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sincerely-sofie · 2 months

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Have you ever wanted to draw something but you fought due to your skill level at the time you decide not to do it

Ohhh man. I’ve got so many projects that I want to make but haven’t because I view my current skill set as lacking— and they’re almost always drawing related, because I’m very insecure about my drawing skills— even moreso than my writing skills. To go on a tangent and paint a picture of how severe this visual art insecurity is, I will list off how many people I have directly permitted to read my major written pieces once I passed my mid-teens:

My older sister, because she was my co-writer for the project and not letting her read my work wasn’t an option

My mother on one occasion

My aunt, who has experience with writing and publishing, and I have only ever sent two pieces to

Look at that number of people. The number of pieces I shared with them, in total, was four out of the hundreds of projects I’ve made over the years. I was so precious about my writing because I’m insecure about it. I’m even more insecure about my art. I couldn’t list off all the drawing projects I hesitate to make because I think it’s impossible with my current skill level, not even in a thousand years, but I’ll give a few examples that are always in the back of my mind lately.

A semi-animated pilot to a fantasy-comedy cartoon parodying The Office, starring a goblin secretary who’s trying to assassinate her employer and take over as the final boss of an RPG-esque dungeon that operates like an office building, while her employer is a lich who misinterprets all her efforts to kill him as her being flirty, leading him to develop a very severe crush on the goblin. The project is titled “Boss Fight”, and I have all the resources I need to make it, but I drag my feet because of my art insecurity… also I would be doing all the voice acting myself, and I don’t find my voice very appealing even when I change it to fit different characters.

A webcomic about a fantasy world populated by bipedal bug people that features a very brief “save the world” plot, then focuses the rest of the storyline on how the characters recover from the events of their backstories and the trauma the experienced while saving the world. It’s titled “The Creeping Chronicles”, and I love the project but am so insecure about being able to do the story justice with my art skills that I’ve tentatively pivoted to making it a book series instead. It’s got 21k+ words across 10-ish chapters because I’m too insecure about my art to draw it fully.

A slice of life comic titled “Welcome to Wayside” that’s basically Gravity Falls meets Stardew Valley where a young girl saves a cryptid’s life and now he’s stuck helping her until he repays the life debt he owes. The story features a vaguely men in black-style evil secret agency called G.L.O.O.M. (Gents for Ludicrous Oddity Organization and Management) who have various ranks are named after facets of fashion (khakis are their grunt labor and pocket squares are researchers) and they use a threat-ranking system based on dress codes (i.e. “WE HAVE A BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET, REPEAT: BLACK TIE DOWN ON SOUTH STREET”), and I adored G.L.O.O.M. along with the cast of characters featured in the story, but I don’t feel confident in my ability to design interesting-looking original cryptids.

I could leave this post at that, but I’ve got an important thing to say on this subject—

If you want to make something but are hesitating to because your skill levels are lackluster, make it anyways.

Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever can. Let yourself make the thing, and let yourself make the thing badly. Love it and how ugly it is. The perspective is all askew in this part, and that character is horribly off model there, and isn’t it all amazing? You made that! You made a thing! And you wouldn’t have this thing that you made if you waited until the conditions were perfect to make it and refused to create the thing before your skills were sufficient.

There’s this terrible thing about creative projects— one that is very noticeable in drawing projects especially, in my experience. As your artistic skills develop, your artistic vision also develops to become more and more detailed and masterful… and it’s always going to be outside of your grasp. If you wait until you’re ready to make the thing, you will never make the thing, because you’ll never feel ready no matter how much you build your skills. But if you make the thing before you feel totally prepared, you’ll learn and grow artistically as well as personally, and will be able to feel more confident in future thing-making efforts.

#creativity tips with sofie #(kinda)#(not an official installment to the series but it fits into things well enough to include it in the tag)#sofie answers asks #creativity tips #creativity tip #creativity advice #art tips #art tip #art advice #drawing tips #drawing tip #drawing advice

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v1smokewife · 4 months

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who is this person - chapter ten

On a quest to find love on a dating website, Sanji falls head over heels for a woman with an interest in...alternative relationships that sends him down a rabbit hole of completing tasks for a seemingly sadistic mistress. But what happens when she turns out to be more than what she seems?

Zoro pretends to be a female on the internet to talk to Sanji and bad things happen.

Darkfic with themes of internalised homophobia, bad bdsm practices and lying about your identity to strangers on the internet. Please read with caution. This is NOT how BSDM should be practiced. Always practice Sane, Safe and Consensual practicesboarders on being considered dead dove do not eat material

read on ao3

authors note; We are nearly at a home run. The next chapter will be the final chapter! I’m sorry that it’s been such a plot heavy past two chapters. Sorry if you just came for the smut XD next chapter will be a return to form. There WILL be smut before it finishes. I’m currently plotting out the sequel. You may be wondering, sequel? So, remember how this is based off on a one piece fanfic of the same name that I wrote in 2013, well that had a sequel. However, because this one went so incredibly different, it’s likely the sequel will too (and it will be much darker as the original sequel was darker) Anyway, enjoy!

S POV

Sanji had planned to meet up with Vivi the next day at the café that he normally met up with Robin and Nami. It would be nice to see someone who wasn't involved in the messy situation that he currently found himself in. Spending the time with her would maybe make him see clearer than he had been this past week. He wasn't feeling great. Honestly, he wasn't feeling great at all, but he was better than yesterday. He was getting used to the whole idea right now. However, with Zeff's blessing, he got next two weeks off to sort his shit out, so he was feeling grateful for that.

So, Sanji was looking forward to it. It was an excuse for him not to fall into a bad routine of depression, so he got up and got dressed before going out.

He didn't think he would tell Vivi about what was going on, but it would be nice to have a conversation with someone who wasn't involved. Meeting Vivi offered a much-needed respite from the chaos that had been engulfing his life recently. The prospect of spending time with someone removed from the turmoil was like a breath of fresh air. He had appreciated Zeff's understanding and the time off to gather his thoughts and emotions. Getting ready to see Vivi, he felt a sense of normality, even if it was just for a brief moment or a quick chance at a break from all the madness that had been going on recently. When he got dressed, he continued to dress well for himself, a habit that was part of his identity, a reminder of himself before this mess.

Walking out of the apartment, he was thinking about the past couple of days. The revelation about Zoro was confusing and his emotions ran high when he thought about it and an unsettling sense of betrayal still was there. However, he wanted to forget about it just for two minutes.

He got to the usual cafe. When we went in, he saw Vivi sitting at a booth near the window. She turned to look at Sanji and smiled.

"Hi!" She said, letting the menu sit down, "How are you doing?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Sanji said trying to joke but it wasn't far from the truth. Sanji sat across from her. Vivi looked at the menu again and then settled it down.

Meeting Vivi was a relief. Her presence was comforting, and her smile was genuine. They exchanged pleasantries and ordered their drinks. Sanji found himself enjoying their conversation. She spoke about her humanitarian projects, and he spoke about cooking. It was nice. He needed a break.

He was so into the conversation that he didn't notice someone else approach their table. It was Nami. He turned his head when he noticed she was there. Nami looked at him awkwardly before looking at Vivi who looked at her sheepishly.

"Oh. I must have double booked,"

Ah. This wasn't just a casual conversation. It was a ploy to get Nami and Sanji back on good terms.

"It's okay…I'll leave," Nami seemed a little annoyed. Hurt even. Sanji didn't want to see Nami upset even if he wasn't happy with her.

"No no, it's okay," Sanji tried to protest, "I don't mind if you want to sit with us,"

Nami hesitated for a moment. She was trying to gauge Sanji's sincerity. It was clear that the situation was really uncomfortable for everyone involved so Vivi gave her girlfriend an encouraging smile. "I think it would be good for us to talk,"

Nami took a seat next to Vivi. Her expression was showing a mix of reluctancy and hope. Sanji took a deep breath. He would have liked to have given it a bit of time but…maybe this was necessary. Maybe this was what they needed.

As they settled into an awkward silence. Vivi took the lead in the conversation. She tried to keep the conversation neutral. The weather, the cafe, the food (when it arrived) and local news. The tension began to settle and there was a natural rhythm of conversation. Sanji found himself looking at Nami every now and then. He could tell that she was not happy with what had happened, and it needed to change. When their drinks and food arrived, Vivi excused herself to go to the bathroom which left Nami and Sanji alone.

It was awkward. It was silent and Sanji didn’t really know what to say to her. Nami also looked like she felt the same way too. She looked like she didn’t know what to say either to him.

“Nami.. i”

“Sanji, I’m…sorry about what happened,” And she looked like she truly meant it. Sanji watched her expression shift. “No, I’m really sorry about how things turned out. I never wanted you to get hurt like this,”

Sanji nodded, appreciating Nami’s moment of vulnerability and honesty, “I know…I…It’s just a lot to take in at the minute,”

Nami looked down at her coffee. She had been stirring it absentmindedly, “I understand. I should have been more upfront about my suspicions…I just… never thought Zoro would do something like this. I didn’t want to believe it,”

The conversation that began to unfold was delicate but much needed. There was so much going on right now and while he didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle, he saw the regret and frustration in her eyes. It resonated with his own feelings. His own feelings of hurt.

"Yeah. Imagine how I feel right now," Sanji leaned back in his chair. The fact that him…of ALL people would do this.

Nami nodded, now her eyes beginning to meet his, "I wish I told you…I just… I wanted him to stop. I wanted to give him a chance to stop on his own accord,"

Sanji sighed with a mixture of understanding and lingering disbelief in his expression. "I get it. Nami. Really, I do. You were in a really tough spot. I just…this whole thing with Zoro, it's messed up. I wouldn't thought he’d do something like this,"

Nami's gaze was filled with empathy, "I know, Sanji. I'm so sorry I didn't step in when I could have…I guess, he's my friend too and I just wanted him to do the right thing,"

But he didn't. They were both aware of that, but it ended up going way too far now.

"It's just so hard to wrap my head around," Sanji admitted running his hand through his hair, "Zoro… of ALL people…HIM…I just don't get it,"

Nami reached his hand across the table, placing her hand across the table as a gesture in comfort, "It's okay…That happened wasn't fair to you. I'm here for you if you ever want to talk,"

Sanji looked up at her and met her gaze, "Thank you Nami. It means a lot to me," But things just never ever seemed to add up. Sanji sighed, "I Just…I know it sounds awful… but I wish I knew what he was thinking…I wish I could talk to him,"

Nami's expression softened as she listened to Sanji, "I understand…Closure is important. To be honest, I wish I knew too,"

Sanji nodded, at the moment his thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions and questions, "Yeah, closure. I'm not sure I'm ready to face him though. Everything is just really complicated right now,"

The conversation paused as Vivi returned and she immediately sense a change in the atmosphere. She looked between Sanji and Nami and picking up the vibe, "Everything okay here?"

"Yeah. We're talking things through," Sanji replied.

Vivi nodded, sliding in next to Sanji. "That's good to hear. I think you needed to hear each-other out," As they wrapped up their time together, Sanji felt a new sense of support from both of his friends. It was comforting to know what he wasn't alone in this. He also began to realise that facing Zoro was going to happen. It didn't have to…of course but understanding Zoro's motivations and confronting the hurt and betrayal and finding a way past it.

Leaving the cafe afterwards, Sanji felt a mixture of emotions. The weight of the situation was still there but now the road felt clearer and he felt as if he knew what direction he was going in this time. He knew what the road was the ahead of then abd it would be challenging but he knew he wasn't walking alone.

One day…maybe One day he’d face Zoro but right now, he had to wait until he was ready and he wouldn’t be ready for a long time.

A FEW WEEKS LATER.

Z POV

For the past couple of weeks, Zoro was trying to move on from what had happened. He didn't try and contact Sanji or Nami within that time. He kept mostly to Luffy at the minute for support. Luffy was still oblivious to what was going on but even then, he sensed that something happened but Luffy didn’t pry. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Robin’s conversation haunted him every day. He thought about her words all the time. As nerve hitting as they were, Robin was right. This experience had been so real for him.

However, kept going on with his life. However, one day it would all change. Zoro had just been out for a run when he came back. To be honest, after a little while, Zoro needed a little bit of space to figure things out but he thought about what he done every day.

His phone buzzed while he was in the shower but he payed no mean. It was probably just Luffy. However, when he got out the shower. He picked up his phone and looked at it and…was shocked.

Zoro never deleted Zoey's profiles or apps. He didn't look at them but he didn't delete them. So, when Sanji messaged Zoey, Zoro was absolutely shocked.

S: Meet me at the Baratie tonight. I think we should talk. I’ve told Luffy I won’t be there so it will just be us.

Zoro stood there. He was dripping wet and staring at the message on his phone. His heart began to pound in his chest as a mix of surprise and apprehension as well as a faint glimmer of hope stirred within him in hopes that Sanji was reaching out like this. His mind reeled. Why would Sanji want to meet now, after all these weeks? Was this a confrontation, a chance for closure or something.

Once the shock wore off, Zoro quickly dressed before getting on with the rest of his day. However, when the time was reaching the normal time that he normally would go to the Baratie if he was being forced to by Luffy, he made his way to the Baratie. It had recently occurred to him that he’s never been there on his own. This restaurant was where so many fights between him and Sanji would break. It was funny… those moments seemed like such a far away world right now. It seemed like a completely different memory and yet… here he was, ready to face the music.

He wasn’t nervous. Didn’t see the point in getting nervous now. He had come to terms that wit was very much possible that Sanji might not want to have anything to do with each other never again. It would be the right thing to do in this situation. There would probably be some disappointment if that were the case…

Standing at the door, he looked inside. It was dark inside and he couldn’t see Sanji. So, he shot him a text.

Z: I’m here. Waiting outside.

He waited outside, looking around the building and then…ah, he saw Sanji emerge from the back office. Sanji looked…fine. He didn’t look completely broken apart or upset or anything like that. He just looked…fine. Zoro didn’t know what he was to expect from all of this. Sanji came over and opened the door to let him in. Zoro watched him. A familiar figure in front of him and yet the circumstances were completely foreign.

“Zoro,” Sanji greeted at the door. His voice was steady but with an undercurrent of tension between them. Clearly, neither of them had forgot. “Thanks for coming,”

It felt…odd. It was only then when he was there it hadn’t occurred that him and Sanji had never even hanged out on their own. They really only ever had these interactions when Luffy made them go. He didn’t even know Sanji…until Zoey.

Sanji brought them over. There was a table set up with two beers. Zoro was silently grateful for the beer as that would probably make it better There was silence as they set down and it was a heavy mutual silence. There was a mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation. Simply, Zoro needed to give him an explanation and an apology but…

“I’ve had a little bit of time to think…” Sanji decided to break the silence, “About…what happened and about…us,” He took the glass in his hand a swirled it a little… “And I released that I can’t move on unless I get some answers,”

Zoro nodded. That was reasonable and he was prepared for this…or at least as prepared as he could be for something like this, “I understand. I owe you an explanation and an apology. I…understand that you might have questions…I’ll answer to the best of my ability then,”

“Why did you do it?”

Understandable how that would be a first question, fine. Zoro nodded and then answered, “It was a joke…at first. Luffy and Usopp made the account to mess with me. However, the more and more it went on, I got invested in our conversations,”

Sanji listened to Zoro talk. His emotions changed as he spoke. Shifting from hurt to confused. It hadn’t been serious to begin with. It had been a joke, but it turned serious. That was what stuck to Sanji.

“…it wasn’t a joke to you…after a while?” Sanji asked more for clarity as his voice was deep with intensity.

Zoro hesitated with his answer. He didn’t know what that would imply. That after all this time…his feelings right now were complex. “No. It wasn’t. I started to enjoy our conversations. The things you did…I cared more than I thought I would. I just…ended up getting carried away with the persona. I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t know how to without…ruining things,”

Sanji processed his answer before talking again, “But you did ruin it, Zoro. You lied and you played with my feelings. I just…want to understand why you didn’t stop when you seen how far things were getting,”

Zoro then took a deep breath and then looked at his beer trying to think of the answer to his question, “Believe it or not…I actually enjoyed our connection. The version that existed through Zoey…It felt different from our fights and bickering. It was…real,”

“But it wasn’t real,” Sanji replied, his grip tightening on his glass, “It was built on a lie…a lie that went too far,”

Typical but not unexpected that Sanji wouldn’t except a simple explanation. Hell, Zoro would be surprised if he had. There was no justification, but Sanji deserved the truth after all.

“I ruined it. I know that” There was no sense in hiding it. There was no other way he can move beyond this, “I didn’t want to tell you. I enjoyed what we had too much, and I can’t lie about that. Even if it was based on a lie, it was meaningful,”

Sanji looked at him for a second. His face was unreadable as he took in hothouse words, “Meaningful?” He repeated back. For some reason that felt…upsetting to him, “What you did to me was humiliating. I dedicated my time for you, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me yourself?!”

There was an increasing tension growing the more and more that they look into this. There seems to be a difference of opinions here. This is…after all, an incredibly delicate matter that they are both now talking about, and they aren’t even touching on the pictures.

Sanji seemed angry at him, and he understood the need to be angry. That pain and betrayal. The humiliation of it all.

“I don’t know what more I can say other than Zoro. It..happened and I can’t go back and fix this… I got lost in the lie like you did,”

Sanji’s anger seemed to simmer. He didn’t want to blow up and he wanted to deal with this with some matter of delicacy but the fact that Zoro feels like he is in any way the victim in all of this is…insulting, “You just don’t get it…do you? It wasn’t just about the lie. It was how far you it go. The conversations…the..pictures. I sent you things I would never send anyone because i thought you were Zoey. It was very real to me, and it felt like a stab in the back when I found out it was all a game,”

It was Zoro’s turn to simmer in anger because how many times does he have to tell him this, “It wasn’t a game to me either,” He clearly felt annoyance build up in his voice. Sanji wasn’t listening to him. Why invite him over if he wasn’t going to listen to him at all? It just doesn’t make sense in the slightest, “I’ve been trying to tell you this for a while. I can’t explain why or how. I don’t think you really care for that but my feeling towards it have changed, and it was a lie that turned into something more…something i cannot control anymore,”

“And how could I possibility understand all of that?” Sanji just felt more frustrated than anything because he just simply didn’t understand his reasoning. It was selfish and quite possibly life ruining what he’s done, and Zoro cannot seem to see that, “I…I don’t want to go around in circles about this…we might never agree… I need to know something else. What happened that night? The night in the club…”

That night had been brought up and he knew it was avoidable. Zoro knew how awful it had been for Sanji. For Zoey to not show up, for Sanji to be spiked and then nearly taken advantage of in an alleyway and then to end up completely vulnerable in another man’s flat like that.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen…” Zoro said almost immediately, “I…didn’t plan for that…”

“Then what did you plan for? I was spiked by a stranger and ended up in your bed,” Sanji didn’t want to ask about it but he felt like he had to…” Did…something happen between us that night?”

Zoro paused for a moment. It was funny how he had wanted something to happen between them, but it never had…that was, in a way, one blessing about the whole thing, “Nothing happened between us…I had…wanted something to happen between us but I saw you there with that guy and I saw what was going to happen if I didn’t intervene. I don’t regret taking you back to mine, even though nothing happened,”

Sanji didn’t know what stuck to him first. The fact that nothing happened between them or the fact that all this time, he had wanted something to happen. At least it answered one question. Nothing happened between them. Zoro and Sanji hadn’t slept together and Sanji had been attacked that night and Zoro…saved him. His next question came out, it was almost by complete mistake.

“Do you…. have feelings for me?” Sanji asked, feeling tense at the question because from the conversation, he already knew the answer. Zoro met his gaze. The question hung heavily in the air between them. It was a question that went to the heart of this situation and a question that both of them were maybe dreading coming up.

“Yes,” Zoro finally admitted to him out loud and it felt…weird. Good actually, but weird.

Sanji sat back in his chair. He…had begun to think that was a possibility. Zoro had gotten such…incredibly intimate photos of Sanji during that time and it can’t have been for nothing.

“It’s a lot to take in…” Sanji admitted.

“I know that” There was a hint of relief that it was finally getting its way through to him, “I was half accepting you get get angry at me for having feelings for you,”

Sanji’s face was a mix of emotions at that, “Angry? I don’t know if that’s the word for it…confused, maybe but not angry,”

Zoro leaned back. He didn’t show it, but he actually began to relax a little bit. “I half expected you to throw something at me…”

Sanji sighed, running his hand throw his hair. He was lost in thought about this whole situation. It was…crazy to say the least, “This whole thing Zoro…it’s a mess. And you telling me that you, of all people, have feelings for me…it’s just…that’s insane,”

“Insane is one way of putting it,” He gave a wry half smile, finally acknowledging the absurdity of the situation, “I never expected this to happen. You and I…ever since Luffy introduced us, we’ve been at odds and then Zoey happens and…i never expected this to happen ever,”

Sanji shook his head as the absurdity settled for him too, “We’ve been annoying each other for years. Now, you suddenly tell me that you have feelings for me. It’s a lot to wrap my head around, honestly,”

Sanji was reflectively silence. The conversation and the weight of it settled around them. It wasn’t closure. This actually opened a lot more questions than answered them.

“I need time,” Sanji admitted because all of this was one big slap in the face right now, “I don’t really know where to go from here,”

Zoro nodded. The two of them sat there. Both of them wrapped in their own thoughts. The revelation had indeed made things difficult. Added layers to their already complex relationship. Once things were done, there was sense of a tentative understanding between them. Zoro left the restaurant shortly later. He was willing to go on with life once again. It was fine. Sanji needed time. That was fine. He could give him time. That was okay.

Time was all he had right now, after all.

#one piece zosan #vinsmoke sanji #zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fanfic #opla #roronoa zoro #one piece #op zosan

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corie-is-writing · 1 year

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↳ ❝ [S Y N P O S I S] ¡! ❞

Y/n L/n, a simple minded reader, is one of the biggest fans of a popular web novel, Twisted wonderland. In their shock after finding out it has ended, they froze in the middle of a busy street and got hit by a truck.

Dizzy and confused, they have awoken in a coffin in the world they adore so much, and must use their knowledge to survive and stop the boys from overblotting.

A/n: I just realized the first paragraph disappeared omfg

2nd a/n: two paragraphs from the story were missing wtf

↳ ❝ [M A S T E R L I S T] ¡! ❞

↳ ❝ [WELCOME TO THE VILLAINS WORLD] ¡! ❞

˗ˏˋ How'd I get here? ´ˎ˗

Walking through the busy streets, you stop at a red light in the sidewalk. Scrolling through the webnovel on your phone while waiting for the lights to turn green.

You had just finished playing the latest episode on the game version of your favorite novel, [Twisted Wonderland.]

Originally a webnovel, adapted into a physical copy and game, it is a story where a teen named Yuuya ends up into a twisted version of wonderland, where he befriends a beast and characters that are based off of disney villains and attend a magical school called Night Raven College.

With the new friends he has made, they fight against troubled students who have overblotted, which is basically the magic version of a mental breakdown.

The latest episode of the game drove you to tears, Idia's voice actor did such a good job, but damn, it took you hours to defeat his overblot form and Ortho! But the ending made you so excited to finally finish the novel and see what happens next.

You sighed, reaching the last piece of paragraph just as the light turns green. You begin walking, excited to finish the chapter and read the next.

Out the corner of your eye, you see a short text in bold, one that made you stop you in your tracks and widen your eyes.

"Author's note: Will be on hiatus until furthur notice!"

"What."

What indeed, there's no way you cried a whole night catching up with the novel just for it to suddenly to be on hiatus?!

The author doesn't even explain why?! You groan, 'Alright, calm down! there must be a good explanation!' Of course, they must.

maybe they're burnt out from helping with the physical copies and the games, afterall, they're the artist as well! Maybe they're health isn't doing well, or there is some personal problems they'd rather not share.

In your thoughts you fail to notice the angered drivers beeping, waiting for you to finally move, as well as the sudden shouts and cries as the pedestrians and drivers turn to see a truck driving so reckelssly.

"God damn it! work you little shit!" The driver yells, steering the wheel and hitting the breaks, yet to no avail.

As you're about to move, you snap your head to the sounds of loud beepings, just to be met with a truck inches away from your face.

"Eh?"

𓆩♡𓆪

You awake to the sound of loud shuffling and a headache, your whole body is sore. "Is it morning already..?" You whisper.

You try to stretch yet your arms stay bent, you blink, realizing you're confined in a small space.

The panic settles it, your breath quickens as you look around the dark space. 'What..did I get kidnapped..?' You think.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember what you saw or did last. You recall walking through the busy streets, reading chapter 6 of twisted wonderland that has recently been published.

And the truck.

The truck that was so close to you, you could smell the mud and oil it has been through, feel the heat emitting from it, blinded by it's headlights, and the touch of the rough metallic texture as it meets your skin.

You could still feel the aftermath of the quick collision between you and the truck.

You're whole body was now screaming in agony as you recall that awful memory, were you..dead?

'No way..how am I thinking and moving if I'm dead?' You shake off that thought, did you survive? maybe everyone thought you died and decided to bury you already.

You are snapped out of your thoughts as the shuffling grows louder, you listen in, able to hear a voice.

"Crap, people are coming.. gotta get a uniform while..grrr!" You are startled as you hear the raspy voice belonging to someone, who was that? were you actually kidnapped? and why did he growl?!

"Tch, this lid is too heavy.. time for my secret move!" You hear the mysterious voice take a deep breath, suddenly, blue fire surrounds your view and melts the lock of the enclosure you were trapped in.

Tripping out of the place ('Is that..a floating coffin?' You question yourself) you widen your eyes in surprise as you look around the place and fire. "B-blue fire?!"

"Ok,ok. gotta get.." You turn to the source of the voice, he looks up at you as well, shocked. "WHAA- WHY ARE YOU AWAKE!?"

You can't believe what you're seeing, a blue eyed talking tanuki looking cat with fiery blue flames in his hears, paired with his grey fur and white fluff around his neck and the raspy annoying voice of his..this can't be..!

'Grim?!' On the ground, you sit there motionless with your jaw hanging low, how the fuck-

"What are you looking at like that!" He snaps you out of your thoughts, this wasn't in the game or novel..well, maybe because of you?

'Holy shit does this mean I'm Yuu now?!' You feel giddy and excited, smiling. Were you finally going to be the heroic main character you've always dreamed of being?

"what's with the smile? Well, whatever. Hey, human! Gimme those clothes already! otherwise.." Grim's eyes sharpen as he smirks, his claws out. "I'll burn ya!"

You shiver, and immediately get up from the floor, booking it quickly. 'There's no time for questions, y/n, survival first!' You think.

You run through the large halls, not wasting time to take in every detail (unfortunately for you). Grim chases behind closely.

You end up lost in a dead end, a place full of books. 'In the story, Yuu gets lost in the library while running from Grim, is this it?'

You don't have time to answer your own questions as Grim runs in, laughing. "Did you really you'd get away from me, dumb human?!" He yells, it wasn't really a question.

"Hand over those clothes before I-" He doesn't get to finish his words before he is suddenly tied by a rope. "BWAAH! What's with this rope?!"

Grim struggles to move out the ropes and tried to bite into it, before turning to the culprit that caused this. You can't contain your excitement. 'The sussy deadbeat dad is here!'

"It is no mere rope, it is the lash of love!" A masked man in a suit announces. "Ah! found you at last, you're the new student, no?" He says, looking at you.

"This won't do, you mustn't leave the gates or take untamed familiars with you!" The man lightly scolds, Grim doesn't seem all too happy to be called a familiar.

"Let me go! who you callin' familiar?!" he yells, wiggling around in the rope. Crowley just shakes his head, ignoring him.

"That's what all rebellious beasts say.." He sighs, grabbing him and shutting his mouth. "It's quite rare for a student to open the gate on their own.. Uuugh, how impatient must you be?" He turns to you, you just look at him with a smile, he seems a little taken back by that.

"Hurry on now! the ceremony has already started." Crowley says and begins to make his way to the hall of mirrors, you follow closely behind, shaking of excitement slightly.

'O.M.G! Headmaster Crowley is right in front if me?! how is this possible..!' It seems all the excitement by being isekaied into your favorite game and novel has made you forget about your hatred for Crowley.

The whole time you were walking to the hall of mirrors, Grim was staring at you, wondering why you had such a strange look on your face.

𓆩♡𓆪

The walk to the hall of mirrors was longer than it was in the novel or game, possibly because there are no skips in this world. Not to mention– the halls seem longer and the school in general is a lot bigger than on screen or how it was described in the novel.

You take in every little detail, looking around the place in excitement. You never would have guessed you would end up in the story you loved the most.

The three of you (Grim included) finally reach the hall of mirrors, you here a muffled voice, yet clear enough to understand.

"Did he get a stomachace?" At that, Crowley barges in through the doors.

"No, I have not!" His voice echoes through the dark halls, catching the attention of the students and even startling some.

The background students, surprisingly, all look very different, despite the game not caring much and reusing the same models for them.

The ones you recognize the most, however, are the ones that get your heartbeat going and your smile grow wider, the main characters of the book and game!

"Ah, he's here." A red haired boy acknowledges. Crowley steps forward with you in tow, Grim still being carried around like a bag.

"I cannot believe you all, we were missing a student so I went to fetch them." He explains before turning to you, "You're the only one without an assigned dormitory, I shall watch over your familiar, so step up to the dark mirror." Crowley instructs.

You walk up to the mirror, it seems a lot more scarier and realistic than you remember.

"State thy name." It says, the voice booming loud. You think for a moment, wondering if you should tell your name or no, but decided to tell your real name anyway.

"Y/n." You simply say, leaving out your last name.

"The shape of thy soul is..unknown."

"Come again?" Crowley asks, tilting his head slightly.

"I sense not a spark of magic in this one." Says the mirror before continuing. "The color, the shape, all nothing, therefore, there are no dorms suited for them.

It was silent for what seemed like an eternity, then came the waves of whispers amongst the students, confusion apparent on their faces and voices.

You definitely don't remember the mirror's words hurting this much, nor the feeling of anxiety and fear rushing through you as you notice all eyes are on you.

"The ebony carriage has never picked up a magicless student." Crowley finally speaks, "Since a hundred years, there was never a problem in the student selection..so why now?!" His words do nothing to soothe your anxious state.

At that, Grim breaks free from the headmaster's hold, ripping the rope apart and smirking mischievously. "Then I'll take their place!" he says.

"Stay right there raccoon!" yells the headmaster, yet his words does not effect the wild beast, whose flames seem to grow bigger at every second.

"Unlike that magicless human– I can actually do magic! Let me in the school now! I'll prove it to ya!" Grim says confidently, taking a deep breath in.

Riddle, alarmed, immediately yells to the other students. "Get down, quick!"

"Nnnah!!!" Grim exhales, fire comes out of his mouth, catching the venue on fire. You quickly move out of the way, grabbing a careless student along with you.

"Phew, that was close.. Thanks!" The student says, his voices catches you off guard.

'Is that-' You don't have much time to think as Grim continues to burn down the school.

The headmaster yells out for someone to catch that beast, while two students have a light banter, another set of students go out to catch the running Grim.

'Oh gee, this is gonna take a while.' You sigh.

𓆩♡𓆪

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Yells the red head, with his words came a heart shaped collar around the silly beast.

"NYGAAH! What's with this collar!?" Said beast yells, his blue eyes widening as he looks down at the collar.

"Laws of the Queen of Hearts: Number 23 "One shall never bring a cat to a festival." You being a cat breaks the rules, I shall escort you out at once." Riddle says.

"I'm not a cat! I'll burn this collar and.." Grim's confusion grows as he realizes he is unable to use his magic. "Huh?! Why can't I use my magic?!"

Riddle huffs, "You won't be using any magic until I remove the collar, you'll be just like an ordinary house cat." He mocked.

"What?! I'm not some pet!" The beast yells, his scowl growing wider.

Riddle smirks as he picks up Grim. "Don't worry, I'd never keep a cat like you." He sneers, "I'll take it off once you're thrown out." His words don't reassure the beast.

Azul begins to speak up. "Wow, as wonderful as ever. Any and all magic get's sealed by your unique magic, Riddle." He gives an unneeded explanation towards no one in particular.

"I must simply have..Ahem! I mean, I wouldn't have that cast on me." He finishes.

Back to you, the Headmaster walks up to you. "You must do something about this! this is your familiar afterall! you must discipli-"

You quickly cut him off. "He's not mine." You say, furrowing your brows slightly.

"Eh? It's not yours?" Crowley asks, takened back.

"Nope, never seen him." You simply say, lying through your teeth. 'Technically not in person..'

"You haven't?" He coughs. "Anyway, let's get it out the school at any rate. I won't turn you into stew, for I am gracious! Someone, help please." You don't wanna know what he meant by turning Grim into stew.

"Gyaaa! Let me go! I'm going.. I'm going to become the best mage!" His cries do not phase the students and headmaster as he gets thrown out, though it does shake your heart slightly.

'Oh well, he'll come back anyway.' You think, cheering yourself up.

Soon, at the headmaster's command, all the students follow their respective dormleaders to their dorm.

"Then, Y/n." Crowley turns to you, "I'm terribly sorry about this but, we must have you leave the school." He says.

"Those without any magic cannot be allowed to attend here." He explains, "Not to worry– the dark mirror will send you to where you've come from." He reassures.

"Just enter the gate and imagine your home clearly." He instructs and you do so.

"Oh, dark mirror! Guide this one back to the place where they belong!" The headmaster commands, and was responded with silence.

He tilts his head before trying again. "Once more. Oh dark mirror! guide thi-"

"It is nowhere." Says the dark mirror nonchalant, a smile tugs at your lips, yet you refrain from making any odd faces.

"Eh?" The headmaster seems confused.

The dark mirror begins to explain. "The place they belong is nowhere in this world..it does not exist."

"What did you say?! That is unbelievable!" Crowley shouts, before calming down. "Well, the unbelievable seems to be the theme today.."

The dark mirror just stays silent.

The headmaster turns to you. "This is the first time this happened since I've become the headmaster, where exactly do you come from?" He asks.

You answer him, telling him your hometown.

"I've never heard of this place. I have a general understanding of where all the students came from, but I've never even heard of that name." Crowley says. "Let's go do some research in the library. He suggests.

You follow after him out the venue, and to the library you go.

𓆩♡𓆪

Just as suspected, there was nothing in the library that even mentioned your hometown.

"Are you truly from where you say? You aren't hiding the truth, are you?" You just shake your head no.

"Looking at all this, you may have somehow been brought here from another planet..or another world." He suggests, you've already figured that out long ago.

"Do you have anything that can verify your identity? a drivers license or even a slipper?" Crowley asks, you rummage through your pockets.

"Nope, nothing on me." You answer, a bit disappointed. You could've checked your phone and told your friend everything that happened whether they believe it or not, or reread the story to prepare for whatever happens.

Well, you doubt the reception here will work, and you're pretty sure you've got every little detail of the story memorized in your head.

"This is concerning, I can't just let a magicless person stay at my school. However, as an educator. I can't toss a penniless teenager who has no means of contacting their guardians out on the street." He stays silent for a bit before smiling and saying his catchphrase. "For I am so gracious!"

Crowley thinks for a moment before speaking up again. "I know! There is an unused building on campus. It was once a dormitory in the past, if you can clean in up, you should be able to at least sleep there." He suggests, you get excited again. You can to live in the rusty, old, rat filled, dusty, disgusting, moldy, broken ramshackle dorm?! in your favorite novel?! amazing!

"For the time being, I shall allow you to stay there!" The headmaster interrupts your train of thoughts, "Then I will look for a way to return you home."

He rambles on for a bit on how gracious and amazing he is before leading you to the dirty dorm.

And there it is, the ramshackle dorm in all it's glory. You really hope this isn't some vivid dream.

"What a glorious place!" You say, with a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

"Right right, please come inside." The headmaster says, not picking up on your tone of voice and leads you inside.

The inside is worse, with speckles of dust flying everywhere, torn couches, and dirty floors. But you love it anyway.

"Staying here will at least keep you out of the rain." Crowley states. "I'm going to do more research, make yourself at home and please do not wander around the campus!" He warns before leaving you in the dark dorm.

You sigh, looking around the place. The game and novel doesn't show it, but the dust really does look like snow.

You walk to the window, gently pressing the palm of your hand against the glass.

Peeping through the stained glass, you see rain coming down, it's drops hit the ground with a splash you can hear through the barrier, and the wind howls loudly through the night.

You can see the campus nearby, and the lanterns glowing, lightening the cold and dark paths of ramshackle to the campus.

You feel the cool breeze come through the cracks of the walls, making you shiver slightly. "Why was I excited about this.." You mutter quietly.

It felt a little lonely as you sat down on the couch, still watching the rain. But the loud screech of a familiar beast was there to keep you company.

"Hyiii!! It's really coming down!" You turn, almost breaking your neck with how fast you snapped your head. Eyes widened as you look at the raccoon like beast.

"Gyahahaha! You shoud see the stupid look on your face!" Grim laughs, "It's like a bat being attacked by a water gun!" He snickers through his comparison.

"Sneaking back into the school again is easy-peasy for me, no sweat!" Grim brags. "If you think getting kicked out is gonna make me give up on getting in, you've got another thing coming!"

You stay quiet for a bit, sitting back down in the couch in a more comfortable position, bring your knees to your chest and allowing your head to rest on them. "Why do you wanna be in this school so badly?" You ask.

"That's simple!" Grim huffs as he begins to explain, "I'm a genius who is destined to become a great wizard! I've been waiting for the ebony carriage to pick me up..but.." The mood turns bitter and somber as Grim looks down in disappointment.

"But..hmph! the dark mirror has no eye for talent. So that's why I came here myself!" He speaks again, his moment of weakness quickly replaced by his cheerfull and haughty act.

"Not letting me in would be a loss for the world. Humans just don't get it." As Grim finishes his explanation, a rain drops through the cracks of the ceiling an onto his ears, making him flinch and screech.

"Nyaa! So cold! The ceiling is leaking!" He shivers, more water drips down again. "Fgyaaa! it keeps coming! my signature fire ears are gonna go out at this rate!"

You look at the ceiling calmly, and get up from your position. "I'm gonna look for buckets." You state.

Grim looks at you confusingly. "Why not use magic?" He asks curiously, before his eyes widen in realization and smirking smugly. "Oh! that's right, you can't use magic~" He taunts, laughing.

You just scoff at his weak attempt to piss you off and leave the room.

Walking through the foyer, you shiver slightly from the cold. Your socks dirty from the dusty floor and almost slip at one point from the small puddle caused by the leak.

The dark and broken halls of ramshackle makes you quiver, your heart quickens as you hear a noise. Before you can take another step, white cartoony figures appear before you.

"Hihihi..hihihi.." Their chuckles echoe loudly, you widen your eyes in surprise and fear.

"We haven't had a guest in such a long time.. I'm itching for some actiong! hihihihi....."

You calm as you realize who they are, the three ghosts of ramshackle! They were creepy at first, but you warmed up to them as the game and novel progressed.

You do have to fight them though, that's a shame. But it was easy in the game so..

'Oh..'

You don't know how to fight in real life..

'Oh crap.'

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst grim #twst mc #twst yuu #twst reader insert #twst crowley #twst riddle #twst azul #twst kalim #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim

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paradoxcase · 10 months

Text

Chapter 28 of Gideon the Ninth

I am disappointed by Mayonnaise Uncle's revelation. The most interesting new piece of information is that the shuttle exploded, but he doesn't have anything actually verifiable about what happened to all the children, he just has ideas about ominous possibilities, which really, I think we already had. But thank you Gideon, for finally sharing what you at least thought happened to all the children, 275 pages after we learned they all died. There still seems to be as yet unshared information about why no other children have been born since Harrow, though, how many more pages are we going to have to wait for that? There are barely more than 100 left in the book

My guess is that Harrow blew the shuttle up specifically so that they couldn't take this news to other Houses, and this wasn't like, a plot to kill Gideon or something like that. But if she just didn't want that news leaving Pluto, she could have just let Ortus and Glaurica stay on the Ninth, there wasn't really any reason to kill them. She could have gotten rid of the shuttle to foil Gideon's escape some other way, I'm sure

I am sort of curious about how the Eighth got ahold of Glauria's body or ghost to necromance this information out of her if she exploded in space

Colum is a better and more independent person than I expected. Good for him.

I note that Mayonnaise Uncle originally promised Gideon that he was going to help her "become more than the lock on your own collar" and then really did no such thing, and had nothing to offer other than "the Ninth House probably killed 200 children but I don't actually have proof". Even if that was provably true, he didn't give Gideon any actual way to separate herself from the Ninth House. I'm honestly not sure what he expected out of this, unless it was just specifically a trap to try to take her key, and based on the fact that Colum at least wasn't aware that he was going to try to do that, I'm really not sure what the point of this meeting was supposed to be

Mayonnaise Uncle seems to think that becoming a Lyctor is itself heretical, which is odd, considering that he seems very religious and we have in this book a bunch of priests who seem very keen on one or more of the candidates becoming Lyctors. I'm guessing that the religion as practiced on the Eighth might be more different from the standard religion than Mayonnaise Uncle believes

What I'm getting from the argument between Mayonnaise Uncle and Colum is that on the Eighth they are doing some weird eugenics program to breed perfectly compatible necromancer/cavalier pairs to optimize the soul siphoning process, which probably explains why Colum is like way older than Mayonnaise Uncle despite being his nephew

I hope Colum doesn't wind up being the person to kill Gideon, because that would be Unsatisfying, and also I'd like to see Colum kick Mayonnaise Uncle to the curb now

Belated note from Chapter 27:

This seems to check out pretty well if the Sixth is Mercury, there are actually spots on Mercury in various craters near the poles that never see daylight, also, apparently Mercury has a day/night cycle that is longer than its year, which must do interesting things to whole idea of seasons, but I don't feel like mathing it all out right now. And Mercury actually has huge variations in temperature, due to not having any atmosphere to retain any heat

I can't decide where on the sliding scale of sci-fi hardness the actual sci-fi in this book falls, because it is definitely harder than the kind of sci-fi where they're like, yeah, we just terraformed all the planets and they're all just like Earth now modulo a bunch of sci-fi generators that modify the atmosphere and temperature and so forth, but at the same time it's softer than the ones that say, we can't actually go faster than the speed of light, so it takes literal generations to get anywhere and we all have to go into cryosleep for hundreds of years. And I feel like introducing somewhat magical terraforming is generally more acceptable at harder levels of sci-fi than introducing FTL travel, if that makes sense

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth

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viking-chaos · 10 months

Text

Of Irland, Chapter 23

Chapter 1 \\ Chapter 22 \\ Series Masterlist

Instead of being taken captive in Winchester, Stiorra leaves for Irland with a friend of her father’s. There she meets Sigtryggr, a Dane, the grandson of Ivar the Boneless.

Chapter 23: Will You Find Me?

Chapter Warnings: Language, threat, aftermath of smut (no actual smut), mentions of dead bodies Words: 2846 AO3

Stiorra stirred. She didn’t want to wake. She’d been having the most wonderful dream. In her dream, Sigtryggr kissed her, and brought her to his room and…

He told her he loved her.

But there was no world in which it could be true. Was there?

Stiorra snapped her eyes open. She was warm, which she hadn’t been for some weeks since the snow fell, and ice paved the streets. Something shifted underneath.

Oh.

So, it had not been a dream. It had been quite real.

Wait.

Did this mean…

It was at this moment she realised he was awake. His hand was trailing up and down her bare back, tracing the ink that decorated the skin. He had helped her apply the healing salve in that room.

It had not been a dream. It was true.

He was there, and he was with her.

She raised her head to gaze at him, and he smiled once he saw she was awake. His left hand dropped to her lower back, making her shiver. He right reached up to cup her cheek, stroking it. She sighed, leaning into the touch.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Stiorra shifted, laying both palms on his muscled chest.

“A little sore,” she answered, truthfully. “I thought for a moment that last night was all a dream.”

He chuckled, the movement bouncing her a little. “It was no dream. I love you, Stiorra Uhtredsdottir.”

She giggled at his formality. “And I love you, Sigtryggr Ivarrsson.”

She dropped her head and pressed a kiss to his chiselled abdomen. She felt the muscles clenching as he reached down and pulled her up to him, finally allowing him to kiss her.

His lips were gentle, there was no need to rush, not now they had all the time for this. His hand stayed where it was at the base of her spine, the one on her check stroking the soft skin. Her hands crept up his bare chest, wrapping around his neck.

He shifted, rolling them both over so she was on her back. His kisses grew hungry.

A flash of pain came from between her legs, and she stilled. He pulled away,

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Sore.”

He nodded, smiling. He understood. He rolled off her and wrapped his arms around her instead.

“This is good?” he asked.

“This is good.”

And it was good. It was safe and warm and…

A loud bang interrupted the peaceful bliss that had settled over them.

“Get up, you lazy shit!” Ivar shouted from the other side of the door. “Lunch!”

Sigtryggr groaned. Ivar banged on the door again.

“Get up, you lazy stinking piece of fuck shit! Get up!”

If it had been aimed at anyone else, Stiorra might have laughed at Ivar’s misuse of curse words. But it was not someone else.

“Get your cock out of whatever whore you have warming your bed!”

Sigtryggr lost his temper. He bolted upright, pulled a knife from under his pillow and threw it at the door, all while yelling, “FUCK OFF, IVAR!”

Ivar chuckled as he stomped off.

Stiorra pulled the sheets up. Sigtryggr glanced at her frightened expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” she assured. “Ivar frightens me. What will he do if he finds out about us?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, throwing the blanket off. “Most likely try to kill me.”

He said it so nonchalantly that Stiorra was thrown off. “What?”

He shrugged, pulling his breeches on. “He always wants to kill me. He just needs an excuse.”

Three light raps on the door had both their heads spinning to the origin.

“Siggy?” came a small voice from outside. “Are you coming? Ivar is being scary.”

“In a moment, Gudrid.” He turned back to Stiorra. “Are you coming?”

“I would, but I have no clothes,” she said slyly.

She watched the muscles in his abdomen clench as he bent over a box on the floor. From it, he pulled another dress.

“I don’t know what you mean by having no clothes,” he said grinning.

Stiorra gasped. “How many of these do you have?”

He chuckled. “Enough to dress you now.”

He laid the dress gently on his side of the bed, and came over to her, helping her up from the bed. She let the blankets fall, letting his gaze rake over her naked form. He moved behind her, brushing her hair away from her neck, kissing the soft skin there. Stiorra sighed, leaning back into his embrace.

Another quiet knock interrupted them.

“Siggy, are you coming?”

________________________________________

There was a small steaming cup at Stiorra’s place when she sat down. She sniffed it and wrinkled her nose. It was the same potion Drifa used “to end a life before it begins” she’d said.

She hesitated in drinking it, feeling a strange yearning to leave it up to the gods, to have a child with Sigtryggr. But then her thoughts turned to her mother, screaming and bleeding, and to the hard-faced nuns who’d dragged her away, and suddenly she wondered why she’d even hesitated.

She drank, and gagged, almost spitting it out. It was vile. How any woman drank it…

Stiorra coughed and spluttered. Sigtryggr glanced her way in concern, his eyes becoming downcast as he observed what she consumed. He turned his attention back to his brother, who smirked and guzzled his morning ale.

“When will the next ship arrive, Drifa?” Sigtryggr asked. Good. A distraction.

Drifa was sitting slouched rubbing her temples. “Day after tomorrow,” she mumbled, her mouth still full of food. “And perhaps they’ll have news as to the other ship,” she continued, having swallowed.

“The day after…” Ivar was incredulous. “Why? They usually come tomorrow. We need to reopen the markets.”

“We don’t need Drifa’s ships to open the market, Ivar,” Rognvaldr grumbled. He lifted his head from the table, his eyes looked red and there were dark shadows under them. Everyone stared at him.

“What?” he said incredulously. “It doesn’t take someone with Sigtryggr or Drifa’s brains to know that the market isn’t dependent on her ships.”

He wasn’t wrong either. There were other merchants and other ships. Drifa just happened to own many.

“Where does the boat come from?” Stiorra asked.

“Lunden, then some ports on the coast of Frankia before coming here,” Drifa answered before taking a giant gulp of whatever it was in her cup. It was not ale. “The reason it is later is because I asked them to make a stop in Coccham.”

“For what?” Ivar snapped.

“None of your business is what.”

“You are my guest and I demand to know what your ship is sailing to Coccham for!!!”

“You do not need to know what I need from Coccham!”

Sigtryggr leaned over to her as the shouting increased in volume. “Come. Let’s go for a walk. It will be quiet.”

“I am king here and I demand to know what you need from Coccham that you can’t get here! Are you perhaps asking your friend the Dane-Slayer to come here and slay me?”

Stiorra giggled and stood. Ivar ignored them, too busy arguing with Drifa to realise.

(“You are not the king here! And my friendship with Uhtred is none of your concern!”)

They picked up their cloaks from where they had been by the doors and slipped out into the cold snowy streets.

Snow was still falling, but only gently. There were icy patches everywhere.

Stiorra had never seen Dyflin so quiet and peaceful. So quiet it was almost eerie, like the city had been abandoned. The buildings were topped in thick layers of snow, so thick they looked like fluffy pillows. The streets were covered in hard compacted snow, trampled from the celebrations the previous night.

She took hold of Sigtryggr’s arm (if she went down, he went with her) and they began to walk.

“I meant what I said,'' he started. “I didn't mean to frighten you. Sometimes, Ivar’s insults become too much.”

“It’s alright. You have every right to lose your temper” she reassured. “If that was my brother, though, I would have beat him.”

He laughed, his voice deep and rich.

They walked in silence for a while. Stiorra admired the icicles hanging off the buildings, but she stayed far away, admiring from a distance. Her father had once told her about how he’d seen one split a man in half. And she would rather see him again in one piece.

While they walked, she thought about how to broach a particularly difficult subject, one that they probably should have discussed before he lay with her. And she couldn’t deny that it had been wonderful, now the whole thing might be marred by one topic of conversation.

“Sigtryggr,” she hesitated, “You… pulled a face earlier.” He glanced at her in confusion. “During breakfast…”

“Oh. I…”

Should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut. Now I’ve ruined the moment.

“I don’t… I don’t remember pulling a face.”

“You saw what I drank.”

“I did.”

“And you pulled a face.”

He sighed, evidently giving up.

“It was just that we never spoke about it,” he said, “having children.”

“You’re right. I was just thinking we should’ve.”

An awkward silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“I do want them,” he sighed, “but if you don’t…”

This conversation is getting nowhere.

“You know how… how my mother died,” she mumbled. “She died giving birth to my little brother.”

“Is this the one you threatened to beat?” he smiled, trying to ease the awkwardness of their conversation.

“No, this is one I haven’t seen since he was born,” she explained. “I was very young when she died. To me, it always seemed like she was with child, and then suddenly, nine months later, she vanished, with no real explanation.”

He nodded, understanding. “It’s how my mother died as well, giving birth to Rognvaldr.”

“So, you understand what it was like.”

“And you don’t want to go through the same thing.”

She nodded.

“Stiorra,” he said, “I will not deny that I want children. But I don’t need to have them now. I can wait.”

He stopped, lifting her face to meet his. “I will wait as long as I have to.”

He kissed her then, softly, a brief fleeting brush of lips before he dropped his fingers from her chin.

“And besides, I cannot have children until I have left Irland and made a name for myself elsewhere.”

“Because of Ivar,” she guessed.

“Exactly.” He resumed walking, looping her arm in his. “If I have any children, Ivar will see them as a threat to his rule. That’s why he is constantly trying to have them himself. But he is cruel and often beats his wives. Sometimes hard enough to kill them.”

From the sound of his voice, Stiorra could tell he’d had a front row seat to Ivar’s cruelty. She suspected he was still shielding her from the worst of it.

A loud crash disturbed them both from the peace of Dyflin. They rounded a corner to find six people, men and women, around the remains of the Yol fire. The fire itself had long since extinguished, leaving behind a tall stack of burnt wood in its place.

Three charred piles lay beside them.

“What’s going on?” Sigtryggr inquired.

“How many?” came an all too familiar voice from behind them.

“Three,” one of the men said.

Drifa cursed in some foreign language. A glance at Sigtryggr, who shrugged, told her it was not Irish.

“I tell him to put barriers up and he doesn’t listen,” she muttered, mostly to herself.”

She looked back at the two. “Every year, there are always bodies found in the Yol fire. Someone who was drunk and fell. I tell Ivar to put a barrier around it or at least put it on a platform, but he doesn’t listen. In Fjall, it is written into the law that any bonfire’s must either have a barrier around them or must be built on a platform to keep it away from foolish drunks who fall in. Now the only deaths this time of year come from colds and icicles.”

“Fjall seems like a sensible place.”

“Because it is ruled by some who actually care about the people.”

“Ivar thinks that being a ruler means he can do whatever he wants, consequences aside,” Sigtryggr explained.

“You know what we think of him?” Drifa yelled. “We think he's a fat blob of…”

“That’s enough,” Asvard grumbled, ambling into the square. He looked terrible. He had a black eye, and bruises over his hands.

“What happened to you?”

“What do you think happened?”

She shook her head at him.

“You know I have rules,” she shouted. “If you two lovebirds are going to stand there you can be useful.”

“How can we be of assistance to Jarl Drifa?” Sigtryggr asked, grinning.

“You can babysit the children,” she instructed. “The river froze over.”

Sigtryggr nodded. “Shall we?”

Stiorra looped her arm through his and then headed away.

The gates were covered in many icicles. Luckily none were falling on any heads today.

It was not hard to find the children, with their screams and shouts as they played in the snow, or used bones attached to their shoes to skate across the ice.

“So, she just wants us to watch them?” Stiorra asked.

Sigtryggr laughed. “We have to make sure the ice does not break, and they don’t fall in.”

Stiorra stared at him in shock. He makes all his speeches about how cruel Ivar is and laughs about children possibly drowning!

“It is very unlikely,” he added hastily. “The ice is usually very thick.”

“When was the last time it happened?”

“The last time someone died was five years ago. That is why we are here.”

It made more sense now. And I should not be so quick to judge, she thought.

“Do you want to join?” he offered, holding out more pieces of the bone used to skate.

“I would love to.”

He helped her attach the bone-skates, tying them to her shoes with leather tongs. He tied on his own, while she struggled to walk twice on them, until she fell right into a snow pile, face first. The first thing she did was laugh. Then she lifted her to find him lying on the snow beside her, clutching his belly in hysterics. Arseling.

Suddenly, he was hit with a small white ball which exploded on his face.

“You are mean, Siggy.”

And now, watching his hair drip with snow, Stiorra giggled.

“I will get you, little girl,” Sigtryggr growled menacingly, before pouncing and bringing his sister down into the snow pile and tickling her relentlessly.

His being distracted allowed Stiorra to struggle back to her feet and jump on him, pushing him off Gudrid.

The three of them collapsed in a pile, panting and laughing.

All of a sudden there was a scream. Sigtryggr lifted his head high enough to see that one of the younger children had fallen onto their bottom and was just drifting across the ice.

“I suppose that’s something we were supposed to look out for,” Stiorra commented.

____________________________________________________________

That afternoon was spent skating over the ice, and supervising children, hugging when they fell. The ice did not crack, which Sigtryggr said was a first.

Stiorra had skated a few times in her childhood back in Coccham when the river just outside the walls froze over, but it had been a long time. Sigtryggr held her hand and guided her.

Drifa joined them at some point in the afternoon, grumbling about Ivar and his stupidity. She too put on her own bone skates, and then distracted them all with an impressive display of speed and agility. She leapt and twisted over the ice. It was a sight to behold.

One that ended all too soon.

Eventually, the sun began to set, even though it was only mid-afternoon. But it was time for the children to head inside. The three adults ensured that all the children made it safely to their homes.

Drifa raced Gudrid into the Great Hall, very obviously letting the little girl win. Sigtryggr held out a hand to stop Stiorra.

He tugged her into him and kissed her. Her arms flailed for a moment before settling on his large biceps. One arm held her waist, the other hand cupping her face.

He gently released her, resting his forehead on hers for a few more moments.

“Will you come to me tonight?” he whispered. “Will you find me?”

“Sigtryggr, I…” she sighed. “I am still a little sore, and- “

“I am not asking for that,” he interrupted. “I just want to hold you, to feel you in my arms. Just because I invite you to my bed, does not mean I always must hump,” he smiled.

“Are you coming, shit-brother?” Ivar called from inside.

Sigtryggr laughed. “Well?”

Stiorra smiled, so full of love for him. “I will come.”

#the last kingdom #sigtryggr #stiorra #tlk fic #sigtryggr imagine #sigtryggr the last kingdom #sigtryggr TLK #sigtryggr ivarsson #TLK #sigtryggr fan fiction #sigtryggr fanfiction #sigtryggr fanfic #sigtryggr fan fic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #stiorra the last kingdom #the last kingdom fic

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kakairu-rocks · 1 year

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We are excited to introduce our next shining star for the Creator Spotlight... My_Private_Tsukuyomi!

This is an activity where we reach out to one of the talented people in our community each month to find out all about them and their kakairu creations, and then show them off to the world!

We hope you enjoy learning about My_Private_Tsukuyomi & her creations as much as we did. Please give her some love ❤️

Pronouns: She/Her

Type of Creator: Writer

Where to find her:

AO3

Discord: My Private Tsukuyomi

Read the exciting interview below the cut, or on the forum!

If you would like a chance to be in the spotlight too, the only thing you have to do is be a member of the kakairu rocks forum or follow us, and be a kakairu creator; and we will contact you, ourselves!

1. How long have you been creating KakaIru fanworks?

Since January 2023

2. What are you working on right now?

I’m working on a Modern Day AU KakaIru Sugar daddy/baby fic with a twist. Iruka is the high-powered CEO type with a huge philanthropic streak but is trying to battle a hostile takeover that includes a marriage/business merger. Kakashi is a disgraced, down on his luck veteran. Kakashi needs a job and Iruka needs someone on his arm in public to stave off the marriage pressure but also someone capable of protecting him at events. But what neither expected is that the lines between the job and real feelings would get blurred so quickly!

3. What is your favourite trope to create for?

Angst with a happy ending seems to be my specialty. Kakashi and Iruka suffer a little, but that just makes the final resolution all that much sweeter.

4. Which of your creations is your favourite, and why?

Right now I’d have to say one of my latest creations, The Road of Life. It uses scrapbooking as an opportunity for Iruka to travel down memory lane to look at a life well-lived and well-loved with Kakashi. I tagged it MCD but it isn’t permanent - I could never permanently separate these two!

5. Do you have any WIPs you’re excited about?

Surprisingly enough I’ve only got the one WIP right now, which I described above. I have some half-formed ideas, but I haven’t started anything else yet. I think I’m waiting to see what the next theme will be on the kakairu discord server. I love meeting those monthly challenges!

6. Do you have any original characters? If so, tell us about them!

My first fic featured an OC female ANBU badass named Minako. I created her before I turned to writing KakaIru, realizing how perfect Kakashi and Iruka are together - they are canon, just mostly off screen. But yet they connect enough on screen to convince me that they are meant to be.

7. What was your hardest piece to create, and why?

I think I’m having the most trouble with my WIP because it’s completely different from anything else I’ve written. Plus I want it to be a bigger, multi-chapter thing with real world-building. That’s always a challenge.

8. Do you have any favorite scenes from something you’ve created?

I do! One of my favorite scenes is from my first KakaIru fic Of Romance and Holidays. Kakashi takes a candy conversation heart that says ‘be mine’ and carves a little question mark and the letter K into it before leaving it for Iruka to find.

My other favorite scene is from The Road of Life, when Iruka and Kakashi meet for the first time after the Pain attack. Iruka tries to tell Kakashi he wasn’t worth Kakashi’s sacrifice, that he’s nothing. Kakashi interrupts and tells Iruka that he is, in fact, everything.

9. Where does your inspiration come from?

My inspiration comes from many places. I often dream in KakaIru, so sometimes those dreams become fics. I also draw inspiration from songs. Three of my fics are based on song lyrics. Finally, I draw inspiration from the wonderful folks on the KakaIru discord server Forbidden Scrolls of KakaIru. The prompts and challenges posted there are phenomenal.

10. Which of your creations is the most meaningful to you, and why?

I don’t think I could choose just one. All of my creations are a piece of me. It’s both delightful and terrifying to share that piece in my fics, and it is humbling that people actually read and enjoy them. Thank you to all of my readers. You, like Iruka to Kakashi, are everything.

#Creator Spotlight #kakairu.rocks #creator interview #talented creator #kakairu fanfic #kakairu #kkir #kakashi x iruka #hatake kakashi #umino iruka

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toobusybeingdead · 5 months

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TF2 Engineer x Reader Part 1

Summary: The Red team of Teufort was used to having only nine members. Who knew that adding a tenth merc would eventually change everything or that they would have a closer connection to the rest of the team than they all knew?

Chapters: Part One Part two Part three

The team was gathered in the recreation room, lounging around, doing their own individual thing. It was the first ceasefire day in a while and the fort was under no immediate threat as far as they knew. Medic was reading some new medical journals, Spy was impersonating people on the opposing team while Pyro and Scout were watching him, Demo was sprawled out napping in an armchair, Heavy was enjoying a sandwich, Soldier was playing with Lieutenant Bites, Sniper was trying to get his scopes back into focus, and Engineer was sitting on the couch looking at a photo.

Medic looked up from his journal and saw the Texan’s sad face and became concerned. “Are you okay, Dell?” He asked, causing the rest of the team to look up at their teammate.

Dell sighed. “Yeah, just thinkin’ ‘bout my lady back home.” He smirked as he looked back at the photo. “I haven’t seen her in so long, I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t recognise me when they let us go home.” The team began to crowd around Dell to get a peek at his love. The photo he had was worn from being in his hat all of the time but the picture was still clear. He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck as a woman held him in her arms and kissed his cheek.

Scout squinted at the photo. “That kind of looks like…” He trailed off before snatching it to get a closer look. “It is!” He yelled. “You're dating my little sister?” His face went red as he tried to lunge at Dell, Misha held the young man back. “No! Let me kick his ass!”

Dell sighed and took the photo back. “Cool your britches, son, I didn’t know you even had a sister. All you ever talk about is your seven brothers.” He placed the photo back in his hat. “Besides, she’s the one who asked me on the first date.”

Jeremy tried to wiggle out of the Russian’s grip. “Well you can’t date her anymore! She’s never allowed to date, ever! She’s just a kid and you’re too old for her!”

The Texan rubbed his temples. “She's twenty three, Jeremy, I know I’m forty three and that's quite a large difference but we're both adults.” He finished calming his headache.

The sound of floorboards cheeked causing the team to look at the doorway and freeze. The team’s Herbalist was standing there with a potted plant in their hands. Originally they all feared Pyro but when the Herbalist was introduced, they stole the spotlight. With their plague doctor-esq uniform and mask paired with their silence, the team didn’t know if they were in a horror movie or not. They looked at Dell and mumbled something before placing the plant on a windowsill. They mumbled something again but no one was able to hear a single word they said.

Before anyone could say something the sirens started to roar, alerting that there was an intruder near the base and the team ran for their gear before running outside to defend Teufort. Dell ran to a platform with a decent vantage point over the enemy team and began to build a sentry. He reached into his toolbox for his wrench but ended up grabbing a piece of paper. “What in the tarnation is this?” He asked himself before reading it. “We said no secrets between us but you can clearly see that I wasn’t completely open about everything. You met one of my brothers and have seven more to see, but the main thing you don’t know about is my profession. Meet me under the platform leading to the intel room.” He stared at the note in disbelief. “Y/n?” He whispered.

While Dell was preoccupied with the note the Herbalist was watching him from an adjacent platform and saw the enemy spy sneaking up on the engineer. They tried to get over to him as quickly as they could but it was too late, the spy slit his neck and ran away.

The herbalist finally made it over to Dell and placed a cloth over his neck before pouring a strange liquid over it. Their heart was racing and their mask began to suffocate them. They tore the leather mask off and took a few deep breaths before looking down at Dell who stared at them in awe. They smiled and placed their hand on his cheek. “Hi, Dell. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Dell couldn’t believe his eyes, it was her! It was y/n! The person he’s been scared of for the past year and a half was his girlfriend! “Y/n…” He smiled and leaned into her hand. “I missed you.”

Y/n smiled and kissed her boyfriend. “I know but you can’t talk right now, you need to save every bit of energy you have.” She reached into her bag and grabbed another bottle. “I’m sorry I have to do this but you can’t be using any strength you have left.” Before Dell could question her she placed the bottle to his lips and forced him to drink the liquid. “I’ll explain everything when I come back.” She placed her mask back on her face and began dragging Dell into the fort. A siren went off, congratulating the team for successfully defending their home. She dragged her boyfriend to the medbay where the rest of the team was waiting for their injuries to be healed.

“What the hell happened to him?” Ludwig shouted as he rushed over to help get Dell onto a bed.

Y/n said nothing as she left. When someone tried to question her again she looked at them with the dark voids her mask had for eyes and kept her silence before finally leaving.

#tf2 engineer #engineer x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #engineer x you #x reader #tf2

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demonicpiano · 7 months

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WIP that List

Finally getting around to being tagged courtesy of @coralcatsea and @fireandiceland for the WIP Game List. Feel free to be peek. This could double as a way to get my word-spew organized. Yes, feel free to talk to me/share ideas about any of these.

Assume it's all USUKUS unless stated otherwise. :]

Free Use AU - Humanverse. Circles around a romantically-based found family trope of the Allies and blanket consent + free use kinks onto Alfred, who is a happy, spoiled pet sub. Currently uploading to AO3 with originally 6 fics planned, but I just recently wrote 2 more. The ideas keep coming.

Tsunyotalia piece - Tsunotalia + Nyotalia. NSFW. After writing Love at First Headbutt I just had a craving for more. May or may not already be written. Just deciding whether to keep it the way it is or stretch it out a little.

TOURNAMENT - Cardverse. One of those pieces that have the Kingdom of Spades competing to be the Queen, as well as winning King Alfred's hand. Fully outlined, writing in progress, but on hold for other projects.

Blindfold - Cardverse. AU of an AU. Idea came to me when I was writing Only a Matter of Time (and Waiting). Since the King of Spades has extremely powerful but cursed time magic in their eyes, they must wear a blindfold. Arthur is a woodworker who has been hired to go to the palace and remodel the King's bedchambers, where they meet and (vague gesturing). Particularly excited to work on it, fully outlined and working on this one right now.

Pirate Cardverse series - Cardverse. PIRATES. Pirate Queen for the Throne of Spades, yes! The series is almost already done. There's definitely one more fic to write, one for nyo!America/nyo!England since I did the other combinations for USUKUS. Not written yet, but planned. I'll have to perish before I don't write it.

✨Might squeeze out another Arthur/Amelia fic, something small and smutty as an epilogue to 'cap' the series.

Vampire Cardverse series - Cardverse. And vampires. Vampire Cardverse. This bastard. This has been in my brain since 2019, and I have so little to show for it. I had a whole giant story/backstories/series to go with it. Rumors are rising in the Kingdom of Spades of vampires, anything to explain inexplicable homicides. Is it really the vampires, or something trying to pin the blame upon the vampires? I got past 20 chapters/100,000 words and I lost the progress I made by doing some stupid overriding save mistake. I still have the outline but have hardly touched it since. Still mourning over it.

ABO Cardverse - ...Cardverse again. Probably typical but too bad—Alfred is an omega but gets the mark/power of the King of Spades. Omega King Alfred, yessir. Outlined, but not yet written.

Skyrim AU - It's Skyrim AU with Canada as the Last Dragonborn. One of the ones with no USUKUS as main focus. Two fics already written, taking place after the main events of the game, but when I continue this series, I plan to go back to the beginning to explore how it all started. Planned, not outlined, not yet written.

Spider-Man AU - SPOOOODER-MAN YES it's all just vibes right now, vibes, vibes, vibes. I have no idea what's gonna happen, no idea where it's going to go BUT ALFRED AND ARTHUR ARE SPIDER-PEOPLE AHHHHHH THWIP THWIP WEB SLINGING KA-POW, KA-POW! Not planned, not outlined, not yet written.

Two RusCan furry fauna bear things - 1) In the city, Matthew works for a sanctuary helping monsters make their way into society and/or out of abusive situations and other harmful situations. One of the people he helps is Ivan, a polar bear guy who is absolutely shut about his past.

2) Matthew is a fisherman who is told not to go through the woods on the outskirts of the village, but circumstances cause him to have to find a new spot, so he risks it and heads through the woods and learns the exact cause of the warnings. Both not outlined, half written.

Everything else is just ideas so far:

-Next part of monsterfucker series, probably going to be a plant-monster/dryad

-Cardverse RUKUS threesome fic

-Nordic 5 Christmas fic that's been in my head for 4 years but haven't gotten to it yet

-Mermaid/Naga USUKUS

---------

Want to play the tag game? Start talking. 🔫 Yeah, @ you. This is your chance to yap about your WIPs, artist, writer, or otherwise!

#THE SIN BIN #hetalia #hws #hetalia fic #hws USUKUS

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seeingteacupsindragons · 1 year

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New to the Jeweler Richard fandom here and been trying to piece together whatever I find of the light novels. Have you been reading them in another language? I'm almost desperate enough to just run it all through google translate.

Also I've been hearing there "3 parts" to the narrative. Would you be able to explain how that works?

So, unfortunately, I did read it mostly in Japanese or through Google Translate. I highly do not recommend this, not only because it's hard to understand and reads terribly, but because frankly there are some things I misunderstood until I discussed them with other fans who could read it better than I could, because Google Translate isn't especially accurate.

That said, the first two novels are out in English already by Seven Seas, and the third might be digitally already (and if not, it'll be in print later this month). So they're slowly coming.

There are bits and pieces of fan translations of things, especially some of the rarer short stories, in the JR Discord server somewhere, I think. I think they're still there, anyway.

As for the three parts: JR is divided into three major "arcs" with some pretty major narrative shifts.

The first six novels cover about the first year (bit more) Seigi works at Etranger, and that covers part one. They're structured almost as short story collections with Themed Naming based on the gemstones. They each have found chapters and an "Extra Case." This is functionally Seigi's Discovery of a New World.

There is then a two year time skip, and when it picks up again, Seigi is living in Sri Lanka and he and Richard only meet up occasionally and do a lot of globe-trotting in this one. They're structured much more like...actual novels, with Richard having short angsty prollogues before it switches back to Seigi, and the rest of the novel is divided roughly into three based on different days things are happening in the story. This is very much Seigi Discovery of Himself and What He Wants. This covers volumes 7-10.

Part Three has only just started, and I don't think it was actually originally planned from the beginning the way the first ten were. As of right now, we only have one volume of it: 11. But there will be more coming. Tsujimura-sensei has confirmed this will be the final part of the series. There has been another time skip and now Seigi and Richard are living in Yokohama, but the stories are actually narrated in third person and focus on a new character: Minoru.

#Jeweler Richard #Housekishou Richard #The Case Files of Jeweler Richard

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amywritesthings · 1 year

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fic writer interview.

found this in the tags while I was browsing & thought it could be a fun way to end 2022! i am not tagging anyone, but if you'd like to fill it out, then feel free to copy + paste it to a new post!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Eleven, soon to be twelve!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

113,915

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Marvel (The Avengers, Moon Knight), Star Wars (The Mandalorian, Andor), The Last of Us, The Bubble, and Stranger Things

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Point A to Point B (493)

Where Shadows Meet Spaces (356)

Meet Me at the Usual (277)

A First for Breathing (226)

Meet Me On the Other Side (118)

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Every single one, no matter how long or how short! Reblogs on tumblr and replies/comments under the posts are literally my life source to keep me going through the day. I try to make sure I don't miss a single response if I can help it.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It isn't finished yet, but I have the finale outlined for Famous Last Words as I only have two more parts to go. (That I intend to finish some day I promise!) Same Old Mistakes will have the angstiest ending out of all of my fics.

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

I do not. I totally could one day, though. Just has to have the right mood.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No! Luckily I am fortunate enough to say that I have been given only constructive criticism to my fics, which is not equivalent to hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I actually really get nervous about writing smut. Like it'll take me eons to write smut chapters versus normal chapters because they're the pieces of writing I'm most self conscious about. (Even if... nearly all of my works constitute as smut-based fics.) I primarily write f/m smut just because... well, it just happens that way? And I write smut for me, so I don't primarily write things that I don't find hot. Because fic-writing it's about self-indulging, baybeeee.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No! Not that I am aware of, anyway. Hopefully not, because stealing fics is lame.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of, no.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I'm actually more well-versed in roleplay writing than I am with fanfics, so I want to say... yes? Because I've written collaborative stories with friends that I've just never published to the public, but it's a long-winded way of say yes and also no.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I don't know if I have one? I write mainly reader insert because I would be writing original character x canon fic, but they don't typically sell well, so I adopted 2nd person writing to get with the times.

In terms of readership, I loved Buffy/Spike from BtVS as a kid, Garrus x Sheppard from Mass Effect 3, Zutara from ATLA, Jack & Elizabeth from POTC, Obidala, Dramione, Reylo... I'm typically a big proponent of enemies to lovers, if that hasn't been obvious yet, lol.

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

I have a Succession fanfiction that is extremely dark and 'dead dove don't eat' territory that I've had sitting in my google docs for over a year now. I think it's some of my best writing, but I know that it's extremely taboo and very much not safe for work, so I struggle with posting it despite how I go back to read it all the time lol. I write a really good Kendall Roy, guys!

15. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I went to school and have a degree in pre-production motion picture and television writing, so screenwriting is my niche little hobby that I wanted to turn into a career and never did. That being said, I think that I can really pick up on dialect of characters and actors very well in order to translate them into original pieces / fanfiction, so I think most of my strengths lie within my verbal writing.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I absolutely loathe writing long paragraphs and descriptors and tend to gloss over when others write very long paragraph writing. My attention span just cannot handle non-quippy and whippy writing, and that goes for myself as well. I'd rather just write the dialogue and the drama going on between interpersonal relationships, and tend to struggle with setting up locations and atmospheres in a broader, descriptive sense vs. abstract.

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

I don't do it because I would have to use Google Translator and that's a total gamble, but I admire those who can and do fluently. I can read Spanish, but I cannot write it. The closest we get is me writing Din speaking in Mando'a and quite honestly I do not know if those translations are even real / up to Wookiepedia code lol.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Y'all are going to lose. your. shit over this.

Jimmy Neutron. I was nine years old. A 12-part story I still say is my best work 😂

19. What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Point A to Point B will likely be my favorite. I have put so much of my heart and soul in that storytelling and world crafting that I'd be remiss to suggest anything else.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fic writer things #long post cw #interview cw

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genogenocrazycatman · 6 months

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Throne Chapter 18

Throne [Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.Net]

Characters: Original Female Character, Red Haired Shanks, Benn Beckman, Lucky Roo, Yasopp,

***

“I can be very disarming.”

“Looks like you’ve been disarmed,” I jabbed, not looking up at him.

Benn let out a loud laugh at that.

Shanks grinned. “You wound me.”

“Clearly, I’m not the only one.”

Hello people. So if you don’t know, what’s going on here then the simple version is that this a Shanks x OC fic.

If you follow me, and the One Piece stuff I write, then you’ve probably heard me talk about this fic. Hey look it’s finally here.

***

Despite it not yet being noon, the heat was already horrid. The sun, not even at its peak, was blinding outside. The air felt almost oppressive, paired with the humidity left over from the storms that had come through the night before.

The store I was currently standing in was stuffy, almost suffocating. The owner had tried his best to mitigate the temperature, with fans running at full speed and windows opened to keep the air flowing.

I shifted my weight from one leg to another, shuffling the three rolls of bandages in my hand as I waited for the clerk to finish his conversation with his current patron, who was checking out quite the haul based on the cart loaded beside him.

"You don't say! You know it's been a while since you boys came around. Glad to hear that-" the clerk noticed me, briefly pausing his conversation. “Apologies, miss. I'll be with you in one moment."

I shook my head, waving off his concerns with the hand not holding my items. "No worries. I can wait a little while longer for the first mate of the Red-Hair pirates to finish up."

Benn turned his head, glancing back at me, standing up from where he had been leaning against the counter in his conversation.

"Morning, Liz," he said, round the cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Morning, Benn."

"Liz, this fine shopkeep is Sota. He's an old friend of ours. Sota, this is Elizabeth, the only person capable of getting the Boss to wake up before noon."

"I've been told my jokes about his sleeping habits are repetitive."

So are Yasopp's stories, but he still tells them."

I huffed out a laugh, making my way closer to the counter to shake Sota's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well," he said. "Welcome to my shop. I hope that you found everything okay. Any friend of the Red-Hair Pirates is a friend of ours."

"Aww, thank you."

"You wanna throw her stuff onto our total?" Benn asked.

"Of course," Sota agreed readily, punching the numbers into the register.

"Captain's dime?" I asked, stuffing the bandages into my bag.

"Always," Benn answered.

"Why’s he got the first mate doing the shopping? Couldn't get one of the rookies to do it?"

Currently, there were four rookies aboard their ship. I’d been introduced to them briefly in passing at the tavern, but I hadn’t had a chance to get to know them or even retain their names.

"And actually get what's on the list?” he scoffed. “No."

"Fair enough. So is any of this for today?" I asked, looking over the pile.

The Red-Hair crew had a spot that they liked to frequent when they were here. There was a waterfall somewhere in the jungle where they could get shitfaced, swim, and hang out. The invite had been extended to me with the promise of a nice lawn chair not too close to the water and – if I was feeling adventurous – shallow plunge pools between some of the falls' steps, no deeper than a foot and a half.

"All of it. You've seen how our idiots act in a bar. Now, imagine them in the jungle."

"Should I be concerned for my safety?" I asked.

"Yours? No. We'd never let anything happen to you. Everyone else? Probably. Unless you plan on trying to drink everyone under the table again. But even then, you can always ch-"

I cut him off. "I. Did. Not. Cheat,” I argued, pointing at him with every word. “You all failed to establish the rules properly."

Benn carefully lifted a brow at me. "Next time, we'll write it out."

Sota laughed at us from his spot behind the counter.

I rolled my eyes and hip-checked Benn. "You done shopping, or do you have other stops to make?"

"Two more to go."

"Want some company?" I asked.

We weren’t supposed to leave for another couple of hours, and aside from change, I didn’t have anything to do, so I figured I might as well make myself useful.

I had gone through and packed my stuff up the night before. The plan was to hang out today, but I had also been warned that, typically, no one was sober enough to come back until the following day.

"Of course,” he agreed easily. “It’ll be nice to have someone competent come along for once."

"You're so mean."

"Liz, I'm tired."

"Can't blame you there."

"You boys are quite a handful," Sota agreed. "But it helps to liven the place up."

"I had that same thought the first time I met them.”

Sota prattled off a total, which Benn paid while promising to meet for a drink before they set sail again.

"Where to next?" I asked as we stepped into the sun. I slid my sunglasses down from where they were perched on my head.

"A few things for dinner, and then Hongo asked that we pick something up from the apothecary."

Easy enough.

"What's with all the bandages?" he asked.

"So I can wrap my thigh and wear shorts in public. It's too fucking hot."

The one downside to being out in the larger world was that I had to try to hide my tattoo. I usually wore jeans, but when I wanted to switch it up, I either had to wrap it in bandages or find something with a skirt long enough to cover it.

"You're going to send the Boss into a coma," he said.

Rather than acknowledge the statement, I opted to ask a question that had been on my mind for a while. “Uh huh, sure. So, how have things been since Aurora?" I asked. "The captain's an emperor now. High stakes."

"You would know something about that, wouldn't you, princess?"

I scrunched up my face before cutting my eyes sideways towards Benn behind my shades. "Don't call me that… like ever."

Benn laughed. "Just saying. Your old man's been up there for years. I'm sure your brothers have told you what it's like."

"Depends on the brother, but yes.”

Accounts of what life on the Moby Dick was like varied wildly from brother to brother.

Most of the boys liked to embellish to a ridiculous degree or undersell everything going on to “spare” my feelings. I trusted Marco and Thatch’s accounts more so than everyone else’s. Marco would give me much of the larger context of being a Yonko crew. Thatch would provide me with more day-to-day and familial aspects.

The one thing consistent across the board is that none of them would change a thing if given a chance.

“I know Shanks isn't dumb, but politics is something else."

Other Yonko crews, subordinates, warlords, the World Government, it was a lot to try to balance.

"Politics that he's surprisingly well suited to navigating. Turns out that easygoing nature of his helps in some of those rather tense situations. If only it were as helpful when it came to chores. Any reason you're asking me instead of him?"

"Because he'll just shoot me that smug ass grin and talk about how his charm and charisma get him far in life."

"I see. And you'll want to argue for a serious answer but will be far too caught up in that wit and charm."

I chewed the inside of my mouth, unable to argue. He was right. I preferred it when he was busting the captain’s chops instead of mine.

Benn didn’t even try to hide the teasing smile playing on his lips. "Don't try to act tough now. You're not as immune as you pretend to be. I've watched you laugh at his shitty jokes."

"I've laughed at all of your shitty jokes," I countered.

"Yeah, but you light up at the Boss's."

"Shut up."

"I've been wondering why you didn’t come to find us once you left Aurora."

I shrugged. "When I first left, I wasn't thinking about much other than getting the fuck out of there and not getting caught. Took me a while to get my bearings.

"Then, I started bounty hunting and taking out slave traders. I was so caught up with all that and the girls at Sabaody. I didn't really think about finding you all seriously until then. Like I daydreamed about it, sure. But I didn't think it was something that I should do. Felt kind of pathetic. Chasing after you guys like some groupie. What if I only was attached to you guys because you were the only people who were ever nice to me?"

We walked in comfortable silence for a moment as Benn mulled that over. "I take it you met some good people in the world if you were willing to meet us again."

"Ya know, the world’s a big place. Such a big place that it's impressive that I managed to get stuck on an island with a bunch of fucking assholes. But once I hit the Grand Line, the devil fruit, the scars, none of it meant shit.”

"And you had your fan club."

"Oh no, I don't want to hear jack shit about a fan club from you, Benn Beckman. You've had a line of ladies at the bar for the past week."

He raised his hand, not pulling the wagon along in surrender.

"I just wanted to figure out who I was before I even considered finding you guys, the Old Man, anyone. How are people supposed to rely on and trust you when you don't even know who you are outside of how much others hate you?"

Benn took a drag of his cigarette. "We're glad you got yourself sorted, the Boss especially."

I rolled my eyes and lightly elbowed him. "We're supposed to be on the same side, you know?"

"The Boss isn’t here. You're fair game."

“Rude.”

One more turn and the shopping district came into full view. There were storefronts all up and down the road, with different grocery carts and vendors lining the street. People hustled about, either selling their wares or trying to complete their shopping before lunch.

"What do we even need?" I asked, wiping the sweat that was accumulating on my brow.

Benn pulled the list out of his pocket.

"Hongo has some things to be picked up from the apothecary, and Roux needs more vegetables. I think he's planning on making kebabs."

I felt my face twist.

"Not a fan of kebabs? "

"No, I like them enough. I can’t say the same of that little con artist at the big produce stall."

"Con artist? You mean Belle?"

I studied Benn’s face for a moment. "Oh no."

"What?"

"Belle is gonna hustle the shit out of you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"What the hell are you on about?"

"Her prices are insane! Do you know how much she tried to charge me for turnips last week?! And she gets away with it because she distracts you with those fucking doe eyes and freckles and that damn crop top."

My rant assured Benn that there was no danger to be concerned about, so his confusion and concern eased.

"Doe eyes, freckles, and a crop top, huh?" Benn chuckled. "Sounds like you have a crush."

"I did until I saw her damn prices.”

There was no denying that Belle was drop-dead gorgeous. She was very clearly put at the stall to use her looks and charm to sell produce. She didn’t have the build nor calluses of someone who farmed.

“Listen, I'm not faulting her for making her money. If that's what she thinks her turnips are worth, then so be it. I didn't try to haggle with her. I didn't even bring it up. I was just like, 'Eh, I might be back.' But the second I was like, 'meh,' it was like a switch had been flipped. She told me that maybe the dude from the pig farm might have slop more my speed."

"Over a turnip?"

"Over a fucking turnip! Because I didn't fall for her charm offensive!"

"Uh-huh. I think we can afford her prices. We can even buy you your turnips."

I narrowed my eyes at Benn. "Don’t patronize me, you weak, weak man. This isn’t about being able to afford turnips. I wouldn’t think anything of it if they were a little pricey. It's the principle of the thing. They were way overpriced, and she started barking and yapping when I tried to disengage peacefully."

“It’s good to see you stand your ground, even about turnips."

I snagged the slip that Hongo must've received from the apothecary. "I'll go grab this. You can go get scammed by Belle."

“Meet you back here in 30 minutes?” he asked.

I nodded before taking the next turn.

I knew that there was no goddamned way he was going to be back in 30 minutes. It would only take her one glance, and she’d have Benn roped in. Or maybe he would have her roped into his. Either way, this wouldn’t be the simple transaction he thought it was.

Sure, Benn liked to drink and always had a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but alcohol and tobacco had nothing on his number one vice: women.

I made it to the apothecary quickly, picking up the bags of stuff that Hongo had ordered. Making my way back to the designated meet-up spot, I made a couple of additional stops, picking up a few things I had planned to get later in the week, saving myself another trip.

When I arrived back at the corner where we split off, Benn was nowhere to be found. I checked my watch, and I was only a few minutes late. I decided to give him five more minutes before I investigated.

A quick pass by the produce stand showed it was closed, and its operator was missing. A few patrons were milling about, chattering about where she could’ve gone. Notably, the cart Benn had been dragging along earlier was not particularly well hidden off to the side.

Where the two had run off to was anyone’s guess.

‘Called it.’

I grabbed the handle of the cart, throwing Hongo’s belongings on it, before heading to the port, where the Red Force was docked.

As I neared the ship, I realized I had never actually been on the Red Force during the day. They’d not yet acquired the Red Force when they docked in Aurora. I, of course, had snuck aboard at night when I planted my journal in Shanks’s belongings. But I’d never just casually been on the ship.

A few of the boys were on deck doing chores. The two newbies that Yasopp had tried to hustle the first night I’d reunited with everyone were scrubbing down the deck under the sniper’s watchful eye.

“Ayo! Yasopp!” I called, getting his attention.

He peered over at me. “Liz!” he greeted cheerily. “Come on up!” He nodded to the boys, who scrambled over to me, relieved to be freed from deck duty.

They took the cart while Yasopp extended a hand to pull me aboard. “Where’s Beck?”

“Pretty sure he’s getting his carrot peeled by the produce girl, so I brought Hongo’s order and the rest of the supplies back. Figured I’d do you guys a solid. “

“Much appreciated.”

I took a glance around. “Looks so much different in the day,” I said.

“In the day?” Yasopp questioned.

“Y’all might be a little too cocky. Should be better at watch.”

“How many times have you been here?”

“Only once.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared,” he muttered.

“Both is probably the safest answer,” Limejuice said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Did we get a new first mate?”

“Is that an option?” I asked. “I was always under the impression the Captain was the one you wanted to get rid of.”

“If you were first mate, you’d effectively be the captain.”

I shrugged. “You’d have to let me cash him in before I turn to piracy. Easy money. Would be a shame not to.”

“Excellent plan,” Yasopp chirped.

“Agreed.”

“So, do you want a tour since this is your first time here in the day, apparently?” Yasopp asked.

“Most definitely.” I mean, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to get a tour of a Yonko ship?

“Great, Lime will take you,” Yasopp volunteered him. “I need to make these to get everything sparkling before we leave.”

“Better hurry up, boys,” Limejuice chirped. “Or we’ll leave without ya.”

I snickered as I followed behind him.

“So welcome to the Red Force,” he said, gesturing around.

I let out a low whistle. “You guys upgraded since I saw you.”

He nodded proudly. “She’s a beauty. You’re currently on the main deck…”

Lime juice took me through almost all the Red Force. The orchard on the deck with various fruit trees. The gun deck also doubled as an armory and blacksmith. The crow’s nest. The bridge. The living quarters. The orlop was an absolute mess. The bar that they had specially built, because of course they did. The library, where Benn hid out when the others were too much. The sail room. The med bay, where Hongo was trying to decide what needed to go with us, given the crew’s penchant for chaos.

The doctor took a moment away from his stress to thank me for picking up his order instead of their first mate.

From there, we headed to the galley. Lucky Roux was prepping for the trip as well. Or he was trying to, but there was still the matter of his produce that had yet to arrive.

“Lizzy!” he greeted. “What brings you to our vessel on this fine day?”

“I ran into your first mate and decided to help him with the shopping.”

“Really? Then where the hell is he?”

“Ran off to play hide the banana with the girl from the produce stand.”

“By the girl with the expensive turnips?"

"Thank you!" I said. "Who needs to turn in bounties when you can just rip people off on fucking turnips?"

"And the cabbages."

"They had brown spots!"

"I thought maybe she'd be nicer to Benn," Luck said. "Give him a discount."

"Seriously? Cause I think she's suckered him in. Figuratively and literally. He said before we even got there that he was sure we could afford full price."

"What? Does he not understand it's the principle?"

"Not when there's a babe involved," Shanks said as he walked into the galley, one of the rookies behind him.

“Hey, Captain.”

“Miss Elizabeth.”

My guess was that he was in his quarters or the attached office. Those were the only notable rooms left off the tour, though I had already seen them from my previous mission.

"You think some girl is swindling the smartest man on the crew?" the kid asked.

"Yes," Luck and I said in sync. We glanced at each other, then at the newbie. "Wanna bet it?"

His eyes narrowed at the challenge. "Loser buys the winner's drinks next time at the tavern,"

"You do realize there's one of you and two of us, right?" Luck asked.

"Only means you can afford twice as many drinks.”

“You got a confident one here, Captain,” I said, looking at Shanks.

“I know who to put my money on.”

"I'll shake on it on behalf of the future winners," Luck said, putting his hand out.

"I hate to take your money like this."

I scoffed.

"Benn's brains don't mean anything in the face of a beautiful woman," Shanks added. "He doesn't stand a chance."

“I can’t believe how much he’s about to spend on fucking peppers and onions.”

“I know.”

“As much as you may have tried,” Shanks started. “You haven’t drained my coffers to the point where I can’t afford vegetables.”

“Not the point!” Luck and I echoed.

“She told me that from the looks of it, I didn’t know what a vegetable was,” Luck said.

“That little bitch told me slop might be more my speed. I’ve been forced to eat scraps, so I can confidently say her fucking turnips weren’t far off.”

Shanks’s expression went to his false neutral that he tended to wear when I said something that he thought was upsetting but didn’t want to make a deal about.

I gently hip-checked him, subtly shaking my head to let him know it was fine. It was a long time ago, and things were a whole hell of a lot different now.

He shot me a surprisingly subtle smile, bumping me back.

“If I’m not ready on time-“

“Now, why wouldn’t you be on time?” Benn asked, walking into the galley and setting down crates of onions, peppers, zucchini, eggplant, and mushrooms.

“Well, well, well, look who it is; so much for 30 minutes.”

“I made a detour.”

“Yeah, to Belle’s.”

“You couldn’t have returned the vegetables to Liz before you decided to ring Belle’s bell?” Luck asked, scrutinizing the haul.

I snorted. “That was terrible.” I caught sight of the white slip caught between two zucchini.

“You know, Benn, if you keep up this type of behavior, you might lose your spot as favorite,” Shanks teased.

I shook my head while not looking away from the paper between my fingers. “Not today, though.” I held the receipt up. “Cause you got fucking hosed.”

Luck popped his head over my shoulder to look at the receipt. “God, man, Liz ain’t lying.”

“Seriously?”

I grinned up at the kid, turning the receipt around. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll stay away from the top shelf.”

Luck shook his head. “I’m not!” he exclaimed before cackling. I joined him.

Shanks sighed and patted his poor rookie’s shoulder. “Benn – and you – never stood a chance.”

“Did you really bet on whether or not I was going to sleep with Belle?” Benn asked.

“No. We bet on whether or not she was going to scam you, which, based on this receipt, she totally did.”

Benn pinched the bridge of his nose. “We leave in an hour and a half. Don’t you all have to finish getting ready?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luck waved him off.

“Walk you out?” Shanks offered.

“Thanks, Captain.”

***

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duckprintspress · 3 years

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How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

#writing advice #duck prints press #original content

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swanimagines · 3 years

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Hi love! Could you do prompt B9 with Kaz Brekker please? Thank you!!

B9: “Did you do all this… for me?”

Fandom: Shadow and Bone

A/N: I'm sorry for clogging your dashboards with Kaz + Shadow and Bone and I have ignored all my requests for other fandoms but honestly I'm waiting for some free time with my days just so I could write something for Kaz and it finally feels like I can write and I thoroughly enjoy writing these!!! I missed that feeling. It also makes me wanna start outlining my series idea based on the show timeline because that would mean I would have new chapters to write and aaaaahhhhh I'm itching to write it but I'm scared because my serieses always flop or then I lose interest after like two or three chapters, but sticking to the show plot and just adding reader and a side plot for Kaz x reader could help with it??? That wouldn't be very original though but yeah. I hope you like it!

Warnings: mentions of prostitution + child prostitution at the beginning of this but other than that it's fluffy, promise!

Word count: 923

The Menagerie.

A house full of music and pleasure, from outside it seemed like people would have fun there. Clients usually had, but workers… they were a different story. You remembered working for Tante Heleen since you were a child, but now Kaz had suddenly asked you to come with him and now you were there, standing in the middle of Tante Heleen’s office, her looking up and down your form before Kaz laid a small pouch on her table. She peeked inside, taking two red, glimmering rubies out, before she grinned at Kaz and turned her gaze on you.

You felt like you wanted to vomit, having her look at you like a piece of meat.

“I’ll miss you, darling.” Tante Heleen smiled at you mockingly. “You were so good at pleasing our clients…”

Kaz sent a glare to your boss, or former boss, before he lightly nudged you with his cane, indicating it was time to leave. You walked straight out from the Menagerie, receiving jealous glances from your previous colleagues, but some sent you slight smiles, silently telling they were thankful you got out.

And seeing those glances slowly let the information sink in. You were out. You weren’t her property anymore.

But… Kaz didn’t have such money, did he?

“Kaz, how did Tante Heleen let me go like that? What did you do?” you tried to have an eye contact with him as you were walking back to the Club, but he just kept staring forward with his usual expression, like nothing had happened a moment earlier. “You don’t have that kind of money-”

“I gave her the Crow Club as a collateral for you and Inej before we left to the Fold.” he interrupted you.

You blinked at him in disbelief, being silent for a full minute before stuttering out “W-why?”

“You were worth it. Two of the jewels paid your final debt. You’re free to do whatever you want now.”

The rest of the walk happened in pure silence, you trying to swallow the fact that you were finally free from her. But back at the Club you slowly sat down at Kaz’s armchair as he moved to stand behind his desk, and picked up a pile of papers before slowly starting to browse them through.

“Did you do all this… for me?” you raised your eyes to Kaz, who slowly nodded without meeting your eyes. “Why me?”

Kaz still didn’t look at you, he just continued browsing through his files. “Inej made her choice to leave the Crows for an indefinite time. I needed a replacement.”

You sighed. “You could have stopped her. I know you cared about her.”

Kaz glanced up at you, stopping to examine your face for a second before he turned it back to his papers, but his hands had stopped browsing them. He laid the pile down before leaning against his table.

“It’s... different with Inej.” he mumbled, and you frowned.

“Different how?”

Silence. Kaz drummed his fingers against his table, looking at the scattered pile of papers in front of him. Then he finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his blue eyes scanning your face for a second or two before he spoke.

“She isn’t like you. You’re…” he quickly averted his eyes from yours, back to his papers.

He fell silent again, as to bite back his next words what he was going to say. But you understood what he was going to say after looking at his body language. He wasn’t good at expressing feelings, he avoided it at all costs. Your mouth opened a little bit, as you let out a silent “oh”.

Kaz visibly swallowed, fully aware you had caught his unsaid words. Neither of you was sure what to say next, what to do next. You had felt something for him for quite some time now, receiving teasing from Jesper and knowing smiles from Inej, but you thought their words were just teasing so you’d blush which they would find hilarious. Which they did.

“I wish you saw how he looks at you.”

Inej’s words echoed in your head, followed by a flash of Jesper grinning at you after he had seen Kaz’s jacket thrown over you when you woke up after a particularly cold night.

“He doesn’t give his jacket to anyone, you know?”

You had thought that him giving your jacket was just because you had been drenched wet from rain after hunting down a rabbit for dinner, and he was worried you’d catch a cold and that would lead to your mission failing. That he wasn’t worried about you. But what if he was?

“I…” you choked out, and Kaz pressed his lips to a tight line, still looking down at his table.

“I know. I don’t blame you.” he answered before you could even finish.

“No, Kaz. Listen. I… I feel something for you too.” you breathed out, and watched him frown, before he slowly raised his gaze to look at you. His eyes wandered over your face, before he shook his head.

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do.” You placed your hand next to Kaz’s, not quite touching him but near enough to let him know that you were serious. A token of affection, even if it wasn’t a typical one.

His lips twitched just a slightest bit into a ghost of a smile while he looked at your hands placed side by side, and he nodded. That was a wordless agreement - you were his and he was yours.

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cinemassance-oneshots · 3 years

Text

Don’t Touch Her—Spencer Reid

Word count: 3.6k

angst and fluff

Synopsis: you and Reid go undercover for a case and it goes wrong. You finally hear how Reid feels about you.

Warnings: mention of violence and gore.

A/N: I’m quite new to one shots, so I hope you enjoy. You are free to send in requests. I am still new to tumblr, so I hope to figure stuff out soon on here. I plan to do more characters, make a master list pinned to my board, and do smut chapters in the future <3

I was originally getting my morning coffee until I got the call from Garcia. I pressed my lips together as she confirmed it was another case before I proceeded to ask what coffee she wanted. If I ever got a call about a case and I was already at a coffee shop, I would grab coffee for the rest of the team. It was only fair, and they would do the same for me. We’re all a family.

I carefully carried the trays of coffee in my hands to the building.

“Do you need a hand?” I didn’t have to look up to see who it was. I would know that voice anywhere.

I turned to look at him with a smile. “That would be great, Spence.”

He shot me a smile as he reached over and grabbed a tray. The brief contact of our skin touching made my heart flutter momentarily.

Without hesitation, Spencer opened the door and let me in. “You shouldn’t spoil us with coffee all the time.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I glanced up at him. “It’s fine. I’m keeping tabs,” I joked. “Don’t worry. I got your coffee how you like. Although, I don’t understand why you insist on dairy since you’re lactose intolerant.”

“What can I say? I like dairy.” “But tummy aches,” I replied. “A little pain is worth it.”

I rolled my eyes at him. He could be so stubborn at times. We stepped into the elevator to go meet the rest of our team. Most of them were already seated at the table.

“You’re such a life-saver,” JJ told me with a grin. I smiled back as I started to hand everyone their coffees.

“Last, but not least,” I said as I turned to face Spencer. “Dr. Reid,” I finished in a softer tone. I could’ve sworn I saw him gulp, but I was probably imagining it.

As soon as everyone showed up, Garcia went on to tell us about the new case. We all flipped through our files as she spoke. It’s not hard to admit this job is difficult, especially with how monstrous some people are.

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told us as he left the room.

***

Spencer and I were partnered to go to the coroner’s office. The person went over the details as I looked at the bodies and Spencer read the files.

“Can he really read that fast,” the woman asked me, making me briefly glance up at her.

“Yes,” I replied before looking back at the bodies. “You said the male was most likely hit with an iron chain that was also used to strangle him afterwards?”

“That’s what it points to. Why?”

“Wielding a big chain is a lot harder than most people tend to believe,” Spencer informed as he handed her the file back.

“Here’s the other thing though,” the forensics started to speak, “the female victim had lacerations on her skin from leather. It’s possible she was whipped with leather while he was whipped with a chain.”

“We could be looking at two unsubs,” I thought out loud as I looked up at Spencer. He nodded.

“I think so too.” “I’ll call Hotch.”

I stepped outside of the room as I called him. Not long after Hotch answered. “What did you guys find?”

“We’re looking for two unsubs. One is strong enough to wield an iron chain as a whip and the other is weaker since they used a leather whip on the female victim.”

“Thanks. If you and Reid find anything else, let me know.”

And with that, the call ended. I found my way back to Spencer to catch up on any more details he learned. He caught me up on the information, which shocked forensics to see he spoke every detail verbatim.

We thanked the woman before leaving to head to the precinct to catch up with the team.

“What are you thinking Reid?” I glanced over at him as I drove. It was as if I could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I know it seems weird, but I think it might be a couple who committed these murders.”

“So the guy kills the male and the girl kills the female. They probably get off on watching each other torture and kill their victim.”

“The male uses a chain to beat and kill the guy showing his dominance and strength.”

“And the woman uses a leather whip which is usually associated with BDSM.”

“Exactly,” Spencer agreed.

As soon as Spencer and I got to the precinct, we told the team what we came up with and what forensics showed. We all went around putting in our input based on the evidence all of us gathered and learned.

Unfortunately, that’s when we all received news there were more victims just found.

I went with Emily and Morgan to look at the crime scene. The victimology was the same. The male was brutally tortured and killed with a metal chain and the female with a leather whip. It’s unsettling to know there are couples who do these things together, let alone a single person.

Once we returned to meet with the rest of the team, we learned each couple went to the same bar the night they went missing. It was no coincidence. That bar meant something to that couple. With all the information we gather, we were finally ready to deliver the profile.

After it was delivered, Hotchner began to talk about a plan he had in mind.

“We need to set up an undercover operation for tonight,” Hotch spoke. “We’ll have multiple people stationed throughout the area to keep an eye out.”

Everyone nodded. Everyone understood the plan.

“Two of my agents will be the ones going undercover. I need as many others as possible to be around the area ready to catch this couple. Be careful and aware of everything, but remember to be subtle. We don’t want to announce our presence before they’ve made themselves known. Any alarm could ruin this.”

And with that the plan was set in motion.

Hotch pulled me and Spencer aside to speak with us. “I need you two to go undercover as the couple.”

I almost wanted to look at Spencer and imagine it was all real. I desperately wanted to know what it would be like to be with him, but I made sure to keep my mind fixated on the case at hand.

JJ helped me get ready. I wasn’t exactly great at doing my makeup myself, so I was glad she helped.

“Try to explain to me why you and Reid aren’t dating in real life again,” she asked with a small smirk.

“I don’t know..,” I softly said.

That was the truth. I didn’t know how to make a move or what to do with Spencer. Every time I thought about it, my palms would sweat profusely and my heart would race that I would have to change the subject in my head.

“I see the way you both look at each other. Trust me, everyone does.”

I quirked a brow. “What?”

JJ let out a small chuckle. “After we close this case, I think you should go for it. I just hope you do it soon, otherwise I’ll lose this bet going on.”

“You have a bet going on about me and Spencer?”

JJ did a sly smile and shrugged her shoulders. “Good luck tonight. We’ll make sure nothing happens to you two.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

I felt a little odd wearing a dress. I prefer slacks or skirts but dresses always felt different to me. I at least felt more secure having one of my smaller guns strapped to my thigh.

“Hey, hot mama,” Derek said with a grin.

I lightly punched his arm. “I can still kick your ass, Morgan.”

He let out a laugh as I rolled my eyes. Hotch walked up and handed me my earpiece. “We’ll be listening to everything. We’ll tell you and Reid if we notice something.”

I nodded as I listened and put the piece in. I let my hair fall over it to help conceal the device.

As soon as Reid walked over, my heart raced at the site of him. It was rare to see him in jeans and a plain button down. He looked good in anything.

Hotch gave him his earpiece as well and told him what he just told me. I almost felt that out of the corner of my eye I saw Reid glance at me a few times.

Spencer and I made our way outside of the precinct to use one of the undercover cars to drive to the place. He got on the drivers side.

“You, uh, look really pretty,” Spencer spoke. His voice came out a little broken and nervous.

I felt my cheeks heat up as I smiled. “Thanks. JJ did a good job.”

I watched as his mouth parted but closed after a second. I wanted so desperately to know what he was planning on saying. Usually he never thought about not speaking once something was on his mind. It made me even more curious.

“You look good too,” I decided to speak. I watched as he gulped and lightly blushed.

“I-I do? I haven’t worn jeans in about 20 years.”

“You always look good,” I mumbled. I was afraid he would hear what I said.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied in a fast tone. “I was mumbling to myself.”

“Oh… Okay.”

I glanced over and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips. My heart raced as I asked myself if he heard me or not.

When we arrived at the bar, Spencer opened the door for me like he usually does.

“Such a gentleman.” I smiled and looked up at him.

“Well, you deserve the best.”

My heart fluttered. Did he mean himself? Was he trying to be the best he could? For me?

He held out his hand before I grasped it in my own. I couldn’t deny that it was a wonderful feeling holding his hand. Mine felt so small in his.

We walked inside to find it crowded. Apparently it was a popular bar. It was also happy hour, so that explained a lot of things.

“What would you like to drink,” Spencer leaned in and asked me. His breath on my skin sent exciting shivers down my back.

“Cranberry juice. That way it looks like I might be drinking a mixed drink,” I whispered to him. He nodded.

I don’t know how long we were there, but it felt like a while. Spencer and I sat at the bar sipping our drinks, talking, and looking around inconspicuously.

I leaned in and whispered into Spencer’s ear. “I don’t know if this will be enough to attract them. But when I pull away, act as if I said something enticing to you.”

When I pulled away, I saw a smile on Spencer’s lips as he looked at me.

“I’ve never seen you two in before.”

Spencer and I turned to see a guy in his mid-30’s holding two beers.

“We’re just visiting. We had to try this place out because we kept hearing so many good things,” I replied with a smile.

“We always love welcoming new people. I’m John, by the way. That’s my fiancé Cindy over there.”

He turned and pointed to a blonde woman seated at a table who waved over at us with a bright smile.

“Fiancé? Congratulations,” I told him. “When is the special day?”

“We’re still settling on one. You both are more than welcome to join us at our table.”

I looked over at Spencer to meet his eyes. “Does that sound good, Matt?”

He nodded with a smile as we walked over and joined them at the table.

“Hi, I’m Cindy,” the woman said with a smile.

“June.” “Matt.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I hope John wasn’t bothering you. We’ve just never seen your faces around here before.”

“We’re visiting,” I answered.

Something in my gut told me this was them, but I didn’t have any proof. Yet.

We spoke with them a for a while. Without thinking, I reached under the table and searched for Spencer’s hand. It was almost like he knew because his hand found mine and squeezed it reassuringly.

“How about another round of drinks,” John asked as he stood up.

“I’ll come with,” Spencer replied as he stood up.

They left leaving me and Cindy alone. “You’re a lucky girl,” she told me.

“You are too. You and John look so happy together.”

“But the way Matt looks at you,” she spoke and bit her lip lightly. “John never looks at me that way. You got yourself a winner.”

“I think we both do.”

I suddenly had a nausea wave over me. “Woah, hun! You okay there?”

“Yeah, I, um—where’s the restroom?”

“Here, I’ll help you. You don’t look so good.”

I didn’t have time to think since I felt like I was about to puke any second. Cindy stood up and helped me stumble my way to the restroom.

I rushed into a stall and immediately threw up. I plucked the piece out of my ear and held it in my palm so the others wouldn’t have to listen to me puking. I know I wouldn’t want to listen to it.

I slumped over after I finished.

“Are you finished yet?”

I could barely form a word as I glanced over and saw the end of a barrel. How could I be so stupid? I just hoped someone would come crashing into the bathroom to get her, but no one came.

“Get up,” she told me.

I could barely stand as I did what she told me to do. I briefly looked around and noticed the restroom didn’t look like a public one but a single person one. I cursed myself in my head.

She grasped my arm tightly and held the gun to my side. “Walk with me like normal and I won’t kill you right here. I want to at least have some fun before I do that.”

There was excitement laced in her voice. It made me sick again hearing it. How someone could be so excited to kill something else. Another human being.

I was led to a van. Every step I prayed someone would come help. Anyone.

I was shocked inside with the door immediately closed behind me. I threw up again. I couldn’t think of when my drink could’ve been drugged.

My legs and arms felt numb as I slumped onto the floor of the van. I wanted to reach for my gun or do something, but my body wouldn’t let me.

I could barely make out the sound of Spencer’s voice as he clung onto me.

“What did you do to her,” he demanded. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so angry.

“Relax, why don’t you,” John snapped. “She’ll be conscious enough soon.”

And with that, Spencer went unconscious beside me after the end of a gun butted against his temple.

***

My eyelids flickered open adjusting to the lightly. My arms were tied being my back with rope. I looked over to find an unconscious Spencer. I knew my gun was snatched away by them, so the hopes with that were gone.

I softly spoke his name as I tried to move closer to him. A hum left his throat as his head slightly moved. I nudged him lightly a few times.

As soon as his eyes opened, they landed on me with a worried expression.

“Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head as I looked at the small patch of blood on his temple.

“Is your head okay?”

“It’ll be fine… I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Spence.”

“I should’ve paid attention more, then we wouldn’t be here. I could’ve done more to protect us, protect you,” he said as he looked away.

“Spence, look at me,” I pleaded. “None of this is your fault. We’ll get out of this.”

I looked around, but we were in a completely bare room with nothing that could help us. When I looked back at Spencer, he was looking at me.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I want to make sure the imprint of your features are engraved in my brain in case something happens.”

How could he make my heart swarm in a situation like this?

“This might sound insanely morbid, but if I had to die with anyone, I’m glad you’re the last person I’ll see.”

A small chuckle left his throat. I loved that sound so much.

“That is extremely morbid, but I understand what you mean... I have to tell you something.”

I stayed silent to let him know I was listening. I watched as he glanced down and swallowed hard.

“I want you to know that I’ve liked you ever since you joined the team… I regret never doing anything about it. I guess I was scared.”

Spencer slowly looked back up at me. I almost felt like I was going to cry from both the situation and finally hearing those words leave his mouth.

“I like you too, Spence.”

I wanted to say more, but the door busted open and the couple walked in.

“Well, ain’t that precious,” John said in an amused tone.

Cindy walked closer to me. I tried to move away, but I was helpless.

“Don’t touch her,” Spencer demanded as he lunged forward but was held back my John.

“You don’t get to make demands. I can’t wait to see you watch her die. Cindy is amazing with her craft.”

I felt sick at his words as she wrapped a hand around my throat. Her grasp tightened as she pulled me up. John ordered Spencer to get up as well as they led us to another room.

Spencer was forced into a chair and was tied down as my arms were lifted above me to be locked to a chain.

I watched with disgust as Cindy stroked Spencer’s face. “Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this one. He loves her so much.”

She smiled wickedly as she glanced up from beside him. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face when she takes her last breath. I’m getting turned on just thinking about it.”

“Kill me first,” his voice broke out.

“What?”

“Kill me first. It should be me.”

I yanked on the chain as tears threatened to stream down my cheeks. I wanted to scream at him for saying such a thing.

Cindy stood up as she hummed. “I thought John told you that you don’t get to make demands.”

I kept my eyes on Spencer that I didn’t even notice her pick up her whip. It wasn’t until the first slash cut into my skin that I noticed.

A cry erupted from my mouth as my eyes squeezed shut.

Spencer screamed out as he tried to get out of the chair to help in some way. Tears poured down both of our faces.

I could feel my own blood run down my skin as the slashes kept coming. It soaked my torn clothing and my body. My throat finally started to feel hoarse from my cries. My legs couldn’t even keep my body up. Only the chain kept me up.

“FBI, put your weapons down!”

I could barely raise my head to see what was going on. I heard a shot ring out before I felt hands on me.

Spencer gently held me and made sure to not touch the cuts as someone else freed my wrists from the chains. I fell into his arms as he kept me up.

“I need a medic,” he cried out.

My heartbeat was going incredibly fast. The pain was unbearable.

“Someone get a medic now!”

Everything was a blur. One moment I was in Spencer’s arms, then I was in an ambulance with Spencer holding my hand firmly in his before I went unconscious.

***

I woke up in a hospital bed.

I felt something beside me and saw Spencer’s hand holding mine with his head slumped over on the bed asleep. A small smile formed on my lips.

I moved to readjust as I felt a wave of pain sear throughout my body. I hissed at the sensation, which immediately woke Spencer up.

“What’s wrong?” He instantly asked as he looked at me with a worried expression.

“Just the pain,” I replied.

I saw guilt wash over his face as he looked down. His hand left mine. It felt cold and lonely without his touch.

“It’s my fault you’re like this.”

“Hey,” I reached up to hold his face with my hand closest to him, “None of this is your fault. Don’t you dare feel guilty about any of this. You did everything you could.”

Spencer reached up and grabbed my hand. He brought it back to the bed and held it in both of his hands.

“I’m so sorry.”

I gave his hand a light squeeze. “I’ll let the others know you’re awake.”

I grasped his hand tighter to stop him. “In a little bit. I just want to be with you right now.”

Spencer sat back down as he nodded.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything,” he said as he looked up and gave me his full attention.

I took a deep breath before I parted my lips to speak. “Did you mean everything you said back there?”

His brows furrowed together. “I meant every word. I would never lie to you.”

My heart fluttered at his words. It made me so happy to hear him say that despite all the pain I was currently in. In a way, having him beside me and talking with him made the pain easier.

“I, um, was wondering if maybe we could try a real date once you’re better and everything,” Spencer softly spoke as he looked down at our hands. I smiled at how cute he was being.

“I’d love that.”

#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid angst #mgg fluff #mgg #mgg imagine #mgg angst #imagine #read more

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yoongii-ah · 2 years

Text

Spring Day (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4: The First Date (Part 2)

After your morning hike with Min Yoongi, he asked you out for dinner at his apartment. After “helping” him with a home-cooked meal, you sat down over a bottle of wine to get to know each other a bit better. You finally felt he was opening up to you a bit more compared to this morning. After learning he wrote songs for a living you asked him to play something on the grand piano located in the main room of his apartment, you would have never guessed that the man you just had dinner with was in the largest K-Pop band in the world.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, an older injury from last episode, a couple swear words, and a very passionate kiss eluding to sexual tension.

Word count: 2,824k

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

This chapter took me forever to put onto paper (or Microsoft Word?) I felt a bit stumped about where these two were going to go from here, but I think I’ve got a bit of a plan. Since this story was based off a dream originally, I’ve officially had to create the rest of the script. I think this is how my subconscious would want it to be…

Again, any advice and constructive criticism is welcome! Thanks for reading 😊

- - - - - - - - - - - -

You slipped off the rubber gloves and turned around, watching Yoongi play a few broken melodies on the piano before settling on a song. You walked toward him, being careful to not get too close or disrupt his playing. From behind you could see his right hand played a few chords gracefully as his left hand played a lower melody, his hand moving swiftly across the bottom keys of the piano. After a few seconds, you immediately recognized the song. You had heard it many times in your own apartment while listening to the radio to distract yourself from your own thoughts. Since Korean wasn’t your strongest language, you recognized and could sing along to a few of the lyrics, but not the whole song. You listened to him play the intro as a smile crept onto your face, appreciating his talent.

You were immediately impressed that he was the one to write this song that had played on the radio dozens of times. You were just starting to sway a little bit to the music but stopped as soon as Yoongi opened his mouth. The smile that came across your face immediately vanished, and chills came over your entire body as the light hairs on your arms stood up. You felt a little dizzy, but knew the wine wasn’t to blame.

He wasn’t the one to only write the song that was so popularly played on radio stations across Seoul, you would recognize that voice anywhere. He fucking sang it.

Yoongi’s long fingers continued to grace the ebony and ivory keys of the expensive piano he sat at as you tried to collect your thoughts while standing behind him. It was hard to breathe, your legs felt shaky, and there was a faint ringing in your ears as your started to piece together all the subtle clues about who this man really was from the first time you met him.

The barista’s giggles at the café, renting out the entire park for your morning hike, the underground parking and elevator key code, hell, even this building was extravagant, and you’ve only seen one unit.

Yoongi finished playing the song at the end of the second verse and turned around, sensing you were standing behind him, not trying to be distracting or overwhelming. Immediately he saw your face, eyes wide and pale skin, as your hands shook and played with the bandage he had placed on your hand earlier in the evening. His face dropped.

“Are you ok? What’s wrong? Do you feel ill?” Yoongi asked, jumping up from the piano bench, making a screeching sound on the marble floor, and walking towards you. “Is it your hand? Do you need to go to hospital?” He rapidly fired questions at you, genuinely concerned and trying to meet your eyes. The faint ringing was still in your ears, his voice sounded muffled, and you didn’t quite register what he was saying to you.

“Y/N? You’re worrying me, sit down.” He guided you towards one of the plain leather couches and walked briskly to the fridge to grab you cold water. “Here, drink this” he said as he cracked the lid off of the water bottle and forced it into your shaky hands. You slowly took a sip, focusing on the cold liquid hitting the back of your throat, bringing you back to reality. Suddenly the ringing in your ears started to fade.

“I didn’t… you said you wrote… who are you?” you stammered, trying to screw the lid back on the water bottle but fumbling with the cap. Yoongi grabbed it from your hands to place the lid back on securely before you spilled the whole bottle on yourself.

“I wasn’t sure if you knew… I thought there was a chance you could be faking it, but after spending the morning together I realized you didn’t know who I was exactly…” Yoongi said calmly, hesitating briefly as he placed the water bottle back in your hands. A bit envious of the water bottle, he wanted to reach for your hand to calm you but decided against it.

“You said you wrote songs… I just thought maybe it was for indie artists, or commercials…” you spat out. He tried to catch your gaze, but you avoided looking him directly in the eyes, your face still flush. You felt like an idiot, shaking and stumbling your words in front of this man. This man, who would have more money in a year than you would in a lifetime. He had no privacy, travelled the world, had millions of fans. Immediately your confidence started to shrink, and you stood up to grab your jacket and leave. Who am I compared to him? What am I doing here? You thought as you stood, your feet failing you as your heels caught on the threads of the area rug placed in front of the couches.

“Wait” Yoongi said as he caught you by your arms, just above the elbow, as you started to falter. He stood in front of you like a wall, his shoulders thrown back as he continued to try to meet your eyes. You finally summoned the courage to look up at his face. “Please just sit back down, I don’t want you to leave” he said softly.

You sat back down on the couch slowly, his hands never leaving your arms. “I was a little afraid all of this would scare you away, I understand it’s all a bit overwhelming…” he confessed, still remaining calm and soft spoken. He slid his hands down your arms to grasp your hands instead, being mindful of your bandage.

“I didn’t know, honestly” you stammered sincerely. The last thing you wanted to be viewed at was a gold digger.

It struck a nerve in you, as you recalled conversations with your ex about money. He was always jealous that your salary was more than his, but you never viewed it as a problem. “What are people going to think when you’re always picking up the tab?” He had spat at you. “It emasculates me, Y/N. It’s embarrassing. What would you do if I made more money than you?” “I’d let you pay, it wouldn’t matter to me. I don’t care how much money you make” you had argued back, exhausted from another spat. “I bet you’d like that, go find someone else with a fatter paycheque then” his words had slapped you in the face. He had stormed out of your shared apartment that evening for a few hours, but sulked back, smelling of whisky and second-hand smoke in the early morning hours. “I’m sorry baby” he had mumbled as he crawled into bed behind you, peppering kisses across your neck, your stomach turning. After all the arguments about money, and when he had paid for dinners and dates, he just made you feel guilty for it. You weren’t used to dating someone with enough emotionally maturity to not view women with higher salaries as emasculating.

Now you felt like the tables had turned, as your meekly realized Yoongi’s wealth. It made you uncomfortable.

“I don’t want you to think that I was faking anything, I promise, I don’t care about your money… I didn’t know…” you repeated yourself, shaking your head and starting to pull your hands out of his grasp.

Yoongi only held onto them tighter, “Ya ya ya, I wasn’t accusing you” he said in a slightly louder tone, cutting you off.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes momentarily, and opened them to meet his coffee-coloured irises. You finally noticed just how dark and serious his gaze was, as both of you paused before continuing the conversation.

Yoongi broke the silence, “I invited you here tonight because I wanted to spend more time with you. After this morning, I didn’t want our time together to end” as he spoke, he rubbed his thumbs over the backs of your hands soothingly. “I also needed someone to cut the peppers…” he added, attempting to add humour back into the conversation tonight.

You let out a soft laugh, “I bet your recipe didn’t call for a finger though.” Yoongi smiled and also chuckled, showing his teeth momentarily. The tension in the room was immediately released, and Yoongi shifted on the couch to sit more comfortably next to you. He let go of your left hand, as he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face a few times.

He reached for your hand again, “Let’s open another bottle of wine. We might need it…”

- - - - - - - -

You had excused yourself to the bathroom and locked the door behind you as Yoongi located another bottle of wine, no doubt just as expensive, your mind nagged at you. The guest bathroom was the size of your bedroom, with a large clawfoot tub that sat at the far side of the room against a wall length window. You tried to push your self-conscious voice to the back of your mind as you turned on the cold-water tap. You stood in front of the counter, looking in the mirror at your flushed face. You looked a little shell-shocked and a bit drunk. After opening a few cabinets, you located a crisp white face towel and ran it under the cold water. You folded it up and pressed it to your cheeks and forehead, then under your arms. Ringing it out, you placed it over the counter to dry, and fanned your face with your hands to dry any moisture left on your face. After inspecting your makeup, running your fingers through your curls, and adjusting your dress, you psyched yourself back up to leave the bathroom and head back into the kitchen. He’s not your ex, you repeated to yourself as you walked out of the bathroom, around the corner and back into the open kitchen.

Yoongi had opened another bottle and filled your glass with a few more ounces than usual of wine. The bottle sat on a different counter, the label facing away. He handed you the glass, “feeling a little better?” he asked with a slight teasing tone. You noticed he had undone another button on his shirt as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes, thank you… I borrowed a face towel from your cupboard, I hope you don’t mind…” you started to ramble again.

“Of course not, please make yourself comfortable.”

You both stood across the kitchen island from each other, noticing how your tone of conversation was suddenly back to feeling more formal.

“Here, come sit…” Yoongi motioned his head towards the couches as he walked back into the living room, taking a seat back on the same couch. You followed him and sat a comfortable distance away, taking another sip of wine before placing it on the side table beside the couch.

It was Yoongi’s turn to take a big breath before talking. “So, I work for Hybe Corporation. Their business is located in the same building, just a few floors below us. I’ve worked for them for close to 10 years as an idol and a producer. I’m in the group…”

“Bangtan Sonyeondan…” you cut off Yoongi unintentionally. “I only realized it when you started to sing the opening to your song at the piano.”

He nodded as he continued to explain, “when I saw you at the café this past week, I didn’t recognize you as a regular. When I leave my apartment it’s one of the few places I feel comfortable visiting without being bombarded with paparazzi. The baristas are discreet, and the other customers are usually too busy to notice me. When I saw you sitting by the windows, I was waiting for you to look up. When you didn’t, I realized you might not recognize me.”

“I’m not that familiar with BTS…” you started to say, as you caught Yoongi smirking before taking another sip of wine. “Oh, no, I mean I know your group is very popular and successful and…”

“It’s ok, I don’t take offence” he smiled softly at you.

“When you first introduced yourself to me your name was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I thought you could be a client at the firm, but I dismissed the thought. I really didn’t know who you were…” you couldn’t stress it enough.

Yoongi held up a hand dismissively, “I know, it’s ok, really. It’s actually a bit humbling to not be recognized” he laughed softly again, this time teasing himself.

“When you sat down at my table, I was just taken aback that someone had struck a conversation with me that was so honest and open.” Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I instantly felt comfortable around you…” you mumbled and added embarrassingly.

“I felt the same way” he added, shifting towards you on the couch again, “I wouldn’t have asked you here if I didn’t.”

You reached for your wine glass and took a larger sip, the alcohol making you feel warm and tingly. Both of you sat more comfortably on the couch this time, but the tension was back in the air again. Yoongi finished his glass of wine rather quickly and set it on the side table. He reached for your half full glass still in your hands and set it down beside his. He ran his hands through his hair once more before wrapping his warm hands around yours, clasping them together.

“I don’t want this to change anything between us” he confessed, sighing deeply, worried about your response. “I understand if this makes you feel uncomfortable…”

It was your turn to cut him off. “No, really Yoongi, it’s ok. I don’t want this to change anything either…”

Yoongi flashed a closed mouth smile, the corners of his lips upturned so that his eyes crinkled.

- - - - - - - -

After finishing the second bottle of wine there was no way you could drive back home. Yoongi had already sensed this and sent a message to his driver asking him to have the car ready to take you back home. You walked to the entrance and reached for your coat, but Yoongi was already a step ahead of you.

“Here…” he murmured, as you turned around to face away from him. He opened your coat and slid it back on over your shoulders. You turned around to face him, as he slowly did up the buttons from the bottom to the top, his hands resting on your collar bones. He paused, looking briefly at your lips before meeting your eyes. “I’ll come with you” he said, his hands letting go of your lapels as he quickly reached for his own felt coat.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that…”

“I want to” he spoke softly, doing up his own buttons on his coat. “Why don’t you leave your car keys here, I’ll have someone deliver it in the morning.”

You knew better than to argue with his offer, and you didn’t want to offend him after tonight as well. He has understood your point about not wanting to seem like you were only after his idol status, both socially and financially. You reached into your purse to place the keys into his hand.

“Let’s go” Yoongi said as you both stepped out of his apartment door, him locking the door while you pressed the elevator button.

- - - - - - - -

After a comfortably silent ride back to your apartment in the back seat of Yoongi’s town car, you arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I didn’t know you lived so close to the café” Yoongi mentioned, as he opened his door to step out onto the concrete. You unclicked your own seatbelt and went to reach for the car door, but Yoongi had rushed around to open it for you. He offered his hand to you as you took it and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“Thank you for the ride home” you spoke softly, avoiding eye contact. “I’d invite you up, but, uh…”

“Maybe another time” Yoongi finished the thought for you. You smiled briefly as your stared into his dark eyes, his skin gleaming under the yellow streetlight. You paused, wondering how to end the conversation this evening. To be honest, part of you didn’t want it to end.

“I’ll call you” Yoongi said as your heart dropped. You knew exactly what that saying meant, and you prepared yourself to say a cordial goodbye to Yoongi for good. This was the end of your brief fling, and you understood why. During this entire evening he was just being polite. Someone of Yoongi’s status would never date down to someone like you, especially considering the fact you only had half a year left in this country. You sighed and nodded staring at the damp concrete below your feet.

You began to politely thank him again, lifting your head to look at him once more, when suddenly his lips crashed into yours. Yoongi’s left hand reached around to grasp you at the small of your back, while his right hand brushed the hair on the side of your face away from your temple and behind your ear. You let out a small airy moan as your hands reached behind his back, holding him close. He parted his mouth gently, waiting to see if you’d mirror his lips. Your tongues brushed softly, tasting the wine you had earlier on his breath. After what felt like hours but only seconds at the same time, you pulled away regretfully from the kiss. Knowing that if you didn’t end it right then, Yoongi would be upstairs in your bed for the rest of the evening. As tempting as that sounded, you didn’t want this to move too quickly. After all, the last person you slept with was your ex. You didn’t want Yoongi just to be a bedroom palate cleanser though. How serious could this actually get anyways? I move home in six more months, you briefly wonder, quickly pushing the daunting thought from your mind.

Yoongi rested his forehead on yours for a few moments, taking a deep breath before pulling away and moving his hands to your waist. “I’ll call you” he whispered again, as he placed one last kiss on your cheek, and this time you knew he meant it.

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