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#ALSO ALSO ALSO I haven’t received my like review yet they just gave me the playlist
arachnidiots-a · 6 months
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GOOD MORNING!! I SEE EVERYONE GOT THEIR WRAPPED!!! if anyone wants to tell me about theirs and show me id love to know what songs captured your heart and mind and also embarrass you to hell and back!
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unganseylike · 5 months
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 Hi y’all! As promised, here’s my 2023 reading wrap-up – my reviews and thoughts about some of the books I read this year :) As a heads up, some of these reviews may contain very very vague and mild spoilers just because I personally feel like it’s impossible to give a good sense of my thoughts on media without that; so I’ll list the books I’m going to include in the order mentioned above the cut in case you want to 100% avoid any potential spoilers. Another disclaimer- these reviews are each quite different in content; my goal was to give a synopsis (except for a few I didn’t feel were worth my time), give my thoughts and mostly-non-spoilery takeaways, and connect to an overarching theme of this post. My initial goal was to write like 2 sentences for each book, but that definitely is not what happened. This is a long post. A long post where I gave into my inner booktuber and wrote like I was doing a video. I enjoyed writing this, but. It’s a lot. You might not enjoy reading it.
If you’ve read these books, I’d love to hear what you all thought…Since these are all books I read this year, I haven’t gotten to re-read any yet, and I’d love to have some new things to think about when I do! Please tell me if you check out these books after reading my list <3
Also…let me know if you have any books you’d recommend. I think this list might just give a sense of my picky taste. 
I’d like to give a shoutout the love of my life, Libby, for making this possible.
Books, in order of mention, with numerical ratings: 
What Moves the Dead- T. Kingfisher: 5/10
The Hollow Places- T. Kingfisher: 6.5/10
The Hacienda- Isabel Cañas: 9/10
The Honeys- Ryan La Sala: 7/10
I’m Thinking of Ending Things- Iain Reid: 7.5/10
The Ruins- Scott Smith: 3.5/10
The Cabin at the End of the World- Paul Tremblay: 4.5/10
The Beautiful Ones- Silvia Moreno-Garcia: 4/10
The Daughter of Doctor Moreau- Silvia Moreno-Garcia: 6/10
Where Ivy Dares to Grow- Marielle Thompson: 5/10
Beloved- Toni Morrison and The Turn of the Screw- Henry James (brief discussion, no ratings)
Paris Is a Party, Paris Is a Ghost- David Hoon Kim: 8.5/10
The Fragile Threads of Power- V.E. Schwab: 4/10
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue- V.E. Schwab: 4/10
When the Angels Left the Old Country- Sacha Lamb: 6.5/10
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes- Suzanne Collins: 8.5/10
Project Hail Mary- Andry Weir: no rating because didn’t finish (bad)
Station Eleven- Emily St. John Mandel: 7.5/10
Severance- Ling Ma: 9/10
Annihilation- Jeff VanderMeer: 9.5/10
The Archive of Alternate Endings: Lindsey Drager: 8/10
Ok, let’s kick this off with my first category: horror and/or I read this because I thought it was horror but it wasn’t. Over the last two years or so, I’ve gotten into reading horror–ish books, because I like the genre expectations, and it freaks me out less to read it than watch it.
Over the summer, I decided to check out T. Kingfisher. I’d heard good stuff about her as a horror author. I first read What Moves the Dead. This is an adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s short story “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Both this book and the new Netflix show are pretty different from the original and each other, but of the two adaptations, What Moves the Dead is probably closer in tone and setting (19th century countryside, gothic elements), but that’s mainly because the Netflix show has barely anything to do with the original (thanks Mike Flanagan!). Like the original, the plot kicks off with the narrator receiving a letter from the Ushers asking for help, leading them to travel to a crumbling manor. On the other hand, Kingfisher’s book does casually take place in what must be an alternate reality; it’s set in the fictional country Ruritania, and the narrator, Alex, is from another fictional country Gallicia. This world building mainly functions to normalize nonbinary identity and unique sets of pronouns. This does play into the plot, but I feel like it wasn’t necessary to create a fictional culture just for this, or otherwise it should’ve played more of a role in the story…like the narrator could’ve just said ka uses neopronouns and it would’ve been more straightforward than creating whole new countries. This worldbuilding aspect was probably my biggest issue with the book (though of course I love cool linguistic discussions about pronouns and gender!), maybe along with the random cameos by Eugenia Potter (as in, relative of thee Beatrix Potter, of Peter Rabbit fame). There are some great creepy bits with fungus, rot, rabbits, and corpses. There are some similarities to the fungal horror in Mexican Gothic (which T. Kingfisher actually discusses in the appendix), but it’s not quite the same – either way, we love the crossover between fungus and gothic lit! Overall, certainly a far better adaptation of Poe’s story than Mike Flanagan’s, but some of the original content seemed out of place, while other original aspects needed more fleshing out. 5/10. 
I decided to try another book by T. Kingfisher, The Hollow Places, which I had heard really good things about! This one’s an adaptation of the novella “The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood, which features some sinister willows and cosmic horror (fun fact: I read the novella because Algernon Blackwood is where Martin Blackwood of TMA gets his last name) (fun fact 2: read “The Willows” it fucks. it’s free on project gutenberg). Unlike What Moves the Dead, Hollow Places takes place very much in the present, following a recently divorced woman who moves into her uncle’s museum of oddities. She and her GBF (okay, actually, he’s the eccentric middle aged neighbor who is a barista at the cafe the narrator goes to get wifi, but he does feel a bit gay best friend cliche to me) slip through a hole in reality to an in-between dimension full of willow-y islands…and hungry eldritch beings beyond their perception. Please appreciate that full sentence. I really liked the times while the duo was in this other place, but some of the moments in their own dimension felt a bit discordant; I honestly think it’s because their present was so modern. Like it felt weird to read them discussing memes after exploring a deadly pocket world. But maybe that’s the point of setting horror/fantasy in the modern world instead of a vague past. Despite this complaint, I actually think this a better adaptation in comparison to What Wakes the Dead, with original content nicely expanding on aspects of the novella. I did kinda hate the climax, but I’ll ignore that and rate this 6.5/10. When you fear getting torn apart by terrifying otherworldly beings, it really does put your ex-husband’s annoying texts into perspective. 
Before I get back to mid books, let’s talk about one I really liked: The Hacienda from Isabel Cañas. I actually wrote a few notes about this right when I read it because I knew I wanted to share something about it eventually. Those notes were: “cinematic, especially in flashbacks, not so typical final girl or just female protag period.” Which was not that helpful for writing this review because I don’t remember wtf I was talking about, but I’ll try to interpret past-Julia for you all. The book takes place after the Mexican War for Independence, during which the father of the main character, Beatriz, was executed. So, with her and her mother dependent on the goodwill of their cruel estranged family, Beatriz happily accepts a proposal from a hacienda owner and is ready to prove herself a capable homemaker. But, there’s something deeply wrong with the house, something that wants Beatriz dead. The only one that believes her is the priest Andrés, who has recently returned to the area, where his beloved grandmother had taught him witchcraft and had been a pillar of the community. He struggles to keep his witchcraft secret, while protecting Beatriz and trying to take on his grandmother’s mantle. I think I enjoyed nearly every moment of this book! I got a little stuck on the beginning, but once I got through the first few chapters, I was so invested in the story and was really following the ups and downs as Beatriz tries to solve the mystery and escape some evil shit. I loved the main characters, especially the women and Beatriz’s role as a gothic/horror heroine (hence the “not so typical final girl” note?), and I remember being surprised by the actions of characters I thought I was rooting for! Also, it must be said. Hot. Priest. I’m not generally a big fan of romances, but it worked for me lol. And, as I said in my notes, some scenes were so cinematic- I could picture exactly how they’d play out in a (good) movie. 9/10! I need to reread this, it was one of my favorite books I read this year! 
Around the same time, I read The Honeys by Ryan La Sala, and also had written down some terrible notes (adding some punctuation to make it semi-readable): “the horror of hypermasculinity, hyperfemininity, and the gender binary, bees, mean girl cliques, superorganisms like bees and aspen and rot. Actually very similar to midsommar in terms of grieving protag and sunlight horror and uhhhh joining a cult. Also I learned the term social horror.” I think that says it all…but I’ll give a more clear summary. When Mars’ twin sister dies terribly, he decides to attend her preppy summer camp in her place to reconnect with her memory and learn about her strange violent death. Mars is genderfluid and has always struggled in his political and public-facing family, thus resulting in his parents placing their hopes and confidence in his sister. But at Aspen Conservatory, Mars finds himself drawn away from the traditional gender roles of the camp and toward his sister’s elite and insular female friend group, the Honeys. They seem to accept Mars as one of their own, but what exactly does that mean? Overall, I really enjoyed the book, especially for all the creepy stuff that happens by daylight. It’s a great example of social horror; the gender binary sure is sinister in this book! I had a few complaints though. I thought Mars was a fun protagonist, but I didn’t always understand his motivations and occasionally he felt a bit annoying to me…but he is a teenager who has just witnessed his sister’s horrific death, so perhaps that behavior was intentional. I wasn’t a fan of the mystery reveal/conclusion, it felt a bit out-of-left-field to me, but maybe I just missed something. Also, it was a little too YA for me at this point in my life (though I wouldn’t actually classify it as strictly YA, if that makes sense), but I’m picky about genre, as you will see in these reviews. 7/10– after writing this review, I’m definitely considering rereading so I can see if I pick up on more foreshadowing!
I had a note saved for my next book I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Iain Reid), but it’s a spoiler for the entire thing so I won’t share. All I’ll say is, it was a joke about final girls…you’ll get it if you read it. I read this after trying to watch the movie on Netflix and giving up because it was boring in a discomfiting way (the stilted conversation and repetition was all intentional but it was getting to me), but I still wanted to know what happened and figured the things that bothered me in a film media wouldn’t be problematic in a book. I honestly don’t know how to describe this because it’s super surrealist and very easy to spoil with any of my personal takeaways. Most basic summary of all time: a woman questioning her relationship with her new boyfriend decides to go on a road trip to meet his parents. I actually recommend watching the movie trailer to see whether you’d like the book, because it gives a good sense of the inexplicable weird and tense vibe and atmospheric horror. 7.5/10 because reading this made me feel itchy. It was supposed to make me uneasy, and it sure did the job.
Ok, next are two books I don’t feel like describing in depth because they were mid/bleh. The first is The Ruins, by Scott Smith. I just learned they made a movie of this? I was thinking that it would actually work better as a movie than a book, but apparently it did terribly in theaters. Quick summary- four young American tourists in Mexico explore Mayan ruins in search of a fellow traveler, but become trapped on a hill covered with man-eating vines. The official summary mentions “a creeping horror” and “the terrifying presence that lurks there,” so I want to explicitly say that the big bad is man-eating vines because I was expecting something a bit deeper based on the blurb. I’d classify this as survivalist/nature/psychological horror and want to note it’s pretty gory. I’d give 3.5/10. It’s fine, but not what I look for out of the horror genre. 
The second book is The Cabin at the End of the World (Paul Tremblay). I saw really good reviews for this (btw there’s also a movie, which I haven’t watched but apparently is very different), but it also wasn’t all that interesting to me. I honestly don’t remember the plot very well/don’t feel like I have anything to write about it, so you might be better off looking it up, sorry. I’d give 4.5/10 though. 
Next, we have a few books that fit under the “I read these thinking they’d be horror” umbrella. This is my own fault for assuming Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s other books would be similar to Mexican Gothic. I would say I mainly didn’t like these books because I thought they were going to be a different genre, so take my word with a grain of salt. I read Moreno-Garcia’s The Beautiful Ones and The Daughter of Doctor Moreau over the summer. The Beautiful Ones is what I learned is called a “novel of manners,” where the quirky main character must navigate elite society to search for a suitor. The twist is that this takes place in a historical fantasy universe– the main character and her love interest have telepathic powers. I wish that the fantasy elements were more smoothly incorporated; I think this book could’ve been much better as magical realism. Even if the author didn’t want magic to be the main focus but for it to still be included in the story, magical realism would make that possible! I’d give 4/10, but that’s partially because I’m not really interested in the genre; if you like romance or YA fantasy with a twist, this might be fun, but I unfortunately do not! 
I somehow made the same mistake with The Daughter of Doctor Moreau. Okay, actually this one might’ve been a result of requesting it on Libby months before, then forgetting what it was by the time I got the book. This one I liked a bit better because the story had more interesting political meaning and is sci-fi/historical fiction, but it still wasn’t 100% for me. It’s inspired by H.G. Wells’ The Island of Doctor Moreau, which I haven’t read, so I can’t comment on this as an adaptation. It takes place at a hacienda in 19th century Yucatan, Mexico, where Dr. Moreau experiments making human/animal hybrids and cares for his sickly daughter, Carlota; beyond their estate, a Mayan rebellion is mounting. The plot kicks off as the Moreau’s resources dwindle, and they hope to resolve their financial troubles with a union between Carlota and their patron’s son…but, of course, things are not what they seem at the hacienda. I enjoyed reading the book, mainly for the commentary on connections between colonialism and patriarchy, and was definitely invested in the story, but I think it just wasn't my taste– all in all, though, 6/10.
One more book in this category, but this one’s not actually my fault. This one actually mentions Mexican Gothic in the description just to fuck with me I guess. Where the Ivy Dares to Grow (Marielle Thompson) does indeed intentionally use gothic tropes and subverts them, which I guess is cool, if you don’t carry a sense of betrayal about getting gothic lit baited :/ Saoirse travels with her fiance to his family’s ancestral manor as his mother reaches the end of her life, but his parents have nothing but contempt for Saoirse. Plus, the passion has long since cooled between her and her fiance, especially as he has grown exasperated with her mental illness that causes her to disconnect from reality. Though the manor seems unwelcoming at first, she eventually grows attuned to its idiosyncrasies, and begins to slip back in time to meet her fiance’s charming ancestor. While I found a lot of this book frustrating (not just because of the genre betrayal…), I did like the incorporation of a protagonist with a dissociative disorder (specifically, Depersonalization-Derealization Disorder) into a fantasy genre. I think many times with fantasy, characters will question their sanity, only to be reassured with the realization of the truth of their magical reality. Here, the fantasy setting doesn’t negate Saoirse's struggle with mental illness, or vice versa. I think the conclusion was well done in this vein, and it increased my perception of the whole book. Despite my bitterness. 5/10. 
Before we leave the horror genre, I want to mention 3 books I read during my ghost fixation this spring, which don’t 100% fit as horror, but y'know, ghosts. I read Beloved (Toni Morrison) for the first time ever! There’s a million things online/in literature about Beloved, it’s a classic, nothing unique I can say, other than it’s so so incredible and who am I to give it a rating. My class read The Turn of the Screw (Henry James), which is the 1898 novella that “Haunting of Bly Manor” is based on (once again, Mike Flanagan is out here making wild adaptations…). We discussed it through a queer theory lens, and I recommend reading it with attention to sexuality and innocence, and how interrogating these things can be deeply violating. 
I read an excerpt of David Hoon Kim’s Paris Is a Party, Paris Is a Ghost for that same class, and I liked it so much that I read the whole book. Fun fact- half of the title alludes to the poem “Ghost Q&A” by Anne Carson, which I actually used in a web weaving post (here’s the relevant line: “A: have you been to Paris; Q: no; A: Paris is a ghost; Q: no it’s not”).  It plays with nonlinear time, since ghosts classically disrupt the progression of time and the definition of a “present;” us trc folks are quite familiar with that… The book follows (in the most ghostly use of the word) Henrik, a Japanese adoptee raised by Danish parents, an expat living in Paris. To top off the layers of identity and belonging, Henrik begins working for a blind physicist (i.e., someone who can’t see and question his ethnic background) as a translator between English and French, neither of which is his first language. The book is divided into three parts across Henrik’s life; the first centers around the implications of his girlfriend’s hikikomori. The third part focuses on Henrik later in adulthood, which I personally found less engaging than the other two (which I REALLY liked), but that may just be me and my interests as a young person, and that was my only issue with the book. I’d say this book is for fans of nonlinear storytelling, ghosts (of course), interrogation of identity, language and the art of translation, ambiguity, and weird shit. 8.5/10. Also I have a pdf of the first chapter (from when I read it for class), so DM me if you want to read a sample. 
Finally, we are done with horror (or are we? More on that later).
Next is a category I call “YA/YA adjacent/adult fantasy/gave me YA vibes sorry I know this is a controversial classification but that’s how I think of it.” 
I’ve already made two petty posts about the two V.E. Schwab books I read this year , The Fragile Threads of Power and The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (here’s one post, can’t find the other now). They were…fine. First, Fragile Threads– it’s a spinoff series (?) from A Darker Shade of Magic, which I read a while ago and liked but forgot the details, so I think I’m a pretty good objective reviewer here. This new book takes place seven years after the original series and follows the original main characters and a few new ones. I think it was a good choice to have this fairly hefty time skip. The original characters are now in their late 20s/early 30s, which is unusual in the genre (or often post-time skip, the characters’ issues will be suddenly all solved and they’re all comfortably settled into adult life and domesticity). On the other hand, the new main characters are both tween girls, which felt like a strange choice and made everything feel kinda disconnected. I would’ve liked to spend more time with the new characters; the older set had pretty disproportionate screen time (perhaps Schwab felt readers who are big fans of ADSOM would be unhappy otherwise?). The major plot beats felt really rushed and unearned (especially the resolution of one of the major conflicts offscreen…if you’ve read it you know what I mean). When the next books in this new series come out, I’ll check them out, but I’m not that invested. 4/10. Regarding Addie LaRue, yea it was mid and I don’t feel like delving into it. readwithcindy has a video about the whiteness of the book  and books like it, which is worth checking out. Also 4/10. I still don’t believe that every person in the world would feel compelled to COMMENT ON ADDIE’S FUCKING FRECKLES WHAT IS SO SPECIAL ABOUT HAVING SEVEN FRECKLES I DON’T GET IT??????? Anyway. 
As per many tumblr recommendations, I read When the Angels Left the Old Country (Sacha Lamb). It’s a queer Jewish immigrant story that follows an angel and demon who are chavrusas (Talmudic study partners); they leave their shtetl for America to find and help a girl from their village. Along the way and through their time in America, they explore things like free will, gender, names and identity, labor justice, and fucking up rich people. I felt like this was a good historical fantasy, and I’m always up for Jewish fantasy! I’m not super into the angel and/or demon thing I know tumblr people like, so fans of those tumblr posts that are like “an angel is actually high tension wires” would probably like this. 6.5/10 - not 100% my taste, but definitely a fun read and I can’t believe this is the only really Jewish book I read this year. Someone tell me about more Jewish books please. 
There’s a couple other books I read in this category, but I don’t feel strongly about commenting on them (and we definitely don’t need to discuss the fact I read two game of thrones books in like a week for no reason), so let’s move on to my next set, sci-fi/apocalypse-y/dystopia. 
I read A Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds early this year. Obviously lots of people have been discussing it recently because of the movie, so all I’ll say is that I was pleasantly surprised. I was nervous it might be another pointless spinoff about a villain’s backstory (and trying to justify their actions), but this is definitely not that. This book had shit to say, and it was really well done. 8.5/10. 
I want to start the rest of this category with a book I didn’t like before getting into books in this genre that I felt worked so much better, at least for me. My brother sent me a paragraph-long text with a glowing review of Project Hail Mary (Andy Weir). He’s not a big texter, so I figured I had to check it out- I joined the long long waiting list for the book. And, I couldn’t get through it. I really tried, but everything about it annoyed me so much, despite the fact I had liked The Martian which is a fairly similar style. First, the narrator exemplifies the worst of scientist characters; while reading this book, I posted several times to complain about this problem. If you haven’t seen my many personal posts about my life, I currently work in a microbiology lab and ultimately want to become a research scientist. I regularly interact with truly incredible scientists, people I aspire to be like one day. But if I asked my supervisor to calculate a star’s orbit in her head, I think she might slap me. I really don’t think you can write a realistic scientist who is an expert in every subject, and the weirdly humble and immature attitude of the book’s narrator pissed me off more because of this. The fact he claims to be a microbiologist but seems to do everything but microbiology is beyond the point…It would be much more interesting to me to have the narrator find himself so out of his depth in a time of crisis and/or when alone in space. Of course, this would require some more creativity to move the plot forward, but that could be really cool! My other major reason for not finishing was the actual apocalyptic conflict. This was more a personal thing for me than a book problem; the conflict is a bit convoluted, but not bad in itself. Honestly, reading about an all-consuming response to a planetary crisis was just overwhelming and some aspects of their stopgap solutions made me physically nauseous (I don’t want to give specific spoilers but uh. I think the idea of what happens with the Sahara and Antarctica were what actually made me finally stop reading). On the other hand, it made me so sad to think about a reality where such a crisis warrants the appropriate response. We have a real planetary threat on our hands, and we can’t even mobilize the bare minimum measures because of the same capitalist and exploitative motivations that have driven climate change this whole time. This second unrealistic aspect gave me a good dose of climate doom. I can’t rate the book because I didn’t finish, but I’d be really interested to hear your thoughts on this one, since I don’t understand why it has been so praised. 
I do think it’s possible to more realistically handle the idea of proportionate crisis response and normalcy/lack thereof in an apocalypse situation. We have all been living through a pandemic and have all personally experienced how quickly the definition of “life as normal” can change, as well as seen our world’s failure to raise a just and appropriate response when profit is in the picture. I’ve felt pretty sensitive to how fiction handles these topics, and I have a few broad  categories for pandemic media: pre-COVID and eerily accurate or pre-COVID and absolutely inaccurate; post-COVID and insensitive (it gives the audience a little elbow, like “hey we all remember THAT right, look, it’s been incorporated into this story lol!”) or post-COVID and tastefully incorporates some interesting insight or post-COVID and ignores the whole thing (though it’s a different question whether you can create something fully new without incorporating lived experience even subconsciously) (as another note, I want to add that before 2020, I was really into the science history of pandemics, but haven’t done much reading on that front since) (also, when I say post-COVID, I mean post-outbreak. COVID rates are soaring right now, let’s stop ignoring this. While we’re in a parenthetical, please get the new vaccine if it is accessible to you). 
Both Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel) and Severance (Ling Ma) were indeed published prior to 2019, and so they fit into category #1. Reading them this year actually felt really valuable and almost cathartic, rather than anxiety-inducing. Station Eleven loosely follows several people who are connected by their involvement in a production of King Lear immediately before the outbreak of a deadly flu. The fairly extensive glimpses into their lives prior to and after the outbreak round out really nicely. I like that we see such a range of ages of characters. One of the main characters was a young child when the flu started, and most of her screen time takes place twenty years after; only a small fraction of her life took place in what the older characters view as “normal” times. So what does that mean for people like her (or those born after the outbreak)? Should she be mourning something she experienced for just a few years? Her whole life has taken place during a period of apparent transition, but what is the world transitioning to? When does a transition end? After twenty years, there’s a sense of peace and predictivity to her reality- isn’t that a sort of normalcy? I also really liked the way all the characters were loosely connected to one another; there are lots of books with such setups, but I like that this connection doesn’t entail some great mystery or a climactic meet-up. Connection is just how the world works. 7.5/10; it left me with things to think about, but it was a bit of a slow read for me at some points.
While I read Station Eleven because I saw my lovely mutual posting about it, I read Severance because my coworker posted about it…but what are mutuals if not coworkers. It is similarly made up of pre- and post- outbreak scenes, but it follows only one character, Candace Chen (interesting quote from a New Yorker article about this choice: “...Ma flouts a trope of dystopian fiction, a genre that, with its fixation on the fate of civilization, has a tendency to produce protagonists meant to stand in for society at large. Rather than an Average Joe, Ma gives us a Specific Chen, conjuring an experience of the apocalypse through the lens of someone whose variegated identity is not an exotic distraction but part of the novel’s architecture”). These scenes of the past are less strictly cohesive flashbacks, and more snippets of Candace’s dispassionate existence. When the epidemic breaks out, she keeps working her corporate job in bible manufacturing in New York City, even as her superiors and coworkers leave or fall ill, even as the city’s infrastructure crumbles and she moves into her office, until she eventually is rescued by a band of survivors. Candace is a cog in a machine, otherwise adrift and lonely in late-stage capitalism. The Shen Fever isn’t a disease where the victims fall ill and die, leaving the sight of the narrative; the fevered linger, acting out loops of their daily/familiar routines until they finally wear themselves ragged and die. So, there definitely is more cutting, explicit criticism of consumerism and capitalist society in Severance than Station Eleven. It’s also more psychological (and ambiguous). While Station Eleven gave me a sense of peace and calm occasionally, I never felt that here, where the non-fictional aspects of life under late-stage capitalism is inseparable from the book’s fictional dystopian elements (perhaps the difference in tone between the two books is because Station Eleven is about connection, and Severance’s narrator exemplifies the disconnection wrought by capitalism). There’s not really a sense of urgency or stress, though. In my opinion, that’s because (as many of us have experienced) when crisis is happening all the time, people become exhausted and adjust their idea of normalcy to some level of tragedy. Between the symptoms of the fever and Candace’s commitment to work a pointless job through a pandemic, this book really did eerily reflect the world’s insistence on “life as normal” during the beginning of COVID. There is so much more to talk about with Severance (I was mainly focusing on how it compares in regard to a sense of normalcy in crisis, but there’s SO much interesting stuff in it- I didn’t mention at all, for example, the role of immigration), and I highly recommend checking it out if you don’t mind an uncomfortably realistic sense of impending capitalistic doom! 9/10.
These three apocalypse books all used scenes set before, during, and after the onset of a crisis, so it’s interesting to me that they have such different relationships with normalcy. I’d be super intrigued to hear what y’all think about these books (or other similar ones) and their very different treatment of the same themes.
Sorry for the mini book report there. It’s time for me to talk about one last sci-fi book, which was actually one of my top books of the year- Annihilation (Jeff VanderMeer). I read this after I finished my last finals of my university career, and I finally had some time to myself. It was a strange and liminal sort of period for me, existing in this space for two weeks where I was just anticipating graduation and my move to a new city, a looming end to life as I had known it the last 4 years. I spent several evenings sitting on the quad, enjoying the nice May weather, and barely noticing as the sun set and it grew dark around me. I really expected nothing from Annihilation and couldn’t believe how much I loved it. For one, it gives me hope that scientist characters don’t have to be awful (unlike Project Hail Mary’s protagonist, the narrator here sticks within her field and even explicitly mentions being recently refreshed on the scientific topics relevant to the story). I don’t know what genre you would call this– it’s like 60% horror 40% sci-fi (but I couldn’t bear to add another book in the horror section, that’s why it’s in here, and also I wanted another jab at Project Hail Mary’s protagonist); it’s cosmic horror, where the incomprehensible thing is biology and the strange inhuman beauty of nature. The narrator is simply called The Biologist, a woman who is absolutely fascinated about the natural world; she’d be satisfied staring into a puddle in a parking lot for hours. I love her. She joins a mission, made up of women also referred to simply by their fields, to learn more about the mysterious environmental disaster zone called Area X. The movie’s description calls this a “mysterious zone where the laws of nature don’t apply,” but I think the Biologist would say the exact opposite. The story, told through her field journal, records the team’s investigation into Area X and the terribly strange and beautiful things she encounters there; meanwhile, she reluctantly reveals her not-so-scientifically-objective motives for signing up for this doomed expedition. You’ve probably heard of the movie and/or seen gifs of its beautiful visuals; this is one of the cases where the movie is pretty good (and Oscar Isaac is there), but it’s really a completely different piece of media than the book- I recommend reading the book as a separate entity than the movie. This one is a 9.5/10! Once I reread and better understand the conclusion, I’d probably add that 0.5 points back. Has anyone read anything similar to Annihilation they recommend? I need more of a funky scientist interacting with surreal natural horror. 
Ok, one last book that I would consider miscellaneous to my categories here, but theoretically could be scifi? 
I read The Archive of Alternate Endings (Lindsey Drager) after seeing a quote from it in a tumblr post. In fact, you might’ve seen the post I recently made with a different excerpt from it. I finished it just before the new year so that I could fit it in here and give it the honorary place of the last book :) Archive combines a lot of things I know y’all like: the circularity of time, folktales, web weaving, siblings, tragedy, nautilus shells, etc. Since we’re at the end of this post, I’ll give a better go of describing an experimental book: a natural history of storytelling, as traced through the tale of “Hansel and Gretel” and Halley’s comet. Not sure if that makes sense, but essentially, Archive reveals the human connections at each 74 year interval of the comet’s orbit, from 1378 to 2365, through revisiting the meaning of “Hansel and Gretel” to different pairs of siblings. Compared to other works that attempt to do the grand connections across time and space thing, Archive does this very well, probably because this structure is not an afterthought and it’s not a tool to build anticipation of the characters meeting- it’s the thesis statement. One thing I did have trouble with was the incorporation of real historical figures into this piece, especially considering its structure. I was able to more easily digest some of the historical liberties taken than others; I didn’t mind the historical figures and original nameless characters separately, but it was strange to see Ruth Coker Burks (though she’s not named explicitly) interact with a pair of fictional siblings. 8/10. Other than that issue, I think this book worked well and was a great last read for 2023!
I said that was the last book, right? Sorry.
I realized I’ve never posted here about one of my favorite books, and I want to use this as the chance to talk about it, if anyone’s still reading at this point. 
I read A Tale for the Time Being (Ruth Ozeki) in the spring of 2022. I learned about this book because someone had left it in a classroom I was teaching in, and I thought the title was great, so I took a picture of the cover and eventually searched for it at the library. How’s that for fate? Here’s a brief summary. A novelist with writer’s block finds a journal that has washed ashore. Alongside the novelist’s annotations, we read the words of Nao, a Japanese teenager. Nao has decided to kill herself, but first she wants to do something that’ll matter: write about the incredible life of her great-grandmother, a hundred year old Buddhist nun. Despite her best attempts to focus on her grandmother, Nao ends up using the journal as a diary, documenting the events of her own life that have led her to plan a suicide. While Nao’s life and her intentions are obviously extremely bleak, she writes with a delightfully bright and peppy voice that makes her journal both a pleasure to read and that much more devastating, as we quickly begin to care deeply for Nao. The novelist’s parts of the book are objectively weaker than Nao’s, but her role as helplessly studying the journal years in the future is definitely necessary for the book to work (plus she’s the framing device). I do want to note content warnings for Tale; suicide, of course, but also I was surprised by brutality of Nao’s bullying (I’d loosely define some of it as torture) and the escalation of events toward the end. So adding some less obvious CWs in case people wanna check it out: graphic depictions of bullying; sexual assault; racist fetishization of Japanese women; child neglect; and lots of discussion of suicide. Beyond that, I’d add that this book is just absolutely packed full of everything, which can make it seem occasionally a bit all over the place, but it’s all connected, so it’s worth it to try to follow the various threads. From reviews I see online, some people LOVE this book, others hate it, so it might be an acquired taste…but personally, I recall it as one of the best books I’ve read and am going to take this as motivation to finally reread it. 
Right, now we are done. So what are the takeaways of this ridiculously long post ? Here are few bits of wisdom I learned from my 2023 reading: You have got to read the originals that adaptations are based on because Mike Flanagan and co will fuck around with the source material, but also because knowledge of the source material can add a lot to your understanding of an adaptation you enjoy (and there’s usually a reason someone found them worthwhile of adaptation). Screwing with time can work incredibly well in any genre, but it will come off as cheap if the author doesn’t get the implications of non-linear time and just wants an excuse for excessive flashbacks. There is good pandemic fiction out there, you just have to avoid cringey COVID-derivative material. Stop making your scientist characters be experts in everything, and start making them obsessed weirdos. And take better notes than a string of adjectives if you want to write in-depth book reviews. 
Thanks for bearing with me through this post! Let me know what you think! Did you read these books? Agree with me or disagree with every word? Do you have any recommendations for me? Read something good with a ghost in it? Or do you want to share books from this year you hated? And should I channel my inner booktuber and do more posts like this?
Happy New Year!
Julia
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ghoulishbuck · 6 months
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This post is for those who want to know places to get books or where I personally get mine. If you would like to add places please leave them in the comments.
Ways I acquire books:
•Libby- this is an app that connects with your library card(s). 90% of what I read I loan from my library using this as audiobooks and ebooks at times are easier for me to use.
•Kindle Unlimited- I own an old fire tablet that I just got two months of kindle unlimited for free on but personally I won’t continue it after it ends because I have a hard time with ebooks.
•Amazon- I rarely buy things on here now but they do often have a lot of books on sale. I do also browse for deals on ebooks and have gotten a plethora of ones I’m interested in for free.
•Secondhand stores- most of my collection comes from secondhand/ thrift stores. I very rarely buy a book from chain stores or for full price. This also includes antique stores.
•PangoBooks- 98% of the time if I want to buy a specific book I’ll look for it here before I look elsewhere. They also at times do give out coupons like spend $20 get $5 off.
•NetGalley- every now and then I’ll request digital arcs (ebooks and audiobooks that aren’t released yet). As long as you read the books you request and review them (or state you DNF’ed and why) on the site and keep your ratio at least at 80% of all accepted request reviewed you’re golden. But, having another place where you talk and review books does increase your chances. Personally, I have my Goodreads and Instagram account linked to help even though I haven’t touched my Instagram account in awhile.
•Library- I’ve barely checked out any books in person since I got my library card but that’s purely because I’m really trying to read my physical tbr and stay away from adding more to it.
•Gifts- if people ask me what I want for something for example my 21st birthday which is a few months away I’ll either say a certain book, an author, or a gift card to someplace that sells books. Sometimes I’ll say other things depending on the person. Now that doesn’t mean I’m expecting a bunch of books especially new ones in fact when I gave someone a list of books and author names I only gave them things that I thought they could easily find in a thrift store and always remind them that it’s not a list of things that needs to be completely bought but more of a scavenger hunt that they can end at anytime.
•Audible- for awhile I had a subscription mostly due to multiple free trials and it not cancelling even after I cancelled… Anyways, I prefer using Libby.
•Half Price Books- this is both a secondhand store and not. A good chunk of my books have come from here although these days this is mostly only my go to when I’m near one, when I don’t have time for a thrift store (I will look at nearly the entire place), or when I’m hoping to find certain more popular books.
•Barnes & Nobles- I very rarely went to Barnes even when I lived near one but every now and then I would buy some books from there. I do wish I could be near one when they do their 50% off hardcover sale they usually do on the 26th of December.
•Giveaways- I’ve won quite a few e-book giveaways on Goodreads. Personally, I’ve only won one physical giveaway and never received it. Which is pretty 50/50 when it’s the publisher doing the giveaway from what I understand.
•Dollar Tree- this is pretty hit or miss but whenever I go I make sure to check out their book section because they do sometimes have books I am interested in.
•Target- their price on books especially viz manga always gets me. Along with the deals they do every now and then like buy one get one 50% off or buy two get one free.
•Walmart- they also have about the same pricing for books as Target does but the only extra deal they do is for books they put on clearance which they put in cardboard bins.
•Book Outlet- discounted books that are pretty cheap although condition can vary. Not like extremely bad but like I have gotten a book with a small rip in the cover, the cover smushed on the top and bottom of the spine and a broken spine on a hardcover. I just think it’s better to know what the condition could be be before going into it. As long as your fine with the chance of getting that I highly recommend it. They are currently doing a fiction books sale right now where their only $5.99 and everything else is 20% off. Just dropping my referral link below if you use it you get $5 off of a $25 or higher order.
•Rightstuf (rip now is under Crunchyroll)- they had some great deals on manga, graphic novels, anime figures, and anime. I sadly didn’t take part in the birthday sale even though I really wanted to but I did make one or two purchases from them and had a good experience.
•Book of the Month- I’ve been getting books from them for just about to be a year and one month. I personally have really enjoyed it but I also will read anything that interest me and usually even if I don’t care for the months picks after watching people react to them and talk about them I want to pick up at least one of them. Book of the Month referral below.
•Aardvark- I got this one month with the discount code they always have where you get your first book for $4. There’s been a few books I wanted that they have but it’s been too rare for me.
Other ways that I haven’t yet done:
•Library sales- every now and then libraries will sell the books they no longer plan to keep in circulation and the profits go directly to the library.
•Little Free Libraries- these are strictly take a book leave a book deals. Most of these are run by a book lover who just wants to make books more accessible to people but they have to take the money out of their own pocket to keep it filled.
•Asking Publishers for physical arcs- this is the one I’m most anxious about and know the least about. From what I heard you have better chances of getting accepted for physical arcs if you have a big following. And it’s better to wait until you have had a book blog be somewhat regularly active (every week or two minimum) for six months. After that point you have to send an email to the publisher specifically asking for a certain physical arc(s), link your blog, make it professional sounding and just cross your fingers.
•Independent bookstore- I live in the middle of nowhere so the closest one to me is over two hours away (this is actually the closest bookstore period) and it’s also pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I just have a hard time paying full price so even though I love browsing through a bookstore the drive just for the bookstore that’s full price isn’t worth it.
•ThriftBooks- I like to know the condition I’m buying books in so I’ve never bought something from here as new could actually mean good condition depending on the person.
•SciFier- this is what a lot of people especially in the UK use especially for manga. It’s like a Rightstuff but from what I’ve seen better.
•eBay- I feel more comfortable with Pango’s system of just incase the seller screw’s you over than with eBay’s so I’ve never bought anything from here.
•Facebook Marketplace- I don’t have Facebook so I’ve never used this but I have seen some good deals.
•Garage/Yard/Estate Sales- I haven’t been to any of these in quite some time but when I did go things were quite cheap because they just wanted to get rid of things.
•Illumicrate- special edition book subscription service
•Fairyloot- special edition book subscription service
•Owlcrate- special edition book subscription service
•Broken binding- special edition book subscription service
•Forbidden planet- Manga, books, comics and figures store
•Indigo- Canada’s verison of Barnes & Nobles
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insomniac-dot-ink · 2 years
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Mid-Year Reading Freak-out Tag
I saw some book blogs doing this and thought I’d do my own!
Amount of books you’ve read so far: 18, which I think is better than most of my years so far at the half-way mark 🤗
Best book you’ve read so far in 2022: I’ve read some really great books this year, but I’m obsessed with House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland. It was like eating a good meal, a book written for me specifically, and just really fun to get lost in a story again.
Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2022: hmm, I’ve only read one sequel this year since I’m rarely that big on series in general. I finished Jade Legacy which is the last book in the Green Bones Saga by Fonda Lee. I still adore the series overall, but I was a bit disappointed by the pacing and focus of the last book.
Still excellent though!
New release you haven’t read yet but want to: I just bought Nettle and Bone by T. Kingfisher which released a month or so ago and I’ve heard really great things about. I love a good dark fairy tale, definitely my jam. 
Most anticipated release for the second half of the year: I am vibrating with excitement for the release of Nona the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir later this year *grabby hands*. 
Biggest surprise favourite new author (debut or new to you): I’ve been meaning to read Ashley Herring Blake for forever now since I’ve heard good things and Delilah Green Doesn't Care fully lived up to my expectations. Really emotionally intelligent and fun Sapphic romance!! 
 Also, super hyped for the next one Astrid Parker Doesn’t Fail.
Newest fictional crush: I didn’t enjoy the writing of this book, but I did thoroughly enjoy Talia from Payback’s a Witch by Lana Harper. I love a spooky hot witch lady.
Book that made you cry: I listened to the audiobook of Born a Crime by Trevor Noah and the part where **SPOILERS** his mother got shot by the ex-husband had me crying, Trevor just loves his mom so much and the situation was so frustrating and heartbreaking and he’s a really good story teller.
I cried even more when she was okay, thoroughly moving book overall. I also cried while reading the next book below, Why Fish Don’t Exist. 
Book that made you happy: Not a happy book per say, but I found the book Why Fish Don’t Exist by Lulu Miller to be deeply soothing and philosophically comforting. I’ve always been the type of person filled with doubt and Chaos if you will, and the conclusions of the book gave me a sense that doubt is good. There is a holiness to doubt, fish don’t exist, we make up categories, and the important part is not to divide ourselves, but care for each other.
Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): I’ve got to go back to House of Hollow for this one, absolutely stunning cover. 
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What books do you need to read by the end of the year? I’ve reread the first chapter to Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail by Ashley Herring Blake several times now so I am absolutely hyped to read that later this year along with Nona the Ninth.
I’ve also been meaning to read The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri which looks very cool, though I’ve found myself less drawn to stories with royalty of late. I dunno, I’ve gotten kinda sick of the monarchy in fiction, can’t characters be blacksmiths or merchants at this point? lol
Feel free to friend me on Goodreads too! You can see my book reviews there and I’d love to see what other people are reading as well. What’s been YOUR favorite book so far this year?
I saw someone else doing this, so feel free to take it as an invitation! :)
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laulas · 1 year
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Mixed emotions
Today is prom for hs seniors. My senior will not attend. His H.S experience began in normal ways, then March 13,2020 shut down the world as we knew it. So began virtual school. He was attending a magnet program that year, and switched to our home school virtually the following year.(the hs I graduated from)I moved in December of my junior year and let’s just say, I was lucky to graduate, yet I managed to make a group of friends and a series of questionable decisions. My then boyfriend would need to complete one more year of hs and I ended up going with a friend who happened to get us pot at regular intervals. I barely remember the night. The after party was more fun, albeit also strewn with bad decisions. So, I didn’t have a traditional experience like I’ve seen in rom coms and described in the books I pored through, but I was there. This leads me to my son.. B is someone special(though he won’t like me saying that) partially because of his intellect that has typically surpassed or at least mystified his peers. He was more inclined to befriend the teachers, counselors and coaches. He has had a few close types of friendships through the years, however, I’ve received more calls about his misbehavior, and sadly, came to expect the worst when the school called…often wrought with remorseful apologies later when we talked about it. B is a sweet thoughtful soul, in my opinion but to ask his peers, there would be mixed reviews. At this stage of life, kids haven’t been that accepting. Not to say, he’s a victim, but it’s a known fact that kids can be cruel. His defenses are certainly up for this reason, and this shows up in un fun ways like being verbally offensive ….anyhow I’m not in his head but if I were, I’d give his big brain a hug and bandage All the pain of the past. I’m positive he will find and be happy to his own capacity doing what he loves and surely hope he stays true to himself inspite of outside influence. He has had positive life experiences as well..we visited the elementary school he attended and that was amazing. The warm feeling and yeara of memories melted away any fears that he had not had a solid foundation. Palm lake elementary gave him and me the foundation of a nurturing, supportive environment and I wouldn’t trade that or my son for anything in the world. To be continued
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orangepanic · 1 year
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Thanks for the tag @nyamadermont! A belated sort of year in review whose questions I thought were interesting.
1. Number of stories posted to Ao3: 46 added or updated in 2022
2. Word count in 2022: 508,999
3. Fandoms I wrote for: Avatar: The Legend of Korra and Avatar: The Last Airbender
4. Pairings: Iroh II/Asami Sato (25) and a smattering of other pairings in dribs and drabs like Mako/Korra (3) and Jet/Ty Lee (2)
5. Stories with the most:
Kudos: Severance, the Irosami ghost story
Bookmarks: Smoke, the Equalist Asami Irosami story
Comment threads:  Also Smoke, followed by Severance
Word count: Same as above. So clearly it was a year of two long fics. I’m thrilled people gave them a chance.
6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): I think it might be The Return, a Korra/Asami/Iroh II story. The premise is that Iroh and Asami marry and start a family sometime before book four, but he’s killed when he ignores Raiko’s order to surrender to Kuvira. Asami eventually gets together with Korra to raise the kids, only to have Iroh return from a secret POW camp years later. I’m proud of the story because I hardly ever write poly and had to really think through what that dynamic would be like between the three of them, the kids who didn’t know Iroh, and how they’d all react as the family changed. It wound up being much more about Korra and Iroh’s relationship than I expected. I got some very nice comments from people who don’t typically like Iroh/Asami as a ship, too.
7.   Work I’m least proud of (and why): All the ones I haven’t finished yet!
8.   Share or describe a favorite review you received: I love and treasure every single comment I get, but I’d like to leave a special shout out for @myargalargan and @devildogdemon for leaving long comments on every chapter of some of my multi chapter fics. It’s so amazing that they spend time and effort on that and I’m glowing.
9.   A time when writing was really, really hard: Isn’t it always? But the end of Smoke is killing me. This fic is going on three years and I know what needs to happen and it’s really hard not to mess it up. 
10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Hiroshi and Yasuko Sato in How I Always Loved You are an absolute fucking delight and also such a surprise. Hiroshi Sato in canon is a kind of one-dimensional asshole who serves the purpose of being a villain (heck, I’ve written him like this myself) and Yasuko is just a photograph we see once who is usually assumed to be a carbon copy of her daughter, Asami. Getting such strong personalities for both of them has been so much fun, especially when it turned out both they and their ship dynamic was so different from Irosami. 
11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: I wrote a sequel to an Irosami vampire AU I’d written the year before. There are lots of parts of it that I like, but really liked seeing Iroh balance the human and more animalistic vampire urges. I did a ton of research for this fic because I decided vampires are like leopards with territories and stuff.
“I found it,” Iroh said lamely. He let the ball drop to the ground in quiet submission. He didn’t want Asami to take it away. His scent might be everywhere, but this was technically still her territory. Everything in it belonged to her. That was another thing Iroh had noticed. Concepts that before he’d only attributed to animals, like “prey” and “territory,” now seemed perfectly natural. 
He saw Asami stiffen slightly at the tone of his voice. She looked suddenly wary. 
“You can have it,” she said slowly. “I haven’t seen that ball since I was a kid. It’s probably been out here twenty years.” A slight pause. “Do you play?”
Iroh let his body relax; a signal to her that he wasn’t a threat. “Not since the Academy,” he said. “And that was mostly a bunch of us blowing off steam. Not a lot of kemari on ships. It’s too easy to lose it overboard.”
He saw Asami mimic his posture as she studied him from across the flat grassy area where he’d been playing. A de-escalation of sorts. Good. Not that Iroh had intended to challenge her. In truth, he wasn’t sure what he’d intended. It was only a ball. He was a guest here. Republic City was Asami’s to hunt… wasn’t it? And never mind that he was larger and fit and, an embarrassingly sexist thought, male. None of that mattered. Or it shouldn’t. Spirits, what was wrong with him?
“Do you?” he asked. The words seemed to have more weight than they ought. 
12. How did you grow as a writer this year: This (Avatar) fandom can be really hard on people in a lot of ways, and one of those ways is with a certain ideological purity that seems to pervade a lot of it and which is meant to dictate who can write what, and what can be written. This year I wrote a character with a physical disability (Tis the Sea Sun for Love) and I did a lot of research for what was a rather lighthearted holiday fic. I think a year ago I’d have been too scared someone would come screaming at me that I wasn’t allowed. 
13. How do you hope to grow next year: I find ending multi-chapter fics difficult. I feel like a lot of them go on too long and kind of fizzle out. So I’d like to work on my endings.
14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): my discord server is a pretty awesome group of internet humans, I must say. Love u absolute cracky gorgeous degenerates.
15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: I’m sadly susceptible to dares. The Only Thing I Ever wanted was bet you can’t write a soulmark AU, The Spares was bet you can’t make Korroh work, Big Fish was bet you won’t really write mermaid smut, Do You Have a Better Idea was bet you can’t make Iroh/Asami/Kuvira smut, etc. I’m very much like this in real life, too. 
16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Your characters are people! Do what you can to get to know them as individuals and their unique dynamics in relationships. Think about their quirky likes and dislikes and weave those in. Know what they’re afraid of and what they want more than anything but tell no one. Imagine what they’d pick out at a store, or how they’d behave at a party, or what they’d be like in a group at a board game. You may never use the content, but it will help you find their voice and distinguish them from everyone else. There should (in my opinion) be very few plots that work the same for multiple ships. 
17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I have a couple of big fics that I really want to start, but I have to finish some big fics first. If I can do that, the two I’m most interested in are one about the Equalist trials and another about 20-30 years post canon as the question of whether Raava can still reincarnate comes into question.
18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read:
And anyone else who wants to!
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Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski
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Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader
Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.
Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??
Word count: 8,227
A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!
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All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.
It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.
Why do we have so many animal attacks?
What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?
Why did his eyes glow like that?
That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.
They just feel threatened by us, dear.
They’re in a better place now.
I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.
But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.
Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.
One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.
But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.
I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.
Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.
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“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.
I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”
He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”
I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.
When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.
The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.
The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.
“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.
I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”
I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?
“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.
She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”
“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.
The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.
A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.
But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.
“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.
The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”
I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.
“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.
He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”
“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.
Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.
What are you hiding?
Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.
--
“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”
Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”
I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.
Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”
I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”
“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.
With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.
“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.
Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”
“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”
Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.
I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–
“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”
“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.
I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.
“You say that now, but–”
“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”
--
Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.
I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.
Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.
By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.
“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.
She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”
I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.
“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.
“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.
She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”
The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.
The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.
“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.
“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”
Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?
I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.
I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.
“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.
I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.
“Yeah, sure.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”
He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”
Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.
The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.
He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.
I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.
After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.
“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”
“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”
I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”
“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.
Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”
Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”
--
After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.
Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.
“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.
“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.
She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.
Healing? Is he injured?
“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.
When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.
I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.
“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”
“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”
“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.
I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”
“No!” All three of them yelled at me.
It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.
As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.
“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.
That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.
Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.
“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.
She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”
Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.
“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.
He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.
When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started
She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.
We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.
“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.
“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.
She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.
Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.
The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–
Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.
“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.
Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.
“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.
It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.
Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.
We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.
Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”
With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”
--
When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?
Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.
I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.
As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.
In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.
--
The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.
Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.
Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.
After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”
“Of course! What’s up?”
“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.
Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”
I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”
Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”
A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”
“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.
“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.
To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”
--
Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.
I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.
Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.
Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.
Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”
“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”
“Tomorrow.”
“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”
“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.
I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”
“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”
As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.
I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.
Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…
“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.
When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”
A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.
To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.
“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.
“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”
He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”
“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.
I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.
“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.
“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”
Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”
Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”
He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”
I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”
The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.
The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?
As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?
At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.
“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”
Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.
I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.
As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.
“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.
--
“Stiles, what’s wrong?”
“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.
I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”
“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”
“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”
“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.
Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”
He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.
I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.
“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”
I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.
But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.
--
All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.
But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.
The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.
We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?
We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”
He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.
“I knew you could do it,” he said.
I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”
A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”
“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”
Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.
This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.
--
I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.
“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.
I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”
She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.
Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.
We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.
I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.
“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”
Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.
His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”
“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”
His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”
I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”
I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”
He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”
“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”
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shoichee · 3 years
Note
okok hc or fic: reader was teiko’s “head” manager(?) and her talent was being a medic (if someone gets injured they’re back on the court in under a minute type thing) and training plans. suddenly momoi’s talent blooms, she starts working w/ everyone in the team (+ reader’s crush akashi) and people think she’s a better manager than reader. because of this, she overworks + collapses in front of her best friends kuroko + kise (don’t let akashi know yet i have plans for that 👀)
HELLO? YES OFFICER? I JUST FOUND A BANGER REQUEST RIGHT HERE? YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG AND SEXY IVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS🏃🏻‍♀️💨 part 2 here and part 3 here AND update: part 4 here
Akashi x Reader
[Teiko!manager Headcanons]
you had a knack of being a natural chiropractor in loosening up tense muscles instantly (for more fluid play) or easily putting in back dislocated joints
basically you have crackhands
in your free time as a hobby and a job as the “head manager” (that Akashi announced to the team himself), you’d often bury yourself in anatomy studies and gym plans on the internet and databases to review over Akashi’s team training routines to see if they were effective and safe; oftentimes, you’d return back with improved plans, and as time went on, Akashi entrusted you with creating the plans yourself completely
you took on the job so eagerly to impress the Teiko captain, if you were being honest to yourself
your enthusiasm even inspires Momoi, Teiko’s other manager, to work harder
no one in Teiko knows physiology better than you, and as expected, it was also your best subject along with health
Kise often looks at you in horror and respect at how you don’t cringe/flinch at the loud cracks resonating across the room or court when players come to you for instant relief (the origin story of how he came to call you (y/n)-cchi was the very fact that you manage to put back his dislocated shoulder in 3 seconds flat one game)
when Kuroko first joined the 1st-string, he was a walking magnet for injuries, and you ended up being there for him every single time… nosebleeds? check. sprained ankle? check. nausea from over exhaustion? check.
both you and Kuroko relish in the fact that everyone in the team can never understand how the both of you do some incredible things with your hands
both of you being quite dexterous, you both often teach each other your specialties for fun; it’s almost shocking to see Kuroko effortlessly loosening up a stress knot and you pulling off a well-done palm pass
you admit, you do juggle a lot of responsibilities… from being a makeshift nurse, to a chiropractor, to a budget gym coach, and even to being moral support
Momoi often reminds you to take breaks being the caring person that she is
you often showed her the ropes and tricks of being a manager, on top of your duties, and you find it really endearing that she’s so earnest in learning from you
even if you enjoyed doing what you do, part of the massive workload is to try to get into Akashi’s good graces
talking to him about basketball duties is easier to achieve than talking to him outside of the extracurricular
you might be a tad bit insecure about it; after all, what middle schooler is already so accomplished in academics, sports, and everything you could think of? wasn’t he also studying to take over his father’s company??
to you, who only starred as Teiko’s humble manager, it felt hard trying to establish common ground for conversation outside of basketball
so you stuck to working hard at your position, hoping that your work ethic would get his attention one day; you were a firm believer of actions over words, so you hoped your actions would come off as genuine
picture you and Momoi running across campus with stacks of papers for the team… it makes most of the teammates’ hearts melt at the sight
your work certainly got you praises from other teammates, but out of all players, Kise was the one who figured out your motive
you felt absolutely morbid; to think that Kise, of all people, would figure you out like the back of his hand
Kise being sweet as he is, offers to help you get with the captain but you merely prompted to threaten to break his arm if he spilled your crush to anyone else
“(y/n)-cchi… I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes, Kise?”
“It’s really cool that you’re working so tirelessly for the team, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason why you work so hard.”
“O-Of course I do! I want to see you guys all succeed!”
“Then I’m curious as to why you always look at Akashicchi—o-ow, ow, ow!! (y/n)-cchi, I’m sorry! So can you please let go of my—ow!”
“H-How did you know?!”
“I-It was as obvious as day, (y/n)-cchi! I’m pretty sure even Kurokocchi found out about this before I did!”
“N-No way!!”
“Tell you what, I’m super duper knowledgeable in this stuff! You can count on me for this sort of advice—OW!”
spoiler alert: Kise was right in that Kuroko definitely noticed your attraction to Akashi before anyone else… he just never brought it up to you
one day, Kuroko comes up to you to whisper:
“(y/n)-san, have you realized that Akashi-kun has been observing you recently during practice?”
“W-Wait! Is he looking over here right now?”
“Not that I think. He’s occupied with the coach right now.”
“D-Do you think this is a good sign?”
Kuroko gives you a small smile before he replies, “I would like to think so. Keep working hard, (y/n)-san.”
and you do, you’re constantly on top of your game for the next season until Momoi suddenly gets more recognition for her “precognitive defense” skills
her newfound talent was extraordinary and never-before-seen, and her ability became more critical to Teiko’s victories than your own skills
you were happy and proud for her, because after all, her achievements were extremely deserving to be praised
it’s only when some 1st-string players started making offhand comments about how you weren’t really needed in the 1st-string and was more suited to the lower strings that placed seeds of doubt into you
these people would often compare you to Momoi in how she improved much more despite you being in the team for longer
there’s also talk about how your skills are more useful for 2nd-string and 3rd-string players because Momoi’s ability is already sufficient enough for Teiko’s starters
after all, how would a player even be injured if they can predict their opponents’ moves to avoid such incidents?
there’s also the fact that Akashi has been calling Momoi more frequently to research on upcoming teams for analytical data because her talent has become very useful to ensuring victory
the same peers and adults who gave you praise were the same people who began to ignore you or dismiss you; that being said, the collective change in attitude is definitely subtle enough that it would fly under most people’s radars
Kuroko was the first to notice and defend you against a small group of players who were bold enough to badmouth you in the gym
Kise would find out a little later about the somewhat unpleasant gossip about you and would pull the “no you” reverse card, returning back with MEANER underhanded comments that would send these shit talkers CRYING HOME (manga Kise strikes here unexpectedly eh?)
Murasakibara is someone who would be slightly uncomfortable with the gossip about you, especially since you’ve always been so helpful and kind to the team and himself; he’d either leave the room himself or easily scare them away with his looming height and presence without saying a single word when he enters the room “minding his own business”
Midorima is a bystander judging from how he’s reacted to the Teiko dynamic changes in the actual show // he, of course, wouldn’t like the nasty talk about you but would actually mind his own business, choosing to focus on himself and what he has to do to contribute to his team; he assumes that you would work hard the same way he is and let your contributions do the talking
now Akashi surprisingly wouldn’t hear much of the gossip, since his presence alone SHUTS them up and commit to their practices like normal; after all, it’s very clear that Akashi doesn’t tolerate this type of behavior in the team (example: Haizaki), and it’s more apparent that he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick them out especially since he has a soft spot for you (which Kise never fails to bring this up to you, but you think he’s reaching too much into it) // TLDR; the teammates mostly have the common sense to not utter anything bad about you… maybe one kid would slip out and get punished for “bad sportsmanship,” but Akashi merely assumes that it’s just one bad apple and not necessarily… the many others as well
Aomine???? bro he ain’t even at practice wdym (HELPPP LMAOO) // jokes aside, if he catches wind of players shit-talking outside of the gym… say at the convenience store or when he’s walking home or something, well… they wouldn’t have a good time…
Momoi simply chastises the gossipers when they try to talk shit on you to make Momoi herself look good, and it leaves? such? a? horrible? taste? like, she wants to believe that they’re just really poor jokes and not what they really believe in, and the teammates merely reassure her that they’re just bad jokes and that they “wouldn’t do it again;” poor Momoi wholeheartedly believes them
the weird talks about Momoi being “the better manager” just signalled to you that you haven’t contributed enough to the team yet, and it motivated you to work even harder
oddly, you weren’t jealous of the fact that Momoi was receiving more positive attention than you
you were more afraid of the fact that you were going to get left behind, and this fear only tightened its hold on you when more teammates (who used to talk to you a lot) have changed their tunes when they speak with you now, compared to them talking to Momoi
and you felt that the Generation of Miracles would do the same too… including Akashi
it wasn’t an irrational fear for you because he’s already been calling Momoi a lot more frequently for help than you recently
so you even offered to mop the gym floors after practice, offered to stay later than usual to be the one to lock up the gym for anyone (cough, Kuroko) who wanted to practice whenever they wanted
at one point, you even tried to do what Momoi does: researching on upcoming teams and making your own predictions (that didn’t really work, and that cost you a few nights’ worth of sleep every single time)
not to mention that you still had regular school like any other student? you were the epitome of a mess
Kuroko was with you in the empty gym, you putting away the extra basketballs in the storage closet while he practiced his dribbling, until he heard a crash in there and a few basketballs rolled out the door
you collapsed right when you rolled in the basketball cart
POOR KUROKO HE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO // he just tries to give you a piggyback ride as he abandons his plans of practice and tries to jog to the nearest local clinic
that’s where he bumped into Kise, who was heading home after an evening shoot when he saw the two of you
chaos ensue as Kise freaks out and Kuroko had to calm him down himself after answering the never-ending questions
at least the doctor there gave relieving news that you only collapsed from over-exhaustion and that the bruises from the fall were very faint
Kise makes a joke to Kuroko about, “What’s with you and (y/n)-cchi falling to the floor and fainting? You guys can’t be that alike.”
when you shortly regain consciousness, you were met with a… very stern Kuroko and Kise, who were both ready to hear your explanation and to scold you to oblivion
to your surprise, they were understanding; Kuroko understands the feeling of not being enough and working hard to meet other people’s expectations, and Kise understands the struggle of juggling multiple things in his schedule (come on, student, athlete, and model?)
they still scolded your ears off:
“(y/n)-san, you idiot. Why didn’t you ask anyone to help out?”
“That’s…”
“(y/n)-cchi, do you think we’re undependable?!”
“Er, no, that’s…”
you were still dizzy from the fall and the lack of proper sleep (and maybe nutrition if we’re being honest), and you were just a ball of stress
you kind of begged your best friends not to tell a SOUL to anyone about this incident, especially to Akashi… you didn’t want to look even more incapable in his eyes than you already were
they do agree on one condition: for you to take AT LEAST a day or two off school to completely recover and rest up (you reluctantly agree; besides how were you going to explain the bruises that can’t be covered to your peers?)
HELP WHY ARE KISE AND KUROKO THE BEST LIARS TOGETHER ON CAMPUS LITERALLY NO ONE SUSPECTS A THING… except Akashi, the ever sharp captain, felt something was amiss
especially since some Teiko players emanated a feeling of relief at the news of you not being here that day, or the next
Akashi would play detective sleuth and find out what’s really going on sooner or later
End Note: gonna cut this off here b/c I KNOW this anon got a juicy part two i FEEL IT
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sierraraeck · 3 years
Text
The Jailbird and the Mouse
Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)
Masterlist
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Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!
Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.
Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.
Word Count: 8.5k
A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!
Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.
I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.
I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.
“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.
“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”
He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.
“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.
“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”
“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.
“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”
“We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.
“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”
“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.
“So you do want my help,” I clarified.
“I want your skills.”
I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”
“What was I supposed to do!”
“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”
Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.
“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”
“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.
My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”
She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”
“What about me?” Spencer asked.
“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”
When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”
“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.
“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.
“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.
“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”
“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.
“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”
“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.
“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”
“Criminals or co-workers?”
“Either.”
“None of them are like you,” he bit.
“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”
He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”
That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”
“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.
“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.
“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.
“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”
Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”
“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”
“Why?”
“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”
“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”
I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”
“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.
“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”
“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”
“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.
“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.
“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.
All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.
Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.
Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.
Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”
I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”
He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”
I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.
“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.
I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.
“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.
“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.
“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”
“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”
Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”
I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”
A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.
But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.
My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”
I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”
I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”
I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.
He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”
He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.
“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.
I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.
“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.
“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.
“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.
“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.
He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”
The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”
I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”
“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.
“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”
“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.
“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # #
When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.
The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.
Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.
“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”
He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.
I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”
“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.
I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”
“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”
“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.
“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.
“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.
“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.
“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.
“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”
“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”
“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.
I smiled, “I know things.”
“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.
It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”
“For..?”
“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.
Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”
I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”
That’s what did it.
Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”
“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”
Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”
I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”
Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”
Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.
Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.
Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”
It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”
At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.
I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.
The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”
I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.
It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”
I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”
He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”
I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”
“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.
I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”
I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.
I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”
I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.
Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.
Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”
I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.
I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.
I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.
I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.
“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”
I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.
Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.
“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.
I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”
That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.
His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”
Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.
We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”
Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”
I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.
I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…
I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.
I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.
As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.
I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.
I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”
Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”
My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.
“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”
“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”
I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.
As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.
“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.
His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”
I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.
But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.
I’d been in there for five times as long.
I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.
I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.
My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.
It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.
I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”
I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.
I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”
The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”
He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”
I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.
He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”
I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”
“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.
“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”
I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”
“I’m sorry if I scared you.”
“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.
“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.
“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”
“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.
Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”
I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”
Read the full series
Taging some people:
@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx @andiebeaword @psychicdonuts @aperrywilliams @goldentournesol @homoose
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forthegothicheroine · 3 years
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Stealing this book meme from @wormwoodandhoney, originally from booktubers! Feel free to steal it from me!
1. Best book you’ve read so far in 2021: In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. What can I say about this book? I don’t read a whole lot of dark memoirs, but this true story of the author’s relationship with an abusive girlfriend is formatted by taking it through a million different literary and film genres, examining it through a million different lenses, pulling out the reader’s heart a million different ways.  It’s amazing.
The other favorite book I’ve read so far is A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling.  It’s also dark non-fiction, but this one reads like super-dark comedy, Stephen King by way of the Coen Brothers.  It’s about libertarians attempting to make their ideal community in an economically depressed Vermont town, exactly the same time a bunch of bears who may have had a brain-affecting parasite started invading.  My husband called it Bearoshock.
2. Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2021: Bright We Burn by Kiersten White. This was the final book in The Conqueror’s Saga, an alternate history about a female Vlad the Impaler.  While I (still) found the relationship with Mehmed a bit forced, this continued to present one of my all time favorite antiheroines, unlikeable and terrifying and very compelling.  I know very little about this history, which I imagine would make me like the book either more or less, but White really knows how to capture and keep my interest.
3. New release you haven’t read yet, but want to: Angel of the Overpass by Seanan McGuire, the final book in her Ghost Roads trilogy, my favorite of her many series.  Just ordered it!
4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year: The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix.  I’ve already read multiple books with similar premises (Final Girls, We Are All Completely Fine) but I adore Grady Hendrix and I feel he’s wonderful with female protagonists and premises that are silly on the outside and very deep on the inside.  He’s an automatic buy for me.
5. Biggest disappointment: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead.  This won the Pulitzer Prize, so it’s probably my fault for not getting it.  Still, I was baffled that you’d come up with a steampunk/magic realism concept about a literal railroad to freedom and then not actual do anything with the railroad.
6. Biggest surprise: The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (translation by Wayne A. Rebhorn) is so much fun!  The stories are so bawdy and goofy and the narrator’s voice is really delightful.  Sympathetic to Jews, disdainful of the church and preoccupied with the idea of women being in their rights to seek out good times, it gave me a view of the kind of Renaissance personality I have never seen onscreen. Besides, tailoring stories to tell to friends during a plague is something I’ve been doing a lot in the past year or so, so I strongly identified.
7. Favorite new author. (Debut or new to you): Alyssa Cole.  Her romance novella Let it Shine was amazingly beautiful and painful and sexy and compulsively readable.  I have to check out her Loyal League series now!
8. Newest fictional crush: As above, Ivan Friedman from Let it Shine, a Jewish boxer and activist in 1960s Virginia full of passion and fight, committed to being the one who takes punches for other people.  But I wouldn’t want to take him away from Sofie, respectable black college girl turned Freedom Rider.
9. Newest favorite character: Jordan Baker from The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, a magical realist retelling of The Great Gatsby.  This Jordan is a Vietnamese adoptee, stylish and smart but forever an outsider, possessed of a magical talent exploited by her selfish best friend, in love with two weak-willed people, the only one who can see through to demonic souls even after it’s too late.  I got an ARC from work- look out for my official review!
10. Book that made you cry: Help at Any Cost by Maria Szalavitz.  Oof.  This is a scathing and horrifying and unfortunately page-turning expose of schools designed to break “troublesome” children into submission.  It’s a few decades old, but I can’t imagine this line of thinking and abuse has gone away.  (Side note: it inspire me to try and write a ghost story, which I can’t decide whether it might be in bad taste, but it’s the way I have to work out my feelings.)
11. Book that made you happy: Paperback Crush by Gabrielle Moss, an examination of the pre-Harry Potter ya books sold at scholastic fairs, meant for only a few uses.  I haven’t read most of them, but this made me feel like I was on a giddy sugar rush at a sleepover party, recommending and making fun of books with my friends.
12. Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): Through the Woods by Emily Carroll.  An eerie graphic novel collection of Carroll’s horror stories. illustrated in a deceptively simplistic but bone-chilling style.
13. What books do you need to read by the end of the year? The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, partly because it looks amazing but also to justify impulse buying it when I already had too many unread books at home.
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fic writer review
thanks to @delphiniumblooms for tagging me!!! :D
1. How many works do you have on Ao3?
66 posted and one lonely little draft that's probably never gonna get finished
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?
102,532
3. How many fandoms have you written for?
including things i've multiple-tagged for related fandoms, 24. but like i said, a lot of that is because of interconnected/related fandoms
4. Top 5 fics by kudos?
tell me more than just the scars i've known - my first Sylki fic that i wrote while extremely frustrated by lack of cell service, it's not my favorite thing i've written but listen: sometimes a girl's just gotta write some whump, ok?
Dream Again (When One's Left Behind) - the one and only Tangled: The Series fic i've ever written. Varian angst and platonic h/c with one of the only alternating POVs i've ever successfully written.
for the bad decisions that we made - the Sylki fic i posted less than two days ago (writing for big fandoms is wild, guys); yet another take on an s2 reunion but this time featuring heart-to-hearts, hugs, and one of my favorite lines of prose i've ever written
Learn Me Right - Newsies sickfic that i'm not incredibly proud of, but it's where i started writing my favorite minor character, so it's cool.
We Are Broken - one of my other Newsies fics, bc yeah i had a phase back in January, and i saw some Wormsies post that gave me an idea.
5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?
YES. i always reply to comments just bc i love talking to people, and i also love talking about my fics at any opportunity. also bc i know how nice it is to leave an author a comment and get a reply later on, it's just such a great feeling so i like to be that person :)
6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
eurrgghh probably either Dust & Ashes or we're gonna sing it again and again, bc they ended with MCD, but i really kind of hate both of them in retrospect because i was trying to write them to be canon compliant, but i wasn't familiar enough with canon and they're just... very very off
7. Do you write crossovers?
nope, not unless you count different eras and contexts of Doctor Who stuff as crossover
8. Ever received hate on a fic?
nope again, AO3 culture is very nice and i really love it
9, Do you write smut?
biggest NOPE yet, i don't write it or read it. just.... n o p e.
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
no
11. Ever had a fic translated?
again, no. but that would be really heckin cool if one of my fics ever did get translated!!
12. Have you ever co-written a fic?
i'm saying "no" a whole lot, wow... but yeah, no i haven't. i've considered co-writing something with my best friend, but we've never gotten around to it
13. All time fav ship?
i... cannot pick one tbh. it changes with my hyperfixation. right now i have Sylki brainrot lol
14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
probably my Gallifrey/DWEU buddy cop au?? i love it, it's my brainchild, but yeah :/
15. Writing strengths?
i've been told that i'm really good at packing a lot of emotion and meta into very short fics, and i'm pretty proud of that tbh
16. Writing weaknesses?
i suck at plot and dialogue can sometimes drive me nuts. i think my biggest weakness as i perceive it is that i find it hard to *not* make things in fics go very fast? like i write everything out that i want in a fic but it's still incredibly short and i worry that it feels rushed, even though other people don't usually think that.
17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
uh... the only language other than English that i know is Koine Greek (as in, the specific Greek that the Bible's New Testament was oroginally written in) and it's a dead language, sooooo.......
18. First fandom you wrote for?
Big Finish Doctor Who! (tho tbh i think back when i was 11/12 i wrote some random self-insert stuff for whatever little fandoms i was in back then 😅)
19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?
ohhh i can't choose? usually i'm just most partial to whatever i've most recently written, which right now is for the bad decisions that we made. i think one of my Gallifrey fics, In The Drift, is definitely high on my list of favorites though.
here's my AO3 for anyone who might like to take a look!
tagging @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum and @picnokinesis if either of you want to do this, and anyone else who sees it if you want. :D
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A Good Deal
lets not talk about what day it was bogizens... 👀 this is part of the hallmark june weddings event we did in the bog!  
it’s also on ao3 here!
Warnings: insecure eskel, stressed triss, honestly its pretty fluffy., could be classified as mild emotional whump.
_____________
Triss was frantic when Eskel trudged up the stairs to the back door in the kitchen. He paused for a moment, leaning against the railing where he could just see her through the window in the door, box braids falling out of her loose bun, some sort of sauce smudged on her forehead, her arm muscles standing out and furiously beating the ever-loving shit out of whatever was in her bowl. Fuck, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. A little scary too, but that was his type.
“Afternoon, Gorgeous,” he called through the screen door, waiting for her to unlock it.
Instead of her normal ‘Afternoon, Handsome,’ he got a snappy, “If any bit of your clothing has been at the fire station, take it off out there. I just got the floors clean, and I don’t have time to do them again before the wedding.”
“If you wanted a striptease you could have just asked,” he chuckled, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his boots off. All of him had just come from the station.
“Eskel, please,” her voice was about an octave higher than when he liked to hear those words normally, and the tightness at the end of her words made him worried.
“I’m clean, ish, can I come in?”
When she let him in she only gave him a quick peck before it was back to what Eskel could now see were egg whites.
“What’s wrong?”
That was apparently the wrong question. Triss dropped the bowl back onto the counter and braced herself against it, hanging her head. Her shoulders looked so tense Eskel thought the muscles might snap, “Fucking everything. Yen’s parents are getting in tomorrow and I only have the middle floor flipped because Annalee called in sick and Taylor is nowhere to be found, and I have to get this breakfast prepped because I have to make sure there’s food for the girls to eat while they get ready. Then I still have to call Jaskier and see when he’s bringing the cake and décor over and I have to run into the store to get the food for the next three days while they’re here and one of Yen’s aunt’s is allergic to everything under the fucking sun! Oh! And I also need to tell Jask to do everything last minute as far as the cake goes because I don’t have the fridge space and-and there’s still a goddamned molehill in the backyard where they’re having the ceremony and-“
Eskel wrapped his arms around her from behind, placing one hand over her sternum and one over her stomach, and held her tight while he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll figure it out. Just take a minute to breathe for me?”
She took a shuddering deep breath and let it out as she rested her head back against his chest, brushing a stray braid out of her eyes, “…and I have a headache…”
“That,” Eskel mumbled, pausing to press a kiss to her forehead, “we can fix quickly.” He pulled them over to her medicine cabinet and handed her some ibuprofen and a large glass of water, also insisting she sit and eat something.
After a minute or two of Triss picking at some leftover pasta salad she groaned and shoved it away, “ and my mother called.”
“How’re Sheila and the dogs?”
“Fucking unbearable,” she grumbled, pitching her voice up and scrunching her nose to imitate her mother’s nasally voice, “ When are you settling down? I was so excited when you said wedding! Haven’t you hired an inn manager yet? Why do you still clean rooms? Did you read that diet book I sent you?”
Pushing her pasta back towards her after the last question, Eskel did his best to remain casual and calm, “I thought she hated me?”
“She hates all of my partners on principle, but you’ve made the top spot for ‘least hated’,” Triss shot him a little smirk as she aggressively stabbed some more pasta, “I told her I’m quite settled and we’re happy for now and to get her nose out of other people’s business- yes I see the irony .”
Eskel forced a bit of a laugh and tried not to bite his lip. He’d been thinking about this since Yen and Renfri’s engagement party. The way Triss looked at him while the couple gushed about how they were so excited to spend the rest of their lives together (and torment some relatives with making it official) had settled in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Every day, he flip-flopped on whether there was a little hope there or if she just thought it was sweet. And every day he berated himself for not bringing it up, but he had never even entertained the idea of marriage. Hell, his main relationship had been a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Geralt, and the few before that had been rocky at best. He wasn’t cut out to be a husband. Certainly not to someone so kind and gentle and fiercely loyal and sharp as Triss. What did he have to offer? A dangerous job and nasty burn scars for their wedding photos?
She must have sensed his hesitation and pushed her pasta over to him, “Eat. I need to keep cooking… and clean the top floor.”
He hooked an arm around her waist as she walked around the little kitchen island they sat at, pulling her close and stealing the keys out of her pocket, “I’ll go get groceries after I clean the top floor. Is the laundry started?”
“You’re too good to me, Teddy Bear,” she sighed, placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Not good enough.”
She frowned, resting her palm over his jaw and searching his eyes, “We’ll come back to that when the inn is ready.”
As he stood, he stole a quick kiss and darted up the stairs, “You’re taking a nap when the inn is ready!”
-
It had all come together in the end. Triss even got some impressed looks and glowing reviews from Yennefer’s family when they arrived. The periwinkle went beautifully with the gardenia Triss had woven through the lattice around the backyard and Eskel had managed to make the moles disappear and patch the grass so even she couldn’t tell where they’d been.
Eskel watched Triss dart around the property, even after her job was done, making sure everyone was comfortable and everything ran smoothly for the girls and as much as he tried to push it down, he was just reminded of how she deserved so much more. More than a scarred, overweight firefighter with a killer therapy bill and a studio apartment that looked more like a hotel room than a home.
As he was watching the different couples swooping around the tiny courtyard dance floor, hands materialized on his shoulders, immediately digging in right where he held tension.
“Now it’s really over,” Triss whispered in his ear.
“Oh? Will you take that nap now?” Eskel shot her a grin over his shoulder as he covered one of her hands with his.
She smiled at him as if he’d said something adorably cute and inaccurate, “I’ll take a dance ?”
Standing up and spinning Triss once before pulling her close to his side, Eskel sighed, “I guess I’ll have to settle for that then.”
Giggling a tad bit deliriously, they made their way onto the dance floor and snuck into a space between the other couples. Eskel did his best to relax and stay in the moment. He took deep breaths and mentally listed little observations about his surroundings, most of which revolved around Triss, and he even tried to distract himself by making some rather suggestive advances, but no matter what he tried, he was still thinking about what she deserved and how it was everything he wasn’t.
Triss rested her hand on his cheek and gave him her trademarked wide-eyed worried look, “Are you alright? Is your knee acting up?”
“M’fine,” he lied, “Just the champagne.”
“Bullshit.”
He should have known she’d call him on it, even in the middle of a wedding she wouldn’t let him get away with anything. Just another reason he wasn’t good enough for her.
Glancing around nervously, Eskel whispered in her ear, “Can we do this later?”
“Absolutely not. You’ve been acting strange for weeks now and it’s making me crazy,” Triss tapped on the point of his chin firmly, calling his attention back to her as they swayed and stepped in a small circle like everyone else.
“Been making me crazy too…” he mumbled, only receiving a furious glare that urged him to continue, “You’re… Triss you’re perfect. I love you more than anything and anyone I’ve ever loved before…”
Tears welled in her eyes as Triss brought them to a standstill, gripping his arms for dear life, “But?”
Eskel couldn’t help tucking her long thin braids behind her ear and caressing her cheek, “But I don’t know why you’re with me. Every time this wedding gets brought up I think about how you deserve someone so much more… whole than I am. Someone who can give you what you want and who doesn’t have a horribly dangerous job and doesn’t look like the Pillsbury doughboy…”
“First off,” Triss started, almost growling as she dragged him off the dance floor and in through the back door to the kitchen, “I thought you were breaking up with me so please lead with what you’re nervous about next time,” Eskel followed, absolutely dumbfounded as he was sat down on a stool like he was in trouble with the principal, “Second, I find your extra weight sexy as hell- no arguments! That is my opinion and it is final . Third- and this one is important- you are the most thoughtful, caring, kind, and gentle person I have ever had the absolute pleasure to share a room with, let alone sleep with. I decided you’re what I wanted a long time ago. No one else has ever told me to take a nap before” she giggled, pausing to hold his face between her hands, “You don’t need to be anything other than you for me to be happy.”
She wiped a tear from his cheek with her knuckles, a fond smile playing on her lips as she drew him in, hugging him tightly so his head rested on her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist and squeezed like he was scared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.
“Thank you,” He whispered.
“You’re welcome,” Triss whispered back, trailing her nails over his scalp and through his soft hair, “Anytime you need a reminder you tell me. Deal?”
Eskel sniffed and pulled himself back together, leaning back to give Triss a quick kiss, “Deal.”
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jokertrap-ran · 3 years
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(最后的厂牌  LAST CREW) His Story: [MAN ONWIRE] 冷任非 Leng Renfei Translation Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  
*Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Welcome to another round of Ran’s sinning whims. *Lawyer man’s future tag will be #LAW ONWIRE *THEY RAP WELL!!!
"Before meeting you, he was one who traversed the deep, eternal, and dark night; the Abyss.”
He, who terrorizes sinners with the holiest stance . Deep within the abyss, with feathers as sharp as blades, re-establishing Justice amongst the morass of Sin.
"So what if he's the most reputable Lawyer?" 
A MPV was parked at the entrance of Mingfei Law Firm. A man dressed in an impressively pricy-looking suit spoke to his assistant, who stood outside, through the rolled down windows of the car. "Same old, just give him the money. Double, if he scoffs."
"President He, this is just how Lawyer Leng works. He confirms each case he takes face-to-face with the client."
"What else is there to confirm…?"
Despite having said that, Mr. He still lowered his voice as he spoke. "Has that evidence already been dealt cleanly away with? No one else got their hands on it, right?
"Well… There are currently no other Lawyers in 000 City who can provide you with what you require, even without that evidence.” His assistant reminded him again, somewhat helplessly, of the same answer that the previous few Lawyers had all given him. They'd all said without a doubt that his sentence could only be reduced by a mere 3 to 5 years, and that any more would be impossible.
A few minutes later saw them both sitting inside Leng Renfei's Office.
The assistant was almost purring as he handed all the evidence over to Leng Renfei. "Have a look at these, Lawyer Leng…"
Leng Renfei didn't make a move to stand up and accept the proffered documents. Instead, all he did was to signal the assistant to place them down onto the table.
"We’ll give you anything you wish, so long as you're willing to do us this one favour."
Only then, does he speak. "This isn't a favour. It is my job, that's all."
His gaze fell upon Mr. He, who had been sitting to the side. He contemplated the man for a while before speaking.
"Is this all?"
It was obviously merely just a simple enquiry. Yet, being stared down by those eyes brought about an enormous sense of pressure. Mr. He, who had been so ostentatiously manspreading, couldn't refrain from rightening himself up a little, avoiding his piercing gaze.
"That's all."
Leng Renfei loosened his tie as he looked through the papers.
"Judging from these documents here, I'll say that 15 years for you, is but a normal sentence."
He flipped through it, chuckling as he reached the end. He then raised his head and fixated his eyes onto Mr. He.
"You wish to reduce your sentence to nothing more than 3 years? ...Very well, I shall accept your case. However, you must be absolutely truthful with me about everything pertaining to this Court Hearing. And you will also have to provide me with your full cooperation during the period in which I am taking charge of your case. Otherwise, I can't guarantee that you'll get the result you seek.”
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━���━━━ ⊹
9:50 AM, 10 minutes before the hearing begins.
However, at this moment in time, the defendant, Mr. He and Leng Renfei were both stuck at the junction a street away from where the court was located. The luxurious MPV vehicle they were riding in had been blockaded by a group of people; the plaintiff's angry family.
"Professionally speaking, I humbly suggest that you get off the car now and start making your way towards the court." Leng Renfei suggested, pushing up his glasses.
The plaintiff's family members continued pounding on the bulletproof windows with no signs of ceasing anytime soon. They didn't make any move to back down despite the countless times their chauffeur honked the car's horn.
Mr. He looked repulsively at the dirtied windows of the car, seemingly disregarding Leng Renfei's "professional advice".
"Haven't we already contacted court security? I do not wish to affiliate myself with the masses by trying to fight my way through the crowd.
"You will no doubt be late if this continues on." Leng Renfei's hand landed on the handle of the door. "Besides…"
The last of his words had yet to leave his mouth when he vehemently pulled the door open, pushing Mr. He out of the vehicle with a forceful shove—
"...Only the obedient will be granted victory over the lawsuit."
The crowd outside swarmed Mr. He immediately, cornering him off to the curb.
At the same time, the MPV finally regained its movement capabilities. Leng Renfei, who was still currently seated inside, paid no mind to the on-going chaos outside, only lowering his head to review the documents for the hearing once more. He gave a slight frown, clicking his tongue before speaking once more.
"Please wait for him at the carpark's entrance."
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹
9:59, the defendant and his defence attorney arrive at court.
10:00,Court proceeds as scheduled.
Now, the suit adorning the defendant's frame was all crumpled and wrinkly. His hair, mussed up with dirt, and there were even visible red marks on his face. His heaving chest betrayed his obvious fury. Yet, the Lawyer beside him was the same as always. All the way from his neatly ironed outfit to the calm and composed expression he wore, with not a single flaw to be seen.
The duo had presented themselves as such an oddity that it even caught the attention of the judge. After going through the normal proceedings of the court's opening, the judge turned back again to question Leng Renfei.
"Defence Attorney, the court notices that the defendant is dressed in a rather dishevelled manner. Does he require some time to sort himself out before the hearing officially begins?"
Leng Renfei held the defendant back as he shot up from his seat in anger. He stood back up, cleaning his throat before answering the judge.
"Thank you, your honour. My client was actually assaulted on the way here and chose to undertake a huge risk by traversing here whilst under attack by an angry mob; all because he didn't wish to delay the hearing. Although the mob in question has already been detained by the court's security team, I personally think that this attack is intricately, but undoubtedly linked to the plaintiff."
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹
Everything was proceeding as planned. This case was a win. Now all the defendant needed to do was to pay the plaintiff a certain amount of money as monetary compensation.
But of course, the endless stream of questioning and inquiries had to come first before any celebrations could be held.
"The plaintiff accuses you of using underhanded means of winning the judge's sympathy. What do you make of it?"
"Did you and the defendant plan for him to make an appearance to court, as dishevelled as he was?"
"Many people claim that your defence is flimsy and holds no weight. They say that your winning streak in court will soon be broken due to this. How are you prepared to answer these queries?"
Leng Renfei halted in his footsteps upon hearing the last question. He turned around to face the cameras and the millions of faceless civilians who were watching behind the screen.
"All I have to say is that I’m sorry to disappoint you."
"Unfortunately, I've yet to taste defeat even today."
"And as a matter of fact, I have no plans to do so in the foreseeable future either.” 
"Lawyer Leng, rumour has it that you'd stop at no end in order to win. May I ask about your opinion on this?"
He smiled. "Doing anything and everything in order to uphold the law? That sounds like a compliment to me." 
"But have you ever placed yourself into the shoes of the victim's family? Can that bit of monetary compensation make up for a life? You are deliberately twisting the truth! It’s despicable!"
Those 8 words were spoken with much emphasis, causing Leng Renfei to look towards the reporter who’d directed the question at him with much interest. It was a youngster, teeth bared and eyes glaring daggers at him. The rims of his eyes were even a little red to further add to the effect. 
The entire media lapsed into silence. All the mics and cameras turned their focus to the lawyer. Looks like this biting question has aroused the interest of everyone present.
His moved his gaze from the young reporter, whose face was radiating sheer justice from it. He removed his glasses, the side of his mouth curling upwards as he replied to the reporter’s accusation with his usual smile and finesse.
“It’s a given that I have to defend my client’s interests seeing as how I’m a Lawyer. I’ve most certainly received the compliments from the plaintiff’s family.”
“Congratulations on another victory, Lawyer Leng.”
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹
―—Back in his grand residence, Mr. He happily helped himself to another glass of red wine despite already being quite drunk.
Leng Renfei’s lips curled into a smile. “I should really congratulate you for having obtained a fair hearing from the court.”
“But of course.” Mr. He all but patted himself on his back. “How would those cretins ever affect me? The real evidence has already been destroyed and dealt away with, right from the very beginning of everything after all...”
Before he could finish his sentence however, he suddenly remembered the “rules” that the Lawyer beside him had set down at the beginning of it all. He sobered up a little, swallowing before looking towards Leng Renfei.
However, Feng Renfei’s expression didn’t change at all, only raising his glass lightly in question. “Not caring for another glass? Victory brewed by one’s hand will only taste all the sweeter when enjoyed in person.” 
“Haha… You’re right, Lawyer Leng. I’m going to sober up.“ Noticing how nothing seemed to be amiss with Leng Renfei, Mr. He breathed a sigh of relief as he quickly removed the cork from the bottle.
Judgement has already been passed, and the results have already been secured. Moreover, all the condemning evidence was already long gone, and even the most powerful Lawyer cannot ask for the case to be opened again. He couldn’t help the smug expression that appeared on his face.
Watching the fresh red wine trickling into the glass as it was poured, the smile on Leng Renfei’s face morphed into one that was a little more sincere.
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹
Stemming from the heart of 000 City, the river expands outwards in an X formation.
Located upstream were those who slumbered self-deceivingly within a beautifully fabricated dream. And located downstream, was where the entire City's waste was endlessly swept under the carpet. There, at the very edge of the City, was a particularly convenient place to carry out certain "things".
During night, at an abandoned warehouse located near the edge of the City— Mr He, who had been celebrating his victory so triumphantly earlier was now pathetically tied up on a chair against the wall.
His face was bruised, and one of the lenses of his glasses had been pierced by something thin and small. It was levelled just a few millimetres away from his eyeball. He sat there, tied and ramrod straight. He didn't even dare breathe, for he was afraid that doing so would cause that sliver to pierce through his eye.
A guy's voice reverberated through the darkness. "Do you still remember what I said?"
Mr. He frantically nodded, his cries coming out as mere whimpers as fearful tears fell from his eyes in an endless stream. 
"I hope to hear news of your confession tomorrow at noon."
——The dim lights, along with all the piled up junk and debris, formed a blind spot. White feathers darted out from one of the dark corners, flashing past.
It was as if something pure had just quietly fluttered it's wings amidst the sins that surrounded it. Out of place; yet shining ever so bright.
"Perhaps I shall let you enjoy what remaining freedom you have left. All these incriminating evidences are sufficient to land you in prison for the rest of your life after all."
A small blade flew out from the darkness as the voice faded away, cutting him free of his restrains.
Mr. He tore off the tape that gagged his mouth, breathing a sigh of relief as the spiking anxiety in his heart significantly calmed.
The next second saw a sharper, deadlier, blade brushing past the side of his eye, slicing a thin line across his temple before embedding itself into the wall just a mere hairsbreadth away.
The cold silver of the blade gleamed, reflecting his eyes as he widened them in a moment of panic. His breath came in short intermittent stutters, choking, as if he had his air flow concurrently cut off.
It was then, that Mr. He truly saw what was hiding in the shadows—
Leng Renfei, the Lawyer that had still been under his hire mere hours ago, was now here, skilfully manoeuvring his blade as he played with it.
A pair of pure white wings unfolded, stretching out from behind his back, each feather, as sharp as a blade.
With him, there was no hint of any of the kindness associated with angels. The edges of his feathers were razor sharp, akin to claws straight out of hell.
Stained with blood, they had a metallic tang to them. 
"Surprised?" Leng Renfei approached him slowly, one step at a time.
"Funny. I thought I'd already made it clear to you? That you must be absolutely truthful to me about everything that pertains to this Court Hearing. Otherwise, I won't be able to guarantee that you'll get the results you seek. No?"
The horrible pressure Mr. He felt forbade him from making even the slightest movement. His feet, clad in pristine leather shoes, tensed up as he slowly shifted his weight, inching backwards.
"If I fail to see the news tomorrow at noon, then…" A voice, low, yet hard to perceive, sounded beside his ear. Leng Renfei’s angelic wings fluttered a few times, and Mr. He felt the very real threat that they posed inching in closer every time they moved.
Next, a foot slammed itself hard onto his knee, forcing him to revert his focus back in front, to the owner of those deadly wings. From whom, he heard words that angels would never speak of.
"...You shall fall into the depths of hell with me."
He retracted his pure white wings, concealing the holiness once more.
Mr. He’s vision plummeted into darkness once more as Leng Renfei turned his back on him, walking towards the faint light that shone behind the door.
Halfway out the door, Leng Renfei paused. The few rays of light permeating the inky darkness illuminating his features, vaguely showing the way his lips curled into a smile. He placed his hands into his pockets, his words tinged with a bit of child-like “sincerity”.
“Right, I seem to recall that you got a B for your rational adaptation rating. There’s still a way if you wish to live out the rest of your life a little more comfortably.”
Despite how he’d already been driven to the corner, he couldn’t help but to see a new glimmer of hope upon hearing Leng Renfei’s words.
“S-ranked prisoners will receive special preferential treatment. How about you try your hand at it since you’re going to be spending the rest of your life in prison anyway?”
“I’ll always welcome you with open arms as the Adjudicator of 000 City’s Erasure Tests.”
"I promise you that you'll be able to get the fairest trials for your crimes there."
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ  ◦∘ ━━━━━ ⊹
The next day, noon. Mingfei Law Firm was swamped with the endless ringing of phone calls. 
The defendant who had won the case yesterday had suddenly confessed and turned himself in to the police. He’d even confessed in front of the media, apologizing to the family of the victim who had died from being unable to shoulder the burden of being cheated out of a large amount of property.
Half-slumped on his chair, Leng Renfei crossed his legs atop the table, off-handedly picking up and answering one of the many media calls.
“Oh? You’re asking me for my thoughts about it?”
“As a Lawyer, I feel sorry for my client; but personally, I’m very happy to see that justice has been served.”
⊹ ━━━━━ ∘◦  Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ LAW ONWIRE Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ◦∘ ━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹
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Clone Wars: Stories of Light and Dark- Book Review
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“Clone Wars: Stories of Light and Dark” Is an anthology of stories narrating some of the arcs of the clone wars from the perspective of the characters. It gives more details and depth to some episodes, as well as giving us information that makes us have a different view of the events.
This is not exactly a review, but mostly my reactions to reading the book. I do recommend it, if you loved the clone wars and want another perspective on some of the arcs this will be a good read. That said, this does contain spoilers for the clone wars.
#1 “Sharing the same Face” -Jason Fry (from the episode “Ambush”)
Okay this was once one of the most light-hearted episodes of the series and now I ended up crying. I did not expect an order 66 reference here. Every time Yoda addresses Dooku is painful. Seeing how Yoda perceives the clones is really heart-warming, but knowing how it all turns out in the end is really sad and during the whole text you are really aware of that. In the show you kind of forget about what’s going to happen for a while, but this text just keeps you thinking about it constantly. It was a good read, I loved it. I found it really interesting knowing Yoda approaches the clones the same way he approached his students at the temple, and knowing what his opinions on the clone army it was a good detail. Loved this one.
Did I care that much about this episode before? No. But watching it right after reading this made me cry for half an hour. (I am a really emotional person, so take this with a grain of salt.)
#2 “Dooku Captured”- Lou Anders (From the episodes “Dooku Captured” and “Gungan General”.
This was a funny read, and the fact that the events are narrated by Dooku Himself made it even more hilarious. It’s supposedly a holorecording Dooku was doing for Sidious, and you can tell by his words that he was so done. Poor Dooku deserves a meditation day after it. You can tell how annoyed he was by the whole situation and his perception of Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. They really are bothering for the count. I’m surprised he didn’t retire after this event, man’s gotta be really tired. Also, when they were tied together, they just shared a braincell and most of the time, Dooku was the one carrying it. The love he had for Qui-Gon does not extend to rest of the lineage, clearly.
At first it was really slow, but after they get captured by the pirates it just gets funnier. Good story to read after the sadness the previous text gave me.
Also, the fact that Dooku canonically records himself venting to Sidious is hilarious to me. Like, can you imagine being Palpatine and receiving daily vlogs from your apprentice ranting and complaining about Anakin and Obi-Wan? Dude was tired, of course he would let Anakin decapitate him in the end.
#3 “Hostage Crisis”- Preeti Chhibber (from the episode “Hostage Crisis”)
For an Anidala shipper this is a must read, because you will know exactly what Anakin thinks of his wife and how he views Padmé. This text was more Anakin centric (I believe the next one is Padmé centric) and it was a delight. I haven’t read much in canon about stuff that involves Anakin’s feelings so this was really good.
The scene from the beginning of the episode? Is hotter when you read it, trust me. For a clearly SFW text, this was intense. I’m pretty sure I can guess all of Anakin’s kink only by what was implied in his thoughts. Is also really sweet to see how much she cares, but also know why everything went downhill at the end. Good retelling.
#4 “Pursuit of Peace”- Anne Ursu (from the episodes “Heroes on both sides” and “Pursuit of Peace”)
I really love Padmé Amidala. My favorite senator. If you have seen my review of Queen’s Peril you KNOW How much I love her, and even when this text was written by another author, I still got the same feeling about her. Padmé is amazing. This arc is one of my favorite of the Clone wars because it’s the arc that let you see that it wasn’t a black and white kind of situation, both sides were being played. An none of them were really worrying about their people, they were in it for the money. I love reading Padmé’s thoughts on the whole situation. Also, the way this story is written makes what went down with Padmé and Anakin in the third episode make more sense and more in character. She is a strong, good, and smart politician. But she is also motivated to see the light in the dark and preserve the light, it gave me major Qui-Gon from “Master and Apprentice” vibes. It did make me tear up a little, because when I finished it, I realized everything she did was for nothing. She was too kind in a galaxy already so corrupted.
Also, Palpatine stop calling her “my child” you disgusting sith lord, I know you are responsible for her death and so do you, so shut the f up. Padmé was doing everything right and she hasn’t done anything wrong in her life whatsoever.
“Just because there’s darkness in something does not mean you do not love it. You show it love, you show it light, and you hope it chooses the light”.
She was talking about the senate but you just KNOW she isn’t really talking about the senate.
This story re-telling broke me, just as the first one. I am not ready for the next one. Do I have to? Man, I really don’t want to go through Umbara again.
#5 “The Shadow of Umbara” -Yoon Ha Lee (from the episodes "Darkness on Umbara," "The General," "Plan of Dissent," and "Carnage of Krell”)
I was, indeed, not ready for it. It doesn’t really add much to the story… except pain. Rex’s pain, to be precise. Let my man mourn Hardcase :C I just wanted to give him a hug, him and all of the clones to be honest. Fives was as good as always, but re-reading his lines knowing what happens to him made me sad. I hate Pong Krell, get you dirty hands off my babies. I don’t think this re- telling made me sadder, but that’s only because it was just as painful as the episodes.
Dogma my beloved, you deserve everything.
I love how this arc develops Rex character and his attitude towards the war in general.
#6 “Bane’s Story”- Tom Angleberger (from the episodes “Deception”, “Friends and Enemies”, “The Box” and “Crisis on Naboo”.)
Is Cad Bane the Regina George of the Bounty Hunters?
The answer is yes. Yes, he is.
I wasn’t really excited to read about Cad Bane at first, I felt that everything that had to be said about the guy had already been stated in the show. He was just a mean bounty hunter in space. But this was actually pretty funny to read, specially because it’s narrated in first person from Bane’s perspective on what happened with Kenobi. And it’s hilarious.
He is basically re telling the events to Boba and Bossk while he is in jail again. During his story you can learn a few things about him as well, specially what his thoughts are in relation to some important topics. You would think he is only concerned about the money and blasting people, and you would be right. But he also does have an opinion on what’s happening on the galaxy at large, on the jedi, on Palpatine and Dooku. But those opinions don’t affect how he gets the job done. It was really interesting seeing him internally judging Kenobi for being a liar, and knowing something is wrong with the jedi order if they pulled that off. He knows everyone is being deceived, but doesn’t know how. That’s why he doesn’t care, and doesn’t get involved on anything unless you offer to pay him. Money moves him, but not the people who has it.
It was a good story, and I also liked to see how Bane respects Boba and sees him as the one that’s going to take his place eventually.
We know from the deleted episodes that Cad Bane was supposed to be killed by Boba Fett, but we haven’t seen that in canon yet. I really hope they answer what happened to Cad Bane in the current canon, I would love to see that in a comic, or in a book.
#7 “The lost nightsister”- Zoraida Cordova (from the episode “Bounty”)
I love Asajj Ventress for a million reasons and this story just made me love her even more. It’s the same story from the episodes but with an insight of what Ventress is thinking about. Which is unsurprisingly very depressing but the story itself turns out to be pretty uplifting.
It’s about her thoughts on what happened after the massacre of her sisters, her family, and how she deals with everything she had already lost. How lonely and worthless she feels. But during the course of the story, we see her reconnecting with who she is, and learning her value. Learning she is a powerful person, master or not.
It was also really sad to see how she compared herself to others. She was really sad and angry that nobody cared about what happened to her people, no one that cared about her. She saw how people wanted the girl in the box back and thought about how nobody would ever do the same for her and it was sad.
I also find very depressing that she couldn’t mourn her family.
But then she said this:
“What made her so special? What made her worth—No. She couldn’t think that way. This girl’s worth didn’t diminish her own. “
And like, I’m 100% rooting for her here.
Also, I love that once she realized the girl from the box was being smuggled to be essentially a child bride, she didn’t hesitate to scam the old creep. She may be an assassin, but during the course of this story you learn that she is disgusted by men who take advantage of female beings. I also love her internal monologue after the guy was bothering her in the cantina and how she just knows that if she can defend herself, she will do it with no hesitation.
Lovely story, I love knowing more about Ventress. Beautifully written.
#8"Dark Vengeance”-Rebecca Roanhorse (from the episodes "Brothers" and "Revenge")
It’s so on brand for Darth Maul to have his entire story be about Kenobi. It’s narrated by him, but directed towards you, like he is telling the reader a story. That in some stories could be like an awkward thing, but here it was well done. I love Maul and like, I could picture us having that conversation, well, me listening to him monologuing.
I really liked that he started telling the story from the events that happened on Naboo. You get to really see what happened from his perspective and understand why his hatred of Kenobi only grows over time.
Also, Darth Maul was like “I can excuse murder, but I draw the line at being rude”. Which is so morally wrong, but very fitting to his character. He is really upset at Kenobi for not caring about what happened to him. From what I gathered of the info that he let us know, he would probably like it more if Kenobi killed him instead of having to spend all those years in the garbage. Nobody cared for him enough to go and check up on what happened to him. That doesn’t excuse murder though.
The interactions he had with Kenobi let us know that it was not very jedi like the way he treated Maul, ignoring his rage and letting it consume him. Obi-wan just kept adding fuel to the fire because he was also really angry at Maul for the murder of Qui-Gon, not realizing that that would only make Maul be even angrier. And we know how that ended up for Satine Kenobi.
Final thoughts: Savage, I love you.
#9 "Almost a Jedi"-Sarah Beth Durst (from the episode "A Necessary Bond")
I thought this story was going to be from Ahsoka’s point of view. It was not.
I’m not mad at it though.
The story itself does focus on Ahsoka but it’s narrated by Katooni. It’s basically about how much she adores Ahsoka and wants to be like her, but also doubts herself a lot. She thinks she is not good enough to be a jedi. But her experiences both with Ahsoka and with Hondo Ohnaka makes her change her mind.
I want to say that I love the fact that it’s canon that she drew a poster of Ahsoka for her room because she really admired her that much it's so wholesome. It’s cute, and also let us see the perception the younglings had of Ahsoka.
Also, the bond between Hondo and Katooni is really wholesome. This also made me realize that this encounter with a young jedi is the reason he is immediately friendly with Ezra in Rebels. Ezra and Katooni do share similar personality traits sometimes.
Deep diving in Wookiepedia after reading this I found out that Hondo’s ship in Galaxy’s Edge is called “The Katooni” and now I’m sad thinking he was probably devastated when he learnt about Order 66 and what Vader did to the younglings. Great now I’m angsty about a chaotic evil space pirate.
I think it was confirmed by Dave Filoni that those kids are dead now. May the force be with them, they were good enough jedis.
#10 "Kenobi's Shadow"-Greg van Eekhout (from the episode "The Lawless”)
This is the re-telling of one of the saddest clone wars episodes. The episode just lets you think that everything’s going to be alright, that they are going to survive together, lets you hope that they take off just in time… and then it doesn’t happen. I’m still not over Satine’s death. And this made it even sadder. There were so many points their story could’ve gone differently, but their story was already at an end.
This is in third person but heavily focusing on Kenobi’s thoughts along the way. He really was close to turn to the dark side, but his love for Satine and his grief made him not surrender to it. But he felt an anger, a justified one, but an anger that I have never seen in a jedi other than Anakin Skywalker. And we all know what happens to him.
It was a good but sad reading. I won’t be reading this one again. It’s too much. I knew what was going to happen and it still hit me hard. I wish things would’ve gone differently for the both of them. I wonder if we will get flashbacks to this in the Kenobi show.
Also, I really need an Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine book of their time on the run.
#11 "Bug"-E. Anne Convery (inspired by the episode "Massacre”)
I can’t talk openly about this story because it’s not actually featured on the clone wars. It’s a really good story, specially if you want to expand on the lore regarding Dathomir and the Nightsister in the new canon. It’s perfectly executed, and even when the story isn’t about any of the main characters it hooked me from start to finish. Definitely one of my favorite stories of the book and If I had to pick one story from this anthology to read again it would be this one.
It has more gruesome details than the others and the atmosphere is dark, and I loved it. I would read a whole Dathomirian Nightsister novel written by this author if it was in this exact same style. I really liked it a lot.
In summary, I really enjoyed reading this Anthology. I would really recommend it to anyone who is fond of the Clone Wars or the prequels era. Adults, Kids, Teens, Young adults. I think I would’ve enjoyed this book as a kid as well, and I enjoyed it a lot now in my early twenties. It contains a little bit of everything and that makes it a really complete anthology.
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delimeful · 4 years
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my virtues uncounted (4)
winner of august’s second monthly fic poll! hope you enjoy!
warnings: antagonist/villain remus, panic, injury, blood, cliffhanger
previous chapters
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In the time it took for everyone else to get worked into a panic, Logan had come up with a few theories on why, exactly, their connection with Thomas would be so suddenly muted.
Of course, many of those theories were only useful if they could be proven, and seeing as they  had a limited amount of time and space to work with, he could set them aside to figure out the direct, exact cause another time.
For now, the priority was finding their way back home. Once they were able to reconnect with their part of the mindscape, their connection with Thomas would also hopefully repair itself.
“Think of our current status as dealing with some temporary interference,” he told the others. “Once we leave the subconscious, our metaphorical signals should reach Thomas again.”
“‘Should?’” Anxiety asked, looking dubious.
“And how are we to leave when this shadowy scourge is thwarting our every escape attempt?” Roman added, glaring balefully up at Anxiety.
“Hey, you technically haven’t made any escapes yet, so I technically haven’t thwarted anything yet.” Anxiety ignored Roman’s exasperated expression with ease, shrugging. “Schrodinger’s Thwarting.”
“Anxiety, kiddo,” Patton stepped a little closer, pulling them all back on track, “I don’t think we should stay down here for too much longer. It’s not good for us to be disconnected from our rooms like this.”
“And that’s not even mentioning the fact that we don’t know how Thomas is functioning without his core sides connected to him,” Logan added, hoping that the other Side was in a reasonable mood.
Anxiety kept his face neutral, but Logan could see the little crease between his eyebrows and the way he went slightly paler. “It’s still too dangerous to risk without a plan.”
“And with a plan?” Logan pressed.
Anxiety’s shoulders bunched up even further, and for a moment he was worried he’d gone too far, but then the other Side let out an irritated sigh.
“If it’s actually that concerning, and I can more than imagine how it could be, then. I guess. We could try. With a plan,” he emphasized as Patton perked up excitedly. “One that I agree to.”
“That’ll only take us a lifetime,” Roman grumbled, but even he seemed revitalized now that they were getting somewhere.
Logan found himself getting excited as well. “In that case, I need all the information you have on routes to neutral territory and the weather cycles here.”
Anxiety materialized the data into files on a touchscreen phone, which would work quite efficiently as a display considering their size. “Good luck figuring anything out. This end of the mindscape is way more… chaotic. Stuff’s always changing.”
“I don’t mind a challenge,” Logan reassured him, and then set to work making spreadsheets and comparing trends. It was almost soothing.
In the background, he could hear Patton asking about who they were most likely to encounter if they attempted to beeline for the neutral zone, and Roman bartering for possession of his sword back. (The trade seemed to be settling on Anxiety handing over the sword in exchange for no stabbing and no nicknames for a week. Roman was perhaps more reluctant to stop generating witty quips than necessary.)
As Logan suspected, when Anxiety didn’t feel implicitly threatened by them, he was much more open. Though, that might have also been the exposure to Patton’s determined friendliness, which Anxiety seemed to eye with the wariness of a stray cat. He’d have to bring this up the next time they had a debate about the effectiveness of so many of Thomas’s Sides being hidden away.
Now wasn't the time for that, however. Now was the time for action, as Roman liked to proclaim.
“I’ve found the best path for us to take,” he announced, drawing all eyes to him.
Probably no time for an illustrative powerpoint to demonstrate how he’d come to this conclusion. Perhaps later. A summary of the plan would do fine.
Roman and Patton glanced up at the large side frequently, but Anxiety listened with a critical attentiveness that Logan found himself appreciating. At the end, his brow was furrowed, but he didn’t seem fully decided one way or the other.
“This plan will only work in our current time frame,” Logan cautioned. “As you said, the landscape of this place is always shifting, so we need to take advantage of the patterns that we can. I expect getting lost would not end well.”
Anxiety nodded, and then seemed to come to a decision.
“If you’re certain that it’s the best time… Fine, I’ll believe you.” Anxiety grumped, his body language already displaying several signs that he was growing nervous at the idea.
Logan blinked once, genuinely surprised that he had convinced the other Side, before regaining his composure. No time to be touched by Anxiety’s apparent faith in him. “All the data I reviewed points to this being the best opportunity.”
“One condition,” Anxiety said, holding up a finger. “If it seems like the plan has failed and things get dangerous, our backup plan is giving me access so I can rise up.”
Roman raised a sharp eyebrow, his sword once again sheathed at his side. “I seem to distinctly recall you freaking out about that idea?”
Anxiety made a face at him. “Yeah, and I’ll continue to not like it, but if it keeps you losers from getting discorporated, I’ll deal. Do you guys agree or not?”
Logan traded looks with the other two, and then nodded. “It’s a reasonable backup plan.”
“Sure,” Anxiety snorted, and then hesitated for a moment before reaching out and placing his uninjured hand palm up on the table next to them.
Patton plopped himself down immediately, but Roman wasn’t as eager.
“I am not going back in your pocket,” Roman told him, unimpressed. “Lint on my outfit is a no-no, let alone giant lint.”
“Your outfit is already ruined,” Anxiety snapped back, rolling his eyes. The blood on the white outfit somewhat resembled a candy cane.
Logan raised a hand to interject before it could become an argument. “If I may suggest, your hood seems like it would both give us more space and allow for a vantage point to watch your back.”
“I can watch my own back,” Anxiety growled, and then sighed. “Just don’t fall out.”
He was exceedingly careful as he reached behind him to the hood of his jacket, and the three of them had no problem getting in, though they did end up knocking a few limbs against each other in the process.
As Logan expected, it was much easier to grip the folds of the hoodie fabric and looking over the edge of it gave them a vertigo-inducing view.
“Okay,” Anxiety said, sounding as though he was speaking more to himself than them. “Let’s do this. It’s probably going to crash and burn horribly, but whatever.”
“Remind me to speak with you about cognitive distortions later,” Logan mused.
From where he was peeking over Virgil’s shoulder, Patton cheered. “Woohoo, you can do it!”
“With our talents to help, we can’t fail,” Roman added, making some sort of dramatic flourish that Anxiety couldn't even see. “Onwards!”
“What am I, a horse?” Anxiety shot back, and then firmed his shoulders slightly and stepped to his door. “Remember, low in the hoodie so you aren’t seen.”
After receiving a chorus of agreements, he took an audible breath and stepped through the door.
The hoodie bounced slightly against his back with every step, but nothing too jarring. Logan resisted the completely illogical urge to hold his breath as they descended the creaking stairs.
After a long moment, Anxiety’s shoulders lowered slightly. “Nobody’s down here.”
He picked his way carefully through the living area, until they were back where they started, at that huge, weathered front door. It seemed much less insurmountable from Anxiety’s eye level. The other Side grabbed the knob and pushed it open, stepping over the threshold.
They all let out a breath of relief.
From there, Logan’s attention was consumed with providing directions in a low mutter, carefully navigating their way through the shifting, fog-covered landscape. Patton occasionally pointed out a distant landmark he maybe recognized, mostly unhelpfully.
Still, all factors considered, they made it a fair distance before things went wrong.
Anxiety had just taken the first step over a wooden bridge when the hair-raising cackle split the air behind them. At Logan’s side, Roman latched onto his wrist with an iron grip.
Anxiety held still for a moment longer before turning around, his hands tucked into his pockets in a faux gesture of casualness. “Remus. I thought silently stalking people in the dead of night was too subtle for you?”
There was an unpleasant crack of bone that made Logan glad he couldn’t see Remus. “Wouldn’t want to scare the little emo and his little uninvited stowaways off, would I?”
The three of them exchanged panicked looks. He knew?
Anxiety took a step back, hissing in frustration. “Are you the reason they’re like this? Or Dee?”
Another cackle. “The enchantment was all me! Double D would ruin my fun if he knew. But you’re no spoilsport! I can already feel all the exciting new additions to this game you’re thinking up in that squishy grey matter of yours. We can have a little fun together! Whaddya say?”
Anxiety took another step back, his back twitching with the urge to turn and flee. “Remus. C’mon. Think about Thomas.”
The atmosphere suddenly darkened, sending a chill down Logan’s spine.
“Maybe he’s the one who should be thinking about us,” Remus said, the grin in his voice suddenly much more menacing. “I know you’re tired of being ignored, Anxiety. You’re just as sick of our snakey friend’s interference as I am. Without them, there will be space for us!”
“Thomas needs them,” Anxiety urged, his rough voice a sharp contrast to Remus’s singsong encouragement.
“Puh-lease, we’re not taking them away forever! The Core Bores are like cockroaches; you just can’t get rid of ‘em, even when you crush their little heads.” A thoughtful pause. “They’re just about cockroach-sized now, too!”
Roman’s grip grew painfully tight.
Anxiety shook his head, jostling them slightly, and then began to slowly back across the bridge. The tension in him seemed to scream that he wanted to turn tail and flee, give into his flight instinct. But he couldn’t turn without putting them directly in Remus’s line of sight.
“Don’t be so antsy! I know you want to be noticed as bad as I do,” Remus advanced with slow, predatory steps.
Anxiety was too far from the other end of the bridge. He’d be caught.
Logan made pointed eye contact with the others, and held his free hand out, palm down.
“What I want doesn’t matter here. It’s too risky! It’s. Not. Happening.” They were stepping faster now, the noise overlapping.
Patton nodded once, placing his own hand on top. They both looked to Roman.
“Aw, that’s what I never got about you, emo. You’re always too scared to jump in and grab the bull by the horns! A little goring can be its own kind of fun, y’know.”
Roman’s expression finally turned certain, and he slammed his own hand down, completing the stack.
All of them felt it when the balance shifted, and there was a heartbeat of stillness before everything erupted.
Anxiety turned on his heel and bolted, seconds before a manic, ear-splitting scream split the air from behind them.
“YOU’RE LEAVING US!”
“Rise up!” Roman screeched, clinging to the hood’s fabric for dear life. “Rise up!”
“I don’t know how!” Anxiety yelled back, ducking and weaving through the fog-filled forest that had formed around them. “I’m trying to— it’s not the same as just appearing!”
“You have to stay in one spot and focus,” Patton said, trying hard to keep his voice calm. “You can do this!”
Anxiety came to a standstill, and for a few breathless seconds, they waited.
“It’s… it’s not working!”
“Try and focus on where you want to appear. Let yourself rise, don’t try to control it—“ Logan caught a flicker of movement behind them. “Watch out!”
Anxiety twisted out of the way, a double headed axe thunking into the trunk of a nearby tree. He clenched his fists, closing his eyes tightly, and Logan finally felt the familiar sensation of their part of the mindscape dropping into place around them.
He caught one last glimpse of Remus, body twisted into a throwing gesture and gaze almost shocked, before the scene changed to their living room.
Anxiety staggered, face pale, and the lot of them ended up sprawled over the length of the staircase, ungraceful but undoubtedly home and the right size once more.
A moment spent catching their breath, and then.
“We made it!” Patton yelled, voice cracking in relief as he threw his arms out, laid out on his back.
From the carpeted landing he was still facedown on, Roman grunted an exhausted affirmation.
“It was a close call,” Logan said, pushing himself up and dusting his tie off. “We’ll need to take precautions for the future.”
“Good thing we have Anxiety!” Patton said brightly. “He’s an expert at precautionary measures!”
“As long as he doesn’t precaution Thomas into never going outside again,” Roman muttered, with no real aggression to his tone. He seemed just as glad that Anxiety had gotten them all out of there, if not more.
Anxiety didn’t rise to the bait. Logan turned to thank the other Side properly, and was met with the sight of him curled in over himself, a hunched over ball of hoodie. “... Anxiety?”
With a hoarse cry of pain, the Side yanked something from his side. A comically oversized throwing knife, drenched in a slick coating—
“Oh,” Anxiety said in a small voice, struggling to stem the bloodflow from the stab wound in his torso. “Shit.”
Within seconds, a dark stain began to spread, and Logan immediately lurched forwards, trying to seal the wound, erase it, even just put enough pressure on it to clot the bleeding—
Anxiety inhaled sharply. Nothing about the nature of the wound changed. It wasn’t healing. Logan’s hands were covered in warm-wet-red and nothing was healing.
Past the ringing in his ears, he could hear the others yelling behind him, trying to accelerate Anxiety’s integration into the conscious mind.
All he could focus on was Anxiety’s face, tight with pain and resignation.
“It’s fine,” he muttered, the hitch in his voice betraying him. “We can’t die. It’s fine. Can you— Can you feel Thomas?”
Logan nodded stitedly. The connection was faint, but growing stronger.
Anxiety nodded once, sharply. “Good. That’s— That’s all that matters.”
Then, like the question had been all that was keeping him awake, he went limp like a puppet with strings cut.
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AO3 Tag Game
Tagged by @therealstartraveller776 ! Thank you—these are so much fun! 👀
How many works do you have on AO3?
Well, I’m in the process of transferring over from FanFiction.Net… so just three right now (because I’m editing everything and rewriting accordingly lol). They’re all oneshots. But on FanFiction.Net I have 59 stories; which isn’t including the stuff I haven’t published anywhere yet. I also have a fic I’m cowriting with a friend, so that shows up on my page too! I have to admit…AO3 is a little daunting with all the tags and stuff 😅 that’s why my transition is so slow….
What is your total AO3 wordcount?
8,593. Which is… nowhere NEAR what I’ve actually written… 👀🤦🏼‍♀️. I’ve got somewhere around 544,593 published words for all my fic accounts. One day I’ll get it all rewritten and transferred and I’ll have a more perfect tally.
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
10 fandoms! The Hobbit/LOTR, Phantom Stallion (book series), Thoroughbred (book series), Pirates of the Caribbean, Chronicles of Narnia, Person of Interest, MCU, Sherlock, Barbie (Life In The Dreamhouse—I wrote oneshots for my siblings lol), So Sang The Dawn (book series).
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
I have to go to FFN.Net so technically this is cheating (but I don’t HAVE five fics on AO3 yet!)… but…
1. Forbidden Desires (Narnia fic)
2. We’re All Soldiers Here (Narnia fic)
3. Star Crossed (Narnia fic)
4. To Be Chivalrous (Narnia fic)
5. Déjà Vu (That’d Be French) (POTC fic)
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
I always try to respond to my comments, negative and positive. I like that my readers engage with the story and I want to show them (as many as possible!) that I love them for their dedication and the time they’ve put in to reading my story. Readers are some of the best parts of writing fics—and seeing their ideas and headcanons is so awesome!
What is the fic you’ve written with the Angstiest ending?
I’m currently in the process of rewriting and finishing one… but it’s a Narnia Golden Age fic centering around Edmund called “Forbidden Desires”. Definitely not a sweet ending….
But the angstiest one published is a oneshot crossover called “Like Falling Stars” where Loki dies… which ties into the next question.
Do you ever write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?
Yes I DO write crossovers! I actually quite enjoy writing them—I mostly do them for MCU/So Sang The Dawn (which is a fantasy book series). But I’ve also done MCU/Narnia, MCU/Sherlock, and LOTR/Narnia to name some I’ve posted at one time or another!
Craziest has to be a Loki/Edmund Pevensie shortfic I wrote where they meet by chance during the Convergence after Thor saves Loki from getting killed that first time on Svartalfheim. I never posted it anywhere but I might one day. It was ✨spicy✨
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Probably every multi chapter fic ever lol. People hate the ship, hate my character choices, hate my headcanons, hate my worldbuilding, hate my preferences for relationships, etc…. I delete them all cuz they’re usually all guest or anon reviews. So they don’t matter lol.
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I’m 100% gonna steal how I write it from @therealstartraveller776 because I don’t get into that weird romance novel ‘detailing the physical act’. I just feel like it can really destroy the story if it’s not a romance novel type (none of my stories ever have been—maybe an occasional oneshot). I like to write more how the characters are thinking and their reactions to being intimate than just describing sex. Because yes we want them to bang, but if we wanted all that description we can always go to a romance novel on kindle and switch up the names and pretend it’s a historical AU. And that’s so basic.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No, I haven’t. I don’t think…. 🤷🏼‍♀️
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I’ve done it three times in my life and I’m currently doing it with a friend who mutually dislikes the Loki show as much as I do (we’re rewriting to our standards of excellence). And it’s the best co-write to date! Usually I prefer to write on my own, but this was a wonderful exception!
What’s your all-time favourite ship?
Oh good glory… there’s really too many to have just one. Loki/Raine Fording (this is a crossover one so doesn’t really count), Loki/Jane Foster, Thumbelina/Cornelius, Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Will Turner/Elizabeth Swann, Caspian/Susan Pevensie, Robin Hood/Marion, Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley/Pansy Parkinson
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Phantom Stallion by Terri Farley. I was thirteen and obsessed with horses. (Still am truth be told!) and had been reading the fica for two years before my sister told me to get an account and write fic myself. lol it’s her fault I ever discovered doing this 😂 She set me up with my account and gave me the motivation.
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
Less Than Nothing, a Narnia oneshot. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, but an awesome couple asked if they could turn it to audio on YouTube and that’s Amazing!
Tagging: @dkmbookworm @fast-and-the-curious @turniptitaness @presumptious-quirks and anyone else who wants to participate!
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