, surprised. Bucky is distant, usually keeps to himself. He's the quiet, silent type around camp. He never interacts much with the other soldiers, save for the times he gives out orders to his privates. You’re very surprised to see your Sergeant making an effort to talk to you off the battlefield.

“Sergeant,” you respond back.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you tell him, biting your lip as soon as it’s out of your mouth. If there’s one thing any private can’t do, it’s talk back to their superior, especially if your superior is Bucky. You saw what happened to the last guy that tried and obviously didn’t get away with it.

Bucky raised his eyebrows.

You wince and look away. “Can’t sleep, too cold,” which makes Bucky nod.

You think it’s done with but apparently it’s not because Bucky comes over and bends down. He sits with you on your cot, the springs creak against his weight.

“Scoot over.”

You raise your eyebrows, confused, but you do what you’re asked. Bucky settles in bed next to you and you face each other. You’re able to feel Bucky’s breath on your face, his body heat through his clothes that are soaked with cold. You can see all the details of Bucky’s grey eyes, and also the dark bags under Bucky’s eyes. You can’t help but wonder when the last time he slept was.

Neither of you say anything for a few seconds.

And then Bucky puts his arms around your waist and pulls you against him. You face is suddenly in his neck, chests flush and legs tangled together. You blush, kinda glad Bucky can’t see your face right now.

“Get some sleep,” Bucky tells you, his mouth right up against your ear. You wonder why you never noticed how sweetly deep and soft his voice is.

You put those thoughts away and do as Bucky tells you.

That’s how it started. You and Bucky stick close together after that night. It’s actually kind of funny, you could hardly imagine the faces of the other soldiers in your tent when they woke up that morning and found you and their Sergeant wrapped around each other. But, it’s also a relief because some of the other soldiers sometimes choose to pick on you given that you didn’t have many friends left. That stopped pretty much immediately after you and Bucky became cuddle buddies.

Things grow with Bucky. Sometimes either of you are sitting too close to be considered normal, even when it wasn’t cold. You lay in each others arms after particularly gruesome days. When you look over sometimes, Bucky’s looking at you, too, in some type of way. Bucky also always looks incredibly guilty, which you understand. You don’t like it, but you understand.

You’re more than comfortable in your own skin at this point in your life, even if society wants nothing to do with you and your people. If Bucky's still feeling guilty about his feelings towards other men, so much so that he doesn’t seem to be out to himself, then you weren’t going to be the one to draw it out of him.

And then your regiment was captured. You were trapped in chains after cell after cage and were constantly separated from Bucky. You were really worried about him and your remaining friends, Gabe and Morita, were always trying to get you to confess your worries to them. You were never able to tell them.

Then, there was a miracle.

Everyone was saved by this guy, called himself ‘Captain America’ whatever that meant. He marched right into the camp in Italy with nothing but a fake shield (moron) and beat up all the nazis and rescued everyone.

You don’t know who this Captain America guy is, but you think he’s a real good guy and were thankful he saved you and your fellow soldiers’ lives. Captain America’s real name is actually Steve Rogers and you know this because Bucky found you after not even an hour back at camp and dragged you to introduce you to each other.

You and Steve look at each other, equally confused. Then, you and Steve look at Bucky where Bucky is looking back and forth between you and Steve. Bucky’s face is contorting in a weird secret grin, looking as if he’s trying to hold back a smile that would stretch across his entire face.

You and Steve share a look.

Neither of you know what Bucky’s up to, but you both can see that meeting each other is obviously exciting him. You both can see clear as day that Bucky wants you two to like each other, so you both silently agree to be friendly.

You stretch out your hand. “Y/n L/n.”

“Steve Rogers.”

The rest of the interaction is only slightly awkward. Bucky makes his exit with a quick and vague explanation of tents, food, or unpacking. Or maybe all three.

You and Steve stand awkwardly next to each other. You stutter and ask, “So, uh, how do you and Bucky know each other?”

“We grew up with each other,” Steve answers quietly.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s cool.”

“So,” Steve stutters himself, “how did you and Bucky meet?”

“Oh, um, we met during battle,” you tell him, knowing that it sounded cool to only those who’ve never been in battle before. “My, uh, my Captain was killed and he had to take over.”

Steve says a strained, “oh,” and then, “that’s cool.” You smile awkwardly at your feet and sigh.

Bucky’s eager face flashes through your mind over and over again. You know he really wants you and Steve to be friends, so you figure you should make more of an effort than this, for Bucky.

You look over, pausing.

Steve is looking at someone. You follow his gaze and see him staring at Bucky (who is not so subtly glancing at you and Steve while he pretends to be talking to another soldier). You set aside his stiff posture and really look at the way he’s looking at Bucky. He’s biting his lip and looking longingly at Bucky as if he’s his entire world.

“Oh,” you suddenly say, catching Steve’s attention.

He looks over and asks, “What?”

You laugh heavily. “Are you and Bucky lovers?”

Steve gasps and blushes. He averts his eyes and shifts around on his feet. “Are we really that obvious?”

You smile. “Only to people who are just as queer as you are.”

Steve blushes even more and looks at you. You smile back but look away again to focus on Bucky.

You’re able to admit you’re a little disappointed because you know how you feel. You were just so sure that Bucky had wanted the same thing as you. It’s confusing because Bucky seemed too enthusiastic to stick you and Steve together for him to want you to just be friends.

“Um,” you stutter, facing growing hot, “do… do you want to go get some food? We’ve had a long walk,” you look over at Steve hopefully.

Steve is blushing and he looks at you for a long second, emotions shifting behind his eyes. Then, Steve nods. “Yeah,” he agrees, smiling genuinely.

“We should invite Bucky,” you tell him, looking towards the Sergeant.

“Yeah,” Steve nods and agrees again, “we should definitely invite Bucky.”

(NOT MY GIF)

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comicteaparty · 4 years

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February 1st-February 7th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from February 1st, 2020 to February 7th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is the nicest thing someone has said about your story, whether its published or still a WIP?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Well, this is one I can answer right away. It's not a very straightforward answer, but I had someone reference me and my comic in an essay about reasons why they were able to love themself... It was for a creative writing class, and they just used me as an example of a greater thing (indie media)... and I only know about it because they asked me permission. but they let me read the essay, and it made me cry. I havent heard from them in a while and I really hope they're okay, but that really stuck with me in a way nothing else has. It's not really a quote, though, so the nicest comment I have recieved was "I can tell how much you love people by reading this story." It was really sweet in a way I can't quite articulate. People have been incredibly sweet to me, and I feel very blessed. I could make a long list detailing the kindness I have been shown.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Apparently Phantomarine (http://www.phantomarine.com/) has made more than one person cry already. Which, to me, is pretty darn high praise, given that I've barely begun the story

Having people find it and say "THIS IS EXACTLY THE KIND OF STORY I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR" also hits a nerve. I know that feeling. You like certain themes/motifs and you wish someone would blend them together in just the right way. It can be magical.

And the last one is when I learned that children like it. A few have come forward so far - either in person or through their parents - and told me they loved it. It was around that age that I was building my own 'inner library' of inspirations for the comic. To know that I might be part of theirs, even in a small way, is just... the best?

Deo101 [Millennium]

that's all so incredibly nice <3

and now I wanna add to my list actually I don't want to interrupt, this is just a topic I wish I could sing from the rooftops about... I also had a student of mine (I am a teacher at a church) come out to me because he knew I would be okay with who he is. And, I have had people tell me it's inspiring to them, which kinda makes my heart melt. I'll stop now but, really I could go on and on about how open and loving people have been with me and my work, and how much it means to me.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Man... This is somewhat difficult for me to answer since I am so early into my comic creating journey. However, I will say that I recently got a comment on my comic Whispers of the Past (https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/whispers-of-the-past/list?title_no=191366) that made me smile. A long time reader commented that they always read my new pages twice, once on Webtoon, and again on Tapas. This really made me realize that my work has meaning to somebody other than myself, which is definitely what I need to hear when I'm doubting myself.

Mei

It's so nice reading about nice comments people have gotten and honestly... y'all deserve it!! I need to be in a better habit of commenting myself because I will promote comics to my friends for days on end but I'm too shy to leave a comment, even though I love receiving comments myself. I think the nicest comments I've received have been in combination with the conventions I was at last year. People told me that they thought the comic was funny, which I am incredibly thankful for. And one person who bought the book at the convention took the time to find it on Tapas and then comment on the latest page, saying that they'd talked to me, read the book, and that they liked it. That meant so much to me it was crazy! And another time, I was showing my book to someone at a convention and she said that she actually read the comic online, which honestly... It's so strange and surreal to me to meet anyone in real life who reads things posted online. It made my heart do smiley emoji. I think what LadyLazuli said is really right, this idea that you're a small part of someone's life or inspirations or just general day is pretty amazing?! Also this one guy commented on every page week to week with the same 'vase' joke on several updates and honestly the commitment was truly astounding

kayotics

I think some of the nicest comments come from one specific reader, who has mentioned a couple times that going back and reading the comic has helped them through some tough times. There was also one person who went to the effort of contacting me after their books were damaged from flooding, and wanted to buy new books to replace the old ones. This was wild since they wanted to do something so inconvenient (paying with cash by mail, and I didn't even have an online storefront in the first place) to replace the books.

twothirty

really early on i had 1 reader that would leave in-depth analysis of some character interactions and they were were spot on and made me really feel like people cared about this story . The other interaction that really stands out was doing the convention circuit last year I had a reader come up to say hi, and usually that interaction is just "i love your comic!" (which is amazing) but he also then talked to me at length about the story and again it was this feeling of just knowing someone out there cares about what you're doing. Comics feels particularly isolating so interactions like that really keep me going.

Funari (Raison d’Etre)

I've had two different readers tell me our comic has brought them joy during bad days. Sadly one of them I haven't heard from in 2 years and they were going through some rough times. I hope they're okay

Nutty (Court of Roses)

The nicest thing I've heard was when my coworker told me him and his daughter were reading it, and he told me that she's "drawing like me" with panels and stuff and keeps asking him "how do i make the bubbles" So they're gonna work on that and then he's gonna show it to me.

keii4ii

Any time someone gets what I'm trying to do with the story. I have a great fear of getting good intentioned people trashing the most important parts of my story (without realizing their importance). So whenever someone gets what the story is all about, whether as a whole or just one scene, it's a huge weight off my chest. Legit brings tears to my eyes. Even if I manage to overcome that fear some day, comments like that would mean a lot to me. Being understood has always been very important to me.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Someone recently said they wanted to get a tattoo of something in the comic and that was cool. It also means a lot when people respond well to the jokes in the comic because I put a lot into the writing to make it funny. I hope it makes someone cry someday Joe Is Dead http://joeisdead.com/read

DanitheCarutor

Ffff all my readers have been so compassionate, it's jarring! In a nice way! Choosing one nice thing is hard, every comment has been nice. I guess the most flattering is when a someone takes the time to go back to the previous chapters to link little things up with the current events in the story, or when they manage to remember in spite of how webcomics update so slowly. There was a comment I saved a while back where someone remembered a small thing in chapter 3 and was doing some brainstorming with it relating to the current chapter at the time.

Every so often someone also leaves a paragraph with some of the most motivational gushing, it's so nice! Oh! Also, there have been a few people who've asked me to print my comic so they can have a physical copy (which I'm slowly starting to do), which is super motivating knowing a couple people like my depressing comic enough to want to own a copy of it.

keii4ii

Oh man, I too have saved screenshots of some of my favorite comments, but I don't wanna share them because 1) some of them are long and 2) maybe the commenters wouldn't want their names disclosed in a different context? They are great to save for a rainy day, though!

Tuyetnhi

Oh this is hard I remember one comment on tapas that they got their aunt and cousin reading it and I was flattered! Most comments I got were about the artstyle and progression of the story, which I hope to continue if school lets me. Still, I'm quite surprised that it drove someone to get their family to read a romance about someone's dream lover lmao

also same keii!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Honestly, I have far too many comments I should screenshot. But so many of them are praising the art, and I never know how to feel about it. Like, those types of comments make me happy, but I never know how to truly feel about them.

keii4ii

Art is admittedly easier to comment on. If I'm commenting on art on anyone's comic, I try to point out how it contributes to the storytelling, rather than "ooh pretty and shiny." Pretty and shiny is valid but I'd be just doing illustrations if that were my main goal!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

But if 9/10 comments are, "Wow, the art is so pretty!" I can't really react to it much, especially since my own self-doubt is constantly reminding me of my mistakes.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I've been really excited to answer this question because it gives me an opportunity to thank any and all the fans and people who celebrate our work. I've been so humbled by all of the wonderful and amazing fanart we've received, music paired with scenes from our comic, and fans even imagining scenarios of the characters themselves-- I'm constantly blown away! I do have my most treasured moment however, and that was when we were tabling at TCAF a couple years back. We had been swamped with crowds, selling, and early mornings-- it was a long day! That was until we had one person who went through the trouble to see us in person, and handcraft a drawing to deliver to us, saying thank you, and in that moment I bawled!! They quickly left after us thanking them so much, and I'll never forget that and how much it gave us a fire to see this whole project through. We have it framed and it sits in front of our cpu

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I got one comment where someone said that one of my main characters "seems sweet," and it just left me confused because, a) he's only said about ten words total, and b) in those ten words, he has somehow managed to be rude.

So how is he sweet???

But I mean, I should be happy that he seems likeable despite his attitude and reticence

Tuyetnhi

nice lmao

I do agree about the comments about the artwork being pretty and idk how to repond other than thanks lmao(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep

That's pretty much all I can say

Because I would HOPE my art looks pretty good after a decade drawing haha

Tuyetnhi

tho tbh because of the nature of my comic, I do get the occasional thirst comment and I'm just sitting there bawling

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh yeah, I get those

Tuyetnhi

"Wow he's buff"

"yea bc I made him like that lmao"

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

People drooling about my male MC mainly

It's so awkward, but I knew it would happen

Tuyetnhi

same, but for the male love interest and i'm like "this is expected lmao"

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I KNEW WHAT I WAS DOING

keii4ii

I get like 0 thirsty comment despite one of the MCs being an athletic cat dude with literal secret tentacles (I'm okay with not getting a lot of thirsty comments, but I do find it interesting)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've gotten thirsty comments and my comic is not meant to be romantic or sexy at all

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh, I can leave you some thirsty comments

I love Lu

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I was going to say they are inevitable(edited)

but kei proved that wrong

Tuyetnhi

same I love Lu too lmao

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

And will gladly praise his hotness

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

if your comic goes on for long enough, i think you will get some eventually. it is a rule of the internet

keii4ii

It's been ongoing since Nov 2014 XD But I guess it takes longer for some than others!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@keii4ii I don't think you quite understand

I have never been attracted to animal-people before

I have always found anthros and such weird

And yet

Lu is totally my thing

Tuyetnhi

Strangely attractive for a cat guy lol

points for those who get the ref

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

how do you guys know what their comic is?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

He is way too attractive

keii4ii

Mine? Cronaj and Tuyetnhi came across it outside this Discord, I believe!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep

I have been reading it for a few years now

Although I can't say exactly when, because HoK has been a part of my life for so long

Tuyetnhi

I think I started reading it a year or 2 ago lol

DanitheCarutor

@keii4ii The only nice thing about Webtoons is that there aren't any profiles to check, so you can't look up fans via their comments. Also if you did Google their username there isn't a guarantee whoever you find would be that Webtoons user without them telling you. Lmao! About the thirsty comments, I used to get them a lot of Webtoons. There was this one scene where my smaller MC pulled the taller one to their face to say "Your friend is dead", before shoving him away and walking off. Some of my readers went wild! They wanted the two MCs to make-out so bad, even though the scene clearly had no romantic chemistry... or even the entire comic for that matter. My thirsty bunch came off really desperate and reaching at times.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Omg, that's just precious

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I really have never gotten thirsty comments, with the exception of one or two very mild 'Oh, that character is attractive' comments. But I think my comics just don't really attract thirsty readers. Of course, I rarely get any reader feedback, so that's probably part of it.

keii4ii

@DanitheCarutor Yeah, that's a plus about the semi-anonymity! My screenshots are from less anonymous places, so yeah. Some are also from like... Discord, where the person may not even have expected the comment to be archived in any way. (Sometimes I actually asked if I could screenshot, but I don't know if I asked every time...)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

No one has ever reported finding my characters attractive

Deo101 [Millennium]

People thinking my characters are hot is a pretty common thing, and usually I don't mind but... sometimes it's the bane of my existence.

It's always a little bit weird, though

every time someone is like "dat ass " I'm like alright bud keep it to urself

it's part of why I made all of my characters adults, actually

people even before I started making it, just when I was talking to them about it or showing my art would STILL be overly sexual about my characters so I aged them up where it felt less weird for me.

kayotics

I’ll get thirst comments every once in a while, usually on tapas. I don’t mind it too much, especially since I’m usually making characters that I’m also attracted to? I usually think thirst comments are funny

DanitheCarutor

Pfff I'm in a similar boat to Deo's. Usually I don't mind, but there are moments where it sucks. Like there will be a really serious, or heavy scene and someone will pop up with "Make them kiss!!", "Don't be mean to your future hubby, X! Kiss him and make up!!". It totally feels they don't actually care about the story and just want something to jack it off to. xD I don't get a whole lot of thirst anymore, which is nice. I think the vocal group lost interest after being blue-balled for 3-4 chapters. Weirdest thing, I have yet to get anyone saying my characters are attractive... well, some readers used to say Julian (my questionable looking non-binary character) was pretty but they weren't really thirsty, just observations. At least they came off like that. My style makes characters look kind of ugly, so comments about any of my cast being attractive is non-existent. @keii4ii Ooh yeah, I can see how that would be an issue. Although, if you really want to show off some super nice comments, you can also just cover or blur out their username and icon image. A lot of people do that, it's really good for keeping up the user's anonymity, and I don't think they would mind since you're not using their words slanderously.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Can I admit I sort of wish I got some thirsty and shipping comments? I also draw characters I think are hawt so I kinda wish my readers felt the same way. XD I don’t really want them in Ashes were my characters are teens, but in Eryl where 95% of the cast is legal age, I kinda wish some people wanted to be a little bit thirsty about it. XD

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah, i just wish it wasnt... Idk sometimes it seems like thats ALL people see and it makes me sad

Like theres other stuff going on...

eli [a winged tale]

I feel you too Cap’n! I sort of expected shipping comments for AWT https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/keyspace-a-winged-tale/list?title_no=322364 but yeah they’re still kids discovering themselves! When I start my adult fantasy comic (tentatively planned), then I’m all on board for sure. For the question, I love and screenshot every comment to peruse whenever I feel down. I treasure all of them but one that particularly stood out for me was a writer reimagining all their stories with my art and characters and that just about made me cry happy tears

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

So far the only 'thirst comments' I've gotten are when the comic gets even the slightest bit... gay I can't say my story revolves around major LGBTQ+ themes, but people have picked up on random bits of subtext between characters (which is mostly intentional on my part, not gonna lie) and specifically take time to comment on them. It makes me happy to see people reading between the lines. And it also helps me know what the readers like or are really looking for. So... yeah, I'm gonna keep on that path

eli [a winged tale]

Did I miss that in phantomarine?? Howww

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

The subtlest of subtle subtext... which will become far less subtle over time

Nutty (Court of Roses)

i am deliberately pushing my main ship to get ppl into it lmao

YOU WANT THESE TWO TO KISS, I PROMISE

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

GOSH I know this feeling too well I feel like I don't want to overwhelm the readers, but I want them to still realize "...Hmmmmmm, yeah I kinda want this."

eli [a winged tale]

I’m so intrigued now

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

good

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

wait i can't think of anything remotely gay/romantic in phantomarine

besides maybe

phaedra and... cheth?

eli [a winged tale]

The shipping comments in AWT are currently on point at exactly where I want them to be

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i don't believe you would go for that, but shipping enemies is a very common fandom thing

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I wish I had more people shipping my characters because I'm all alone in it right now

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Nutty (Court of Roses) I'm doing the same in Ashes. I'm being super obvious about Anor x Rava being a future couple. XD

So far I haven't really gotten any comments about it. Idk if my readers care about romance at all.

Which is okay, because I don't really write much romance into my comics.

Even though I secretly wish for a bit of shipping from readers.

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I have to find out how visibly and obviously gay the characters have to act before people pick up on it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

sssfrs, your comic just doesn't feel like the kind of comic people would ship characters in, though. Even the relationship between the captain and the guy that left, though lovely, feels, i don't know, too mature to really ship?

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

It's not the focus of the plot though so it's not essential just would be fun

Deo101 [Millennium]

people were shipping page 2 for me so idk

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That's a fair way to look at it

Deo101 [Millennium]

apparently they need to be next to eachother , in my experience

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i think the art style plays a part, too

people were shipping my characters also from page two. But I have a "prettier" style than sssfrs

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, I think the only way readers even know my characters are queer is from the extra art I make of them for Pride month each year. On panel the gay isn't incredibly obvious.

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah, and I do WANT people to ship them so its not like I mind. I like shippers (when they are in line with my plans)

eli [a winged tale]

Yes Deo!! Exactly

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Some characters I think have a great dynamic but I just haven't published enough of the material that shows their chemistry yet so I can't blame anyone for not seeing it

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

^same for me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

looking forward to seeing that in both your comics!

i follow both

eli [a winged tale]

That’s fair ssfrs I’m all for the slow burn

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

It's true that my goal isn't to make the characters visually attractive and appealing in that way as much as in personality and interactions

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I do keep seeing people leave 1* ratings for Eryl on WT and I can't help but wonder if it's homophobes angry about a character sheet I shared that mentioned the character was lovingly raised by two dads. Bc there has been nothing really controversial on-panel in the comic, and I have such a small audience it has no other reason to keep attracting hate.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

yeah, that's what i was trying to say. couldn't think of a good way to say that though. but i like your art and feel like it fits your story well

( at sssfrs)

i don't think there are a large number of homophobes on WT. If anything, there's an overabundance of the opposite- fetishists

people leave 1 star on WT for random reasons like you not updating enough

don't worry about it

eli [a winged tale]

Link your webcomics? With <> . Love to check them out

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Deo101 [Millennium]

I get a lot of fetishists, yeah....

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/dark-wings-eryl/list?title_no=287293

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/millennium/list?title_no=110866

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Idk, maybe they don't like that I update in traditional pages, then, Who knows

All I know is every time my ratings start crawling back up, suddenly they'll take a big hit.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

idk, some people just seem to do that kinda thing

I have thought it could be other creators before, too...

trying to make less competition or something. but that would be cruel and I dont like to think someone would do that

so I prefer to think its just someone who didnt like my stuff

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

eh i prefer to think the best of people

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It's not like I'm super successful or anything. The algorithms haven't been kind to either of my comics so I'm hardly competition.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i'm not going to think it's other creators

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah that's what Im saying

like its popped in my head and then I was like literally who would do that

thatd be reaaaaal messed up

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

hey, how to i add my comic name in paren to my name on this server?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Unfortunately I know a lot of creators who would. They just don't hang out in spaces like these.

Deo101 [Millennium]

just edit your nickname in the options

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Mine is called Joe Is Dead, on here http://joeisdead.com/ and on tapas https://tapas.io/series/JoeIsDead

Deo101 [Millennium]

oh right I actually have another comic. It was on hiatus over a year so I havent gotten into the habit of sharing it...

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, go to the ... next to the server name and it opens up a menu with the 'change nickname' option.

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://tapas.io/series/Time-and-Time-again

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I put the title in my name

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

My other comic is here on WT: https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/children-of-shadow-ashes/list?title_no=145048&page=1

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i just don't like dismissing negative feedback. I don't want to get negative reviews and just brush them off as jealous people because i know my comic definitely has room to improve and would rather negative feedback motivate me to look for ways how

got it, thanks!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love negative feedback. I want to put out the best work I can & hearing what people don't like or don't think is working helps me do that

Deo101 [Millennium]

theres constructive feedback, and then theres people telling me my characters are stupid and I think I can brush the latter off

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Unfortunately, I have been the victim of vicious jealous reviews. I've seen a lot of ugly in the webcomic world over the many years I've been doing this. Some creators be petty.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) hm if i were to give negative feedback about your comic I'd say the biggest things are that you have a lot of characters that in my mind are kind of hard to differentiate, and also it can be really hard to tell where your characters are in space. But those don't matter too much, as they both will probably get better with time. Your biggest strength imo in your dialogue anyways

keii4ii

Not every negative feedback is relevant to my goals, is key for me. It's the whole "you can't please everyone" principle. My target audience does not include every person out there. If my target audience falls in love with what I make, then that's success for me. I don't need to impress the rest of the world.

keii4ii

(Thanks Tatsu.)

Deo101 [Millennium]

You have a different definition of "negative feedback" than I do.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

who are you referring to?(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

You

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

in what way?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I can usually tell the difference between 'This person has a different idea of what this story should be than I do' and 'This person has it out for me because of jealousy or spite'

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Yeah I've found it really hard to juggle the consistency with where characters are standing all the time. I write out lists of the order they're spatially located in an effort to keep track of them. Hopefully I'll get better with practice

Deo101 [Millennium]

the negative feedback I am talking about is basically straight up hate. Constructive criticism, pointing out the flaws of a work, isnt "negative feedback" by my definition.

so saying "I want negative feedback" means something different for you than it does for me.

i WILL dismiss people being straight up rude to me

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

hm, I feel like a lot of people define negative feedback the same way i do, constructive criticism about what you could do better. If you say you dont want negative feedback you might get people thinking you don't want critique at all. imo what you are referring to might be more clearly just called "hate"

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'll consider it if someone is trying to help, even if most of the time I ignore it

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I also get the random 1 star ratings on Webtoon, so I think some people are just easy to hate stuff(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

yo sssfrs, you keep track of where characters are in space by writing lists??

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

These are probably also the same people who dislike videos habitually on Youtube

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i can't imagine working with that

Deo101 [Millennium]

I actually dont want critique at all.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

it seems so hard

Deo101 [Millennium]

not if I dont ask for it.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Con crit and hate aren't the same thing, though

One is genuinely trying to help you improve, the other is just trying to bring you down.(edited)

And it's okay to not want the former

Deo101 [Millennium]

and I would say "negative feedback" doesnt include con crit

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Just because you make something doesn't mean you have to want people to give crit on it.(edited)

Yeah

I agree, because GOOD con crit is usually polite because if the person knows what they're talking about, they were where you are now and will be nice about it.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

From my experience the best critiques come from other artists doing similar work to you

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i don't think all negative con crit is helpful, either. people also need to know what their strengths are so they know what to keep instead of just what to remove

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

They might not even be trying specifically to be nice about it

But their words feel less hurtful

eli [a winged tale]

I feel like there are comments which are reviews (fair enough, everyone has subjective opinions) but I feel like constructive criticisms should be more private and take place in specific settings (most importantly where the creators are in a position of wanting them)

Nutty (Court of Roses)

@eli [a winged tale] https://courtofroses.spiderforest.com/

eli [a winged tale]

What I think most readers don’t understand or know is that the comic that does make its way to the public quite often has already been through rigorous critique and feedback

Nutty (Court of Roses)

(sorry, was late to that haha, i agree on your feelings about crits)

Deo101 [Millennium]

see, I dont know what you mean by "negative con crit" In my experience, a critique that is negative is not a critique and is more an opportunity for someone to flex.

helpful critiques may FEEL negative, because they are pointing out your flaws, but they arent negative

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i think you're defining "negative" and "hateful" the same way, but other people are not(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

I call them constructive feedback. Then on the other hand, yeah there are negative comments that are there to serve the OP’s sentiments(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I use constructive if it is helpful, and negative if it is harmful

eli [a winged tale]

But I just don’t think the comment platform supports the constructive feedback part. The comments currently represent the OP’s views which are very much subjective. It’s hard to know if they are providing feedback from a place of knowing story structure/art competency

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

critique does mean a lot more when I ask for it from an artist I respect

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. It’s quite an intimate process

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but i can still take casual comments into consideration when trying to improve

things like, it's confusing, or i don't understand what's happening

eli [a winged tale]

I think trust in the critiquer’s background and intention for you to improve are imperative(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

speaking of comments that say the comic is confusing, god i hate getting those comments the most. Because they come from people genuinely trying to read and like my comic and represent a failure of my storytelling skills

eli [a winged tale]

Plus there is a skill/art (no pun intended haha) to giving feedback. That’s a whole nother can of worms

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

but better to hear that and know it than not

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It's not always a failure of storytelling skills, though. Some people's brains work along a certain line, and when a story is told that doesn't gel with that, it seems confusing to the person. That doesn't mean the writing was bad, it just means that the author communicates differently than the reader.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

^ thats what I was gonna say

I have a small group of people who I trust who are editors, writers, or artists. I go to them to see if I'm doing the best I can for my goals.

if people get confused then there isnt too much more that I can do...

not saying my work is perfect, of course...

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i can't just brush it off by saying I communicate differently than the reader when I'm trying to communicate to the reader

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

But not every reader is your audience, though

Nutty (Court of Roses)

^^^^

your message sometimes can't reach certain people, and that's not your fault

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

If all the readers are confused, that's one thing. If only a few are, well, your writing style just wasn't for them.

eli [a winged tale]

For sure. Agree Capn and Deo. There’s a lot of work that goes behind the scenes that readers are unaware

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

true true. But there are a few people who have said the same things, so I've taken those to heart and added dialogue that made it more clear. I don't regret that

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Your comic is public, and it's going to be seen by a very wide variety of people with all different kinds of reading comprehension and tastes. You're never going to appeal to all of hem, and plenty won't understand what you're trying to do. But that doesn't mean what you're making is bad. It just means it, like every story, is for a particular audience.

Yeah, if it's a repeated crit, it is something to keep in mind, but just remember that incorporating a crit shouldn't change what you're trying to do, only refine it.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ive had a couple people say "I'm confused but Im enjoying whats going on" and I dont even know what I would begin to do about that

eli [a winged tale]

I usually trust my beta readers for that. If there are confusing parts then I would ask them how to clarify that best

I think these creator based forums are best to seek feedback and see what could potentially be remedied

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Of course. And I don't think my comic is bad. But one example was when I realized some confusion stemmed from me having a speech bubble that read, "without her," and didn't realize "her" could refer to two different characters which would make what was being said have two very different meanings. It's easy to overestimate how understandable your story is as an author that already knows everything that's going on. I think confusion is a good thing to pay attention to- I've definitely read comics before and dropped them because the author didn't pay enough attention to introducing things to the audience

(also dropped comics because they paid too much attention to introducig things but)

Deo101 [Millennium]

yes, like I said I have a small group of friends who are all writers, editors, and artists who can give me a pretty dang good beta read.

eli [a winged tale]

They are so great. Don’t know what I’d do without them

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

At that point I'd honestly keep going with what you have - there are several stories I've gone into with confusion, but also greatly enjoyed them, or even got less confused over time. Some readers need time to put the pieces together. So long as someone enjoys it on some level, I think that makes the comic successful. Maybe not completely - but not every comic will be everything to all people.

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. Sometimes as well you gotta trust your story writing/art skills.

Deo101 [Millennium]

yup!

and like I'm not doing too bad for my first comic so I think I got something going for me at least.

I understand I have room to grow...

but I would like to keep that to people who I trust wont steer me wrong

eli [a winged tale]

Always room to grow for sure!

Deo101 [Millennium]

and arent just pushing what they want from me on me

eli [a winged tale]

Indeed. Feedback/ beta reading has its own set of skills. There’s always places to improve but the key is to determine specifically where that can be and how feasible(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I remember the first time I read Unsounded, I had absolutely no idea what was going on because of how Ashley structures her world-building. But there were aspects of it that were very engaging, so I stuck with it. After finishing the archives, I went back and reread. Now that I understood what all the terms meant, it made perfect sense on the second go-round. It's now one of my favourite webcomics. Some stories are just told differently, and that's okay.(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

There’s certainly an element of trust you must put to the creators that it’ll all make sense at the end

Deo101 [Millennium]

someone got very mad at me for how I have shown my trans characters so far.. I had to explain that the story isnt done yet, and they have to trust I'll bring it up

it's a WIP and there is some trust that NEEDS to be had

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

lol I have only one artist/writer friend (struggles of working in a non-art career), and she understands everything I write exactly as I intended it and I love it. But she's my friend for a reason- we tend to think the same way and read similar things. Don't think it's wrong to try to cater to a wider audience as well

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Deo101 [Millennium] I wonder if anyone will react once I reveal that Anor is intersex/trans on panel. I'm really hoping I don't find out if any of my readers are transphobes -or- angry that he isn't ostentatiously trans.

Deo101 [Millennium]

someone was mad I didnt show my cyborg transitioning cause it could be so cool of a concept to see his original robot body and I was like literally none of what you said applies to him also thats kinda gross

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Wut

Deo101 [Millennium]

YEAH

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

There might be some transphobes. But it's worth dealing with them for the people who your comic will resonate with more for having a trans character in it

Deo101 [Millennium]

alsooooo some people might be upset, but then they will leave and you will be left with better people.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

I feel like me having a non-binary character and insisting on correcting everyone who misgenders them deters transphobes away p quickly.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

^^^ some people will dislike, but those who like will really like

and a smaller, better fanbase is better than a larger one that cares less(edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

hear hear

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) I'm hoping some will resonate with him! I don't think I've ever seen any intersex rep in any story, so I really want people to know they can have a hero like them.(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I'm trying to think of stories with intersex rep

I feel like there must be some, but I can't bring any up : /

Sazed from Mistborn is written as though he's intersex, but he clearly identifies as male and the story treating him as intersex actually feels a bit disrespectful

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Me neither. The only thing I've seen in stories is gross 'hermaphrodite' jokes when mocking a cis character.

I really want to give positive representation.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

webcomics have so much lgbt representation. I feel as though I must have seen an intersex character somewhere in there, but I'm not sure I have.(edited)

it feels kind of weird(edited)

I've seen characters that don't have genders because they're gods or whatnot but I feel like that's different

Deo101 [Millennium]

I mean, I have intersex characters I supposed but theyre alien genders so I also think that's different and wouldnt call them intersex

DanitheCarutor

I don't know the whole conversation, but @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios), you'll be fine! Most transphobic people quietly leave, only the really sad, pitiful ones make a stink and their opinions are pretty laughable. If you get crap laugh in their faces like they're morons. I would also say my character Julian is intersex, but I'm not sure how much it counts since it was a recent decision I made (after doing a lot of research) due to readers headcanoning them as an intersex character.

I think I know of a couple other comics with intersex characters if you want to check out some, lemme go look through my lists.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@DanitheCarutor I'd love to see other comics with intersex representation! And I think Julian totally counts? I don't see a problem with reconsidering a character's sex, gender, or orientation as we become more aware of issues in the world, or even just more aware of our own characters. Webcomics are always a work-in-progress and things change as we go.

eli [a winged tale]

@DanitheCarutor I’d love to know them too!

keii4ii

Re: clarity and confusion, sometimes a small change in wording or such can improve the clarity greatly, and that's great! But I agree that reader confusion doesn't necessarily = failure in storytelling. I've published my comic first in Korean, and a much improved version in English. The cultural difference in the audience has shown to be a huge factor in terms of what's clear and what isn't, or how certain things come across. And that's just one factor.

DanitheCarutor

So I only know of one comic personally, Drop-Out! Sure the characters are anthros, and the bubbles can be hard to read, but it is one of my favorite comics! Of course it's kinda heavy so be aware of that. http://drop-out.thecomicseries.com/ Although I checked out the Webcomic Library tagpacker and found a few. (including Drop-Out) https://tagpacker.com/user/webcomic.library?t=Intersex LGBT Webcomics also has a few that aren't listed in the above list. https://tagpacker.com/user/lgbtwebcomics?t=intersex @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) Lol yeah, I guess so. My readers made me put a lot of thought into it, and after the research being intersex actually fits a lot better with Julian's type of gender dysphoria and confusion than when they were AAB male. It also make some small, more intimate parts of the story feel more natural? It's hard to explain, it just feels better.(edited)

keii4ii

Like, making my work as accessible as possible has never been a goal for me with this story. So to me, it's not a failure that a large number of people can't see parts of the story that aren't being spelled out. I can totally respect "I want my work to be more accessible, so if all these people are not Getting It, then I need to do a better job" as a valid stance. Just not one I'm taking. It's all about individual goals and priorities.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh boy, writing a fantasy story with a very developed culture is kinda scary, because NOBODY is going to pick up on cultural nuances except for me(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

I DO want my work to be more accessible/reach a wider audience, but that still doesnt mean it will be for everyone, too.(edited)

keii4ii

Not gonna lie, I get a little salty when I see someone claiming their story is "for everyone." I feel like such a claim is disrespectful to different cultures and tastes.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i just started drop out and damn, that's one hell of an opening

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah I genuinely don't think it's possible to make a story for everyone lol

like... idk literally just by making it "sci fi" that excludes many people who just don't like sci-fi

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i've never seen anyone claiming their story is for everyone

Deo101 [Millennium]

I feel like just to get to your premise, not even your personal execution you're already super narrowing the people down who will be interested

which is fine!!! and is necessary to accept imo

keii4ii

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) I've seen it. Not often but I've definitely seen it.

I've even seen a creator accuse another person of being heartless because the person was not interested in their Very Emotional And Universally Heartfelt comic, so uhhh yeah

Deo101 [Millennium]

Ope

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Well then

That just sounds like an illusioned creator

Deo101 [Millennium]

I kinda like to think of it like music

I dont like a lot of songs that other people love, it's not that they're bad songs just... not for me(edited)

keii4ii

Yeah! I also think the word "taste" is very fitting

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah for sure

keii4ii

Some of us can eat ghost peppers like popcorns. Others would even avoid like... crackled black pepper

Deo101 [Millennium]

ahahhahaha

mac n cheese has a very wide audience, but some people aren't into it

DanitheCarutor

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) Lmao! Drop-Out is quite a unique piece of fiction. I have also seen creators who say their comic is for everyone, then get made when someone isn't interested.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'm gonna start saying millennium is like mac n cheese now

keii4ii

@Deo101 [Millennium] That reminds me of "what drink would your comic be" !!

Deo101 [Millennium]

ahahahahah

someone: my comic is WATER EVERYONE NEEDS IT

keii4ii

I answered: "I want HoK to be liquid bacon fat, so that it'll stay in your heart forever."

Deo101 [Millennium]

ew LMAO

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

even if your comic is water, some people don't drink water

Deo101 [Millennium]

but cute? I gues????

DanitheCarutor

That sounds like a fun game, "If your comic were food what would it be?"

Mine would be sardine pizza, only weirdos like it.

Deo101 [Millennium]

next weeks creator babble question

LMSLDJGLASJGK

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@DanitheCarutor its got such good art. The characters are so unique and expressive. Don't think I've seen anyone not use anti-aliasing on such detailed art before, but it works here

almost all webcomics are some weird food. We're niche just by nature

DanitheCarutor

It DOES have great art! And it gets better as you go too, by the time I reached the end then looked back on the first pages for nostalgia it was almost like night and day with the quality.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

fuck, really? but it's so polished already

DanitheCarutor

I mean, I guess that's not something to get excited about, most webcomics get better artwise as they go. Lmao! But still!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i love how the about page makes this sound like a fun roadtrip adventure

Deo101 [Millennium]

this feels mayble like the wrong chat for this discussion?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

My comic would be a latte: A lot of people like it, but some people will never like coffee.

keii4ii

I can imagine HoK being like Chung Gook Jang soup? It's 1) Korean, 2) it warms you up, 3) it is very polarizing even among Koreans. It's kinda like... imagine miso soup on ultra mega steroid. Like a vegan version of supersharp stinky cheese. And 4) I love it.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

im alphabet soup because i have a fuckton of dialogue

Deo101 [Millennium]

I'm actually gonna stick with mac n cheese. a bit childish, but it's nice! you can do some fun things with it to shake things up, but it's still cheese and noodles.

keii4ii

Mac n cheese is amazing.

Deo101 [Millennium]

I love mac n cheese.

another reason why it's my comic! I love it, and it's something I can actually make

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

As for food, WotP would definitely something like authentic Mexican tacos. Again, generally well-received, but can be a bit intense for a lot of people

keii4ii

I really like food analogies. Sometimes it's not Gordon Ramsey you're trying to impress. Sometimes you want to make something you and/or your loved ones will enjoy, and if that's "WAY too much [ingredient]!!!!" for everyone else out there, that's not a flaw!

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah! :D

keii4ii

That's actually good food for thought (no pun intended): what niche aspects does your comic contain? How/why are they niche?

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) How do you do it?

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I think I once described mine as a corrupted tropical cocktail. On the surface: sweet, pretty, very colorful - but all the ingredients used to make it are rotten

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I thought of Cricket as intersex for a long time and I still don't know exactly where I stand on that.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I draw a diagram of where characters/ furniture are from above. Niche things: Most conflicts are resolved through anticlimactic conversation. Also there's this huge bit about consensual mind control. I wrote the comic I'd want to read, and somehow found a few people like me to follow along

I also usually don't have more than 2 characters interacting

so it's easier for me

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I have so many busy group scenes with people moving around. The most recent chapter was kind of a mess also because I wasn't really sure about the dimensions of the space they were all in

This scene was also pretty rushed in general

Re: intersex characters I feel like I've been shying away from that because I don't feel like I know enough about the topic to adequately represent intersex people

Joe Is Dead has a really specific aesthetic to it but I don't know how to define that niche. It's definitely something

Deo101 [Millennium]

I honestly could not answer that question about what niche things my comic contains. I don't know what about my comic is mainstream or not, I'm just making what I want to see and not really worrying about stuff like that.

keii4ii

For me, having an idea of what's niche about my comic actually lessens my worries!

It's a "okay, so I know these things are niche, which means people not liking or even getting those things =/= my failure!" kinda thing for me!

But I can also see how not thinking about what's niche or not can lessen the worries for others, too.

Deo101 [Millennium]

mhm, for me it means I can just go "well I like it anyways sooooooooo"

keii4ii

Yeah, that's the destination! We're just taking different routes to get there

Deo101 [Millennium]

I also genuinely just have a hard time determining whether or not something is niche

even if I thought about it for a while (I've been thinking about it since you asked, and I have thought about it before" I genuinely couldnt pinpoint it for you...

keii4ii

I used to beat myself up very badly every time someone didn't like a thing about my comic

Deo101 [Millennium]

keii4ii

and "oh, 1) this is subjective, 2) I like it like this, and 3) my liking of it is valid" was how I crawled out of that hole

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't know if my comic is specifically niche, unless you count "low fantasy" (or essentially fantasy with less magic and such) as niche

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My comic has a lot of specific nautical and history content that you could call niche

Also surrealism

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i would call Joe Is Dead "niche," but not WoTP

I've read both

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I... used to think my comics weren't niche. Ohohohohoho how wrong I was!

Deo101 [Millennium]

Id say millennium isnt niche then it's basically just gay sci fi it's p straightforward

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

My comics are very, incredibly, undeniably niche.

DanitheCarutor

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) It is difficult to understand if you're not intersex yourself, even though I studied a lot before making the decision about my character I still don't know if I'll represent the topic properly. The best you can really do is get into researching all the medical stuff, talk to people willing to share their experiences with being intersex, and watch videos of people talking about it from a professional and personal perspective. The hardest thing to get right about something so subjective and personal is that everyone's experiences are different, so no matter how much you research you just gotta do your best with the info you have, then figure out how your character would experience it personally.(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't think anything magical happens until Chapter 11 of WotP, now that I think about it

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Also @DanitheCarutor thank you for the links!! I'll have to give those comics a look!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I’m still backreading and I just saw the food question, that is great

JID would be saltcod

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Ooooh

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

Or like pickled herring maybe

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Bacalao

Noice

(Bacalao = Puerto Rican salted cod)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

They have it in spain too iirc

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Ashes would be very bitter black coffee someone forgot to drink and it's just been sitting there for two days. Eryl would be well-aged wine spiked with tabasco sauce.

DanitheCarutor

Sorry for derailing. Anyways, I feel like my entire comic is just a ball of niche? The subject matters are uncommon and the main characters are awful and unreliable, but that's my aesthetic so I'm sticking to it. I've never particularly cared about people liking my comic due growing up not being liked myself (you kinda get over it after a while), but I do like finding people like me. @Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) No problem! I hoard stuff like that, so I probably have a link for everything.

Urm, I don't mean I like finding unlikable people like me, I mean people who like the same types of stories as me.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Honestly, Dani, I connect to your comic quite a lot, for what it's worth!

DanitheCarutor

Thank you! ;v; In a way it's kind of nice having a comic that doesn't fit in. It tends to stand out, especially with my choice of medium. Although at the same times it's really hard to get feedback that applies to what you're doing! Arg!

keii4ii

It is such a Struggle, for sure -- getting relevant feedback

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I feel you! I'm in the same boat with Ashes. It's also incredibly niche and there just aren't that many pencil comics out there- coloured or graphite.

DanitheCarutor

Being a creator who likes feedback, but also likes making niche content, is so hard! Why can't everyone like niche content??

Lmao!

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

As niche as the setting and tone of Joe Is Dead are, the main story arc is a very generic hero adventure thing that I hope will appeal to wide audiences

eli [a winged tale]

Niche content

I’d love to know more! What niches are you exploring?

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

The nicest thing anyone's said about Super Galaxy Knights Deluxe R http://sgkdr.thecomicseries.com/comics/ is that they really became invested in the characters. Like, that's the kind of story I want to make - the kind where the characters really stick with you.

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

As for what food my comic would be... I'd say squid ink pasta. It's the kind of food that makes you go "what the heck is going on here" if you're new to it, but once you actually eat it you'll (hopefully) go "oh, that made way more sense than i expected and was actually pretty tasty"

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I don't know if you're talking to me directly but I'm using a lot of maritime history and literature stuff that I've been obsessed with for a long time as the setting of the story, and then the whole thing has a really morbid and nihilistic tone, while also somehow being funny because I have a background in comedy/satire writing

And then heavy biblical themes

It's essentially a Renaissance period retelling of the Joseph story from the bible

With pirates instead of shepherds

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

For me, I’m not even sure what niche Ashes belongs to. (https://www.flowerlarkstudios.com/cos/) It’s dark, it’s weird, it has a twisty plot that slowly trickles information, and it’s an odd mash-up of genres. I often try to describe it as Miss Peregrine’s Peculiar Children meets Farthing Wood. It’s mostly urban fantasy with some horror elements and talking animals. Basically it’s about a bunch of unaging teenagers with supernatural, angel-gifted powers and a bunch of woodland critters fighting (although so far it’s more running from) eldritch monsters. But it’s main focus is on each character battling either mental illness or some other kind of inner demon.

keii4ii

There's also the aspect of: what's niche in one culture may not be niche in another. In Korean media, Fantastical Old Korea is a very common setting for all sorts of genres: gag a day, romance, all-ages adventure, gritty crime drama, zombie apocalypse, you name it. If the work spends a lot of visuals showing mundane everyday moments, often that's a shorthand for "sit down and stay a while; this is a heartfelt tale that takes its time." My comic uses such a setting. When I began to publish it in English, I was surprised that people were expecting it to be one of these AND NOTHING ELSE: a) exciting magical action adventure b) mythology-driven, all about gods and spirits My comic is neither of those. It definitely contains elements of adventure, but that's the plate the meat is served on, not the meat itself. So I guess the usage of the setting is niche.

Like, imagine a civilian life drama set in WWII time. The civilian MC may have a family member or a close friend in the military, but the story focuses on the MC's experience. Imagine presenting that story and people expect it to be... military action? Not a perfect analogy, but hopefully a good enough one.

Kelsey (Kurio)

To be fair, Korea would find fantastical old Korea less exotic than those outside of Korea heh

keii4ii

That is definitely a factor. Even today, you can find semi-Old Days-like places IRL within like... 3 hours of drive.

I'm weirded out that my culture is considered exotic, but it is what it is

(To clarify, weirded out =/= offended.)

Kelsey (Kurio)

Well any culture can be exotic to people outside of that culture

As an outsider looking in, it can be fascinating to learn about a culture I don't know much about

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Anything unfamiliar is usually considered exotic. I know in both England and America, I never really learned anything about any Asian country growing up. I had to seek out the info myself, and as it was very unfamiliar to me, it seemed exotic!

Kelsey (Kurio)

Especially their myths and stories

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Oops, exactly what Kelsey said, I typed too slow.

keii4ii

Yeah, the thing is I've been told I should not be using this setting to tell this story because it's a doomed combination. But ehh, I decided not to listen to that. This story with this setting and all of its elements is what I wanted to read.

carcarchu

slice of life set in a historical setting sounds really refreshing actually(edited)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

But I know I’d probably feel strange if someone told me New York was exotic!

carcarchu

sometimes historical settings can get really bogged down by politics and whatever other drama, having a quiet slow paced story set in the same kind of world is something i'd be interested in reading

Kelsey (Kurio)

Nothing wrong with trying the approach you want to

Who knows, you might end up with a unique combo that helps your work stand out

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yup. I’m a firm believer in writing the kind of story you’d want to read. No matter how niche.

Tuyetnhi

Totes agreed on this. For me, when I had to drop my dark drama series for my romance story, folks were like "Dang, I thought you like writing dark things!"

I do, but romance comics.... [clenches chest]. I also want to write a story that I want to read so lmao. Dream lover elements along with some dark horror influences is something I want to try doing lol

carcarchu

this is not a webcomic but try reading coelacanth if you're interested in the combination of horror with romance @Tuyetnhi

Tuyetnhi

ooo I'll keep that in mind

carcarchu

it's really so unique i love coelacanth so much

Tuyetnhi

is it a novel? :0

carcarchu

it's a manga

Tuyetnhi

aaa

Yeah I probably check it out sometime lmao

back on the idea tho, I also wanted to add some Vietnamese influences in the mix since there's not a lot of stories about Vietnamese disapora, so that's included in the cauldron lol

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

@keii4ii what's your comic? I wanna check it out(edited)

keii4ii

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) It's https://heartofkeol.com/

(I get extremely nervous whenever I know someone is checking out my comic for the first time )

DanitheCarutor

To answer @eli [a winged tale] question. I'm delving into stuff like mental illnesses and disorders, medical illnesses, abuse, trauma and later on, self-care. The comic itself is slow and character centric, I guess you can say it's like a character study. The story can be really depressing depending on who is reading, and it has some softcore horror bits sprinkled in. I'm kind of a nerd for mental health, sad stuff and everything medical so I figured I may as well make a story embellishing those interests. In short it's a sad, character driven, psychological drama about two extremely flawed individuals. Not particularly exciting compared to all the other webcomics out there, but somebody has to make that one pretentious, psychological slice of life piece.

keii4ii

What compounds my issues is that my comic does have enough adventure elements for someone to mistake it for an underwhelming adventure story. "This is an adventure story but there's not enough adventure in it?" kinda thing.

@DanitheCarutor Character studies FTW!!! Yours has been on my 'gotta check this out' list for a long time now!

Tuyetnhi

Oooo

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I also am a fan of psychological stories

Especially if they're sad(edited)

Tuyetnhi

Kei idk why but I was reminded of .hack SIGN when u said that

"there's so much talking! where's the action?!?"

keii4ii

@Tuyetnhi That's actually not a terrible comparison -- though .hack//SIGN has other issues that my comic hopefully doesn't have XD

Tuyetnhi

I'm pretty sure it's miles better than that old anime lmao

DanitheCarutor

@keii4ii Pff I need to check out your comic too! I remember reading it at one point, but I don't remember what happened to make me lose track. From what little I remember I really liked it.

keii4ii

The thing with .hack//SIGN was it had a lot of promises of mystery that never went anywhere, within SIGN. I've heard those mysteries do go somewhere within the franchise, but you had to watch/read the entire franchise, which I wasn't going to do. I hope my comic will be a good read on its own, when finished.

Tuyetnhi

sadly, I was one of those suckers that went to consume the .hack games and mangas to get some context from SIGN in the late 2000's lmao

I hope the same as mine, despite being mostly saccharine and self-indulgent nature lmao

keii4ii

Self-indulgence is a strength of indie comics.

eli [a winged tale]

I love all the themes y’all explore! They’re so important

Tuyetnhi

I feel like I have a reason for everything when working on that comic but if that's what it boils down to, I'll take it lol

keii4ii

TBH I produce my best writing and art when I focus on pleasing myself.

Because if I'm trying to please others, I don't even know what they want, so I waste my energy panicking.

But when I'm creating for my inner reader, I can be self-critical in a productive manner!

Tuyetnhi

so true ya

RebelVampire

Hey guys. I kind of feel as this has deviated a smidgen too far from the topic, so maybe reel it in just a smidgen. XD(edited)

Desnik

so the nicest thing anyone's ever said about my comic is that they wanna read more :3

I kinda dread reader dropoffs so the will to see the whole story through fills me with joy

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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marshmallow-phd · 6 years

Text

White Out

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Summary: Bouncing place to place was just how lived your life. Settling down just wasn’t in your plans, especially with your past. But when you meet Kyungsoo, there’s suddenly a future in front of you that you never imagined possible. With both enemies and friends of the pack arriving in town, you’ll be pulled into a danger that you never asked for. Will you stick around for Kyungsoo or will you do what you do best and run?

Warning: none

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Never in your life had you ever seen someone with bright red eyes. Meeting them now, you knew they were danger, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. You clung to Kyungsoo, your source of safety and protection. You assumed if you stuck close to him, you’d be alright. However, he disagreed.

“(y/n), run, now!” Kyungsoo hissed as he started pushing you towards the back exit. The terrifying group of men began stalking towards you all, slowly with each step taking forever, like a cat playing with a mouse before it pounced.

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from the group to look at your mate. “No, no, I’m not leaving you.”

He pried your hands off of his shirt and away from him, shoving you into Ji Yeon’s arms, who quickly locked you in. “Go, now!”

Before you could continue arguing, Ji Yeon cemented her hold on you, dragging you towards the exit while the other mates followed behind. You caught one last glimpse of Kyungsoo, whose back was to you, before the door slammed shut.

A crash made you flinch when you’d only taken a few steps. You looked back to find a fresh dent big enough for a person to make in the metal door. Skidding to a stop, you tried to turn back around and make sure that it wasn’t one of the boys that had been thrown into the door, but Ji Yeon’s grip was too strong on your arms. Snarls and growls echoed inside, but there was nothing you could do.

The six of you made it to a car in the far parking lot. Ji Yeon finally released you, only to shove you into the back seat once the car was unlocked, where you were trapped between Kimberly, Ming, and Jiyoung. Hae In jumped in the passenger’s seat just as Ji Yeon zoomed out of the parking lot and away from the pool hall.

“Are we seriously just going to leave them there?” you screeched.

Ji Yeon took a sharp turn to the left, making your shoulder collide into poor Jiyoung, who looked just as scared as you felt.

“Listen, (y/n),” Kimberly sighed. “You’ll learn it in time, but being mates with a wolf means when they tell you to run, you do it. No questions asked. Once they make it back home, then you can ask all the questions you want and yell as much as you’d like. Until then, you follow orders. Their first priority is to make sure we’re safe. They won’t take no for an answer, so it’s better to just go with it.”

“That’s not right,” you argued. “Relationships are supposed to be equal. Why can’t the protection be a two way street?”

Hae In turned around in her seat. “It is a two way street, (y/n). But you also have to trust Kyungsoo.”

You did trust Kyungsoo. He’d opened you up like no one ever had before. You loved him. But you needed to know that he was okay. You needed to know that he would still be there when you opened your eyes.

“Maybe we should just tell her,” Jiyoung whispered.

Whipping your head around, you furrowed your eyebrows at one of the quieter mates. “Tell me what?”

“Kyungsoo said no,” Ming reminded her. “It’s his choice what to tell her and what not to.”

You weren’t going to buy that. “Tell me what?” When no one answered, you repeated louder, “Tell me what?”

Slamming on the breaks, Ji Yeon turned around in her seat. “You want to know what’s going on? That group with the red eyes that ruined date night? They’re hybrids. Part werewolf, part vampire. They kill anything in their path because they can. It’s because that asshole Kris that they’re even coming after the others in the first place. He just couldn’t stay away! He had to come back and bring his curse with him!”

You shrank back, never have seen Ji Yeon like this in the few times you’d interacted with her. Tears were brimming in her eyes. The brave, controlled façade was cracking away, revealing that she was just as fearful and worried as the rest of you were.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, dropping your gaze to the floor.

Ming wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. We’re all just worried. There’s still a lot of things Kyungsoo hasn’t told you. I suspect because he doesn’t want to frighten you away.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to insist that you wouldn’t have been frightened away. But, it made sense. Running was what you were good at. If he really was keeping things from you to make you stay, you couldn’t entirely blame him. Your history was against you.

Ji Yeon faced back towards the steering wheel, speeding along the road through the woods.

“Why are the hybrids after Kris?” You asked. “What’s the curse?”

Kimberly made a face. “It’s not a real curse. Ji Yeon’s just being dramatic. Do you know why Kris and the others left the pack in the first place?”

You nodded. And then your eyes widened. “You mean… the wolf that Kris killed in revenge… was one of them? The people who had barged into the pool hall are the same ones who’ve been chasing Kris? He actually managed to kill one of them by himself?”

How was he able to do that? Granted, you didn’t know the extent of the hybrids’ strength and power, but you remembered Kyungsoo calling the the pack that was hunting Kris special and hard to outmatch. Ji Yeon called the hybrids ruthless killers.

“Mhm,” Kimberly confirmed. “No one’s sure how he did it considering the fact that hybrids are so strong they could crush your bone with just a pinch. But he did it. And, honestly, I’m curious to know how.”

Slowly but surely, your brain was putting all the pieces together. And you didn’t like the look of the big picture at all.

Thanks to Ji Yeon’s speeding, you made it back to the farm house in record time. You all scrambled out of the car and up the porch to the inside of the house.

“Junmyeon!” Ji Yeon screamed. “Junmyeon!”

Heavy, quick footsteps tumbled down the stairs. Junmyeon emerged from the hallway. By the way he looked, he must have been sleeping in bed. He had on an old worn out t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair was disheveled and he was trying hard to stifle back a yawn. Every other time you’d been around Junmyeon, he’d been so put together like the professor that he was. Seeing him like this was strange and made you forget for a split second why you all were in such a hurry to find him in the first place.

“What is it?” he asked, eyes scanning your worried faces. “Where are the boys?”

“Hopefully out of the pool hall,” Ji Yeon replied. Her tears were dried and she was back to looking like the alpha female, leader of the mates.

Now Junmyeon was fully awake. “What do you mean ‘hopefully out’? What happened?”

Ji Yeon’s eyes flickered over to Kris, who’d just emerged from the kitchen. “The hybrids are here. They found us at the pool hall. We got out while the rest stayed behind.”

Without waiting to hear anything else, Kris ran out of the living room, leaving the house to possibly go join in on the fight. Junmyeon groaned but didn’t stop him.

“Tao! Sehun! Luhan! Chanyeol!”

The remaining pack members came running into the living room.

“What’s going on, hyung?” Chanyeol asked.

Tao searched the crowded. “Where did Kris go?”

“The others are in trouble,” was all Jumyeon would explain. “Luhan, Chanyeol, you’re with me. Tao, Sehun, stay here and watch over the girls. Signal if anyone not friendly comes near the house.”

Sehun moved to protest. “But, hyung–”

“Those are my orders, Sehun,” Junmyeon snapped. “Stay. Here.” He turned to the older wolves. “Let’s go.”

They all ran out while Tao, huffing, collapsed down on the couch. Sehun was pacing back and forth, too pent up with energy to do the same.

“How did they find you?” Tao asked, his previous annoyance melting away to genuine concern.

Hae In shrugged, “No clue. We’re all just having a nice time and suddenly they came strolling through the door. Amazingly, they didn’t attack right away.”

Tao growled. “They like playing games. Secrecy also isn’t their priority.”

“How are they even possible?” you asked under your breath to no one in particular. You didn’t think anyone would actually care to answer, but Tao did.

“A lot of things are possible,” he sighed, running a hand through his dark brown hair. “I mean, look at us. Not to mention the witches…. But these guys, they took the possible too far.”

Cautiously, you sat down next to Tao on the couch. The others in the room – minus Sehun – settled as well, either on the floor or in other empty seats. Keeping your focus on the one who was actually giving you answers, you asked, “How did it happen?”

“Luhan is the one who knows more about this,” he admitted, “but I paid a little bit of attention. Apparently, they’re like us. Born wolves. But they decided that they wanted more power, to be at the true top of the food chain, so they tracked down some vampires to turn them.”

“That’s doable?” you asked, confounded. From the legends you’d heard, mixing the species wasn’t possible.

Tao nodded. “For some it is. Ten went searching for the vampires, only six made it through the transformation.”

“And how did they do it?” Jiyoung asked before you could. She was sitting on the floor a few feet in front of you, her eyes glued on Tao. Her knees were pulled in close to her chest with her wrapped tightly around them.

“Typically, if a wolf is a bit by a vampire, we get sick for a few days.”

Sehun scoffed. “‘Sick’ isn’t exactly how I would describe it.”

You turned to the youngest wolf. “Were you bit?”

“I got a little mouthy,” he smirked. And then it slipped away as he reminisced about the consequences. “Any physical movement was like being stabbed over and over again with a hundred knives. Not to mention I couldn’t keep anything down for days. Not exactly something I’d like to repeat.”

“I don’t think anyone would,” Kimberly mumbled.

You pursed your lips. “But you didn’t turn into a vampire – or a hybrid, I guess.”

“It doesn’t work that,” Tao clarified. “You have to exchange blood. And that’s what they all did. Found a small nest of vampires willing to try it and they allowed themselves to be food before drinking the vampire’s blood. A few days later, they woke up. And slaughtered the nest.”

“Just because?” you gaped. Those vampires – granted, you didn’t know them from Adam and they could have been murderers for all you knew – had given those wolves what they wanted, in turn just to be killed.

“Probably testing out the change,” Sehun suggested.

You looked back and forth between Sehun and Tao. “And what exactly did change?”

“You mean besides super strength, super speed, and super senses even greater than ours or a vampires?” Tao mocked. He simply rolled his eyes at your dirty look. He sighed. “They can’t change into wolves anymore. You know that weird man-wolf-thing they like to do in the movies? It’s more like that now. They’ll never be full wolves again.”

“Not to mention their fangs are more like tusks,” Sehun murmured.

“You’ve seen them up close?” Ming questioned.

Sehun nodded. “I was in the diner that night. One of them started to transform after Kris punched him. It was… scary.”

“Unnatural,” Tao added acidly.

Hae In gave him the side eye. “I don’t think you’re one to talk considering werewolves were created by magic.”

“Magic is technically natural,” Sehun whined. “If Soomi was around to hear you say that, she’d turn you into a tree!”

“Who’s Soomi?” you asked. This name was a new one.

“She’s a witch,” Kimberly answered. Then smirked. “And Junmyeon’s crush.”

“Junmyeon’s… crush?” you repeated skeptically. Wasn’t he the one who was against non-mate relationships?

“It’s never going to happen,” Sehun clarified. “It’s just fun to tease him about it.”

Ming suddenly stood up, heading towards the door to the front parlor. “I can’t stand waiting in here. I’m going out on the porch.”

Tao jumped to his feet. “But-”

You followed Ming out. “Me, too.”

No one else tried to stop you as hurried to catch up on Ming’s heels. She was already sitting down on the porch swing when you hit the cold night air. Neither of you were wearing coats or other protective material, but you didn’t care.

For a few minutes, it was silence, both of you just scanning the empty field, searching for any sign of your mates in the dark. Your breath was visible as it floated from your lips and your body shivered to keep warm.

“Yixing isn’t a fighter,” Ming whispered suddenly.

Your eyes widened at the sudden confession as you turned to her. “What do you mean?”

A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “He’s a gentle soul. Can’t stand to hurt anyone. He’s studying to be a doctor. He likes the idea of helping people, healing them. He’s not built for fighting them. But I need him to come back.”

You weren’t sure what to do or say. The urge to comfort her now as she did for you in the car itched in your arm, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Affection towards other people that weren’t Kyungsoo was still difficult for you. You felt guilty, but not knowing what else to do, you just sat there quietly.

“Kyungsoo can hold his own though,” she reassured you. “He’s always been able to take care of himself.”

Nodding, you rubbed your hands together to try and warm them up. Then you straightened up.

Something moved on the horizon. You squinted, trying to get your eyes to adjust and concentrate even with only the porch light to illuminate your surroundings. Then they began to really emerge from the trees.

“They’re here!”

You jumped up to your feet, running down the steps and into the field. One of the many silhouettes in front of you sped, coming closer until you could see his face. You collided with Kyungsoo, breaking out into tears as the others clamored out of the house behind Ming.

Reunions were happening all around between the wolves and the mates, but you blocked it out, just taking in Kyungsoo and the fact that he was there, alive in front of you. Taking a step back, you looked over your mate, taking in the scratches and blood on his face.

“I’m okay,” he said in a strained voice. That was worrisome. You figured he’d be happy that he made it back to you. His arms were taut around your waist, clinging to you.

You reached up to his face, running your thumb over his cheekbone. “What happened?”

Before Kyungsoo could reply, Hae In started yelling.

“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!”

Junmyeon, with his shirt and sweats now torn nearly to shreds, ran up to her, holding her in place. “Hae In, I need you to calm down. Please.”

“Where is he?” Hae In gasped. Still getting no answer, she started fighting against Junmyeon’s hold before escalating to punching him in the chest. “Tell me where he is! Why isn’t he here?!”

“Hae In, calm down, please.” It was obviously how much Junmyeon was fighting to remain collected himself.

She broke. Tears flowed down her face as her knees buckled, caught just in time by the alpha.

“Minseok,” you heard Ji Yeon say, unable to take your eyes off of the usually sarcastic Hae In as she sobbed in Junmyeon’s arms while he rocked her back and forth. “Where is Baekhyun?”

“They took him,” Minseok replied in a dead, monotone voice. “The hybrids took him.”

Kyungsoo pulled you in closer and you buried your face in his chest, conflicted. You felt your eyes start to water in sympathy for Hae In, but you almost felt tremendous guilty as you were thankful it wasn’t the one who held you now that was at the mercy of the deadly hybrids.

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ofrosesandash · 5 years

Photo

100+!

Holy crap, I've broken a hundred followers. And this reboot of Margaery has been kind of fantastic for me, so thank you to everyone following me, and everyone who has talked to or written with me. In honor of this milestone, I am giving a nod and a shout out to some great blogs and their writers. Due to my ass being terrible with noticing these details, I'm using the pronouns "They" because I'm not positive who is a she or a he or in between.

To begin with, my first shout-out to those I feel are constantly under appreciated: MultiMuse Blogs. I mean, there can be rare and wonderful Muses in their rosters. Running one of these Bad Boys is a HUGE commitment to multiple characters you believe you'll use frequently. These peeps are the lifeblood of RP Communities.

@astormofagirl

Cori is amazing and we go way back to when I first started writing Margaery, I wanna say in 2015. We've both bounced between in different URLs and Blogs. While I've only written with their Sansa at this time, they have a lovely selection of ladies they write quite well!

@openxstrings

They've got a selection of top notice rare muses, and at least one nifty OC. It's been a bit since I checked out the roster. The ones I've written with are Edward Covenant from "The Order", Herc Hansen from "Pacific Rim", their Pacific Rim original, and Riddick-aka the badass Scifi Anti-Hero portrayed by Vin Diesal. Not only are all of these characters available, they write them damn well. Talking with them has been a true delight; and though there is a time zone difference, it's worth waiting for them to respond. Not to mention, they're honestly just great to talk to about antics planned or occurred.

@fallesto

This lovely person reblogs a roster of their active muses. They've got some of the tougher ones in the fandom-Cleganes, Joffrey, Qyburn, Selmy, and others. The roster also currently includes all of Margaery's husband. You should, honestly, already be following them.

@asoiafundone

A multi Muse by Lady Grey. A fantastic Mun and a dynamite writer. We haven't written quite as much as I'd like yet-but we have spoken a bit. Lovely person, brilliant writer.

@orionknytechildofzeus‌

Don't let the URL fool you, they’ve got more then one muse. They've got a cool selection of OC's and Canon characters, and they're a lot of fun to write with!

@sarcasmasadefense

I haven't written with them yet (my bad), but they seem very nice, and on their roster includes the lost Tyrell brothers, Willas and Garlan!

@mcssagcinabottlc

A lovely person I spoke to and wrote with a little; their roster contains Margaery's sister in law, Leonette Fossoway.

The Squad

These are two who've had the most OOC and partial crack interactions which. These discussions have been pretty much perfect, so, I identify them as Margaery's squad.

@bastardslayer

I mean, look at that URL. There are many talented Sansa's on this site, but that URL definitely stands out to me. We've been plotting and talking out of character almost fairly regularly, and they've got a great grasp of their muse.

@chevalier-de-la-fleurs

Similarly there are a number of great Loras's out there. That said, this particular Loras writer has always been the easiest for me to talk to. I don't know them well, but they're friendly, and a great writer, and I've really enjoyed writing with them.

Precious Ones

These are people I love writing with. Maybe they aren't in Margaery's squad (at least yet), but she definitely enjoys her time with them, and is prepared to fight for them.

@outlawerofbeets

NORA IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SUNSHINE SPOT IN THE FANDOM. We mostly scream head canons about Margaery and her smol King Husband back and forth at each other, but we have threaded. It's always a treat, and it usually tugs at my heart strings. For instance, once upon a time, Margaery found herself romantic with a Tywin. And she started to apologize to Tommen and explain she didn't think it was wise if they married, because she'd fallen in love with another. When she revealed who, Nora's Tommen's response was the most precious, purest things ever. "But he's old!" Also they've got an older Tommen/Arya ship that's to die for.

@agirlofwinterfell

This is the first time Margaery has really connected to an Arya. And, like most of the older people Arya meets, she would kill for this murder inclined child. We've already got one AU for my Olen verse, where both Arya and Margaery are at the wall pretending to be boys.

@a-maimed-man-and-bitter

So far we've got one thread; but ya know, it's been great watching Margaery and Jaime interact. This is furthered by the fact that their grasp of Jaime hurts my heart.

@mombeavty

Margaery is so happy to finally connect to her twice sister by law. And honestly, I've never quite grokked full book or show canon, as I personally favor blended-so I really like what the mun has done with their muse.

The Greatest Ladies GRRM Inspired

I have a mad love for original characters. While writing a pre-established character takes talent, original characters express one's love and passion for a fandom. That fandom has inspired a whole character. Side note, I honestly love original character relations to canon characters. (If you couldn't tell). I don't see role play as needing to follow canon, as long as everyone acts in character. So, the more the merrier.

@thelittlestrcse

Margaery didn't know how much she wanted a real sister until Trysta appeared. I'm a bit slow to respond to my threads with them, but this isn't commentary on my appreciation for mun or muse.

@lilliyxn

A newer lovely muse, one can never have enough Blackwaters. Where GRRM stopped with Bronn, they decided he needed a sister.

@meryllfrey

Honestly this is an original character that's managed to stick around, and that's saying something. Writing an OC can be extremely discouraging, with minimal interaction, almost no chance at shipping. But Lady Grey's Meryll Frey is a testament of creativity and determination.

Shout Outs

These are people I've talked to but for whatever reason haven't written with yet. For some of them, this is strictly on the standard of Margaery wouldn't interact with them, or I haven't cooked up anything yet.

@truetargaryen

This is a super sweet muse running a book based Danaerys Targaryean. While I favor blended canon myself, book canon is nuanced, so pulling it off is an impressive ability. And pull it off, they do.

@exilekniight

I first ran into them on one of my OC blogs, and honestly, I love them. Other then a previous absence of Jorah Mormonts in the fandom, well, let me quote them "Jorah Mormont FUCKS". This highlights their delightful attitude.

@longmayshereignxcersei

For obvious reasons, Margaery and Cersei will never be best buddies. That said, this is still my personal favorite Cersei-and not just because they put up with my originals. They're lovely as a person, and a very talented writer with some brilliant insight about their muse.

@foreignaccent

This is another monument of the fandom. I've been dabbling between different muses since Season 3, and I can usually find that URL around. A fandom treasure, and a nice person

@potterstillstinks

In talks with them, I fleshed out Margaery's wizarding world verse. They also put up with me because we were in the middle of discussion when I found myself in the ER due to a negative medication reaction. Even checked in. So, if you've got an HP verse, I strongly suggest following this Draco Malfoy.

Shameless Self Promo For Other Blogs of Mine You Should Check Out:

Did you know the Hightower's - Margaery's Mother's Family - are actually really interesting? They have a Valyrian blade called Vigilance. Their house is one of the oldest, they man a Lighthouse, and their words are "We Light the Way". OH and more notably, they're rumored to dabble in alchemy, necromancy, and other magic. So Margaery has two side Blogs: One for her mother, and one for one of her Aunts.

@vigilantalerie

Alerie Hightower is probably the mother of your favorite Tyrell. Olenna was born a Redwyne, she doesn't count. That's right-this is Mace Tyrell's wife, mother of Willas, Garlan, Loras, Margaery-and Trysta too!

@madmaidmalora

First of all, consider that that's not just a clever url. That's literally what she's called-the Mad Maid, rumored to dabble in spells, last seen locked away with her father looking for a method to stop the Greyjoy Incursion.

Next up I have a pair of OC Families. The Wildcrows, completely Original Content, and House Ferren-mostly original content.

@thewildcrows

Technically Alyssa and Baelor Wildcrow had different names when I first conceptualized them. But those original concepts were AU's for characters whose face claims already existed in Game of Thrones-and characters I'm actually plugging in original works. As I result, I created these two. Lys and Bael Wildcrow are Sellswords born of a Night's watch Deserter and a Wildling. Their father may have been a Blackfyre, but they have no idea what that means-nor would either of them care. If I'm not bothering with giving them a claim, why bother making them Blackfyres? One: I wanted to give them purple eyes. Two: Fire invulnerability neither of them realizes they have, as they grew up isolated. I find this could make for excellent hijinks.

@ladyferren

See, I love ferrets. Probably my favorite animal. So when a canon house was revealed called Ferren with two silver ferrets on its banner, I was desperate to know more. Except there wasn't much. They existed. Banner House of House Lannister. So I got a little carried away creating a history of a House and occupants to inhabit it. While the primary character is Seiran-the sudden Lady of her house after her father's sudden death-I also have the whole damn house hold available for interactions.

Finally, just a pair of fandomless girls I think you might just like:

@trixboomblast

Beatrix is a favorite creation of mine. She's a fandomless original character with explosive tendencies, behaviors, and habits.

@wikipediawoman

This is a side blog of Beatrix. Deia was inspired by Deadpool-what with the ability to poke the Fourth Wall and know way more then she should about pre-established character. I'm winging her as well somewhere between a Time Agent from Doctor Who and a member of the Temps Commision from Netflix's Umbrella Academy Adapttion.

#Falling Petals || PSA #((HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS))#((THANK YOU!!!))

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tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

Space Nurse 11/11

Fandom(s): Men in Black & MCU! Pairing: fem!reader x Brunhilde x ? Contents: Anxiety, language, threats (psychological) A/N: Thank you for reading! As stated above, this will probably be the end of this story which is much sooner than expected (I have a lot of drafts and notes still unused)...but it didn’t get the feedback I needed to feel it was worth it. So yeah. Again: thank to you lovely people who’ve read. If I do pick it up again, then I’ll be mean enough to tag you all ;)

Jury and Judge

Everyone is listening intently to Smith’s explanation. Everyone but you. A few sentences in and your mind’s sort of slipped out of you as if your watching everything from outside. I’m slouching, you notice and immediately see your body comply by straightening up. I should listen. But you don’t because the details don’t matter as long as the fact remains that you were never meant to be here…and honestly it makes sense. You’d sent out a lot of applications because you needed a change in your work-life, but you’d not applied for anything outside of the country (as far as you could remember) which is why you’d been too curious to ignore them when they’d contacted you. And yes, it had been a clerical error (something about the servers resetting and search criteria), but now that you’ve gotten this far…fuck. Jemma, Jay, Taylor, and even Costa look pretty bummed about the conclusion that they’ve undoubtedly reached too.

“I get it, don’t rub it in!” The words plop out of your mouth, startling you as much as Smith whom you’re glaring at angrily. Back in yourself, you realize that you might as well continue now. “Something went wrong and now you’re here to fix the mistake by making sure they…the…this panel will terminate the trial period. I’m supposed to leave and never say anything about this, right?”

The sallow man glares back, eyes seemingly alive for the first time as he sneers. “Your applications has neither been vetted properly nor has it been passed through the appropriate channels! Therefore, you do not qualify for employment by any of the prestigious organisations!”

“Smith.” Fury’s calm, but no one in their right mind would argue with him. “You’ve made your point, you can go.”

You watch him turn on his heel and stalk out the still open door, nearly colliding with the person who’s leaning against the door frame. Fuck me sideways! This person you’d recognize anywhere and not necessarily with joy even though he supposedly has been exonerated. Coerced, my ass! But then an inkling of guilt pops into your heart, because how can anyone, even Loki of Asgard, withstand torture and mind control? Damn, the world used to be simpler. No aliens, no space-bugs that will turn you pink and grow extra limbs before you suffocate, and no feeling that you’ll miss out on something important unless you’re right here where it’s all happening.

I won’t let them kick me out! “All right, I get it.” You turn back to the row of people in charge of your future, ignoring Loki as he walks by you to take the last empty place. “So as things are now, technically I’ve not applied correctly for this job…you did headhunt me, though.” The comment makes Natasha and Fury smirk. “Also��I’ve seen some of what’s going on and I’ve made it through Costa’s torture, no offense –“

“None taken,” Costa smiles sweetly…sweet enough to seem like a silent promise of more painstakingly hard training.

“So really…what I’m trying to say is that it won’t make sense to kick me out. Let me apply correctly and pick up from where I’ve gotten to instead.” You know you’re right!

“It’s certainly an interesting idea,” Coulson’s the first to admit, “but what do you suppose we do with you in the meantime?”

“S-sir?”

The man rubs his receding hairline for a moment before continuing. “Without a binding contract, we’ll have no way to guarantee your safety or a salary for that matter. Also…we would be running a risk of letting you leave with this knowledge intact…we simply can’t have people out there knowing everything that’s going on yet.”

The director for MiB takes over at that moment, holding out his hands in an all-encompassing, apologetic manner. “We have ways of helping people…forget certain incidents. Normally it’d be a matter of minutes or maybe hours that we have to free their memory of, but you’ve been here much, much longer than that. We can’t just supress it without risking…erm…other things. Besides, anything we do wipe, well it can’t be reversed. What you’ve learned will be gone for good, you’d have to start over.”

“You…what?!” Is he kidding? “You don’t have to…to wipe my memories, what the hell? Just…you can keep mere here, that way you know I’m not telling on you. I could still help out as a normal nurse, maybe get some experience or theoretical knowledge.”

“We can’t grant you a clearance level if you don’t have a contract and you can’t get a contract without a proper application and so on.” There’s a strain in Coulson’s voice. Is he annoyed or frustrated? By me? “So you see…there’s no way we can accommodate you here.”

Fury’s head is tilted as he takes in how the defeat washes over you. “It was a good alternative, [Y/L/N], it really was. But no organisation can legally take you in at this moment.”

“So…you’ll risk you mind because of an error on your side?” It’s a low blow, and you know it, but the faint traces of guilt on their faces makes you feel a bit better.

Alpha has the decency to look proper sorry. “It won’t be –“

“The mortal could stay under my guardianship until the…application has been processed.”

It’s the first time you hear Loki speak, and his voice is much softer than you’d ever imagined. Bored, yeah, but still velvety. It’s not just you looking at him in surprise. Every single person in the room is staring at the black-haired man as if they’re trying to find out if he’s real or perhaps just an illusion. Hilde even pinches him, earning an annoyed swat by his hand…and the sharp sound of the slap sounds very real.

“You?” Taylor has already recovered, his normally serene expression replaced by a nearly electrifying focus. “You’d take care of someone else? A human?”

“Why not?” A wolfish grin is spreading across Loki’s face. “It is a condition for my pardoning that I interact with and help Midgardians more. What better opportunity than this? Not only can I prove my good intentions, we could perhaps even…learn from each other.” The green eyes sweep over Fury, Coulson, and Natasha before returning to you. “I’m not tied to any Midgardian organisation or group such as these people. If you agree to come with me, I can guarantee that your memories will not be destroyed, you will have the chance to see worlds beyond this one…when you come back you will be more than ready for any menial task, they could have for you here.”

The only sound in the room after Loki’s near-soliloquy is the electrical buzzing from the light above and the faint whirr of the ventilation system. You expect someone to contradict him…but no one does. Instead they all watch you intensely and wait. They wait for an answer. The plastic seat of the chair feels much too warm and sticky even through the seat of your jeans, your heart is actively trying to crawl out you throat together with the bit of breakfast you’d managed to swallow. I need to say something. Managing and intake of breath, you still end open sitting open-mouthed without a clue of what the right course of action is and suddenly it all seems overwhelming. Confusing.

“So…I have three options? That’s what you’re all saying now?” You can hear how meek you sound, and you instantly hate yourself for it.

Fury doesn’t seem to notice. “Yes. One…you forget all of this and go back to your old life, continue living that.” He’s holding up a finger for you to count along. “Two,” now there’s one more finger, “you apply properly for the position as nurse of either the H.I. or the E.T.I., but while the application is pending, you’ll still be rendered unable to recall any of this.” The serious man sends an accusatory side-glace at Alpha who decides to ignore it. “And finally, three, you take Loki up on his offer, accepting that we take no responsibility in the…consequences.”

I can’t miss what I can’t remember.

The safe choice would be to follow either the first or second plan. “When do we leave, Loki?”

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subasekabang · 6 years

Text

Ties We Bind (& Break), Chapter 3

Author: @composeregg Rating: T Word Count: 15435, Chapter total: 3415 Pairings/Characters: Joshua/Neku, Shiki/Eri, Joshua & Neku & Shiki & Beat & Rhyme & Eri in a queerplatonic poly-pile relationship. Hanekoma, Kariya. Warnings: Includes depression heavily, and mentions of suicide. Summary: One year after the Long Game, a tall boy named Yuuto Kimura, who has messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, stumbles into Neku’s life, and he can’t help but let him get close, letting him join the circle of friends.

One year after the Long Game, Joshua aches to hang out with Neku again, but the restrictions he’s gained for his transgressions are very clear: Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, is not to interact with Neku Sakuraba.

(But every rule has a loophole.)

Author’s Note: Each chapter is also being added to ao3! Here! (Small delay per chapter).

Featuring autistic/neurodivergent characters, the “Joshua is Neku’s Dead Best Friend” theory, and lots of headcanons abound.

“So not that you ain’t cool, man, but what’cha doin’ at this meet?” Beat asks, looking at Yuuto.

They’re gathered at Hachiko on a Saturday, like they’ve done twice a month since the Game. Without Eri, so they could hang out as former Game Players.

At least, Beat thought that’s what this was, but Yuuto is standing near. He’d tagged along with Neku to the meetup. None of the others are questioning it, and it makes Beat feel left out of the loop.

“Mm, and here I thought this was for people who’ve played the Game,” he says with a smile, and Beat freezes.

“Sorry, I told him I was meeting up with you guys and he invited himself along,” Neku says. “I told Shiki already, she was the first to show up last Sunday besides me, so we got to chat, but yeah. He apparently played a few years back.”

“It’s been a while since my Game week. I got to play under the previous Composer, in fact; there’s been a regime change since.” Neku frowns at that statement, a flicker across his face before it’s gone, but Beat catches it.

He also notices Rhyme’s reaction, or… lack of it. So he nudges them. “And how come you ain’t surprised by this?”

They shrug, hesitating. “I… I could feel it. My instincts said he’d been touched by the Game, and trusting your instincts is important.”

Ah.

Beat wraps an arm around them, giving a big squeeze. He knows they haven’t told the others yet, and he hasn’t either, but they don’t keep secrets from each other, and… Being a Noise for a bit did something to Rhyme. They get glimpses of the UG, see and feel the presence of Noise, and sometimes they talk about it. Noise running on basic emotions, how it’s heightened their instincts, and how they have to restrain those more now.

Being a Reaper means he didn’t get out unscathed either. The UG is greyscale, hazy, but there in his sights. Power pulses under his skin, buried deep in his core. It’s locked away, he can’t reach it, but if he could…

It’s not a risk he’s willing to take. Beat doesn’t want to be a Reaper, and he doesn’t need that power.

“So, where should we hang out today?” Shiki asks, steering the conversation back onto the tracks. “I’d offer the studio, but Eri said she wanted to get some work done, so she’s there right now.”

“Me and Rhyme’s parents is home, so our place is a no-can-do, sorry yo,” he says.

“And my place is too small to hold us all. Or at least, my mom thinks so, and she’s home.” Neku sighs.

Yuuto grins, and chimes in, “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, asking if you’d like to come to my place, but… Like I said before, rich parents and I live alone.”

“Cool wit’ me,” says Beat, and the others agree.

One quick walk later and, “You live here!?” Shiki gasps, holding a hand to her chest. “If you can afford a Pork City apartment, you must not’ve been joking about rich family!”

“Not just any apartment, the penthouse. The lap of luxury, all to myself!” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “It’s so boring and lonely being isolated there all the time.”

It’s an expensive place to rent, Beat knew that, but as they walk through the halls illuminated by chandeliers and past lounges and rooms of all sorts to the elevator, it starts to sink in just how extravagant this place is.

“It’s a bit much, I think,” Yuuto says, “but I’m not gonna argue where my parents put me. Just a heads up though, a lot of Reapers live here too. I think it’s part of being in the Game, they still need a place to stay, after all.”

With a flourish, he opens the door, and plops down on a recliner chair. Beat follows him in, as do the rest, and Yuuto instructs them to make themselves at home so they all get situated. Neku stakes a claim on the other empty chair, while Beat ends up on the couch, Rhyme in the middle, with Shiki on the other end.

“Sooo,” says Yuuto, “what do y’all do when you gather like this, Players only?”

“Talk, vent, throw stuff at each other, make bad jokes and memes,” Neku says, slipping his headphones down so they rest around his neck. “We should probably share Game stories first, since you’re new here.”

Yuuto nods. “Mm… Well, I played about two years ago. My partner was Uzuki Yashiro,” he says, continuing without noticing the way the rest of them tense, the way the background music jumps as the CD hits a scratch. “She’s a Reaper now, as far as I know. We did not get along well, but we survived.”

“She’s awful,” Shiki groans. “We all had to deal with her, and she’s a manipulative slimy asshole.”

“Sounds about right,” he says with a snort. The next words out of Yuuto’s mouth were softer: “My Fee was my friend’s memories of me. They managed to nitpick something I’d done, and I didn’t get it back. He remembers nothing.”

Neku winces, Shiki gasps, Rhyme closes their eyes and sighs, and Beat… He can only think of Rhyme, and how they never recognized him as their brother. Every little thing they should’ve been able to think of, from calling him bro to their jokes and the quiet nights they’d whisper to each other, not wanting to be alone. Losing that, forever?

It’d destroy him.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to forget someone so close to you forever,” Neku says. He’s sitting sideways on the chair, legs draped over one of the armrests and his head against the other. “I mean, the memories are just gone? How do you not realize you’re missing something? How do other people not notice, if they were so close to you?”

“I remember,” Rhyme sighs. “I remember what it was like to forget. It’s like, you know that person exists, know who they were to you, but all the little details were gone. Name, face, specific memories… dust in the wind.”

Beat wraps an arm around them, and they lean on him. Soft touches, a solid presence, reminders that they’re there for each other. That they haven’t left or forgotten.

Yuuto nods at the words, and dangles himself upside-down off the chair, hair skimming the wooden floor. “He doesn’t remember me. He knows he had a friend, but I haven’t tried to rekindle that bond… I miss him, but I lost it all when I lost my Fee.”

“Well hey, maybe you’ll get another chance someday!” Shiki says, cheer infused in her voice. “Not every end is final, and even if he doesn’t remember the details, I’m sure he’d love to have an old friend back.” She’s hops up on the back of the couch, feet hanging in front of the back cushion.

“The world begins with you and all that jazz, huh?” Yuuto snorts. “Your world gets bigger if you reach out to others. Maybe I’ll tell him, sometime. For now, I’ll wait and see what the future holds.”

Chat: [It’s not gay if we’re dead]

[Emo gay has added Yuuto Kimura to the chat]

Emo gay: Welcome to the dead kid’s club.

A lot of this chat is Shiki yelling about how cute Eri is.

An entire 50% of this chat is all of us being queer.

Fashion lesbian: Listen,

She’s beautiful and I’m gay as hell.

And she’s not in this chat so I’m allowed to scream.

Yuuto Kimura: Noted.

[Yuuto Kimura has changed their name to Music queer]

Music queer: I figured I should fit the theme.

Space battery: Nice name!

Music queer: Thanks I picked it out myself!

I must ask, though, why battery?

Space battery: I’m triple-A.

Skateboard ace: And they always got enough energy to charge up everyone else

Space battery: Beat,

You should take a look at yourself sometime, you’ve got enough energy to power the sun!

Emo gay: Another 20% of this chat is these two being adorable siblings so jot that down.

Music queer: What’s the last 30%?

Emo gay: 20% memes and dead jokes, 10% depression.

Music queer: You know what? Valid.

I think I’ll fit right in.

Rhyme likes Yuuto, they really do! It’s been a month since he’s joined the group, and he’s been nothing but fun. Maybe not the nicest, he likes to tease Neku, but he’s got good intentions, so they like him!

It’s just…

There’s something wrong about him.

Indescribably, horrifically wrong.

Noise do not draw near him. If one gets too close, they freeze and dart away. His mere presence wards them all, and Rhyme can sense it, the Noise are afraid.

Rhyme knows this, because they feel the same.

An instinctual terror, prickling at the hair on their arms, raising the alarm. They squash it down, tuck it away until it doesn’t bother them, but it’s there. Clawing at the back of their throat.

They’ve felt it before, in the presence of Neku’s 2nd week Game Partner. Joshua.

It’s fuzzy, grey-scaled and water-damaged, but they remember being a Noise, operating on instinct alone. They remember when they were returned to a human form, to life.

They remember the Composer.

So they message him.

Rhyme: Hey can we talk today? At WildKat, preferably.

Yuuto: Sure. May I ask why?

Rhyme: You can, but I’m not answering that here, only in person.

Which is how they find themself seated in a booth across from Yuuto after school that evening. Untouched coffee sits before both of them, steam curling up and away.

“So,” he draws, picking up his cup, “Are you going to answer my question now?”

They nod. “Your name is actually Joshua, and you’re the Composer.”

Coffee splashes over the table and over his lap as Yuuto flinches back and drops it. With a yelp, he jumps up, hissing, “Ow! Fuuuuck that’s hot!”

They watch as he hops around, grabbing at napkins to clean up. With a roll of their eyes, they say, “I’m right, aren’t I? You can use your powers if I am, no sense hiding them.”

He spares a glance at Rhyme, and then waves a hand to make the mess disappear.

“Well, I’m sure that answers your question,” he says, sliding back into his seat. “Do I get to know how you figured it out?”

“I remember,” they say. “Not… Not well, most of my time as Noise is static, but I remember what it’s like. During the second week of it all, I know Neku’s Partner set me on edge, and when the Composer brought me back, I remember that flighty feeling from then, too. You’ve got the same vibe.”

Yuuto rubs his forehead, taking a long, deep breath. “This was unexpected,” he mutters. “You want to know why I’m lying about my identity, I assume.”

Rhyme nods. “I also want to know if you plan on messing with Neku again,” they say. When Yuuto’s eyes widen, they cut in before he can speak. “He didn’t tell us what you did, but we can all see how he acts. You did something. You don’t have to tell me what you did, Neku isn’t ready for us to know, but I want to make sure you won’t do it again.”

“Fair enough,” he says, and then his color starts to bleed away.

The black seeps out of his hair, and it bounces into wavy curls. Green flashes to purple in his eyes, and his skin goes a few shades paler. Nothing about the structure of his face changes, but he takes off his glasses, and there’s Joshua, sitting in front of them.

“I’ll start simple. I promise I mean no harm to Neku.” At their snort, he frowns. “I mean that! I hold my past actions in great contempt. I wasn’t in a good space, mentally. Like, you met Neku early on during the Game, I was like that, but a hundred times worse.”

“Oh.”

He laughs. “Yeah, oh. I won’t say what I did, but it was bad, and he has every right to be mad. I didn’t expect him to want to see me, after everything.”

“He does though, so hiding behind a false face is a cowardly move.”

“My superiors would rather I not interact with him at all. This is my loophole,” he says, which, what?

It’s a puzzle, and they don’t have all the pieces, but with some work and head-tilting, they can still make out the picture. “You were told not to meet up with him, weren’t you?”

“Bingo, but they specified Yoshiya Kiryu, Composer of Shibuya, not Yuuto Kimura, ex-Game Player who lived in America these past two years.”

Rhyme crosses their arms over their chest, leaning back. “Clever. Going to fake this forever, then?”

“Nah, working on getting that rule repealed.”

“And what will you do when it is? Your reveal will be another betrayal, another way you stab him in the back, because he’ll think it’s been an elaborate joke.” It’s dramatic, but Neku would. At first.

Joshua snorts. “I know him better than you do. I know he’ll call me an asshole and think I’m messing with him, pulling his strings, but I have some stuff I can say, which might help.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“The truth.”

“Okay, so first things first, we need to get your measurements!” Shiki says, measuring tape in hand as Eri grabs the notepad and pen.

Yuuto laughs. “No time to waste?”

The studio is a mess, mannequins with half-finished projects hanging off them, fabric strewn across the floor, needles shoved into the armrest of the couch, spools of thread in corners and on shelves, and design papers scattered around the room.

It’s perfect. Creativity spawned from this disaster, beauty found in the calamity of a localized tornado. Shibuya’s life shines bright in spaces like this, her Soul strengthened, bursting with energy.

Were he not Yuuto right now, he’d love to soak up the Imagination and refine it, give them good luck for ages.

“Of course, of course! Why dilly-dally when we can get this ball rolling?” Eri laughs, pulling him out of the doorway and into the room proper. “Now let Shiki work her magic!”

He does, standing still as Shiki measures and calls out numbers. Eri dutifully writes them down, and he lets Shiki adjust his positioning as needed to get the most accurate results.

Once Shiki has the measurements, he plops down onto the couch, a grin on his face. There’s more than enough seating for the three of them. The entire gang had crashed here the day before. “So, this thing you’re gonna have me model, what is it?”

Eri flits around, grabbing her sketchpad and pencils, before sitting at her desk. “We’re going to start with something simple first. Maybe a basic suit, or a dress? You could rock either. How do you feel about pink? I feel like it’d suit you well. Or maybe a bright green, or something more forest-y. It’d go well with your eyes.”

“Ooh, pink is always fun, but you’re right, green would match my eyes. I absolutely love blues and purples too, by the way!” He leans back, pulling out a sheet of paper for himself, and a pencil. “Musical motifs are fun, since I’m a composer of music.”

Shiki’s head snaps up to look at him, but he gives no reaction back. Eri, meanwhile is going “Oooh,” and scrawling that down as a note.

“Music notes would be cool to work into some of the things we make you in the future! Little embroidered notes and designs! It’d be super cute!” she says, a grin lighting up her face.

Danger lurks in the room, Shiki refusing to take her eyes off him, but Eri remains oblivious. He gives Shiki a wink, after a moment, playing it off with a shrug. She huffs, and turns her attention back to the doodles Eri is scrawling.

“Mm, we could add some lacework, couldn’t we?” she asks.

Yuuto sighs, tapping his fingers against the fabric of the couch. “If you do add lace, could you keep it minimal or in places that won’t rub against my skin? The texture can be irritating as all hell.”

“Noted!” Eri scribbles that down in the margins as well. At this rate, they’re no doubt going to have a folder on his preferences and design ideas.

The thought of them keeping a record on him sends a spark of warmth through his heart. Watching them squabble over design ideas in the afternoon sunlight, filtering in through the window, makes the sight look like home.

The kid sitting in front of Koki is not one he knows. It’s not one he’s ever met or talked to before. He’d been enjoying his meal when this kid walked into Ramen Don and sat across from him.

Except that’s a lie.

Koki might not know this kid with short black hair and green eyes, but he knows those glasses, he knows that grin, and he knows the Music.

“What’s up, J?”

“Shhh, I’m Yuuto like this, remember?” He holds a finger to his lips, hiding his smile. “Can’t have you talking about my secret when the others could waltz right in and see me.”

Koki snorts. “And what will they say if they walk in on their good friend Yuuto having lunch with a Reaper?”

“They know I’ve always seen the UG, I’ll just tell them the truth. I’ve known you since before I ever played, and you’re just a weird uncle type dude.” Yuuto grins, and orders some Shio while they talk.

“Alright, you got me there. I pull off weird uncle well, don’t I?” he asks with a laugh.

“You do, you really do.”

Koki takes a bite of his own ramen, slurping it up. It’s been a while since he’s gotten food with the little brat, but it’s well worth it to make sure he’s eating. The kid always forgets to take care of himself, so if Koki has to step up the family-figure role in his life to ensure he does, so be it.

“So, how’s the whole friends thing goin’, anyway? It’s been a few months so far, right?”

Josh shrugs. “Yeah, it has. It’s going good. They’re all… really nice to me,” he says, fiddling with his hair. “Like, Rhyme, the one that got Erased, they figured out who I am, and they still accept me, though… They don’t know the whole story, but still!”

Ramen arrives, and so Josh has to speak between bites now, as Koki sits and listens to him ramble. “Neku checks up on me and makes sure I’m not left out. He keeps me from retreating into my shell. Shiki and Eri have already been working on making me clothes because they need more models,” he laughs. “Beat is trying to teach me how to skateboard, and I have to remember not to heal up my scrapes and bruises because that’d be suspicious.”

“You’re happy with them all, huh?” he asks. It’s obvious to him, the way Josh lights up, even in this false form. This is the most friends he’s ever had, and it shows in the hands he waves in the air, the glint of life in his eyes, how much this means to him.

“Yeah! I mean, I wish I could tell Neku,” the blinding smile dims at the statement, “but I can’t. This is the best alternative to that.”

“Hey, in a year or two? You’ll be able to tell him, so don’t sweat about that. I’m sure he’ll understand.” With the way his mom raised him, he’d better, Koki doesn’t say, but he thinks it. It had taken a bit of digging, and it’s such a trivial fact, one thread of being related, but it’s there.

He died before he could see his little sister have children, over a hundred years ago. Now, he’s found a distant descendant. He’s an uncle, with a few greats in front of the grand, but he’s an uncle to somebody alive.

The conversation continues, both of them unaware of the figure watching from outside the window. With a snap, Shiki takes a picture of Yuuto hanging out with a Reaper, eyes narrowing.

She’s got her suspicions. They’ve grown a bit stronger now.

#TWEWY #The World Ends With You #World Ends With You #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #TWEWY Bang 2018 #submission

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