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shutteredislands · 3 years

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REYLO MODERN AU FIC RECS

Hi!! I spent my entire winter break reading reylo fics and I feel like I’ve found some gems! I’m boring and don’t like angst, so most of these are pretty fluffy, however, always read the tags before reading. Anyways, happy reading!

Already Home - College, Roommates, A/B/O, Soulmates AU - Complete - Rated E - 79k

“Oh stop being all Alpha-y.” She flexes her foot, rolling her ankle as if to prove a point, and he doesn’t miss the wince that crosses her expression. “You aren’t my Alpha, and you definitely aren't my soulmate,” she mutters.

He can’t help but let out a dry laugh. “Thank god for small mercies.”

Okay so this is a trope fest but it was so good! I’m not gonna explain the plot in depth because I think going in blind is best for this!

Baby, It's Just Biology - Professor/Student, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 113k

For Rey Jackson, trying to finish your degree in Biomedical Science at Harvard is difficult enough when you're one of the few Omegas on campus.

It's made even more difficult when your Professor is the one to trigger your heat. You can't help it, it's just your biology.

An Alpha Omega love story.

This is the perfect balance of angst, fluff and pure smut. This one Is a lot angstier than anything else on this list, but you can see every stage of this relationship and I loved it so much! Please read the tags on this one!

I’ve got you (under my skin) - Nanny/Single Parent AU - On Hiatus - Rated E - 81k

“Hi, I’m Rey. I’m here for the—”

“Nanny,” Ben blurts out dazedly, still trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts. “You’re the nanny.”

Her smile hitches up a little wider. “Well, I might be.”

Suddenly, Ben thinks he might be in for a whole new world of problems.

Because Rey Johnson is still most likely the only thing standing between him and disaster, that much hasn’t changed, not by a long shot.

And Ben can’t seem to stop staring at her mouth.

In which Ben hires Rey to watch his son... but he can’t seem to stop watching her.

Okay so I almost never read WIPs, but this one was left off in a pretty good place so don’t worry about cliffhangers or anything. I am a sucker for single dad!Ben so expect more of these. I loved this fic so much and get ready for a SMUTFEST.

Light My Fire - Rivals to Lovers, College, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 20k

When rivals Ben and Rey break into a professor's office together, it comes out that Rey might not be the Beta she thinks she is.

I’ve never been the biggest reader of enemies to lovers, until this. This was so so so good! I loved their banter so much, and this is another smutfest lol.

Peacock - Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, Neighbors AU - Complete - Rated E - 72k

Thanks to a series of misunderstandings, failed attempts at flirting, and loud Katy Perry music, Ben grows to hate his new neighbor.

Proposing to her wasn't the best solution to his problems.

This is, hands down, one of the funniest fics I have ever read. I cried actual tears because of how funny this is. Slowish burn, but their banter will keep you engaged the whole time. I love this so much!!

An Unexpected Vacation - Scientist, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 62k

“You don’t care that someone, that people will watch you fuck?” He looks two seconds away from puking. “Like multiple, multiple people will be able to describe your vagina. They’ll probably analyze it in a boardroom. Someone will feel proud about a shitty PowerPoint full of annotated pictures. They will use words like ‘arousal fluid’ and consult charts and these things will never not be digitally saved. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Are you suggesting my vagina is unworthy of analysis?”

In which Rey attempts to bolster her bank account by volunteering to fuck an Alpha in a scientific study. Plans go pear-shaped when she accidentally triggers scientist!Ben’s first Rut.

This was a really funny smutfest and I loved that. I loved Rey and Ben so much, and Ben was the perfect “I hate everyone but you” boyfriend! I love this!

She Doesn’t Normally Bite - Single Parent/Teacher AU - WIP - Rated E - 37k

Ben Solo is a single dad to 6-year old Ellis. Her teacher isn't the old-cat lady that he expects and naturally, sparks fly when they meet. Rey helps show Ben that he is allowed to be happy and the romance is DELICIOUS. There will be the happy ending we all deserve.

Both Ben and Rey have a lot to navigate, and of course - things are never straight forward.

Tw: Bens wife died when their daughter was born - whilst it is mentioned periodically, it does not form a significant part of the story. There'll also be warnings in the notes for the particular chapters it'll be mentioned in.

THIS THE ONLY WIP I WILLL EVER READ REY AND BEN ARE SO FREAKING CUTE AND ELLIS IS SUCH A CUTE KID AHHHHHHH! That is all.

Down an Inch, Up an Inch - A/B/O, Soulmates, Gym Rats AU - Complete - Rated E - 60k

Omega instructor Rey has always been the master of her domain at Rebel Belle Barre and wouldn't dream of dating an Alpha.

When her new neighbors at Supremacy Bootcamp start ruining her classes with their terrible music, she storms over to give them a piece of her mind. She challenges the beefy ex-Marine owner Ben Solo to a plank-off and the loser has to take the other's class. When they spark an unusual connection, can Rey stay away for long?

Has she bitten off more than she can chew with the gentle giant Alpha with the warm, sad eyes?

SMUT FREAKING FESTTTTT. Okay but I loved these two so much, even though I am opposed to working out in any shape or form! I love the non-traditional soulmate part, and I really loved Rey in this.

Tea for Two - Enemies to Lovers, University Setting AU - Complete - Rated E - 67k

'"This is a tea house, you know." The plummy, ultra-posh voice startled Rey Kenobi from her day-dreaming, almost spilling the scalding hot coffee over her chest.'

Rey, an American former hacker, turned cyber security expert, has been commissioned by Oxford University to protect their systems from hackers. Unfortunately, she has to work closely with Professor Ben Solo, Merton Professor of English Literature who also happens to be Lord Ben Solo, member of the English peerage. And an unmitigated snob.

She drinks coffee. He drinks tea. He only reads classic literature. She reads Marvel comics. He is nobility. She is a nobody.

Things should go swimmingly, shouldn't it?

SO. MUCH. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. I loved the slow burn aspect because I sat in bed because I was waiting for them to bone for so long. And after they bone its a smut and fluff-fest I loved this so much!

And They Were Roommates - Roommates, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

“This isn’t going to work.” He points a finger between the two of them. “This arrangement.”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t put any specifications on who could apply.”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck then, the action making it look longer, making her wonder what it might feel like under her fingers. “You have to know that this isn’t a good idea.”

She knows what he means, she does—but she’s so tired of being brushed aside for her designation that she challenges him anyway. “And why not?”

His eyes bore into hers, his expression blank as he says, “Because I can tell how much scent-block you put on—and I can still smell you.”

In which Rey’s new roommate turns out to be a lot more than she bargained for.

EVEN. MORE. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. Like these two would be eating cereal and I would be chanting, “bone! bone! bone!” the whole time. I loved these two, and the family aspect of this one was so good.

Imprints - A/B/O, Boss/Employee AU - Complete - Rated E - 74k

“I was happy you’ll be working with someone you know. He’ll take good care of you.”

Take good care of you.

The words send a shiver down her spine, sparking memories that flood her with embarrassment. She feels a strange itch just below her ear, her gland giving a phantom pulse as if her body remembers the incident even still.

Suddenly her triumph fades into dread, the idea of working here leaving a hollow pit in her stomach. Poe is still talking, but she doesn’t hear most of it. Her mind is firmly trapped in the vivid memories of six years ago— in a moment she wishes she could forget.

By the time she hangs up the phone— she isn’t sure anymore if she can do this.

Okay so this is pretty popular so I wont say too much, but it lives up to the hype. Smutfest, fluff and angst rolled into one beautiful fic!

Bespoke - Enemies to Lovers, Boss/Employee (?) AU - Complete - Rated E - 38k

When new stylist Rey Jackson receives a request to dress the hottest (and most unfashionable) new actor in Hollywood, she gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Mentally AND physically.

Because Ben Solo is freaking massive.

THIS WAS SO HOT OMG! Smutfest but also super cute. Another “I hate everyone but you” version of Ben I fell in love with. Loved this!

Incognito - Coworkers AU - Complete - Rated E - 30k

“Somehow Rey’s coworkers find out about her Daddy kink. They all kink shame her for it, except her coworker Ben. He has something else in mind.”

This was so funny! Ben and Rey were so cute, and I love Finn and Rose in this too! This was great!

A Home For Christmas - Single Parent, Sugar Daddy AU - Complete - Rated E - 109k

Rey is a struggling single mother who needs to do right by her daughter, even if it means she needs to steal. Ben is sad and lonely, recently divorced for the second time. When Rey's daughter picks him to help her find her mom, their paths cross and their Christmas becomes a little more bright.

This was so freaking cute OMG!! I know I say that a lot, but this was so adorable! I loved Ben and Rey so much, but Nova was obviously the star of the show. I cannot recommend this enough!

Unsuppressed - Office, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

Rey had only ever encountered two Alphas in her entire life that had been unsuppressed. And now this third one that stunk up the entire building. Not that it stunk, his scent. In fact, it was the most delicious thing Rey had ever smelled. ///////////////////////////////////// Ben Solo closed his eyes as he rode down the elevator from the 40th floor to the lobby, trying not to reach up to his glands to scratch them. Somehow, it felt like he always caught the elevator that was dripping in the Omega’s scent. The one that wandered around the building without any suppressants. The one that smelled better than any Omega he had ever smelled before.

STRAIGHT FLUFF AND SMUT OMFG!!! I loved this so freaking much! This was whatever the opposite of unresolved sexual tension and slow burn. Like Ben and Rey tried to make this a slow burn but they could not keep their hands off of each other. I loved this!

Sunshine and Gunpowder - Hitman, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 48k

She’s a teacher who would do anything to protect her student. He’s a glorified hitman with a heart of black gold.

Together, they make up odd halves of a beautiful whole.

THIS WAS SO CUTE!! Like, yes, I know Ben is a hitman, but when I tell you he was the softest hit man I have ever read, Temiri was so cute in this! I loved Ben and Rey, and their UST made me love them even more. Han and Leia are also hilarious in this!

It Takes a Village - A/B/O, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 40k

Who knew that all it would take for Rey Johnson to interact with her enigmatic Alpha neighbor without wanting to melt into a puddle of hormones was a baby being abandoned at her doorstep?

Not her. That was for sure.

THIS IS THE CUTEST ONE YET! I REREAD THIS QUITE OFTEN! LIKE AHHHHHHH SO FREAKING FLUFFY! NOT EVEN A WHISPER OF ANGST AND A LOT OF SMUT I LOVED THIS SO FREAKING MUCH AHHHH! AND THE EPILOGUE MADE ME CRY!

Sensual Storytime - Office AU - Complete - Rated E - 23k

When Rey Johnson starts a new job, her initially antagonistic relationship with Ben Solo from IT turns into friendship... and maybe something more.

Little does she know he also moonlights as Kylo Ren, the creator of her favorite audio erotica. One day at the office, worlds collide, and she realizes the sweater vest-wearing nerd of her dreams is also the tattooed fantasy man she listens to while getting off every night...

THIS IS MY FAVORITE REYLO FIC EVER. I RECOMMEND THIS TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T EVEN LIKE STAR WARS! THIS IS COWORKER BANTER LIKE NO OTHER. AND THE SMUT ? UNPARALLELED. READ THIS NOW!

That is all I have time for right now, but I’ll make another list later if anyone would like that! Please take care of yourself and have a great day!

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spencersawkward · 3 years

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switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 1

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

relationship: fem!OC/Spencer Reid

word count: 3.4k

hi all! welcome to my new story.

I've never written a baby Spence fic before, but I'm gonna try my best. I just wanted to get something out of the way before the book starts:

aside from the fact that it's young Spencer, this book isn't placed in a specific season. I might pull cases from different episodes, but the characters will remain the same. I've included Emily and Rossi as characters because I couldn't bear to have a story without either of them (wouldn't want to subject any of you to a Prentiss-less world).

that's pretty much it. I'm glad you're here. if you wanna read my other stories, my masterlist is here.

happy reading :)

"HA!" I slap my hand down on the pile of cards and slide it towards me, organizing them in a neat pile with a smug expression.

"this game is a sham." Spencer sighs, reaching for his book.

"you're just mad you lost." I raise an eyebrow and shuffle the cards again. "you don't wanna play another round?"

"why would I? the only skill this game requires is fast reflexes." he runs hazel eyes down the page with an alarming quickness. I scoff at his disinterest.

"maybe if you trained those reflexes as much as you trained that big genius brain of yours, you'd get a leg up." Morgan teases from his spot next to me. Spencer glances at him with a frown, his cheeks turning a light pink, before looking to me. I throw up my hands.

"he said it, not me." secretly, I smile at the fact that Derek is backing me up.

"I could beat any of you in poker." Reid defends.

"easily. it helps that I don't even know how to play." I slide the cards back into the holder and cross my arms over my chest with a sigh.

"you don't know how to play poker?" he's shocked.

"I told you, I hate card games like that!" I emphasize. things like poker, blackjack, anything that involves multiple players, I usually don't enjoy much. Emily glances up from her case file with a tiny smirk.

"why?"

"I'm a sore loser." I admit, averting my eyes. there's also the risk factor involved, which includes giving up coins or pretzels or peanuts if I lose. I tend to cling tightly to all three. Prentiss lets out a laugh and Spencer flips the page of his book.

"and winner, apparently."

"you're sassy today, aren't you?" I grin at him, pleasantly surprised.

in the month I've been working here, I haven't spoken to Spencer very much. he's been polite and I've gotten to know his intellect quite well, but he doesn't spend a lot of time with us outside of work. when we go out to get drinks, he either declines or heads home before we can even ask, a bag full of books pressed to his side.

I think he just takes a while to get comfortable around new people-- that's what JJ said when I asked why he seemed to be avoiding me. the fact that he played cards with me today felt like a victory in itself, so I'll take what I can get.

Spencer doesn't reply to my dig, only crosses his long, narrow legs and settles into his book.

"we should start briefing before we land." Hotch and Rossi walk over from their spots at the front of the plane to sit on the couch by our table. I nod eagerly and watch as Emily flips open her laptop to FaceTime Penelope about the case.

the first couple cases were more difficult than I expected because I had never worked in the field before joining the BAU, but I'm starting to get used to flying around constantly and examining actual dead bodies. working sex crimes meant I spent most of my time in front of a computer screen or just staying in the office. this is incredibly different-- which I'm starting to find might not to be a bad thing.

"--the virus killed her hard drive and left that on the screen." Penelope explains, referring to the picture of Heather Woodland's computer.

"'for heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more. I cannot control myself'." Morgan reads the message aloud from the case file. the words feel familiar in my mind and I try to remember where I've heard them before.

"that's exactly what William Heirens left behind." Spencer sparks the memory. I sit up straighter.

"the Lipstick Killer?" my fingertips trace over the case details. it's a weird aspect of the murder to emulate, especially because he didn't even leave the message in lipstick. I guess he's not really concerned with that; based on the unsub's previous victims, we have just under 36 hours to find her.

"his first victim was Melissa Kirsh, 26," Reid scratches his nose as he reads, frowning so hard that I start to think he'll form permanent wrinkles. he's got such a baby face, it's almost funny. "stab wounds, strangulation."

"so he stabbed her first, and then strangled her to finish the job?" Morgan repeats.

"what's with using a belt for the second murder?" Emily flips through the papers, confused. Spencer stiffens in his spot as he realizes this is the perfect time to share his freakishly expansive forensic knowledge.

"strangulation with your bare hands actually isn't as easy as you would believe. he probably tried it, found that it took too long, then stabbed her. and blood takes a long time to clean, so he decided a belt would be more efficient."

"he's perfecting his method." I can't tear my eyes away from the photos, despite the roiling sensation they put in my stomach. even with the things I've already seen, I don't think I'll ever get over photographs like this.

"we'll be landing soon and then we're meeting up with the Seattle field office. be ready to split up once we hit the ground." Hotch snaps shut his case file and stands up, breaking off to go sit alone. Rossi takes note of the old card deck that sits on the table.

"poker?" he looks between the four of us.

"nope." Emily chuckles.

"this one doesn't know how to play." Morgan gestures to me, causing Rossi to turn to me.

"were you raised in a barn?" he asks in his usual manner of speaking: blunt sarcasm with a hint of mockery. I frown sarcastically.

"something like that."

"at some point this week, we'll sit down and I'll teach you." he gets up, pats my shoulder, and walks over to join Hotch. I lower my voice once he's far enough away.

"is he actually gonna make me do that?"

"you don't know Rossi." Morgan shakes his head slowly, slides his headphones back on, and sinks into his seat.

"I'll join and bring JJ with me." Emily winks at me reassuringly, noting the tapping of my nail against the surface of the table. Rossi is a legend in the field and I've read all of his books, but didn't want to freak him out by telling him so. it was embarrassing enough when I met him and got tongue-tied while shaking his hand. he's got an elusive energy that intimidates me, and I'd prefer not to showcase that by humiliating myself with poker.

instead of dwelling on thoughts of how I'm going to fail in front of my idol, I open up one of my books and try to pass the time.

...

while I'm writing some notes on one of the many white boards scattered throughout the field office, I realize that I'm one of four other women in the room, including Emily. she's talking to Hotch and another agent at the opposite end of the room; Reid is unpacking his signature book bag and seems deep in thought. Rossi is reading a document. everyone around me seems to be in a hurry to do something, and I begin to feel dumb.

"you okay?" Morgan asks me. I realize that I've been standing with my marker hovering over the board. my fingertips press into my temple before I turn to him.

"yeah, definitely. just thinking." my mind travels to the map we've got pasted up and the red marker lines that Spencer has already created with the geographical profile.

"looks like we're getting the classic Seattle treatment." Derek points outside to the rain pelting the windows, streaming down the glass and distorting the glow of the city outside. it's gloomy today, with a slight chill running through the streets. I nod and turn back to my task, suddenly realizing something.

"he's willing to travel with the body." I mutter to myself. Morgan steps up next to me, crosses his arms across his chest.

"he must drive a vehicle that can conceal one, then." he glances over to Hotch to see what the unit chief has to say, but Spencer speaks up first.

"one in seven point four drivers in Seattle owns an SUV." it's like a flip switches at the mention of a statistic, diverting his attention from something nebulous in his mind to the tangible case. he's a little similar to a robot.

"an Explorer with tinted windows?" Morgan speaks again as he looks over the case photos.

"those rate higher among women." Spencer again.

"sure, but how do we know it's his car?" I wonder.

"what about a Jeep Cherokee?" Hotch chimes in, almost startling me with the deep register of his voice. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth as I think on it.

"Jeeps are more masculine." Reid comes close to me in order to examine the picture I'm holding. he smells like clean laundry and some nice soap scent that I can't place. maybe it's the gel he uses to slick back his hair. no cologne or aftershave. I don't think he'd need to shave, what with his smooth baby face.

Spencer has some special quirks that make him a little more interesting. he usually avoids physical contact with other people-- doesn't shake hands-- but at other times, he doesn't seem to have self-awareness. like right now, where the shoulder of his red sweater is just barely touching mine. I hand him the picture and step away.

"unsubs love to assert their masculinity."

Hotch nods along, encouraging me to share more of what I'm thinking. after swallowing down a lingering nervousness, I tap the push pin marking where the last body was dumped. "he dropped her out-of-state, so he probably has a previous knowledge of law enforcement. maybe he's got a criminal record?"

"good, Williams." Hotch praises me. my fist clenches triumphantly at my side as he turns to the agent who has been watching us intently. "when do we meet with your task force?"

"four." the man replies. I balk at this, my posture shifting. the shortest time constraint I've ever had here has been a full day. it's already one in the afternoon.

"you want an accurate profile by four today?" I glance between Morgan and Spencer, but the latter is rocking back and forth on his heels with his eyes glued to the white board. Morgan doesn't seem put off by it.

"we can do that." Hotch scowls, snapping shut the case file with a finality that tells me we're about to split up. "Dave and Morgan, head to the last dump site. Williams, Reid, I want you to talk to Heather's brother and try to find out what you can about her life. Prentiss and I will stay here in case of new developments."

I nod curtly, grab my jacket, and glance over at Spencer. he runs his hand over his hair, although I can't imagine what there is to smooth down, then walks over to me.

"you ready to go?" I ask, brandishing the file. he and I have only done two interviews together; I spent most of my beginning weeks working with Emily to get a feel for the job. both times with the boy genius have been fine, if not a little awkward.

he nods in answer to my question. "would you mind driving?"

"no license?" I tease to lighten the mood, but he doesn't get the joke. instead, he frowns at me with something of a distracted expression, adjusts his bag.

"no, I don't like driving in the rain."

"oh," I recover quickly and put a friendly smile on my face. "no problem."

"thanks." he walks ahead of me and I cringe at my own behavior. he acts so differently from earlier on the jet that I start to wonder if I did something wrong. maybe he's just in his head or something; I know I would be if I had an IQ that enormous.

when we get to the house of Heather Woodland's brother, a gorgeous golden lab greets us in the entryway. she puts her paws up on my legs and I reach down to scratch behind her ears with a smile on my face.

"Sandy, calm down." her owner grabs her collar gently to calm her. "sorry."

"no, it's fine, I love dogs." I wave it off and step inside. Spencer is eyeing Sandy warily, but she seems just as eager to say hi to him as she was to me. when she lets out a singular, enthusiastic bark, he startles.

"Mr. Woodland," I suppress my laugh by changing the subject. "I'm Special Agent Williams and this is Special Agent Dr. Reid."

we shake hands, my colleague giving his usual wave and polite smile. the interviewee takes in Spencer's appearance. I know what's coming.

"you look too young for medical school." Woodland says to Reid. this has happened a couple times since I joined the team, but Spencer never seems to mind. if anything, he lights up at the opportunity to share the reason for his official title.

"they're PhD's. three of them." he gives a little smile as we walk into the house, me shaking a few stray raindrops from my hair.

"so... are you a genius or something?" Heather's brother leads us past the hallway into the living room, which is unkempt and littered with pictures, catalogs, and toys. he must have kids in school right now. that would also explain the breed of dog.

"I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified."

"he's being modest," I glance over at Spencer. "Dr. Reid can read 20,000 words a minute-- he's definitely a genius."

Woodland stares at Spencer for a second as he tries to fathom the speed at which someone's mind would have to turn in order to process all that information. I still can't imagine it. Spencer's eyes avoid Woodland's shyly. instead, he watches me as I pet Sandy.

soon after, we ask him about Heather's personality and tendencies. her brother is more than willing to give us all the information we need. I'm surprised, however, by my partner's ease at wandering around Woodland's house, flipping through the magazines on top of the TV and reading the spines of books on shelves. he's quite conspicuous about it.

about halfway through my mental list of questions, Sandy keeps jumping up and wagging her til.

"I'm gonna take her to the backyard quick," Woodland tells us. "one second."

he ducks out of the room and I wait until I know he's out of earshot before sidling up beside Reid.

"there's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller," he tells me, holding up a Datsun Z catalog. we know that she was in the market for one. "if I want to coax a young woman into my car..."

"offer her a test drive." I finish his sentence. of course, within ten minutes of sifting through this woman's house, Spencer has figured out the ruse used to lure her. Woodland returns a moment later with a smile, but we tell him that we've gotten the information we need before leaving.

in the car, Spencer theorizes about the unsub's mental condition as I try to navigate traffic in the storm. thunder rumbles overhead, occasionally sending a vibration through the car. my knuckles tighten around the wheel a bit. I also hate driving in the rain. his rambles fills the silence, however, and somewhat soothe my nerves.

"he doesn't have the MO of a paranoid psychotic. dumping the bodies out in the open, with a weapon nearby... that doesn't align."

"he covers their eyes with duct tape multiple times over, though. he knows he's going to kill them, but he doesn't want them to see his face?" my fingertips drum over the wheel nervously.

"what's wrong?" Spencer asks suddenly, glancing at my hands and then at my face. I still my movements at the change in subject.

"huh? nothing. I just don't like driving in the rain, either."

"oh. I'm sorry." he straightens a bit in his seat. the apology surprises me a little, but he seems genuinely sympathetic. I guess I really don't know him that well.

"it's cool."

we fall into an awkward silence and I bite my lip. we should get back to talking about the case. heaven knows Spencer has more facts to spew, more theories to share about this unsub. anything is better than the gap in conversation. I open my mouth to say more about what we learned at the house, except Spencer speaks first.

"so... how are you liking working here?" he asks awkwardly. it takes a second for the question to register with me. he sounds uncomfortable whenever we're alone and that makes me uncomfortable in turn. where everyone else was quick to include me in their jokes and discussions, Reid always sounds like talking to me exhausts him. it's obvious that he's socially awkward. there's no judgement from me; I'm just surprised that he's pushing to talk about non work-related subjects.

"I like it," not really an accurate summation. I don't think a heart-to-heart is exactly the right move when talking to him. "a little stressful, though."

"you worked in sex crimes before, right?" he looks out the window. there isn't much to see except for the rain-blurred skyline. I nod.

"yep."

"that sounds... hard." he shifts in his seat as he tries to come up with more points of conversation. it's kind of endearing, honestly. I throw him a bone.

"so is profiling."

"why'd you switch?" his eyes flit over to mine as he quickly adds, "if you don't mind me asking."

I take a second to come up with an answer. of course, there's the classic response: I've always wanted to help people— which isn't wrong— it's also not the whole answer. all through college and the Academy, I had my head focused on one thing. I could interview killers and get inside their heads, but there's something entirely different that you don't get from pure research. and one person inspired that in me before I had finished high school.

"don't tell him I said this, but I really wanted to work with Rossi." I say in a hushed tone. there's a slight smile on my lips because I haven't told anyone on the team in fear of being teased. I don't think Spencer is likely to gossip with Rossi about me, though.

"really?" now he sounds surprised.

"I've read all his books and I've been to a couple lectures. he doesn't remember me, evidently." the thought is more funny than embarrassing. he spoke at my college a few years back and I recall being on the edge of my seat, trying to come up with the courage to ask the questions that filled my head. I was too shy.

"does he know you're a fan?" Spencer loosens up a bit.

"nope," we pull off the freeway as we near the field office. I stop at a red light and look over. "I didn't want to embarrass myself with the whole 'your work changed my life' spiel."

at this, Spencer lets out a short, nervous giggle. it's a nice sound, that laugh. it makes me smile when he seems to relax in his seat.

"that's exactly what I did." he says. I frown.

"you told him his books changed your life?" I blush as I realize I just inadvertently made fun of him.

"I, um... well, I got excited to talk about his research." he averts his gaze again and his cheeks turn a slight pink. there's a dimple in his cheek, I notice, that keeps tugging upward. this is my first time having a non-forced moment with Spencer alone; a wave of satisfaction washes over me as I realize the potential for another friend here.

"trust me, I get it." I laugh. we pull into the parking ramp for the field office and I find a spot by the door. Spencer hoists that bag into his lap and runs his hand through his hair. when I pull the key out of the ignition, he waits for me to get out of the car before we start walking toward the door.

it's small, but I appreciate that he doesn't run off without me. we don't talk as we walk, our footsteps echoing along the cement walls.

oh my god first chapter holy fuck! it's short, but I don't wanna overwhelm. I'm so excited for this book!

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #dr. reid #criminal minds #mgg #fanfic #fanfiction #wattpad #friends to lovers #BAU #slow burn

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu fanfics recs for ships

Okay so I'm in the middle of making fanfic rec posts when I thought maybe I should make a post for the fics everyone considers a 'staple' for the fic world LOL. Honestly, I don't actually know what is considered to be a classic fic at this point ngl LOL but these are some that people keep shoving into my face even after being stuck in fic hell for enough (too much) time :) But also these are basically just the top kudoed (is that allowed grammatically?) fics on AO3 for Haikyuu, just with my commentary LOL so for a mess free approach, just check AO3 ;') It'll be one or two MAJOR fics per ship and if you want more check out my other TBDone (as in I haven't finished them yet) posts LOL.

DISCLAIMER: Anything I say that is not necessarily positive about a fic doesn't mean I'm hating on it, it's just that it isn't my cup of tea (ie. my type of fic). Also I apologize in advance for the excessive usage of the term 'LOL' in this (and ALL) my posts. It's just who I am as a person LOL.

Caution: always check warning and tags before anything and don't put your mental health at risk for a fic PLEASE take care of yourselves!

BOKUAKA:

In Another Life by LittleLuxray (T) 23k // this is literally the #1 kudoed (can I do that?) thing on AO3 for good reason. People do not and will not shut up about this fic and honestly, I don't blame them LOL. Again, I'm begging you to read warnings and tags because there's some heavy stuff in this and it WILL make you sad sad sad.

IWAOI:

to be first, to be best by kittebasu (chanyeol) (T) 26.4k // okay I think I've read this fic like 3 times already, but the plot never sticks with me LOL. Not cause it's a bad fic, but because I have a crap memory LOLOLOL. Regardless, I know it's a good fic because like I said I managed to re-read on 2 separate occasions so yea.

Conquering the Great King by SuggestiveScribe (E) 105.6k // I LOVE THIS SERIES AHHHHHHHHH. Honestly I know the 105.6k word count is SCARY I UNDERSTAND BUT it is SO worth it. This is the first fic of the series and it's mainly IWAOI, but there are other ships too so if IWAOI isn't your thing, check for the other ships :) Also if you don't mind smut (cause it is explicit for a reason LOL) then please I beg of you to read the whole series!!!!!!! I love love love this one and it really got me invested in the whole fanfic thing LOL.

DAISUGA:

You'd fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder (G) 25.1k // THIS IS SO FLUFFFFFFFFFFF. Please, it nearly gave me cavities LOLOL. As a dare you should read the DAISUGA from SuggestiveScribe (specifically from the breaking the rules series) and then read this I think that'd be funny LOL. Imagine going to the opposite ends of the DAISUGA spectrum in the same day LOL.

KUROKEN:

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony (T) 30.9k // AHHHHHHHH. Anyway, if you can't handle DEATH or sad sad sad things rn (or ever for that matter) plsplspls do NOT read this one!!!! It really made me so sad! But if you love some great character progression, knock yourself out :)))))

KAGEHINA:

I like the way your clothes smell by Mysecretfanmoments (NR) 75.2k // I think this is one of the only fics I've read for this ship... LOL oops idk something about reading relationships between first year's in high school irks me.... just first year's in Haikyuu dating at any time.... Anyways I don't really remember reading this one (again my memory is crap LOL) but it had been recommended by people before so knock yourselves out LOL. Also this one doesn't have a rating, but it's got some explicit-ish stuff in it, so read tags and warnings for sure!

TSUKKIYAMA:

by any other name by parenthetic (renaissance) (T) 4.8k // as much as I love tsukkiyama I don't read a lot of their fics for some reason (LOL OOPS) but this one hit all the right spots. The way yams is done, with his amazing facial reading abilities, and the way tsukki is so oblivious was so GOOD!

There will be a part two for some more ships. Link to part 2 with more ships :)

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Text

Team Bonding

fr when was the last time i posted like,,, a fic on here. like a tumblr fic. damn. anyway. ummmmmmmm this is just your.... typical steve freaks out and the avengers are awesome um yah ok ok

warnings: panic attack, vomiting (basically steve watches the titanic and doesnt have a very fun time)

word count: 2575

If Steve was being brutally honest with himself, he was fucking tired of hearing about “the classics”. Irrelevant people butting their noses into his business, tipping him off to what movies were, “the best of the best!” and “absolute must sees!” He appreciated what they were trying to do, but after a while, it felt like people were more or less just trying to garner a slice of his 21st century experience, and quite frankly, he liked doing things better by himself. It was much more appealing to park himself in front of his laptop, nothing but his own quietude to keep him company as he combed through different wikipedia rabbit holes and caught up on movies and TV shows that were apparently crucial to his very existence.

Most were subpar and honestly, he preferred the copious amounts of popcorn he treated himself to on these solo date nights, but some things surprised him. Like Indiana Jones. He liked Indiana Jones. He was neat, and Marion reminded him vaguely of Peggy.

Still, he supposed he should have seen it coming when Clint came to collect him from his floor one evening, that sort of eager-puppy energy he carried around with him vaguely prickling the back of Steve’s neck.

“C’mon, man,” he was saying. Steve leaned against the door jamb, tired. He was going to concede, but Clint was rambling and Steve knew better than to interrupt him. “It’s, like, certifiably the best love story ever. You need to watch it--”

And there it was again. That fucking claim. You need to watch this! You haven’t seen that?

No. He hadn’t. He’d been a little busy, you know, being dead.

“--And the acting is all so raw and it’s just-- Leo DiCaprio-- you know who that--”

“--Yes. I saw Blood Diamond--”

“--Oh, you did? Well, anyway, he rocks in this and--”

“Clint,” Steve cut him off smoothly. “I’ll come, don’t sweat it too hard.”

Clint looked positively elated. “You will?” he exclaimed. “Awesome, yeah, it’s gonna be the whole team. I mean, that’s good right? You’re cool with that? You gotta be, you’re the one who mentioned team bonding that one time--”

“Yes,” Steve cut in again. “I’m alright with that. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right down?” He was still in his gym clothes from two hours ago. He meant to take a shower, but he’d sort of… ran out of energy. The sweat had cooled by now anyway. He smelled fine.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Which was how Steve found himself in a pair of sweatpants and an old SHIELD t-shirt, squashed in between Natasha and Bruce on the communal couch. Someone had handed him a huge bowl of popcorn and Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that it was flavored with some sort of cheese powder.

“White cheddar,” Bruce said, holding up a little blue shaker bottle when he heard Steve’s appreciative hum. “They’re, uh, sort of like seasoning, but for popcorn specifically. They come in all different kinds of flavors.”

“Oh, neat,” Steve said, around another handful of popcorn. He liked Bruce. He seemed to get Steve in that quiet, brutally raw sort of way. A quiet kinship. They didn’t talk about it, but he never made him feel condescended, so Steve decided that was okay.

“I think I fixed it!” Tony said, stepping out from behind the ginormous movie screen where, presumably, he’d been fixing a volume problem. The screen had been frozen on the first frame of the movie for nearly ten minutes. “Okay, okay, let’s see…” he pressed play. Music poured through the speakers on either side of the TV, loud enough so that everyone cringed and Steve nearly dropped the popcorn bowl in his haste to cover his ears. He always managed to forget how damn loud the world could be when he let himself get comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tony hissed, turning the volume down to a much more tolerable level. “Okay, there. Okay, shh everyone. Gotta let Capsicle--”

“--Just Steve, Tony--”

“--Gotta let Just Steve get the full experience.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but settled in to watch.

The film was honestly better than Steve had been expecting, if not a little… itchy in that way period films tended to be for him. The themes of poverty and love were pretty well-rounded, but they hit just close enough that he almost cringed at the far-fetch’d beauty of it.

Still, his fingers itched for a pencil as Jack guided a pencil over the worn sheaf of paper. The dim light, the faint scratch of the pencil, the forbidden love. It was familiar. Steve could almost smell the salty City air, afternoons spent under the dim lights of candles so they could see even with the curtains drawn-- a semblance of privacy amongst the compact vulnerability of his and Bucky’s shitty little tenement.

Draw me like one of your french girls, Rose had said, and Steve’s eyes drifted towards the wall, Bucky’s voice echoing through his head.

“‘Course I want you to draw me. I ain’t denying my vanity, Stevie,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “Pal, you could draw a stick of butter and I’d still wanna watch. It ain’t about me here.”

There was a soft touch to his arm and Steve blinked out of his reverie. Natasha was watching him, a neutral look on her face that Steve had finally learned to recognize as concern. He shook his head minutely, offering her a smile. She nodded and looked back at the TV.

The rest of the movie passed without much excitement. The acting was pretty good and Steve had even gotten to a point where he could recognize the filmmaking as something like revolutionary for the time it came out. He was quicker on the cultural uptake than people gave him credit for, but that was neither here nor there. He laughed with everyone else, let himself grow somber when the atmosphere lent that mood, and generally, it was a nice time. He hadn’t gone to any movie nights before this, but he thought maybe he’d start going to more.

And then the ship hit the iceberg.

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Obviously, he knew of the Titanic-- he knew, historically, what happened to it. But for some reason, it hadn’t quite hit him while watching the movie that he was going to have to see the catastrophe go down.

There was a loud creaking of ice on metal as the collision occurred on screen and Steve felt himself go still-- body rigid and tense as the deafening noise played through the speakers. His heart slammed in his chest and he felt his palms start to sweat. He knew that sound-- he knew that--

--He blinked, shaking his head. Movie. Watch the movie. There was a panicked scramble on screen. Characters rushing to amend the situation, more metal creaking and groaning and breaking as dark, foamy water broke through the sides of the ship and Steve could taste it, he could taste the water flooding into the cabin, hitting him from the left as it took the plane down in a harsh--

--He twitched, shaking his head. He was being silly. There were moments of reconciliation as the scenes rapidly flashed between water flooding the ships cabins and peaceful moments of civility. A calm before the storm. A final dance before death.

I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance…

There was a sudden crash as water blasted through into the work quarters and Steve jumped, watching transfixed as unforgiving torrents pushed workers over, flooding them, drowning them, and they were falling, slipping, sliding, panicking as certain death met them at the halfway point, and Steve knew it must be cold. So cold. Suffocating and unforgiving as it flooded their lungs, saltier than they probably imagined, heavy and awful and--

“Stark, turn the movie off.”

The room went abruptly silent. Steve realized his eyes were closed, chest heaving as he sat, hunched over his lap, hands fisted in his hair.

The popcorn wasn’t on his lap anymore. When had he moved? He couldn’t breathe and he was so cold and someone needed to save those guys, someone needed to--

“Steve,” a gentle voice cut into the roaring waves crashing in his head. Bruce. That was Bruce speaking. “Can you hear me, Steve?”

Steve nodded, pulling his hair harder. He couldn’t breathe. Was he drowning again? Surely that was impossible. If Bruce was talking to him, he couldn’t be drowning again, but-- but the water-- and-- and the cold--

“Good, that’s good, Steve,” Bruce. Bruce again. It was Bruce. “Can I touch you?”

Touch. Touch. No touch. He was so cold. He wanted to stop being cold, but he was certain if someone touched him right now, he would lose his goddamn mind. More so than he already had.

“That’s alright,” Bruce sounded steady. Calm. So calm. Why couldn’t Steve calm down? “That’s okay. You think you can do something for me?”

Something… for Bruce? Could he? Could he do anything right then? If he couldn’t breathe, how could he do anything-- and he-- he felt sick--

He opened his mouth to answer and vomited between his feet, straight onto the carpet. Someone in the room hissed sympathetically. Steve wanted to crawl somewhere and die.

“Oh, Steve,” Bruce seemed to be talking mostly to himself, but Steve felt his shoulders climb higher towards his ears. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to my voice. Just listen. I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe in time with my instruction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve shook his head, choking on a sob. His chest hurt. Like someone had taken all of his ribs and replaced them with weights, flooding his lungs with-- with water-- and fuck, now he was thinking about the plane again. He felt his breathing tick up higher.

“I want you to try,” Bruce said. “With me. In,” he sucked in a breath. “One… two… three… four…”

Steve tried to suck in a breath, but all he managed to do was send himself into a coughing fit. Bruce kept counting. Steve wanted to tell him to wait-- slow down-- shut up--

He braced a hand over his chest.

Bruce was still counting.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he found himself matching Bruce’s counts, eyes closed and the heels of his palms braced on his temples as he sucked in greedy, measured breaths. His heart was still slamming hard enough to make him tremble and he could smell his own sick wafting up from the ground, but at least he was breathing on his own.

Bruce trailed off. Silence hung thick in the air, the only noise Steve’s slow, shaking breaths. Shame burned around his ears. He didn’t dare look up.

Tony, predictably, was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said, and Steve was surprised to hear honest regret in his voice. “I was the one who suggested we watch Titanic. I should have thought for more than two seconds about that…”

Steve shrugged. Embarrassment climbed from his stomach to his throat, threatening to choke him.

Natasha spoke next. “Why don’t you go wash up?” It was an escape-- a way out-- and Steve took it graciously, keeping his head ducked down as he stood on shaking legs and rushed to the communal bathroom.

Inside, he locked the door and braced himself over the sink, splashing warm water on his face. He drank greedily from the tap. His reflection looked like shit-- he’d burst some blood vessels in his eyes, probably while vomiting, and his skin looked sallow and pale. He was trembling, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looked how he looked after a nightmare. This, he supposed, had kind of been like a nightmare. Though, he hadn’t been asleep.

Nightmares, he was finding, weren’t strictly exclusive to the nighttime.

He supposed he’d always known that, though.

He closed his eyes, bowing his head again.

His emotions had been fucked to high hell since waking up from the ice. This hadn’t been the first of those awful… fits, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last, but to have something like that happen in front of the team was a whole new level of mortifying. Fuck. He’d gotten sick. And he’d left it.

He felt the ceramic counter straining under his grip. Scowling, he let go.

He could slip off to his room, lock himself away until he could find some way to sneak out of the Tower and never talk to any of the others ever again. Even in this state, Steve knew that wasn’t viable in any sense. He sighed. Besides, he couldn’t just damn the others to clean up his mess.

Stowing his pride, he dug some spare mouthwash out from behind the mirror and chugged some straight down, keeping a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting it in the sink. He still felt and looked like shit, but at least his breath would smell like wintergreen.

The others were still gathered in the communal living room, watching what looked like a kid’s cartoon on TV. There was a distinct smell of cleaner in the air and Steve’s eyes landed on the ground where he’d gotten sick. It was clean. He let his eyes drop to the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The cartoon paused. He didn’t look at any of them. “I was going to clean up.”

“Nah, man, the only thing worse than freaking out is having to clean up after yourself while you still feel shitty,” Clint said, and Steve looked up. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Tony said. “Sucks, but hey, least we know now that Titanic is a no-no for you.”

Steve flushed, swallowing a few times. “Um, I guess,” he looked at Bruce. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled. “No problem,” he said gently. “We’re watching Phineas and Ferb if you’d like to join us, but we understand if you’d like to go rest.”

“Phineas and Ferb?” Steve asked, guilt replaced with genuine confusion.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “It’s my go-to when I have a bad day. Nothing like some good old platypus drama to cure life’s woes.”

Steve blinked. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Join us, man! Don’t gotta talk if you’re not feeling it, but being alone after shit like that sucks.”

And Steve hadn’t had someone there for him after a breakdown-- not since the war. Not since Bucky. Every ounce of him wanted to run. Hide. Smooth out his face and slip on that mask of stoicism. But maybe… maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could let himself have this, if only this once.

“Sure,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He awkwardly sat back in between Natasha and Bruce.

Tony pressed play again and Steve smoothed his hands over his thighs, feeling out of place and a little cramped and--

Natasha settled, casually letting her feet rest on his lap. On his other side, Bruce leaned into his shoulder, a subtle, grounding pressure. Clint caught his eye and offered him some more popcorn.

Steve relaxed.

Yeah. He could let himself have this.

thanks for reading, chiefs

yeah this was chatted about in one of the awesome discord groups im in so thanks guyysss lol

#marvel shit #marvel #Steve Rogers #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #Avengers #team bonding #yes #avengers fic #i love them all #dlakjfl #ok #crawling back into my hole #im definitely supposed to be doing homework

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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thejudgingtrash · 4 years

Text

Last but not least: PJO hot takes part IV!

Alright my dudes. I think we’re still in this game for one final round. Anyway here’s wonderwall. And Part 1//Part 2//Part 3!

Percy had actually knowledge about the Greek myths. He didn’t waddle in blindly. Where did y’all even get that?

The new possible Irish myth saga will be PJO 3.0 aka Magnus Chase 2.0 aka The Kane Chronicles 1.2.

Riordan already got the names of gods of that possible saga wrong

Riordan‘s Asian characters only know bitch or bland mode, huh

Stop babying Annabeth for fucks sake. Seriously

How the fuck did Sally afford several private schools for Percy when they were poor as fuck? I guess Gabe had to have a some somewhat decent job but then again playing poker/being a gambler and stealing from your stepson ain’t a cute move

Hazel should’ve been Thanatos‘ kid. To break the classic 12 Olympian mold (yeah Hades/Pluto technically isn’t one but he’s still team major gods) and also to throw the damned Hitler/Pluto aesthetics away

Did any of the kids break their limps or get permanently disabled at some point? Or do they just... die (and mostly stay dead)? I forgot

Where can the kids at Camp Half-Blood actually sneak off to fuck? Percy is legit the only one to claim his own shit as his love bunker. The rest is just fucked I guess or has first hand traumatic pre-college experiences

”Percy cursed“. Literally why, Riordan. Let the kid say fuck. He has earned the rights to do so a long time ago

Did I mention that people lack of basic reading skills in earlier takes? Anyway. Here’s another reminder!

Tbh the gods are egotistical fucks and have killed people for the fuck of it. I don’t see Poseidon being even close to okay with Sally marrying Gabe or Paul

I still don’t understand why Frazel is a thing

Most of you don’t understand how movie production works but that’s okay. Just know that everything inside your head will never be realized and there will be drastic cuts and additions to the books (again)

The electronics not working thing doesn’t even make any goddamn sense? Hermes is the god of the Internet. Does this mean that demigods can use the web just fine but simply can’t call each other? This really came back to bite Riordan in the ass now did it? Wouldn’t it make more sense to use old means of communication once you’re trying to reach more important/godly people or electronics fail in an accute situation?

Turning everyone heteroflexible creates the image that you’re simply liking a character for the fact that they are LGBTQ and not the character itself, just saying. More representation sure, but that itself isn’t a personality trait and shouldn’t be the main focus of a character unless it’s really defining in the story line (Nico‘s arc partially for example)

Tbh, HOO should’ve been aged up mentor Percabeth protecting CHB, with the rest of the gang fucking up Greece with aged Reyna + Nico perhaps. I might post an outline on that AU someday (someone should remind me about that tho)

On one hand you have in depth discussions and people diving into the matter and talking about every nook and cranny and on the other hand people are more then just fine with stereotyping and deflecting. Whut. Okay

Why are people shipping the lie that is Jasper/Jasiper

Stop romanticizing the gods

Dark!Percy is just a cheap way for you to turn Percy into an overpowered asshole and that’s that tea

Being in a relationship isn’t a personality trait, my dear shippers

Riordan‘s timeline is off because the coke rush didn’t last that long

The wasted potential of everything past PJO makes me want to cry

Percy’s fatal flaw isn’t stupid, Riordan just didn’t flesh it out properly which is why there were no real repercussions. A fatal flaw is supposed to be hindering you and not a compliment

The fact that adult people still can’t take jokes about their favorite characters is fucking insane part II

Why the fuck did the Stolls get tossed aside? Bruh. The potential? The stigma as a Hermes kid? They trying to redeem their cabins honor? Imagine one of them as a prophecy kid in HOO (and they’d switch and swap to confuse everyone)? Yes??

Every single one of you that essentially is team poc!Percy because he had a rough upbringing deserves to get slapped. Poverty, abuse, a single parent, etc. doesn’t equate to being poc?!?!? Smells racist just saying

Turning Hazel into Nico‘s sister was cheap af

Stop romanticizing and down playing the myth aspect. Tragedy is essential and will haunt demigods. Thank you, next

Also stop babying Percy

Let’s be honest none of those fuckers make it to college

Annabeth Chase is fucking WHITE part II. She’s not biracial, she’s not ”exotic“, she’s certainly not fucking black. She’s white with a little hint of a tan. That still makes her white. Do you really want to turn her into Ariana Grande 2.0? A fucking botched orange? This is your Annabeth aesthetic? Artists get it fucking right unless you state that you portray her as [spraytan headcanon] which is still fucking cheap let’s be real. Orange Annabeth isn’t part of the kulture

Regardless of the reception of the PJO movies, I’ll never forgive you people for letting Logan Lerman aka the OG white boy™ flop. Throw Tom “lipless but okay booty“ Holland and Timothée ”I missed a few meals“ Chalamet the fuck away!

Tbh a less romanticized version of the camps would’ve been more interesting. I’m still put off by CJ (and also the fact that CHB is a summer camp), but had there been more fights and actual deaths that had happened around the camps due to training, etc. you would’ve understood immediately why demigods dipped before the age of 18. The antithetical nature of sweet summer camp and people dying left and right would’ve been amplified

Did Reyna at some point in time even have the time to breath with all of the shit that went down? Her life is simply 24/7 stressful. I get that she wanted to bounce and no longer be in a tiring and demanding position but the hunters ain’t it sis

It’s okay to admit that fanon artwork or fanfics don’t deserve the webspace they are wasting. But phrase that probably in a nicer way

PJO Calypso wasn’t annoying. HOO & TOA Calypso on the other hand...

Alex Pettyfer would’ve been a better Luke Castellan but Jake Abel did an okay job

Percy isn’t an idiot. You are one for believing so

Riordan corrected the stance that Muslims don’t shower during Ramadan (literally how in the fuck did he come up with that in the first place?!) in upcoming MC books. Can he use the same energy to rewrite HOO tho??

Luke’s portrayals in SoM and TTC were straight up trash

Historically accurate PJO would’ve been everything

Monsters can detect demigods by smell. Camo wouldn’t do jack shit ffs

Jason is still bland and making jokes/pointing that out is more than okay

Omfg accept the fact that characters can have multiple facets all good and bad. Reducing them to one specific trait makes them boring and bland. Also it stereotypes

Getting mad over the fact that Clarisse has a boyfriend is still fucking insane

Not everyone needs to be a fanfic writer or an artist, a theorist or someone that analyzes everything phrase by phrase. As long as you’re in the fandom to enjoy works & discussions and remain on the saner side of the spectrum you’re good. You’re valid. Don’t forget that.

Not wanting to stay in a fandom and merely enjoying some of the fruits/benefits as in art/fics/headcanons is also super valid

PJO Reddit, Tumblr, IG and Twitter are a cesspool of chaotic mess and straight up trash but Tumblr > Reddit >>>>>> IG >>>>>> Twitter

Tbh: just try to enjoy a decent book series. It’s all not that deep

#pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #jason grace #hazel levesque #piper mclean #frank zhang #luke castellan #nico di angelo #reyna ramirez arellano #hoo #toa #pjo hot takes

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horrorhot-line · 3 years

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Do you have any writing tips Coz i rlly like your writing ❤😭

This one took a while to answer because of how much I had to say. (Please keep in mind that I am in no way telling you to follow these tips, take whatever you think will work for you and discard what doesn't, okay?)

Alright, first things first, I've been writing on and off for the past seven years, and I can say for a fact that I've definitely improved since my first fic (which was on paper, we don't talk about it). The following tips are what works for me, and what I believe has helped me become better at writing.

Remember, fanfiction is supposed to be self-indulgent, and therefore you are entitled to write whatever you like because it's your work, so you don’t have to follow any of these tips if you don’t feel like it.

Proofreading, making sense & grammar

Grammar and punctuation make a huge difference. You could have an amazing story, but bad grammar can make that piece of work flop. Stories are supposed to be immersive, but if there are too many mistakes or the words don't make sense, it can ruin it for a reader. (I don't mean your garden variety missing letters, I mean something like 'an he and her goes and u were like oh no'.) I can't name the amount of time I've started to read something online and ditched it because the grammar irks me (your instead of you're, their instead of they're and so on). I've seen a lot of fanfiction writers also switch between past tense, present tense and future tense in the same paragraph, which makes it hard to understand what's happening.

If you're trying to post and have it get attention, please do check your work to make sure it makes sense. Write down everything first, don't correct anything, and once you're done writing the scene, go back to proofread the whole thing. Get someone to read it for you and point out mistakes or things that don't make sense, if you can.

If you can't, then there are alternatives. There's 'text to speech', where you can copy and paste what you've written down onto a website, and it will read the text out loud to you. It works the best (for me anyway). There's also grammarly, which is kind of similar to google docs except it points out all the mistakes you may have in your work. (Bear in mind a few mistakes don't matter, but if there's too many then it's likely that your post or blog won't get much attention.) This tip helps you to get a lot of likes on your writing.

Research

If you're writing fanfiction, please study the character(s). My biggest pet peeve when I read fanfiction, is that the love interest is out of character. Whether it be the way they talk or the way they act, if it isn't close to canon, I cannot read it.

So, if you're trying to gain traction and have your work get a lot of positive feedback or likes, then it's best to do research. Most fictional characters have wiki pages where their personalities, relationships and life stories are listed, so why not make the most of it? It's all there for the taking. When writing for a character, rewatch the show/movie to get a good grasp of their personality and then begin to write. The more canon your writing is, the more people will enjoy it.

Reader Inserts

Ever come across an x reader where there's way too much description about their appearance? (Specified hair colour, hair length, named family members etc.) I once read a reader insert where the author described the reader as someone who had pale skin, blue eyes and blonde hair... I was like, huh? That's not what I look like :')

When you specify or go into details about 'reader's' appearance, it will most likely ruin the mental image your readers have in their heads already. I feel like when one tries to write a story or oneshot with a reader, they should be as vague as possible. There's no need to specify the height, or the reader's dream job or names of family members, or outfit choice- that's up to the people that are reading your stuff to work out. Leave it to their imagination. (This doesn't apply to requests made by others for specific character traits or appearances.)

Write believable characters

If your work has a reader insert or original characters, please make them believable. You don't want to write characters that are 2D and have little to no depth. Please don't make them perfect, that takes the fun out of things and makes your character somewhat boring. You don’t want to write a character that your readers find it hard to care about, so even if you were to kill them, the readers wouldn’t care.

Make them real, with real problems and a factor of relatability. Heck, give them toxic/bad personality traits while you're at it. Easily irritable, overly sensitive, cynical, selfish, manipulative, people pleaser- the list is endless (we all have our flaws, no?). Contrary to what others may believe, this will make your character easy to relate to or understand, and more people will like your work that way. (this links to my next tip btw)

Mary Sues

I've seen this a lot in the fanfiction community, and oh god, does it make me cringe (this is because of personal preference, though). Mary sues, if you aren't aware, are perfect characters that have no faults. They don't make mistakes, and everyone loves them even if they do nothing. They are basically the perfect hero/heroine, and that makes them boring. My biggest pet peeves are mary sues in fanfiction author's works, (but, this is because I can't stand perfect and over-powered characters that everyone seems to fall for at first sight).

Fair enough if the entire story is self-indulgent, I'm not here to bash others over personal preferences (this is just how I feel on the matter), but that also means that you take the risk of your work flopping for that sole reason. Your work might not get any traction or positive feedback because it is overly indulgent.

Don't make your original character or reader insert a mary sue. Throw hurdles and hardships at them, let them make huge mistakes and learn from them, let them mature. Let them have flaws, let them win over the love interest slowly, instead of having the two fall in love instantly.

Use the right inspiration for romantic relationships

Please for the love of god do not use toxic relationships as your inspiration for the romance you write into your story. 'After' by Anna Todd comes to mind first, as it is a good example of a romance written horribly. If you don't know already, then it's a Harry Styles wattpad fanfiction that got popular and was published, with two movie adaptations out already, (with more on the way)- the classic good girl falls for bad boy cliche.

So, what's so wrong with 'After'? For one, the male interest is toxic as hell. Anger management issues, substance abuse, trash personality, the list goes on. What does the female interest to about it? Absolutely nothing. She lets him walk all over her and forgives him for it every time.

Please don't use stories like this as a basis for what the romance in your work is like. Relationships where one abuses the other, whether it be mentally, physically or verbally are wrong and shouldn't be glorified nor romanticised. Relationships are supposed to be healthy, and shouldn't tear the people in it, apart. Use the right inspiration, there's plenty out there.

Writing chemistry between characters

For me, I use inspiration where ever I can find it. Movies, animes, books, real life, you name it. Observe the different types of media around you. How do friends interact with each other? How is it different from childhood friends and family friends? How is it different to lovers? I watch Netflix shows/movies in my free time, mostly romance- and yes, it is for research purposes. From there, I take a particular interaction or scene and get to thinking. If the characters from my works were in that situation, how would they react?

Ever watched a movie or a show and thought to yourself, 'Wow, the interactions are so awkward'? That's mostly because the script is forced, and that's the last thing you want to write like. Chemistry, whether it be platonic or romantic, should be natural. The best way for you to do this is by thinking about how characters would interact and letting it come naturally to you.

Don't rush it

You have all the time in the world to write chemistry between characters. Why rush it? Slow burns hit the hardest and a lot of people like them. What I mean to say is, please for the love of god, don't let the characters in your work meet and then immediately fall in love.

The countless amount of times I've sighed in frustration because I've decided to read a story and the first chapter they meet, the second they're already a thing and the third they get married? (This is an exaggeration, but you know what I mean.) What? Why? The time between realising feelings and officially dating should at least take a month, so write with that in mind. (This tip doesn't apply to one-shots.)

Narration

I’ve seen authors skip out on explaining where the story takes place and give the bare minimum when it comes to details, and have realised that it makes it very hard for the reader to understand what’s happening. When there’s barely any context, the story is no longer immersive and is less enjoyable.

Focus on describing the settings. There should be more description than dialogue. The weather, the surrounding, if there are people near or not, smells, sounds, etc. This will help the reader visualise what's happening, and will make it more enjoyable all around. The surroundings should be included in your story to make it more interesting and to keep the reader hooked. I've seen authors do this in their fanfiction and my god, when it's done right, it is so beautiful.

The first paragraph

This is a tip I've only recently started to use. You should always start the first paragraph off with something interesting. It's gotta be eye-catching. This makes sure that the reader doesn't click off of your work before you get to the good bits. There are a lot of writers who start their stories off with the classic 'I woke up in the morning to the alarm clock sounding,' and it is the absolute worst because it's the most overused cliche I've ever seen.

Reading about someone waking up isn't interesting unless it's important to the story. For example, you can start off with a character waking up, if they're sick, 'I jolted awake only to immediately groan at the headache I was hit with. I moved to massage the bridge of my nose, to ease my pain, somewhat. It was then that I realised I was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Breathing in through my nose, I kicked the covers off of myself in an attempt to try and cool down. Turning my head and coughing into my pillow, I wondered if it was even worth it to get up.'

Internal monologues

Internal monologues give character to the person you're writing about and also gives the reader a good idea of what they're like. They also make your story better as a whole and can prove to lengthen it a bit more. Sprinkle them in where you see fit.

For example, 'The school day dragged on. You gazed at the clock yet again- why did it feel as if the hand on it hadn't moved? You should have stayed home. What was the point of this again? You could be spending your time doing something better. You suppressed the urge to yawn as the teacher droned on about how to calculate frequencies and wavelengths.'

Read

I mean this. When you're not writing, read, and do it like it's a job. Find a good book or a fanfiction that's well written, and take note of things the author has done that you think, 'Oh! That's worded beautifully.' This will help you expand your vocabulary, provide you with inspiration and overall will improve your writing.

hope this helps 💞💞💞💞

#anon ask #ask response #writing tips

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peachcitt · 3 years

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fanfic year in review - 2020

hey laddies i was tagged by both @miabrown007 and @strangerahne to do this, so without further ado here we go!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

Bone Tea (march) // All These Selfish Feelings (march) // Doomed from the Start (may) // Wouldn’t it be Nice (may) // my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (may) // screw the classics, and screw you for believing in them (june) // Friendship Bracelets (june) // Those Benevolent Stars (june) // the dark and the stained glass watchers (july) // Bloodsucker (july) // Messy Advances (july) // Happy Endings, the Sun, and Other Steps to Madness (july) // Guessing Game (august) // Passion Fruit Sunset [zine piece, currently unavailable] (september) // Home Coming [zine piece, currently unavailable] (november) // here (november) // bread and oranges (november) // clarity (november) // burgundy, near black (december) // About Emma Martin (december) // cherries (december) // falling, flying (december) // aloe-infused fuzzy socks (december)

23 fics??? okay well looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

2) Number of words written:

219,184 words (which includes my unfinished fics on ao3 and the wips i haven’t posted)

again looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

3) Your most popular fic:

friendship bracelets - the first in the series of my homoerotic college au zukka fics. honestly? i can’t even say im surprised

4) Your personal fav:

MAN this is hard. okay it’s gotta be a four-way tie between bone tea, those benevolent stars, home coming, and screw the classics and screw you for believing in them but really i could be lying because i wrote so much this year (i guess now last year?) that i was really really proud of

5) Your fav scene:

okay i have a lot of favorites but for right now i’ll say: the scene in chapter 3 of those benevolent stars when adrien and marinette are sitting on the banks of the seine and they talk about their favorite colors and adrien’s soulmate - it’s such a quiet and gentle moment, and because you know that their favorite colors are based off each other’s eyes but only marinette knows that and because you know adrien is talking about his soulmate to his soulmate and she knows it but he doesn’t. it’s full of such beautiful, tragic dramatic irony that i just love so so much

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

hm okay the last few chapters of bone tea were definitely challenging not only because of, like, the big fight scenes (which, im not really comfortable writing fight scenes) but also because i had take all of the mess of emotions in bt and wrap it all up into a conclusion that needed to be satisfying. the same could be said about happy endings, the sun, and other steps to madness (minus the fight scene part)

writing impure - my changeling jim au fic - has also been a fun challenge because i basically watch trollhunters episodes as i write, examining each line of dialogue and each character interaction and seeing how that scene or relationship would be changed by the fact that jim is a changeling. it was also a little challenging to keep everything fresh and new - especially at the times when the dialogue from the show stayed the same in the fic, but so far, im really really happy with the way the fic is going

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

off the top of my head are these two lines, both from screw the classics:

It was the ‘Daisy, Daisy, Daisy’s, over and over. Like her name conveyed some sort of deeper meaning that she expected Daisy to be able to understand. Like if she repeated it enough, it would become a sort of prayer that God would listen to, that He would enact to make Daisy put her fists away for once in her pitiful life. It was just “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy” over and over until her name stopped sounding like a name, like a word, and it was just a sound to fill the silence so that neither of them would have to talk about the way Basira’s touch lingered each time she wiped blood away or the way Daisy would always sit so that her knees touched Basira’s even though they were on the floor and there was more than enough room for them to breathe different air.

and

But sometimes Jon was easier than Basira. He didn’t have any of Basira’s softness - he was all edges and sharp lines. His elbows were basically knives, and his hips were edged with broken glass.

the first paragraph i really love because there’s almost a rhythm to it - like poetry - and i love the sound of it and all that it means in the context of the fic.

the second little bit i just love because every so often i think about it and i love the imagery and metaphor and the way it fits jon - in canon and in this fic. in this fic, they’re all in high school so jon is gangly and skinny and bony and in general, he’s just abrasive and a little rude. this description of him i just love (and the way i described him from martin’s pov in doomed from the start; “Jonathan Sims looked, even from a distance, as if he was perpetually smelling something awful. His features, just left of handsome, were marred by furrowed eyebrows and a distasteful frown.”)

8) A comment that touched you:

LITERALLY SO MANY????? the comments on the final chapter of bone tea, telling me that the story was something that they loved and found comfort in, the long comments on any of my fics detailing their exact favorite parts, the comments that were just short jokes that made me laugh out loud - literally i can’t pinpoint one. im just so thankful to have written things that people respond to with such kindness and love

9) Something that inspired your writing:

music!!!!!! i found myself making playlists for a few of my fics this year or listening to specific old playlists of mine for the right mood for a fic, and it’s really inspired me to write

also, as always, my own personal experiences. i thought and felt a lot this year, and i think in every single one of the fics i posted this year, you can probably find a central thought or feeling driving it that no doubt comes from my personal life

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

finishing bone tea and tying the title to the fic!!!!!!!! finishing happy endings and also tying that title to the fic!!!!!! getting accepted into two different zines and working with two different amazing artists and completing those fics!!!!!!!! literally writing anything at all!!!!!!!!!

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

i think mainly i just want to write, you know? i want to stop putting so much pressure on myself, because this past year i put so much pressure on myself that i was constantly feeling like i was underperforming (which was, like, super untrue, but you know how it goes) so when i wasn’t writing i felt like i was wasting time. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i had so much fun writing and creating all of these things that im so so proud of, it’s just the space in between writing sessions that i want to let myself breathe in. i don’t want to dread thinking about writing for fun anymore because that’s not fun

besides that, i think my other goals are to just continue forward with my unfinished projects - impure, the new wave, the bone tea extras - and to officially start the other two long fic ideas i have for mlb that ive been really excited about for a long while. this past year i wrote a lot of one shots (like. so many. oh my god) so maybe this year i might focus on long projects. who knows though definitely not me it’ll be a surprise for all of us

anyway that’s all!! thanks mia and strangerahne for tagging me!! ive been needing a lot of reminders lately that i have, in fact, written this year, and having to, like, do math and scroll through my ao3 page and all my google docs has been really enlightening so thanks so much for this

i tag: @lnc2, @chatnoirinette, @deinde-prandium, and @rosekasa! y’all don’t have to do this, but i’d love to see how y’all felt about your works this year and also to see y’all love yourselves very much because you deserve it. also literally anyone can do this you can just say i tagged you i don’t mind it’ll be our secret - i highly encourage it because it’s very sweet and very fun to look back on all you’ve accomplished this year

<3<3<3<3

#tag game #GOOD LORD.THIS TOOK ME LIKE TWO HOURS KJFBGLKDFJHLSDIHG:SD #i will admit. most of those two hours was spent trying to figure out my word count akjfghlk #also scrolling through my ao3 and linking all my fics that also took a while #BUT REALLY while i was adding up my word count i just kept on staring at the growing number like ????jfc???????#i know ive been posting about it a lot lately but the fact that i have had the audacity to keep on getting antsy over not writing???#literally im ridiculous. OVER 200k WORDS. LITERALLY SHUT UP THAT'S RIDICULOUS.#and the fact that i wrote so much of those words during a pandemic and going through perhaps one of the worst years of my life???#struggling with personal issues and mental issues and school issues and like. SO MANY ISSUES????? HOW #idk this was just so so validating. also terrifying. god #im scared of myself tbh. i have no idea how i did any of this. i feel like i just. blacked out and now im here and FUCK I JUST FUCKJFHLGJSR #IT JUST SUNK IN THAT IT'S 2021 NOW???????? H O W #like logically i knew 2020 would have to end at some point but like most days felt like fucking decades so ??#god. it's a whole new year now. that's fuckng wild bro #im feeling emotional. it doesn't help that im listening to my favorite band (armors) now and it's the song that always brings me to myknees #EMPTY AND WORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME BROKEN AND TORN YOU CARRY ME HOME NOW YOU'RE LETTING GO OF ME #tell me that doesn't send you into a State. you can't. fuck.#(the song is comatose by armors btw)#SPEAKING of armors when i was typing out the fics i had written this year i realized that two fics in a row were named after armors songs #all these selfish feelings (chlonette; lyric from portland by armors) and doomed from the start (jonmartin; lyric from name by armors)#im literally so lame. and that's fine #also i scrolled up just now to check and i realized that i have FOUR FICS IN A ROW NAMED AFTER SONGS???#man i really wasn't kidding when i said i was inspired by music huh sldjfhgsjfh #also in case you're wondering they're all these selfish feelings and doomed from the start and ALSO #wouldn't it be nice (jonmartin; lyrics from wouldn't it be nice by the beach boys)#and my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (adrinette; 11:11 by waterparks)#ANYWAY i should be done with this post now sorry for anyone who is still reading for having to deal with my rambling #and goodnight sweet dreams happy new year ily

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 4 years

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Pain Is So Close To Pleasure (modern!Queen x platonic!reader) - Chapter 2

Summary: As a recently promoted Soloist for the Royal Ballet, you move closer to Covent Garden with your three-year-old daughter, Rose. But your new neighbour turns out to be the last person you'd expect to pop up on your doorstep.

A/N: This chapter, but really this whole fic, has such a specific vibe and I love it?? Like I can relate to a lot of the things I describe, and I don’t know if that’s a me thing, or a British thing, or just a thing. Anyways I’m here for it. And if you’re not British and don’t relate to this fic in the way I do, and you’ve wondered what it’s like to live in Britain, this might give you a rough idea.

The chapter count for this crept up again because I’ve had about two or three more ideas for this. I think now would be a good time to mention that I’m treating this as more of a load of one-shots set in the same verse, rather than a story with a plot. That’s why it will start to seem more like a series of vignettes, not as a storyline.

As always, I hope you’re all doing okay with everything that’s going on, and I hope to have another update for you all soon. I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): swearing

Word Count: 3.3k+

Inspiration: Incandescent by @immistermercury on AO3, Outed by @platawnic on Tumblr, Rock Angel by @mirkwoodshewolf on Tumblr, Brian’s Instagram, Modern Times Rock ‘N’ Roll by @rhapso-kei on Tumblr and AO3, this silly lockdown business, the fact that I should have gone to see Queen over two weeks ago but it’s fine

Taglist: @bhmay @briarrose26

Series Taglist: @banana-tree-freddiemercury @lillycarlyn (darling you didn’t say which taglist so if you want me to put you on the perm one then let me know)

Ask to be on either! Make sure to specify!

You popped your head round the door to the studio and smiled to yourself when you found it void of people. You switched the lights on, the charcoal-grey clouds outside casting a darkness over the Opera House; uncharacteristic for midday, but then it was London, and it was February. You couldn’t expect too much from good old British weather.

It wasn’t often that you had the opportunity of having a studio all to yourself, so when you did, you simply had to make the most of it. The way your timetable for the day had worked out meant that you had a longer lunch break than everyone else, not by much, but fifteen minutes was more than enough time to go over a routine you’d crafted yourself. So, seeing as you could afford to eat later on, and everyone else was either in the canteen or some café in Covent Garden, you decided to book one of the studios for your own use.

You connected your phone to the mostly unused speaker in the corner of the room and quickly found the song. Time was of the essence here, and you were most conscious of that. You lightly ran to the centre of the room, making sure you weren’t facing the wall-length mirror for watching yourself dance made you rather self-conscious, replacing passion with technicality. This dance was your own, you had created it, cradled it, held it oh-so-close to your heart; unlike anything you’d ever done professionally, this dance was all about the enthusiasm and the love with which you danced.

Freddie’s voice rang out through the studio, clear as day and filling each and every particle with the richness of his voice. The singular note was soon accompanied by harmonies and then the familiar piano motif of Somebody To Love. You smiled despite yourself as you began the routine.

You promised yourself that one day you’d perform this to someone, even if it was just Rose. But that day was a long way off yet.

The way you danced was unlike how you had ever done so on stage. You performed with a vivacity that many dancers lost so early on in their careers when they valued the physical quality of their dancing over the raw emotion of it. You considered yourself quite lucky that you hadn’t yet surrendered to that particular temptation.

You considered this song to be a crescendo in and of itself, just building and building as its many layers unfolded. You’d made sure that this was reflected in the choreography. Each section was grander a more extravagant than the last. You quite liked the simultaneous challenge and familiarity of it; it made for a good dance to return to when you found your head overflowing with your thoughts and anxieties. You made more and more use of the space as the song progressed, like you were contained by an invisible circle that gradually grew.

When the third verse came around, and Freddie’s voice temporarily faded into silence, fooling the nonchalant listener into thinking it was the end, you had a second to pause. You used it to inhale deeply before starting the fouettés that accompanied the acapella. One, then another, then another, more, more, more until you genuinely thought you were going to fall over. You persevered, however, pushing through all forty of the turns, and even though by the end you wanted nothing more than to lay on the ground and watch the world spin, you couldn’t stop yourself from beaming because holy shit you’d never done them all before. You shook off the feeling, allowing yourself to revel in it later; right now, you had the rest of the dance to get through.

You breezed through the rest of it, the highest jeté seeming insignificant compared to the dizzying hell you’d just put yourself through. When everything quietened down once again, and Freddie faded back into his falsetto, you came to a still in the centre of the ‘stage’, going up on pointe and gradually raising one leg into the air so that it was parallel to your upper body and then to your face. When the music kicked in again, you dropped it back down and returned to your original flow. With the last tiny piano chord of the song, you did a cheeky little jump with the biggest grin on your face, before curtseying to your non-existent audience.

Or so you thought.

A slow clap sounded from the doorway and you whirled round to look at the intruder, blushing furiously with the embarrassment of being seen without knowing. Your smile made a comeback, however, when you recognised the face.

“Wow, that really was something, (Y/N),” Brian whistled, “I’m impressed, truly.”

“Thank you,” you ducked your head, panting heavily. Your muscles screamed with exhaustion, and even though you wanted to just lay down and maybe have a nap, you stayed strong, refusing to appear rude to Brian.

Somehow, he seemed to read your mind, “You can sit down, you must be knackered. Don’t mind me.”

You smiled at him gratefully before sinking down in the corner of the studio next to your bag and grabbing your water bottle with desperation. You gestured to the spot next to you which he took gladly. “How much of that did you see?”

“Pretty much all of it,” he laughed, “I was about pop in for a chat but I saw you put the song on, and I thought I might as well watch.”

“Gosh,” you muttered, beginning to take off your pointe shoes to relieve your aching feet. You’d had back-to-back classes all morning and doing a routine such as that one after all of that just didn’t help.

“I didn’t know you guys danced to non-classical music,” he said.

You managed to get one shoe off, and you started on the other one, wrinkling your nose at the quite frankly disgusting smell that Brian was politely showing no reaction to, “We don’t. Well, I haven’t heard of it anyway. Even if people did somewhere, it would be an awfully long time before the Royal started doing it.”

He shot you a confused look, “Then how…”

“It’s my dance. I choreographed it a while back,” you shrugged, not really understanding what the big deal was, “That’s probably the best run I’ve done of it.”

“Wow, I,” he ran a hand through his hair, “That looked like something from an actual ballet.”

You ducked your head again with the kind of embarrassed pride that comes with compliments, “Thanks, Brian, that means a lot. I only made it a while ago. I,” you laughed self-deprecatingly before saying, “I’d just done quite possibly the worst audition of my life, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how shit it was. So, I just freestyled to some of my favourite songs and that happened.”

“You just made that up?” he asked incredulously.

“It wasn’t nearly as good as it was just then. I’ve been working on it for months until it became what you just watched. It’s been my little side project,” you mused, shoving your phone and both of your pointe shoes into your ballet bag. You poked your head up and peered through the huge window on the opposite wall, cringing at the heavy rain and how that wasn’t a good mix with the non-waterproof trainers you were now putting on, “Oh, shit, I thought it wasn’t going to rain until later. I don’t think I packed my umbrella,” you said, forgetting about your shoes for a second and rifling through your bag.

Brian placed a hand on your arm, “Relax, I have one, we’ll just have to share, if that’s alright with you?”

“Thanks,” you looked at him gratefully before returning to doing your laces.

“Where are you going anyway? You haven’t finished work already, have you?”

“Oh, I wish,” you laughed sadly. You did love your job, but today was just one of those days where you had no energy and just wanted to cuddle up on the sofa with a cup of tea and a box of Quality Street chocolates all to yourself and binge watch Miranda on Netflix. “No, I didn’t bring any lunch with me, so I thought I’d have a look and see which cafes have free tables. You’re more than welcome to join me if you want.”

About five minutes later, you found yourself running through Covent Garden Market while it was hammering it down with rain, sharing an umbrella with Brian that was way too small for the both of you. You were trying your hardest not to slip on the shining cobblestones beneath your feet, while also trying not to knock into any other pedestrians who, like you, were also running for cover. It wasn’t long until you reached your destination, a café that was a favourite haunt of yourself and Rose. It served at Rose’s Friday treat after she had finished preschool for the day, when the weather wasn’t too good and you couldn’t go to the playground in St James’s Park. You also frequented it on bank holiday weekends or half-terms where you’d been in the flat for three days straight and were in desperate need of some fresh air but had absolutely nothing to do.

You held the door open for Brian, hearing the little bell ring when it came into contact with the door, and you grabbed the umbrella from him as he entered. You shook it rather aggressively outside and popped it into the bucket next to you, filled to the brim with the umbrella of fellow patrons who unluckily got caught in the rain and had dived into the nearest establishment for sanctuary. You made your way to the only free table left while Brian queued up to order your food and drinks.

This wasn’t actually the first time you two had done this, though it was the third. The first time had been rather awkward, as from the second you put your shoes on to leave to the second you said goodbye, you were both repeatedly stopped by people wanting to talk to Brian. And even though neither of you ever complained, you had later admitted to each other that you had found it rather annoying. The second time wasn’t as bad, though at one point you had been stopped by a guy from some tabloid you’d never heard of asking for an interview. Much to your amusement, and Brian’s embarrassment, the guy had actually been looking to talk to you instead of him. You’d politely declined, offering to do it another time, but as soon as you’d sat down to eat, you teased Brian mercilessly about it, and still did every now and then. All it took was for you to say Brian look I’m more famous than you for him to blush furiously and ask you to please change the subject. Considering this was the third time now, the initial shock of oh my God I’m just casually having lunch with Brian May this is fine had passed. Now it was merely having lunch with a friend. Just that that friend just so happened to be an international icon. No big deal.

You looked up to see Brian making his way over to you, carrying a tray of food, and you smiled when you noticed that he’d remembered from last time when you’d told him what, in your opinion, was the best food this particular café had to offer. He sat down opposite you and plonked the tray down on the table, as you both started to work out who’s food and drink was who’s.

“How’s work been this week?” he opened up the conversation as he stirred his latte that had fake milk in it because I don’t know if their milk is locally sourced, (Y/N)!

“Not too bad, actually,” you said, taking a sip of your own drink and cringing when it scalded your tongue, “We’re just in our last week of rehearsals for The Winter’s Tale right now. Someone got injured on Tuesday, and our first performance is next Tuesday, so that’s not exactly ideal. But we’ll get through it, it’ll be fine, I’m sure,” you shrugged. The show must go on, you supposed. Pun not intended.

“Listen, (Y/N),” he started, his more serious tone intriguing you already, “I need to talk to you about something.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay…” You weren’t all too sure where he was going with this, and it was impossible to tell if the news he was about to impart was good or bad.

“I know this is very sudden, and there’s no guarantee that this will even happen, but I thought I’d ask you first,” he rambled for a moment.

“What, what are you on about?” you laughed impatiently.

He took a deep breath and said, “I have a business proposition for you.”

**************

The after-school pick-me-up was carnage at the best of times, let alone on a Friday which also just so happened to be the last day of half-term. Parents crowding around the doorway, desperate to reunite with their child and careless of who they had to shove out of their way in order to reach them. Children spilled out of the school, arms full of lunch boxes and month-old paintings that were meant to be rainbows and dragons but resembled something similar to an oil spill. Teachers waved goodbye with the odd word to the overly concerned parent, not-so-secretly relieved that their week off was edging closer, and hurrying everyone off because the sooner they left, the sooner half-term started. Something which parents had very split feelings over.

Not for you, however. You were more than happy to get Rose to yourself for the week, finding the flat way too still and silent and void of a child’s laughter for you to find remotely comfortable. And even though half-term would always mean a busy show week for you due to the sheer amount of families desperately needing something to do, you were still grateful for the time you got together. That may or may not be because you had spent the far majority of your adult life being a parent, but you weren’t complaining.

As per usual, you heard Rose’s shout long before you saw her face, but you decided that you wouldn’t have it any other way when you saw her run straight towards, “Mummy!”

You crouched down and hugged her tightly when she collided into your arms, almost overbalancing from the sheer force of it, “Hello, darling, did you have a good day?”

She pulled away and grinned at you, “Yeah! We had a dance party and we played games and we played musical chairs and I won and I got some chocolate!”

“Oh, wow, that’s really good Rose, well done you,” you bopped her nose and turned to the things she was holding, “What’s all this?”

She thrust a piece of sugar paper under your nose, “I did a glitter painting yesterday and it’s dry now! It has every colour in the whole world!”

You took it from her and looked at it, pretending to inspect it like a pretentious artist and putting on the poshest voice possible, “Well, I do think it’s rather splendid, if I do say so myself. Absolutely spiffing.”

She dissolved into giggles, “Mummy, you’re silly.”

You gasped in mock offence as you took her hand and started to lead her out of the crowd, “Excuse me, I’m not silly! I’m a very serious grown-up, don’t you know?”

“I don’t want to be a grown-up! Grown-ups are boring. I want to be little forever and ever and ever.”

“I’m a grown-up, do you think I’m boring?” you asked.

“Only sometimes,” she said very seriously, “Only when you talk about boring grown-up stuff.”

You chuckled slightly, “What about Rog and Bri? Are they boring?”

She laughed again as if you’d just said the funniest thing she’d heard all day, “No! They’re fun because they give me ice cream and they think of really good games,” she paused for a second, “Mummy, are we going to the park today?”

“Well, it is Friday so if you want to go then we’ll go. It is a very sunny day today,” you said, frowning when you noticed Rose’s face, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

She pouted as if deep in thought, “I don’t think I want to go today.”

“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t want to, darling. It’s half-term next week so we can always go another day,” you assured her, “Why don’t you want to go?”

“I feel a bit tired,” she said sheepishly, “I don’t want to fall asleep on the swings and fall off!”

“Oh, baby,” you said, heart swelling with the simultaneous silliness and adorableness of her logic, “I’d catch you before you fall, don’t worry. But we can go home if you want. We’ll find something else for your Friday treat.”

Her eyes lit up, “Can we have cookies? The nice ones with the big chocolate bits?”

“Good idea, darling, we can have cookies,” you did a quick mental run-through of what your biscuit tin was looking like at the moment and said, “I don’t think we have any of those ones at home so we’ll stop off at the bakery on the way home.”

“Yay!” she squealed before singing, “We’re having cookies! We’re having cookies!”

Rose spent the entire journey home singing that song, and even though you wanted nothing more than to never hear that tune again, you wouldn’t dare burst her bubble of joy. Besides, you didn’t think you could tell her to stop if you tried; she really was that cute. Or maybe you just told yourself that, so you didn’t feel like a terrible parent. You guessed you would never know. At least the lady who worked at the bakery found it endearing that a child could be that excited for something as relatively simple as cookies.

By the time you’d shoved the key in the door and the two of you had spilled into your flat, it was around half past four and Rose was positively exhausted, despite her best attempts to look and sound awake. You’d decided to have the cookies with some milk you’d warm up once you’d sorted out Rose’s stuff and gotten her changed from her long day at preschool. Then you just supposed you’d have some cuddles, and, with any luck, she’d fall asleep because the poor girl really needed it.

You put the radio on in the background before snuggling down on the sofa with her comfortably in your lap and your favourite honey-golden blanket draped over the both of you.

“I love you, Mummy,” she murmured against your chest before nibbling on the cookie that was bigger than her hand.

“I love you too, baby,” you said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and feeling her snuggle in more, as if that was even possible. You suddenly remembered your lunch with Brian, and the news you needed to impart, “I had lunch with Bri today,” you started, feeling her nod and carrying on, “He had a very cool idea, darling.”

“What was it?” she whispered, large, curious eyes looking up at you.

“He asked me if I wanted to work on a film, and I said yes,” you smiled, watching her face light up with the muted excitement that was usually paired with some element of confusion.

“A film? Is it a big film? Like Tangled?” she asked, suddenly much livelier than before.

“Yes, sweetheart, a bit like Tangled, except there’s going to be real people in it instead of animated people,” you explained.

“What’s the film about?” she was getting more curious by the second and it just made your heart leap with pride.

“It’s about the band that Rog and Bri are in, darling. It’s the story of how they got famous,” you grinned.

“Who are you in it?”

“Ooooooh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that yet, I’ve got to keep it a secret,” you said judiciously, smiling when she pouted at you, “I’ll tell you another day, sweetheart, don’t you worry.”

“Promise?” she asked hopefully.

You brought her into a hug again and whispered, “Promise.”

#ballet #royal ballet #queen band #ballet au #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #Queen #queen x reader #queen x reader platonic #queen imagine

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Note

So just out of curiosity, what inspired the whole Beacon Bay idea? What kind of sharks and dolphins are they? This entire thing is very intriguing to me and I can't wait to see more.

So first off, anyone who’s ever played soundingboard to my original stuff like Moukie or Adam can attest to the fact that I’m ocean obsessed, so there’s pretty much nothing I’m interested in that isn’t a mere two or three steps removed from an ocean/merfolk/sea witch AU in my head. Gimme anything and like, five minutes, and I can make it ocean themed. Space operas included. I grew up near the ocean, been surfing for ages though of course I haven’t in years, blah, but like. I’m a big fan of the deep blue sea. Its just....neat. ghaskfhalkfhla

So I’ve always had a bunch of ocean-set concepts. This particular AU came about from like, smashing a couple of them together to preserve them when my plans for doing original stuff with them fizzled out, at least for the time being. Cuz the other thing about me is the way some people like, take their fanfic and file off the serial numbers to turn it into original novels, I more often do the reverse, lmao. When I have something I can no longer do something with original-content-wise, for whatever reason, but I still like the idea, I turn it into fanfic so I can still play around with it whenever I want and like, have purpose to that, so I don’t feel like I’m wasting time by still ‘indulging’ in that concept or whatever.

Like my Batfandom fic By Lost Ways, as I’ve mentioned before....that actually started out as an original high fantasy novel set in my ‘Tales of the Citadel’ shared universe. BUT the setting ended up being similar enough to a sci-fi project I wanted I to move forward with, ‘Waveriders’ (the one with the sky pirates and the ATLA-style benders only instead of evoking the four classical elements, waveriders could each ‘hack’ a different kind of wavelength, that one) like....basically, the projects FELT similar enough in setting and various superficial elements that I started to feel derivative of myself moving forward with both, so I picked Waveriders and then recycled the setting and a lot of the plot of the sky-set fantasy novel for fanfic, just for fun.

Same thing here, though Beacon Bay is basically the mash-up of two different shelved original projects. Basically, its the plot of a CW-style show about teen sirens and the sea witch making like the Fagin to their Oliver Twists, from a pilot I wrote years ago.....it got some interest but I refused to make it less gay because lol have you met me, so it ultimately never went anywhere but I still liked the plot.

And then remember the werewolf books I mentioned awhile back, that had the mongoose shifters in them? LOL. Yeah, so I’d written two and a half novels in that series and had this whole expansive worldbuilding of twelve different shifter clans each with their own innate magic, patron deity/creator, etc, but all my agent and editor contacts at the time were like yeah sorry, shifters are over for now, and I was like wow, can’t believe cancel culture’s real and publishing cancelled werewolves, wtf, rude, and then I was like eh, still wanna play in this universe especially with the dolphins and shark shifters which I never even really got to in those books, so I’m just gonna air-lift them out of that and drop them smack in the middle of my CW siren plot and fanfic away to my heart’s content and call that ‘being productive’ when I feel like it.

Anyway, found family was a big theme of those books and the world-building I did there in general, because again, have you met me, I’m not predictable or anything (shhh, the word is consistent), and one of my initial things there was I wanted the various shifter types to all have innate magic, because for literally no real reason that I can discern other than Whimsy, I have always been Team Werewolf in vampires vs werewolves, and I was tired of werewolves always being by default the underdogs in those narratives. Even if that does make for a good pun.

SO, I wanted to come up with werewolf magic that felt natural and organic to werewolves, like nothing too flashy or obscure, but that would make them a legitimate threat even to other supernatural creatures. And I made it so each of the shifter types were granted an active and a passive magic by the god that created their type of shifter, and with werewolves, their active magic was that of the pack gestalt. I took the idea of ‘their whole is greater than the sum of their parts’ that TW kinda briefly touched on when presenting (but never really doing much with) the idea that the more wolves in a pack, the stronger that pack was.....and I decided okay what if being part of a pack upped stats all across the board AND all shifters have a SLIGHT innate resistance to magic, being innately magical beings themselves?

So a werewolf pack, with enough pack members, would thus not only be formidable in strength, speed, senses and speed of healing....but compound that innate shifter resistance to magic, which in a single shifter is negligible, like, just enough to make them slightly harder to track with magic or curse or whatever.....but in a whole werewolf pack, that adds up to make the pack effectively immune to foreign magic. Vampires can’t compel them, demons can’t possess them, witches can’t curse them, etc. So a lone werewolf, not part of a pack, is formidable, but nothing another supernatural being can’t take on. But a lone werewolf who IS part of a pack....different story entirely, because now most other supernatural beings, no matter what their USUAL strengths, are reduced to taking on that werewolf hand to hand, as their own supernatural gifts or spells or whatever, like, aren’t gonna do them any good against these particular foes. And werewolves are USED to fighting with just brute physical strength and attributes, which gives them the edge against opponents who are more used to being able to fall back on magic in battle.

But as much as I like sticking to a theme, I like to diversify that theme where possible, so when it came to the other shifter types, I wanted to similarly come up with ways where ‘the whole would be greater than the sum of their parts’ but in like, entirely different ways.

So with dolphin shifters, their ‘passive magic’ (in quotes cuz that’s not quite the right word for it but whatever) is that they’re all empaths, with their more active magic being weather manipulation. Their empathy is a two-way street....they project emotions as well as just feel other peoples’, which ties into the fact that their patron deity was Dionysus. Dolphin parties....legendary. But in an extremely wild, dangerous and Bacchanalian kinda way. In terms of Beacon Bay specifically, this is a bit of a problem for the BB dolphins, as the closest thing they had to an official Triton (the dolphin shifter version of an Alpha) was Peter, but they were like nope, not loving this guy, and kinda drove him out of town in the AU S1 backstory of this ‘verse, which means Scott and the others are kinda just making it up as they go along, and don’t really know the ins and outs of BEING dolphin shifters. (Derek is....elsewhere, in this. Mostly).

So bottom line is they have reputations around school for being loud obnoxious goofs and trouble-makers, constantly playing hooky and such, but its because they don’t really know HOW to safeguard against spilling their emotions onto everyone around them so they try and err on the side of being the life of the party whenever possible, as that’s better than the alternatives in their opinion. And when they’re just having bad days and bumming hard, the whole pod will just skip school and glomp around the bumming pod member whilst self-caring, rather than like, accidentally bum out the entire school.

But their weather manipulation magic is where the gestalt idea comes into play with them, as I love weather manipulating powers, but I didn’t want to make them all Ororo Munroe, y’know? Only Ororo Munroe can be Ororo Munroe. Don’t make me scoff. I’ll do it. I’ll scoff so hard. SO I went with the idea of weather control married to manipulating storms via song and was like, okay what if a dolphin pod is like, a symphony of shifters.

Basically, its like each individual dolphin shifter is a single voice in a chorus, and there’s magical equivalents of being a baritone, an alto, etc. Like, none of them can whip up a storm on their own. Its more that each of them can summon or conjure a PIECE of a storm with their song, with it being different for each of them....symptomatic of their magic as an expression of them as an individual. So for instance, Scott’s song is ‘tuned’ to lightning. He can call down a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky.....but he can’t summon so much as a drop of rain to save his life. Literally. Its an actual plot point at one point. Whereas Isaac’s song is all about calling down rain, Boyd’s is more of an arctic wind, and Erica’s kinda summons a pressure front that in harmony with the two of theirs can whip up a mean waterspout. And then Corey’s all about conjuring fog banks with low visibility while Liam can whistle up a strong, gale-force wind but sucks at using his song as a precision instrument. Etc, etc. But the real magic is when they all use their voices and magic in concert....as a group, they can summon huge magical thunderstorms.

Also, one thing I love about using different kinds of shifters is the opportunity to explore enhanced supernatural senses that aren’t just keen sight, smell or hearing. So the dolphin shifters aren’t like wolf shifters in being able to detect chemosignals or anything like that....in fact, their sense of smell isn’t much different from anyone else’s. But they do have an ability to use what’s effectively supernatural echolocation even above water, and their sight is adapted for optimal viewing underwater, making them particularly good at seeing in the darkness even on land.

(Also, related but somewhat tangential to both the shifter senses and dolphin ‘voices’....all dolphin shifters have a strong talent for mimicry, but this isn’t technically a form of magic, more just a combination of their control over their voice and their keen senses of pitch, etc).

The shark shifters, on the other hand, have some of the keenest senses of all shifters. Not only is their sense of smell even better than a werewolf’s, they’re sensitive to changes in pressure, for one thing. Which means on land, they can even feel changes in atmospheric pressure.....so like, the shark shifters of Beacon Bay could be in math class and then ‘feel’ a sudden drop in air pressure and thus even before some strange weather phenomenon occurs, they’re groaning like ugh fucking A, what the hell did the damn dolphins do now.

Also, their magnetic field perception is such that they can kinda ‘sense’ when people are around, just by being aware of the approaching magnetic field of another living being.

And then with the sharks, I was looking for ways to lean into the associations we have with sharks and blood, but subvert them to be less macabre and more communal. And another big theme of mine in general is like, I am DETERMINED to go to my grave shouting at the top of my lungs “Its THE BLOOD OF THE COVENANT IS THICKER THAN THE WATER OF THE WOMB, NOT BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER, HOW DID PEOPLE GET THAT SO BACKWARDS ITS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF HOW ITS USUALLY STATED!”

Like, that’s just...HUGE pet peeve of mine. Its like nails on a chalkboard, lmfao, that drives me nuts. That phrase is usually cited by people using it to express like, the idea that there’s no greater force than family, specifically BIOLOGICAL, ‘blood’ relations, but its literally meant to be the exact opposite, that the blood of CHOSEN bonds, of covenants, of vows or promises, is a greater force than the water of the womb, ie being born of the same womb, as in biological siblings. The entire point of the phrase is biology ain’t shit, family is what we choose. And somehow it got turned ENTIRELY around.

(Note: Okay, so for the record, its not ‘somehow’, there’s actually a very clear reason for why that particular interpretation gained so much momentum, and that’s because for a long time it was conflated with an old German proverb from like a thousand years ago that basically translates to “kin-blood is not spoiled by water.” Which basically was meant to mean that nothing can ‘dilute’ blood relations, not time, not distance, not water. So that phrase DOES correspond to the idea that ‘blood is thicker than water.’ Problem is, there isn’t a direct trace from that particular proverb TO most USAGES of ‘blood is thicker than water,’ which when you throw in the OTHER phrase, which in its entirety is “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” what you end up with is a lot of people SAYING that one when they actually MEAN to say ‘kin-blood is not spoiled by water’ and that’s where the meanings get switched. But I fucking digress. Per usual).

Anyway. So combine that particular pet peeve with my found family fixation AND the fact that this is about magic and magic means I can do whatever the hell I want, fuck your biological connections mwahahaha.....I decided to base shark magic on the idea of the blood-ties of family....but CHOSEN blood-ties, as in blood of the covenant ties.

What I mean is okay, so it first of all just made sense to me to have shark shifter communities be heavily focused around adoption, because like....let’s be real, shark shifters going around biting people to change them into shifters, and then people magically healing from....shark bites....was going to attract a lot more attention than people turning after being attacked by other types of shifters. Not to mention the fact that not only are shark attacks always big news, part of why they’re big news is because they’re actually pretty rare.

So, shark shifter communities were never really gonna propagate via lots of random shark shifter attacks turning people. So the way they DO expand and grow is by, well, family. Both biological AND adoption...as well as of course shark shifter communities taking in people who ARE attacked by rogue shark shifters, when that does happen.

But bottom line is, there’s an additional element in play in shark shifter communities, beyond just the gene pool....and that’s like, a magical tidepool of talents, let’s call it. Because I do love me some alliteration. But also tidepool of talents is just a cool phrase, IMO.

Anyway, the main part of shark shifter magic, and how THEIR whole is greater than the sum of their parts, is that any shark shifter can draw upon or channel the talents, skillsets or knowledge of anyone else in their communal family. And whenever that family gets added to, the talents, skillsets and knowledge of the new addition gets added to the pot, so to speak. So shark shifters are kinda all like Rogue, if Rogue’s focus was less on the superpowers of other people and more on things like Beast’s scientific knowledge, Cyclops’ strategic skills or Cable’s weapons expertise.

And then their ‘passive magic’ is a form of psychometry whenever they come into contact with blood. By touching even just a drop of someone’s blood, they can get a vision of how that blood was spilled or even get a sense of where the person who spilled it is now.

As to the types of sharks and dolphins they all are, for that I went with the thing about the shape you take reflects the person you are.....all the shifters here are full shifters, and there’s no genetic component to their shifting, its purely magical, so like....just because Peter turned the various dolphins of BB doesn’t mean they all turn into the same kind of dolphin he was. In fact, I don’t even know what kind of dolphin he was on account of I don’t really care tbh, lol. Whereas Erica’s an Atlantic spotted dolphin, Liam’s a pygmy killer whale which looks like an orca just tiny in comparison and is actually a dolphin, and I found that combination of factors hilarious, etc, etc.

Same thing with the shark shifters. Even among biological relations, there’s a ton of variety of shark types. Like the twins aren’t even the same type...Ethan’s a blue shark and Aiden’s a bull shark, Tracy’s a tiger shark and Hayden’s an angel shark. Danny’s actually a throwback to an unnamed prehistoric shark, not Megalodon big but big enough to shut up Jackson when he goes on about being a great white shark. Shark and crocodile shifters are the two oldest shifter clans, old enough that literal dinosaurs fall under the umbrella of their shifter type, and thus occasionally show up even in modern generations.

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aspenflower17 · 4 years

Text

Wrath is The Cat

Hey everyone! This is my first completed fan fiction. It is very long, but I want to make sure I don’t leave you guys hanging with an unfinished fic. It is for Obey Me! and I had fun writing it. Know that I have finished Lesson Twenty regular and Lesson 15 Hard, so there might be spoilers. It also talk about Fruits Basket in this fic, though I don’t think there’s any major spoilers for that (also, if you haven’t read it or watched the new anime, you should!).

I am posting this at midnight, so I apologize if there’s formatting problems or such. Please comment or DM me with anything major you see and I will attempt to fix :)

Satan / Reader

Word Count: 3960

[some angst at the end]

“Are you reading that again?” Satan asked, eyeing the newest volume of My Hero Academia Mc had.

“Technically, this is the first time I’ve read this volume, but yes, I am reading My Hero Academia.“

"Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why would you read that when you could read real literature?”

“Hold on just a minute,” Mc said, fully shutting the volume so she could face him, “What did you say?”

“Come on. You can’t tell me you find that more compelling and as well written as A Portrait of Dorian Grey.”

“I never said one was superior to the other. Just because on is good does not invalidate the other. By that mode of thinking, no one should make new literature because it would never be as good as the classics, which is, simply put, a stupid idea.”

“Well, what about the issue of the art itself. These over idealized figures that couldn’t actually look the way they do in real life. ”

“Says one of the prettiest men I’ve ever met,” Mc muttered under her breath.

“Hmmm… what was that?”

“Are you talking about uber-boobs and uber-muscles?” Mc asked, hoping he honestly hadn’t heard her.

“Among other things, yes,” Satan said, though she could feel him trying to figure out what she’d actually said.

“Not all manga and comics are like that! It’s a trope in both genres. Before I started reading them, it’s something I thought too,” Mc said, not realizing that her voice had gotten very loud and fervent. Satan sat there, looking as if he was deciding whether to continue the conversation. Mc took a deep breath, her inner fan girl needing to quiet down in order to get through to him, “Have you read any?”

“Yes… Well, I tried once. Levi begged me to read one, so I conceded. Long story short, it was not to my liking.”

“Which one?”

“I believe it was called, That Time I Accidentally Fist Fought A Monster.”

Mc pinched the bridge of her nose, a habit she’d subconsciously picked up from Satan. He smiled softly as he recognized the imitation. That was a terrible anime or manga to start someone off on. It had a pretty good story, but it had far too many silly anime tropes for someone like Satan.

“That… That is not the one I would’ve started you out on.”

“And just which one would you have started me out on?”

Mc stopped, and started to think. Most of the anime and manga she liked were romance, and she wasn’t sure if those would be a good fit for him, especially since most of them didn’t have much of a story line besides the relationship. Although, there was one she had been able to get her brother into…

“My first instinct would be Fruits Basket. I’m not sure how much you'd like it at first, but I think if you give it a real chance and read until… the third volume, probably… I think you’d really end up enjoying it.”

“What do you think I’d like about it?”

“Hmmm… You’d probably really appreciate the dynamics between Kyo and Yuki. I also think you’ll appreciate the character depth and development. There’s also a lot of plot intricacies and plot twists. I also agree with a lot of people online that it’s a good introduction to anime and manga.”

“I’ll try it then.”

“Wait… What?”

“I have a feeling you’ve had more success introducing people to new things, especially since you have specific elements you think I would enjoy. So, I will try out your suggestion.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with my impulse reaction? I probably know of one’s you’ll enjoy more,” Mc asked, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. Fruits Basket was one of the first anime she’s found on her own, and it still stood as one of her favorites. If Satan, who’s opinion she really valued, ended up hating it…

“I find I can trust your intuition most of the time. We also have similar tastes in regards to literature.”

“Oh… Well, I do have a copy of the first volume in my room if you want.”

“You have a copy here in the Devildom?”

“Mmmhmm. I ordered the whole set off of Akuzon after I found out Levi hadn’t read it.”

“I see. In that case, sure.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Mc smiled to herself the whole way back to her room. Though she was still a bit nervous, but after hearing Satan praise her tastes in literature, she was feeling more confident, “If I can at least get him to acknowledge it’s worth, I’ll feel accomplished.”

After grabbing the first volume, she thought for a second and grabbed the second. She put them in her book bag, and started on the familiar route to his room. All the brothers had a defined smell to their room, though Satan’s had always been the easiest for her to find. The smell of books started the moment you turned down the hallway his room was on. Standing in front of his dark wood door, she took a deep breath, knocked, then entered.

Satan was not where she had left him, which was kind of odd to her. Carefully avoiding a stack of books she had knocked over on a previous occasion, she started looking around, “Satan?”

There was some shuffling, and then his voice came from above, “You’re back quicker than I thought you would be. Come on up.”

Wait… What? Up the spiral staircase? For real? Everyone knew how rare it was to be allowed up to the second story of Satan’s room. No one went up without express permission. Even Mammon stayed out after being hexed so many times he’d lost feeling on the side of his big toe. Mc had only been up there once, and that was because Satan had wanted to show off his newest rare book. She had only been allowed to sit in the single armchair he had up theorem and she couldn’t touch anything, and for good reason. Satan kept his oldest, rarest, and most important books up there. He had even put a spell on every book up there to preserve them, and, if rumor was correct, a barrier that stopped him from going up there was he was upset. Aside from the few grimories and numerous magic books he had up there were rare human finds as well, all originals or first editions. One of Shakespeare’s folios. DaVinci’s Codex of Leicester. The Babylonian Talmud as well as an exemplified copy of the Magna Carter, both copies that the rest of the world didn’t know existed. A Gutenberg Bible, though his brother’s had no idea he had it. A collection of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Even an original copy of the Kama Sutra, which Asmo had given to him as a birthday present.

Getting to the top of the stairs, Mc stopped, not wanting to get too close to any of the books. Looking around, she couldn’t repress the sigh that emerged unbidden to her lips. Soft lighting that was perfect for reading with the spines of all the ancient books facing the world. Scrolls rested in their holders on the far wall. And there was the fourth eldest, crouched near one of the shelves, hand to his mouth and a furrow in his brow, thinking hard about something. His blonde hair had an almost golden hue in the light and his green eyes sparkled.

At the sigh, he looked up and smiled, “Go ahead and have a seat.”

Mc nodded and started over towards the chair she’d sat in the one other time she’d been allowed up here, but stopped halfway. The chair she sat on last time was still there, but now there was another chair. They looked fairly similar, being big reading chairs, but the new addition was much less worn and was more feminine in design. Having found the book he was looking for, Satan walked past Mc, and sat in the larger of the two chairs, effectively showing Mc which chair to take. After sitting down, she had to take a moment. It was by far, the most comfortable chair she’s ever sat in.

“I take it you like the chair then. Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “I made sure it was large enough that you can curl your feet up on the seat like you do when you’re reading.”

“Wait… This is for me?”

“Of course. You need your own place to sit and read when you’re up here.”

Mc was at a loss for words, the gesture speaking volumes, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just promise you’ll keep coming over for our reading nights; that’s all I ask.”

“That’s the easiest promise in the world to keep! Of course I will!”

Satan smiled again, one of the real smiles she’d been gifted with more and more frequently, “That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Now, where’s this book you were talking about?”

“Yes, hold on,” Mc turned and grabbed it from her bag, “So, these are collector’s editions, so I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be careful, but…”

“No problem,” Satan replied, taking the book, “If you’d indulge me, I also have a story I want you to read,” and he grabbed the book he had gotten from the shelf, “Do you remember the mystery author I told you about?”

“Yeah. Isn’t his name A. Cohen?”

“That’s the one. Well, I was wondering if you’d read his books while I read yours? I know mystery isn’t necessarily your favorite genre, but -” Satan cut off, looking down at Mc’s hand on his arm.

“I’d be more than happy to,” Mc beamed.

Satan smiled, “Glad to hear it. Now, these books are hard to come by in the Devildom. Please be careful with them. I happened to find a box set of his complete works, so replacing it would be pretty hard. The first one is Blind Intrigue.”

“Got it. Not that I wouldn’t be uber careful with anything you have up here.”

Satan laughed, “Well, I appreciate that,” and he opened the manga volume.

“Oh, did anyone tell you the way to read manga?”

“You read it right to left, correct?”

“Yes, including the speech bubbles. So, you’d read a page like this,” and Mc proceeded to show the way a page should be read.

“Ah. That would have been helpful last time. Thank you.”

“No problem,” and with that, they both started reading. Mc found Blind Intrigue very intriguing, enjoying that it wasn’t just another run-of-the-mill murder mystery. As she got further into the book, she subconsciously slipped off her shoes, and curled her feet up next to her. She almost forgot about the demon next to her. A sudden shift next to her brought her back to reality.

“I finished it.”

“Ah… W… What do you think?”

“It is much better than Levi’s suggestion. I am interested in continuing the series.”

“… If you want, I did bring the second volume with me…”

“You did?”

“Mmmhmm. I was hoping you’d like it enough to want the second volume…”

“Well, you did ask that I read until the third volume, so sure.”

“Mc beamed as she grabbed for the second volume, after safely tucking the mystery novel between the chair and her legs.

“So, are you enjoying Blind Intrigue?”

“Yes! It is really good. I like that it’s an actual mystery novel, a lot like the Sherlock Holmes stories. Most mystery novels revolve around a murder, but since this one dpesn’t, I like it more.”

“Very good,” Satan said while handing her the first volume back, “So, who’s your favorite character?”

“Huh? In Blind Intrigue or Fruits Basket?”

“Fruits Basket.”

“Ah, Momiji.”

“He reminds me too much of Mammon.”

“I… Guess? Just… give him some time. He’s really great.”

“So… who’s your second favorite?”

“Well, Momiji is my favorite favorite. Kyo is my main character favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I have a feeling you’ll really end up liking him.”

“Ah, well, good to know,” Satan said, as Mc handed him the second volume.

There was silence for awhile until Satan burst out laughing. Mc looked up expecting him to share, but he kept reading; a sign he really liked the story. Pretending to go back to reading, Mc snuck a glance at Satan. He had a content smile on his face, and was even further along in the book than she had thought he would be. She smiled, feeling satisfied and a little vindicated in her choice.

Mc was about halfway through Blind Intrigue when she heard Satan shift on his chair. She looked over to find him sitting with the second volume closed and eyes on her. She in turn closed his book, waiting for him to speak.

“If the rest of the series is this high of quality, I definitely want to finish it.”

Satan helped Mc transport the rest of the volumes to his room that day. Though he really loved the series, he would only read it when Mc was around. As she now had a chair upstairs, Satan suggested they read up there, and he began sharing all the amazing books he had up there with her. It was nice for Mc, especially since none of the other brothers knew she was allowed up there. Satan finished Fruits Basket fairly quickly, not quite gushing about how much he loved the characters and story, asking Mc if she had any other manga recommendations. She was more than happy to oblige. Soon, Satan was reading manga whenever Mc was in his room, but only when she was in his room.

He didn’t like manga that were all trope and no substance, but he would try anything Mc brought him since she usually brought “good manga”. One of his favorites was Jo Jo’s Bizarre Adventures. It came as a surprise to him when, one day he declared a series to be his second favorite, after Fruits Basket, and Mc told him it was a series that Levi had gotten her into.

“You know, I’m sure he’d love discussing it with you…”

“Wait. You think I should go waltzing into his room and say, ‘Hey Levi, I really enjoy The Watchman’s Spell and am all caught up on it. We should talk about it’?”

“Well, yeah, basically. I’ll be there to referee, so I can help if needed. I almost never see you two hanging out together, and I actually think you two have more in common than you realize.”

“He just gets so long winded about… whatever. He also acts childish at times.”

“I do those too.”

“You will apologize though. He will not,” Satan paused a second, and then continued quieter, “Plus, it’s different when you do it.”

“Have you ever considered that he doesn’t back down or stop because he feels like no one cares what he thinks or what his interests are?”

Satan stopped, his retort lost. Was that really why? He considered again, and then turned to Mc, “Okay, I’ll do it, but he’s not invited to our reading nights.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Levi didn’t take the news the way Mc would’ve liked.

“Wha… Mc, w-w-what are you t-talking about?”

“I’ve been showing Satan some manga and he’s liked some of them. I think you should show him some too since you know waaaaaaay more than I do. He really loved Watchman’s Spell.”

Levi seemed scared but also irritated, “You had him read Watchman’s Spell?! Why?!”

“I… I thought he’d appreciate it and when he did, I thought you’d be excited to have someone new to talk to about it…”

“I have the entire internet to talk to about it, plus you. Why would I want-” Levi broke off, scowling as he turned away, but then rounded back on Mc, “Are you doing this to make fun of me? Are you tired of me, and so you’re trying to pawn me off on someone else? What, are you using your pact to make Satan act like he’s interested in talking to me?”

“No, Levi, listen to-”

“Glad to hear it, because you’re not getting rid of me, ya normie! You’re the one that wanted to make a pact, so you’re stuck with me! We’re also best friends so you better-”

“Levi!” Mc grabbed his face with both hands, worried as she saw his tail appear. She had expected some jealousy, but nothing this bad.

Levi stopped. Having Mc this close to his face made his mind go completely blank.

“Just because I expanded Satan’s literary horizons does not change the fact we’ve already discussed our wifeoo’s. It doesn’t erase all the time we’ve spent watching and discussing TSL. All the raids we’ve gone on, owning all the noobs… Though I’m kind of a noob… The point is, Lord of Shadows, your Henry is trying to get the Lord of Masks and you to become friends, just like with the Lord of Fools.”

Levi screwed up his face, bringing up his hand to hide behind. Mc let go, feeling the tension leave the room.

After turning and composing himself a bit (Did Mc just hold my face?!?!?!?), Levi turned, lifting his eyes to Satan, who was simply watching him, “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Zeke.”

“He’s actually my second favorite.”

“Who is your favorite then?”

“Brielle.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that she seems like the type of character you’d enjoy. She’s not bad. In fact, I enjoy the dynamic she brings to the tower.”

“Well, she became my favorite when she stopped the entire colony from starting an uprising against Charles when they thought he was keeping them from going home.”

“That was chapter 5 right?”

“Y-yes, actually!” Levi smiled, his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree, as he started discussing the plot and fan theories with his brother. Satan responded to all his prompts or listened quietly, occasionally adding his own thoughts. He was being more patient than Mc had ever seen him be with Levi, and even seemed to be enjoying himself.

Good, Mc thought, watching the two bond, They both needed someone to get them out of their own head. At least I know I can leave these two without too many regrets.

Mc hadn’t brought up the fact her year was almost up to any of the brothers. She didn’t know if any of them had realized how close it was. She was not looking forward to leaving, but she knew she couldn’t let them just revert back to the way they had been, especially Satan. They had all come too far.

“Mc has an interesting thought on this subject actually. Mc, what are you doing over there? Come over here!”

“Coming!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan traced his fingers along Mc’s chair. Of course he’d gotten the chair for her so she could be more comfortable, but also to have a piece of her after she’d left. He hadn’t realized how much it would come to mean to him.

He pulled out his DDD, starting to flip through all the photos he’d snuck of her. Her, next to him. Her being so careful with his books. Her, sleeping in his bed, hair splayed across the pillow. He couldn’t count the number of times her scent had kept him from going after one of his brothers since she’d left.

He knew he was being reclusive, and she wouldn’t have liked that. But, weren’t they all being reclusive?

He sat down, head sinking into his hands, DDD put on the arm of the chair. Why did she have to leave? She had been such a breath of fresh air, so willing to discuss anything and everything with him. He had been able to open up to her, and she’d accepted him just as he was. No strings attached. For the first time in his life, he’d felt unique. Wanted. Needed. No longer alone.

He knew she’d been that way with all of them, but… It felt like she’d specifically picked him. He hadn’t been particularly interested in the human living with them, other than to see what she was doing to his brothers. She had been the one to approach him about books. She had been the one to pick his brain. She had read almost every book he’d suggested. He was special… Right?

He hadn’t noticed the tears until he opened his eyes and only saw a blurry floor, “If I’m special, why didn’t she…”

Mc had given each brother a gift when she left. When it was his turn, she’d whispered something in his ear, but she’d been crying so her words had caught. He couldn’t make out the words then, and even though he’d run them through his head more times than he could count, he couldn’t figure out what she’d said. She’d been so beautiful standing there, fresh tears ready to fall. And then… she was gone.

He had isolated himself for a week afterwards. He hadn’t been in the House of Lamentation though. Too many memories. In some small shack in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere he could release all his feelings and hurt no one.

As he was about to get up, a white blur caught his eye. Blinking, he bent over and picked it up. It was a letter. He turned it over, his heart jumping when he recognized Mc’s handwriting. He traced the letters of his name, hands shaking. He then carefully opened the letter and started reading,

My Dear Satan,

Seems you were able to hear what I said when I left. Good. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get it out.

Anyways, I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t give you your gift in front of everyone else. Not only is it too heavy, but you’re too special to me for them to be part of the gift.

I wish I could tell you everything in my heart right now, but I don’t want to cheapen anything. I will return to you so please be patient and wait until then.

If you would, please go check on Levi for me. I can tell you right now, he’s not okay right now. He gets so lost in his own head and I worry about him. I leave him in your stead until I get back.

Satan, always remember: You are important. You deserve every ounce of love you can get. You also have the right to feel whatever you are feeling. You are not your brother, and I never want you comparing yourself to him, because you are an individual. I may not always be there with you, but never forget: you may not have had control over your birth, but that is not what defines you. You are so much more than a word.

Love,

P.S. I just realized you never told me. Who is your favorite Fruits Basket character?

Satan had never moved so fast down his staircase. Why had he chosen a spiral staircase? He was so eager, he almost knocked over the book pile he was looking for. When he saw what was behind it, he sank to his knees and gathered every Fruits Basket volume in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Levi was moping around his room when there was a knock on the door. For a second he thought it was Mc, but then realized she was gone, making himself sad all over again. He shuffled over to the door, and opened it.

There stood Satan with… manga… and, puffy eyes?

“Hey, can we hang out?” Satan asked.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update: I now have a part two to this story and here’s the link

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #satan x mc

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aliypop · 4 years

Text

Simpatia

Word Count: 2,225

Character Count: 11,925

Warning: themes of trauma mentioned, Mentions of Rape, and all things Hannibal like

A/N: I really really hope you guys enjoy this fic it’s a part two to Empatia and more of Shanel Mahone please let me know if you guys enjoy it!

"Sometimes I think the curse is gone...Days or even months, pass in peace but then, without warning it stirs... like malaria." Shanel said, her grip on the black leather seat hard almost causing scratches on it, It had been only a week since she and Hannibal had, had dinner together, and neither party wanted to bring anything up about it which made her think that maybe it was for the better,

Hannibal watched her fidget in her seat, pulling at her clothes, specifically at her white buttoned-down shirt, almost as if it were choking her, "One month I can forget that it all,"

"That it all what.." Hannibal asked curiously as to what she would have said next, setting his notepad aside on his desk he could smell the fear on her, not from him but from something else though he'd push to even say that it was from somebody else, "Happened," she responded her tapping her heels and slouching in the seat making herself almost seem swallowed whole by the space around her which was already dark and bleak, she couldn't run and hide from the bad guy in her nightmares nor could she push the memories of what he told her didn't happen away either,

"Our scars have the power to remind us our past was real.." Hannibal gave her a soft smile and a comforting handhold,

"DON'T! do that..." she removed her hand away from his as quick as she could, to her it felt as if time was frozen and that everything she did had only slowly begun to catch up to her, standing to her feet like a rushing whirlwind only made doctor Lector's analyzation on her stronger, of course, he had known for her to lash out on themes that he might have mentioned in their sessions, but nothing to the point that it made her end their discussion so early,

"I really should head back to work.." she mumbled, walking out the door, "Same time next week?" she asked as he only nodded back in response. Her office, however, was only a door down from his, a bleak walk that felt like death row with the gloomy winter skies painting the background of her office she only felt more alone and swallowed whole by her own guilt and shame of her past, something that felt like an anchor on her life still she refused to tell her own therapist about these things, for example, her reoccurring nightmares, flashbacks, or how she secretly fell that she would never be enough and therefore became a lawyer in a country where no one knew who she was,

"Ms. Mahone, are you okay?"

"Just another bad day, any calls Carlos," she asked, her breathing still shaky as if she had finished running a mile. Carlos was an intern of the Mahone law firm which dealt with sexually, heinous crimes and was more so a cover-up business for what she really did, but that was only a secret shared between her and Hannibal,

"Not that I know of, but Will dropped off the files for the Hobbs case," he shrugged handing her the files her curled up hair pressed to her forehead, taking the yellowish envelope she rushed into her office, slamming the door behind her making it her sanctuary, one that tended to either blare 80's music and or classical operatic melodies, grew silent the only thing that she could hear was the robotic ringing of her office phone, in which she refused to answer until it rang for the tenth time,

"Hello," she answered listening to the crisp silence of the call,

" la mia piccola puttana,"

"I.. I don't understand..." she began trembling and shaking under her desk as she repeated to herself that what she had just heard was unreal, "The.. letters and.. the gifts.. you,"

"I wanted you to forgive me, to trust me... ya know ever since I treated you bad I wanted to make it up to you," a condescending tone in his voice, this, however, was the same man who had taken the wrongful liberties of turning her into what she was today a closed-in private life woman who didn't know what love was nor did she understand the purpose of trusting someone let alone think about it, this was the man who hurt her so badly she killed him, or so she thought,

"I don't want anything from you," her voice gave out wavering, like a candle in the wind alone by itself.

"I thought that maybe we could talk, go on a ride as we used to when you were 12, just me and my little puttana," he could feel the way she had nearly shrunk into herself every time he had even uttered the letters to the name that he used to call her, it still reminded him of the power that kept her down enough for him to use her again like old times, Shanel put the phone back on the hook hoping that it would be the end to his scheme, but like most, she was dead wrong, the side of her suit had vibrated, indicating that she had just received a text which read,

"I see you,"

Peaking her head out from under her desk she could only see what looked like ebony black hair and an olive skin man standing in the parking lot next to her pink sports car, trying to steady herself using her office chair, keeping her head held low, walking down the hallways made her feel as if she were heading towards death row with a bag over her face and two prosecutors carrying her down towards the sweet electric chair which she could hear it buzzing like a song in her ear,

" Lack of trust in other people increases the need for religion. If you can't rely on others, you'll have to rely on god,"

She heard the voice of Hannibal say, looking around herself it was almost as if she had transported herself to a museum of some sort where every picture was everything that she was able to remember some that were good and some that weren't,

"Where am I... where are we?" she asked turning to the blonde hair psychiatrist who was dressed in something completely different than what she had remembered from earlier, she too was also dressed differently, wearing red as he wore white,

"Your mind palace, and as I see, you've built quite the wall around it... tell me Shanel will you let yours fall eventually.." he asked her watching the way her features fell soft when she was around him, letting him see the sides of her that she wanted him to, nothing less and nothing more to it, besides what was a monster if you loved it she had always figured, walking alongside him sitting down to admire the "art" around them,

"About earlier I-"

"Good you're up.." a hand caress her cheek as she was bent over what felt to be a couch underneath her, a knife was pressed against her leg as it slowly began to peel away her brown skin revealing what was under her skin the beautiful red of O positive blood rushed down her leg staining her tan heels, as he began digging the knife deeper into her skin as if she were a pig and he was checking for fat,

"Scream, and I'll kill ya," he grabbed her cheeks pushing her head further down onto the couch, she could hear him unzip his pants, and his satisfied breathing in her ear, silent tears fell from her face her body frozen just like it used to be when Christopher attacked her, though most times his buddies in the mob would join along with him,

"Now be a good princess and let father Christoph-" she took her heel gouging out his eyeballs blooding up her suit,

"I can't see! " he shouted as Shanel then searched into the couch cushion finding a pistol in which she loaded and cocked the gun feeling his hand on her thigh crawling up further under her skirt as her finger found the trigger pointing the barrel at his head, then at his arm blowing a hole right between his shoulder watching him scream in agony,

"That was how you made me feel, for 13 years !" she shot at him, "13 miserable years, and now it's time to make you pay for it all.." her voice was now a hushed whisper as she watched him beg an plead to her as if she were God, but unlike him, she was unforgiving, the murderess that killed those who hurt the one's who killed those who hurt in the inside, the judge of wicked the wrong and the unrighteous,

"May he have mercy on your soul.." she mumbled under her breath, taking the final blow to his head, the FBI had then begun to bust into the room watching before them the renowned and loved lawyer covered in blood staggering back and forth as she in a blurry panic saw what looked to be Hannibal falling into his arms, Will only sighed seeing the shoe that was lodged deep into his eye cavity and the other that seemed to show the deep scalping of his head, the crime was far worse than anything he had seen so far in his profiling classes,

"I'll take her to paramedics.." Jack tapped Will on the back as he shook his head,

Shanel laid there in the hospital hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor as well as a few other machines to check her breathing and her vital signs, as Hannibal sat there waiting for her spring to life he contemplated on looking at the wonderful spread of parts near him, but also the beauty of getting to know her true soul, thinking back go the night they shared dinner together made him think about how he wanted to keep her around as his and only his for as long of the time he could get the FBI off his scent, roses surrounded her, but still her beauty had out shown them all, Watching her fingers move around his own chased him out of the scattering waves of thoughts causing him to break away from the rushing noises around him,

"You're up I see," he smiled up at the wounded lawyer, who this time didn't remove her hand from his own, turning her head slowly to look towards him she could sense a new aurora around him a gentle one that almost shocked her in a way,

" I assume you saw everything.." she asked him

" I did," he squeezed her hand reassuring her, watching her turn away from him,

"I assume you think me a monster then.." she suggested a chuckle leaving her mouth her bringing a new piece of music to be written to his ears,

" Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?" he asked her, taking her hand up to his lips kissing her knuckles in an adoring fashion,

"I was nearly raped today, and you think by kissing my knuckles, I'll just fall under your charm .. and yet you won't even talk about our dinner.." she pulled her hand away from his "If I never see you again then clearly I would be -"

"Lonely .. hurt again, drowning deeper in regret then what you already suffer in, feeling that no one will ever love you," he suggested watching her squirm uncomfortably from how correct he was,

"I've already made arrangements for you to live with me, think of it a partnership.." he smiled,

"My apartment is fine.." she growled at him, turning away hiding her blush from him, she knew that she belonged next to him like Persephone alongside Hades. He was her match in every plausible way, but she couldn't let her guard down,

"Not from the notes left there, let alone the state that you're in, and as I am currently your doctor, I know what's best for you.." he suggested, hearing her become silent,

"You only know what I allow you to know.." she snarled at him, " which isn't much... besides, I hunt alone," she glared into his maroon eyes deep down into the very last inch of soul left in him,

"If you want to catch an Egale you better learn to fly doctor lec-" she felt a quick peck on the lips her eyes wide as the very breath in her lungs was taken away from her eyes flickering, and lips puckering up for more,

"Say you'll stay.." he asked her, as the taste of him lingered on her lips, he had a taste of honey and oak with the sheer sleek taste of iron on his tongue O negative to be exact, the blood of Christopher himself peppered over rice,

"We'll have an old friend of yours for dinner.." he suggested watching her nod in utter bliss, "You'll hunt, and I'll gather," he asked her

" The wicked the wrong and unrighteous .." she looked at him,

"And the Rude.." He asked

"What?"

"When feasible one should always eat the rude.," he smiled petting her curls taking in her scent,

#nbc hannibal #hannibal #hannibal x oc #will graham #fanfiction #hannibal fanfiction #fannibals #new #story #shanel mahone #mentions of trauma

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