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daughters-and-winsisters · 5 years

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Huntress- Part 21: Realignment

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E21 so warning:SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty

Sam and Dean didn’t bother knocking. They swung the motel door open, distraught and desperate. Sam was quieter than usual, panicked. And Dean was angry. Since the last hunt, Y/N had been missing. They’d ran after Max to help him out and when they came back to the Impala, where Sam had last seen her, she was gone. The boys sought their Mother for help, but the motel room was empty.

The brothers shared a look of fear. “Dean, Y/N’s gone. And now Mom’s gone…I don’t-“ “Sammy, look at me,” Dean ordered, “we’re gonna find them. We will.” Sam nodded at his brother, his phone's rings breaking the silence. “Hey Jody,” he answered, “No…no I hadn’t heard…oh God…what happened? Alright…well thanks for telling me. See ya.” “What happened?” Dean asked, picking at the pieces of paper on the desk. “Eileen…she got mauled to death by an animal, supposedly. But she wasn’t in Ireland.” “So she was running from something?” Dean said. “I guess,” Sam shrugged, “That’s like the third Hunter death in two weeks. That can’t be a coincidence.” “Well if Mom’s not on the road she’s usually bunking with the Brits, but Mick’s not answering his calls still…” “Maybe call Ketch?” Sam suggested, hating those words but knowing it was necessary. He watched Dean reluctantly take his phone, his mind elsewhere. If anything had happened to his girl…or his Mom…he wouldn’t know what to do.

“Hey Ketch it’s Dean…Winchester! Right well we’re looking for Mom, have u seen her? I’m not being rude! Listen, I don’t want a manners lesson I just wanna speak to my Mom!” he sighed angrily and hugged an, “Alright…bye.” “Any luck?” Sam asked. He was fidgeting with his phone, flipping it in his hands nervously. “Said he hasn’t heard from her in weeks,” Dean said bitterly, “but they had a case a few days back so he’s definitely lying.” “Chances are whatever’s happened to Mom has happened to Y/N.” Sam nodded.“Let’s go.”

_______________________________________________________________

Sam stared down at Eileen’s body, holding back tears. He bit his lip and looked away, down at his hands where they shook. He’d lost a friend and he was scared he’d lost a daughter. “Seven Hunter deaths.” Dean mumbled.

“And those are just the ones we know about.” Sam nodded.“So what, did monsters start working together?”

“Dean, we know that demons and monsters don’t just team up,” Sam began, starting to panic, “this is something else. No one’s heard from Mom, Cas is missing and we have no idea where the hell Y/N is! Ketch is lying to us and Mick won’t pick up the damn phone! I- I wanna punch something in the face!”

“Good,” Dean said blankly, “hold on to that. Use it.” Dean glanced at Eileen before adding, “If this is a hell hound then we know what that means.”

________________________________________________________________

You blinked awake, taking a good few seconds to gather your surroundings. It was cold. You were hooked up to some sort of IV drip looking machine, with needles jabbed into your hands. You sat up and looked about the room, immediately recognising it as Men of Letters. It was where they had attempted to realign you, where they had injected you with some sort of brainwashing fluid, only it hadn’t worked on you for reasons unknown. The room was large and circular, whitewashed walls with metallic greys to separate the clinical look. There was the bed, the machinery and the door. It was locked shut. There was also a camera in the top right corner. There were footsteps outside every now and then.Your head was aching, but you felt okay so you tore the needles from their grips in your veins, wincing a little as they came out, before tossing them aside. The door handle twisted and you adjusted so you were sat perched on the side, legs swinging beneath.

In walked Toni. Brilliant.

“Ah, Brooks. Long time no see.” Despite the greeting she looked cold and showed no emotion, not even her usual pride. “Alright?” You said, not sure what else to say or do. She stared for a little while, so you reluctantly added, “What happened?” “You were already out cold on the grass, unconscious and ready for the taking. You could have died so really you should be thanking us.” “I could have died?” “Yes. Your brain activity was fluctuating significantly. And your heart was barely beating. So now it’s my turn to ask you, what happened?” “Why should I tell you?” You spat. Truth was, you had no idea what had happened. You’d had another wave of pain and that was all you could remember. Toni smiled ever so slightly, “Just as I suspected. You have no idea what’s happening, do you?”You examined her expression worriedly. Of course, it gave nothing away, but you were desperate for answers. “Y/N,” Toni began, folding her arms over her chest, “do you know why the realignments never worked on you? We initially thought it was genetics, but your Mother switched just fine, didn’t she?” You winced at the mention of your Mum, you didn’t like to think about what she became. “Such a shame we had to kill her,” Toni smirked, “but we had to see whether your brain would succumb if it was vulnerable. A brain in mourning, distraught and ready to be manipulated. It’s the perfect target for realignment.”

“And yet here I am.” You smiled sweetly.

“I would tell you, but I’m having far too much fun. Perhaps tomorrow, but then again…perhaps not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got your Father and Uncle to kill.” She smirked, holding her gaze with you long enough to make you look away. You hoped to God that your Dad and Uncle Dean were smart enough to know she was coming. As the door slammed shut, the handle locked into place and the light buzzed a taunting red. A scowl grew upon your face. You stood from the bed, a little unsteady, but good enough to walk.

There was a low hum of electricity in the air, at least you thought that's what it was and they watched you through the camera with intrigue. A few hours went by and you circled the room countless times. Truth be told, you were scared. You'd forgotten what it was like to be without a family. It was too easy to be comfortably surrounded by loved one's so much so that when they are gone, even for a day, it somehow doesn't even feel real. Your feet were beginning to drag and you could no longer hear footsteps.

The hum became louder and you glanced around in attempt to locate the noise, but wherever you turned it sounded exactly the same. That was when you realised it was coming from inside your head. Thoughts were overpowered by the echoing drone that circled your mind like a vulture would it's prey. You fell to the ground when it became unbearable, letting out a grunt as you hit the cold tiles underneath your shivering body. There were voices first, loud and harsh against your ears. It was your Dad and your Uncle. You then heard the grumbling of the Impala's engine, muffled by a third voice. One you knew all too well- Toni. An image made it's way past the fog, what was this, some kind of vision?

"Why are you spying on us?" Your Dad pointed his gun at Toni, who smugly sat in the backseats, "Where the hell is Y/N? Oh, and what do you know about Eileen Leahy?" Toni's face tilted, "Who?" "Did you-" Uncle Dean paused to rephrase, "Did your people kill her?" "Probably," Toni smirked, "rule of thumb, if you think we killed someone. We probably did. Oh and speaking of, you do realise that by attacking me the British Men of Letters will come after you. No investigation or trial. Just death. Possibly, at the hands of Mary Winchester." Your Dad and Uncle shared a puzzled look. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" Uncle Dean pushed. "Your mother is our permanent guest." "So she's your prisoner?" Your Dad huffed. "Oh no Mary's joined the team!" Toni grinned. She was enjoying this way too much. "You're lying." Your Dad said. "Maybe." "Just because she worked with Ketch it doesn't mean she liked him." "Oh no I think they did a little more than work together." "What about Mick?" Your Dad asked, quick to change the subject. "Mick?" Toni was genuinely surprised by this, "Oh, Mick's dead. Was deemed too sentimental for the job. Rather like you two really. I suppose this mean's Y/N doesn't know? Can't wait to tell her we killed her own step-Dad."

Sam's face dropped, "Step-Dad?" "Oh, she hadn't told you? Mick married Rebecca almost ten years ago. Mick practically raised Y/N. Imagine," Toni laughed to herself, "that could have been you. Teaching her to walk, to talk, her first day of school, her last day of school-" "Stop it!" Your Dad shouted, making even Dean jump a little, "Where is she?" Toni stayed silent, but held her usual smug smile. "WHERE IS SHE?!" Toni leaned in very slowly, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

You gasped and coughed and held your head, hanging it over yourself as though you were ill. You felt shivery. So, on top of everything else that has happened, you can now...see things? Great. It was pretty terrifying, considering you had no control over these visions, but it made sense now, why the realignment hadn't worked on you. These powers must have stopped it in some way. You thought back to the vision and froze. Mick was dead... He was gone...Okay, so he wasn't your Dad and you didn't exactly think the world of him, but your Mum did. You knew it sounded silly, but he was almost a reminder of your Mum. And now he was gone...just like everyone else...

The door opened and there stood Ketch. You glanced at him, unsure what to do. "Brooks." He nodded. "Winchester." You corrected, glaring at him. He smiled an unreadable smile and you noticed Mary behind him. At first you were uplifted at the sight of her, but soon remembered what you'd heard. It was true. Her eyes were cold and almost void of recognition. "Get her, and we'll be on our way." Ketch ordered.

Mary did as told and headed for you. Her walk was militarian and each footstep turned the tiles into war-zones. "Get up." She ordered. "Well, aren't you going to do as Grandmother asks?" Ketch smiled. You were smart enough to wait for an escape rather than to make one, so you stood and let her grasp your arm. She tugged you along, down hallways and through doors. Doors that were once locked for her and opened for you. ________________________________________________________________

"Mary," You dared to open your mouth, wanting some kind of a reaction from her that showed recognition, "do you even know who I am?" When it had been your mother she forgot who you were. Mary didn't have that expression yet. Her eyes were cold, but they were almost resisting something, something your Mum didn't have a chance to resist. "Of course I know who you are," Mary hissed, "I'm not an idiot."

You were all stood outside the Bunker, Ketch was fiddling with the door, a few trained Men of Letters were stood around him and Mary was holding you at gunpoint. For some reason, it didn't feel as terrifying as you'd think. This wasn't the first time you'd been threatened like-so and something told you it wouldn't be your last either. The door finally opened and Ketch signalled for you all to follow, his sly gaze lingering on you. Mary grabbed you, her arm snaking round your neck and the other pressing the barrel of a gun to your temple. She had a tight grip and there was no way you were getting out of it at that moment.

You spoke up, but only so Mary could hear you, "What are we doing?" "Shut up!" She nudged the gun as a reminder and started leading you down the steps of the bunker.

"Positions everyone, Mary take Y/N round that way and don't come out until needed. If she tries to escape just shoot her. She makes good leverage, but she's not that useful." Ketch ordered. Nice to know, you thought.

Okay. Scratch not being scared because now Ketch had given it the all clear there was a very good chance that Mary would shoot you.

Mary ducked down the steps out of site of the main room and dragged you with her, "Don't try anything." "Wouldn't dream of it, Gran." You sighed, feeling her arm tighten around your neck a little. After a few minutes of silence the bunker door re-opened and you heard Uncle De, "So, we're clear? You call Ketch and tell him if he wants to see you alive he gets his prissy ass over here."

Presumably, he was talking to Toni. You thought about that, the flashback vision thing, and wondered if you could use whatever these powers were to escape. Only, it didn't seem to be the sort of thing you could control, but rather just something that happened every now and again, whether you liked it or not.

"Interestingly, his prissy arse is already here." Ketch said in his irritatingly posh voice. You cringed and rolled your eyes, but still remained very aware of Mary's hold over you. "Lady Bevell," Ketch continued, "would you mind disarming them?" Something must have sparked at that moment as gun shots began to ring out. Cries of pain, cries for help and strangely quiet intermittent moments followed. Mary peered round the corner of the wall and you couldn't see a thing. However, in the slight loosen of the grip you seized the opportunity and ducked away, spinning on the spot and readying yourself for an attack.

Without a moments hesitation, Mary aimed at you and fired.

________________________________________________________________

Dean's POV

I watched Sammy, waiting for the all-clear to go. When he gestured I looped round the back of the walls, gun at the ready. I shot one dead and kept going, ears open and eyes alert. When I saw Ketch with his back to me I raced over and snatched the gun from his grip, holding it against his temple. “Hey!" I snapped, trying to stop him from trying anything.

Sam stepped forward from the safety of the walls, still dragging Toni with him. She had a disappointed scowl on her face. "Where's Y/N? And where's our Mom?!" He demanded.

I pushed, jerking the gun on his head, "Where are they?!" Ketch did his usual smirk before he opened his mouth to start talking, but he didn't even get a word in as footsteps sounded. I glanced up to-

What?

No...

This didn't make any sense....

Mom was there, gun in hand. But she was gripping hold of Y/N as though Y/N was...one of them? Her arm was round her in the same way Sam's was around Toni. Like a kidnapping and human shield all in one. This was leverage. "Don't move." Mom said, glaring at us. I frowned and caught Y/N's gaze. She was staring right at me, trying to get across something I couldn't translate through a stare. She looked scared. Sam, who had his back to them, said "Perfect timing, Mom..." but he trailed off when he met my confused gaze, shooting a questioning frown back. When Ketch tried to duck from gunpoint, I raised the gun and said, "You heard her." "I was talking to you."

Moms' words took a second to go in. I looked at her, lost, "Mom?"

That's when I noticed the bullet wound on Y/N's shoulder, fresh blood seeping through her shirt and her limp arm. She wasn't just scared, she was hurt.

Mom fired, the bullet ringing out as it marked a hole in the wall. A deliberate miss. In my shock, ketch leapt from gunpoint and took the guns back from me. Stumbling, I watched as Sam flinched and backed up.

"I really wouldn't move, she will shoot you." Ketch warned, pointing a gun at each of us. Mom's face was empty of emotion as she strode towards Sammy, taking the gun from him. As she did so, she let go of Y/N, practically shoving her into her Dad. Y/N winced in pain and raised her now free other hand to her wound. Sammy's eyes landed on her bloodied shoulder and I felt his guilt. “Hey, hey, you okay?” Sammy’s gentle voice consoled his kid.

Toni stepped away from us, "Mummy always was a talented hunter. Just somewhat confused about obeying orders. Only this time," Toni took a pause to look Y/N in the eye, "the treatment will work." I put two and two together and realised that must have been what happened to Y/N's Mom. Some kind of issue with this brainwashing thing...or something along those lines. God I wanted to kick all their asses for what they did to that poor kid.

"What did you do to her?" Sam asked, nodding at Mom. I could already see him trying to come up with a cure in his head. Straight to the logistics of it, as always. He had a hand on Y/N and took a step in front of her. I was frozen.

"And I suppose you've heard," Ketch added, "American Hunters are a dying breed." Toni began to walk after him, back to her pack, but halted when he turned around, gun aimed right at her. "Where do you think you're going?" He spat. "Ketch?" The betrayal in her voice rang out. "Remember at Kendricks how they all taught us that we were expendable...that wasn't idle chat."

"Mom?" I finally stammered out, willing myself to take a step forward, "look at me. It's us...please" I felt my voice beginning to shake as she did nothing but point her guns and stare at us like you would look at a passing train that wasn't yours to catch. "Your bunker is an excellent fortress," Ketch said, ignoring me entirely, "and an even better tomb. So we've rejiggered the locks, we've shut off the water and the pumps responsible for your oxygen will run out in two...maybe three...days," he smiled, "you dying in here. It's almost...poetic."

I ran for the door the moment they’d turned their backs, racing up the steps and leaping for the handle. It wouldn't budge, but I tried again anyway. In anger I kicked at it, crying out. This can't be it. We can't die like this. Not after everything.

The lights turned to a doomsday red, the humming of the oxygen pumps lowered into reverse and I stared in dismay at the darkness of the bunker.

Part 22: Promise

Masterlist I do not own these gifs (Tag list after cut )

@bellero

@reddeputation @analisespn

@barbygrozna @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @chelseypaigeake @impala-hunter @msdooos @starswirlblitz @fanboyswhereare-you @amorluzymelodia @d-willem @adidabach @booksarecoolio @winchesters-favorite-girl @squirels-angels-and-moose @27bmm @practicallyawinchester @demonic-meatball @xsecretrejectx @bea789 @sarahthewriter55 @jiggysupernatural @trashforwinchesters @snazzyjazzyh @diesintheshower @intoomuchfandoms

@the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @kbarnett1089 @riversong-sam @intoomuchfandoms @teamfreewill-67 @revwinchester @jensen-jarpad @itseverythingilike @avalon821 @miss-miep @lovelouisbabe @wcmanwcnder @graceless-dragon @sofy7012 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @oneshotsdeanshort @caroldanversinatardis @soulfiretheobsessed @whovianayesha @fandomsstolemylife00 @straightasdeanwinchester @soullessbabee @heytherecutie13 @spnkisum @clairedelalune @honeybeetrash @sammy-salamander @saltyasshxe @wingsanddarkness

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justira · 7 years

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STORY STARTERS MEME

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

@petite-neko tagged me, and I have never been tagged for anything before in my life. But, uh, sure, let’s do this!

I definitely do not know 10 writers on tumblr because I am very terrible at doing The Tumblrs and also I mostly talk to artists on here? But why not, let’s tag my partner in crime @sevdrag; @wordsdear, who I know writes; and @kaizokunohime, who doesn’t write prose but does write story ideas/prompts, and I’d like to see how those do with this meme.

I have no idea what is meant by “first lines” here? The first sentence? The first block of text until whitespace? idek, I tried to keep it reasonable. This is in reverse chrono order, so first story is most recent.

1. Acclimating

[One Piece — Law/Luffy, Law & Strawhats — E, 31.3K ]

Law probably should have seen this coming. It wasn't his splintered self-worth that made him avoid things like this (and what business of anyone's was it, anyway, if he lived for Cora-san's memory? He'd been living on borrowed time for over a decade, and every step he'd taken since then had drawn him closer to a confrontation he expected (hoped) he wouldn't survive). But his utter lack of interest in making himself likable because there was nothing much to like certainly helped cut down on complications. Or, it usually did. The standard rules did not seem to apply to Strawhat. Black Leg had warned him, although, all things considered, that shouldn't have been necessary.

2. A Slow and Vicious Hemorrhage

[BBC Sherlock / Hannibal Movies — Holmes/Watson — M, 5.5K, WIP]

The air gets heavier, down here, cooler and tinged with inescapable subterranean damp. John breathes it in, steadily; it doesn't particularly unnerve him. It reeks of institution and he's had practice enough with those. It's not calming, precisely, but it's familiar. It's all familiar. It's all fine.

It is.

His hand tightens on the two case files. It doesn't stop the tremor, but he rubs his thumb across the labels, the rough reality of them, already thoroughly ragged from the flicks and scrapes and polishing and various pointless attritions of dozens of fingers, despite the very recent dates stamped on both of them. Two dates, two names. Neither name belongs to Sherlock Holmes.

3. Swimming Lessons

[Final Fantasy X — Auron/Braska/Jecht — T, 1K ]

Auron sputtered as Jecht dunked him under the water again. He came up for air, gasping, to hear Braska rebuke Jecht. "Jecht, he can't swim." Braska's tone was just this side of sharp, showing that Jecht was testing his patience; good, as he had surely tested Auron's. Auron clawed his hair out of his face where it had escaped his tail. Jecht was already too far away to shove. Braska floated over to him, touched his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

4. This Stolen Interstice

[Dragon Age: Origins — Duncan/Teagan — M, 8K]

The Grey Warden came during the harvest. The field Teagan was working was cradled in one of Rainesfere's rolling valleys; trees rose high on all sides, crowning the surrounding hills and wind-murmuring to each other as the harvesters worked. The air was thick with dust and chaff and the smell of fallen leaves, just edging into cold. That hint of crispness settled pleasantly on Teagan's skin as he worked amidst the slice and whisper of sickles and threshing, the barking of dogs weaving through the rhythmic sounds — no laughing children, not during the harvest, as all but babes were put to work at some task or another. He found one such child suddenly in his path — Rogher's youngest. Deliah? That must be it.

"What is it, Deliah?" Teagan wiped his brow as he stood, stretched his back.

"There's a man to see you," the girl mumbled, shy before her bann. "Mama says he's a Grey Warden."

The words spilled a chill down his back, much harsher than the gentle bite in the air. Darkspawn, here?

5. The Storm That Sweeps So Quiet

[Final Fantasy Tactics — Alma/Tietra — T, 1.2K]

Alma's spine aches. She has been bowed over this tome for entirely too long. Study is normally a pleasure, particularly the histories or the great tales of the Church, but this day she set aside to get through an endless dissertation on courtly graces. Studious as Alma may normally be, her heart is not in this. Today, the floor is distractingly hard beneath her folded skirts, even with the spare cushion. Her bodice itches unreasonably. Behind her, Tietra's quiet breathing and quieter warmth brush down Alma's back; she had persuaded her friend to take the window seat and regrets it not one bit, discomfort or no. It's not Tietra's fault that Lord Haverell's text drones so. Outside, the sunshine drips between tumultuous clouds; the air is heavy and moist, and the clouds tower high. It is not a day for study, not at all.

She runs her finger down the rich vellum of the page and listens to its smooth whisper. Behind her, she hears Tietra shift, the soft sigh of fabric and the rougher-edged rasp of pages rubbing together. Well, if Tietra feels it too...

6. So let it out and let it in

[Supernatural — Castiel & Mary, Castiel & Dean, Castiel & Sam — G, 5.1K]

"Jay Bird Family Special," the waitress announces, clear and cheery above the lunchtime clinks and conversation buzzing through the diner. She tips Mary a wink. Mary grins back as Heather sets the giant platter in front of her, gently intercepting baby Dean's hand going straight for the steak. "Your man running late?"

"Course not!" John pops up behind Heather. He's breathless under a thin sheen of sweat, his face all smiles and engine grease, and Mary could not want to touch that handsome curve of jaw more.

Instead, she puts a mild growl of threat in her voice, not even trying to cover the laughter crowding up alongside it. "If you think you're getting those paws anywhere near my food or my son—"

7. And Under Sky, the Shelter

[Final Fantasy Tactics — Ramza & Rapha, Marach, Mustadio, Agrias — G, 1.4K]

The hill cups gently around a lee; pebbles gather in the shadow where the wind abandoned them, making for a stony bed, but it will serve well enough for their purposes. Ramza, at least, is tired enough to collapse where he stands. He watches Agrias survey the site and thinks dully about what to do if it does not meet her standards of defensibility. It is well that she nods in approval, as he had not managed to think of any alternatives. The weariness runs too deep in his bones, leeching at thought, at care. It frightens him, distantly. So many have ceased to care, it seems. He rouses himself with a shake that feels like trying to shift mountains.

Tired to numbness or no, camp must be made, the birds cared for. The birds and — his teeth tug at his lip as his glance lands on Rapha and Marach, hovering at the edges of the group — the people. The tasks have been long apportioned, but in their ever growing and shrinking company, they reassign the routine often enough. It is just that he is too tired tonight to think on it.

8. There the Bones of Us May Lie

[Final Fantasy XII — Ashe/Balthier — T, 2.5K]

The hollow starlight sinks into ashen softness before her as she boards the Strahl; the hungry roar of the Cataract is hushed, made muted and metallic. It is like sinking into water, reversed. The quiet is the same, the sense of distance, but as she ascends there is no persistent buoyancy, no insistent upward press. Weight seems to sink down on her instead, settling deeper about her shoulders like a mantle.

It's familiar.

The silence of the ship eats her sigh, giving back nothing. And that, too is familiar — comforting, even, to have no wraiths answering those unmeant nighttime summons. The Occuria's illusion of Rasler is shattered, and Vaan isn't here to haunt her either, sleeping below with the others; Ashe is alone if not exactly unfettered. It is beyond her, just now, to judge whether that is better, and that is, in any case, irrelevant. There is little point in dwelling on it, now.

9. Best Hand

[Ace Attorney — Apollo & Trucy, Phoenix — G, 0.5K]

Apollo eyed the backs of Mr. Wright's cards. Wright kept them low, hands resting easy and relaxed on the table — Trucy was just the opposite, her fan of cards held up in front of her face, casting conspiratorial glances over the top. Hiding her smile. Trucy had something; Apollo'd figured that much out. Not as good as his own hand, though, he was sure of it.

(Now if only...)

He looked back at Wright. Nothing to see. Nothing to sense; bracelet quiet and loose on his wrist. (Damn! It's not just that he used Trucy for the games, he's impossible to read anyway!) Apollo resisted gritting his teeth.

10. Eclipse

[Final Fantasy IV — Kain/Cecil, Kain/Rosa, Cecil/Rosa, Kain/Cecil/Rosa — G, 1.5K]

In the old forgotten passageways beneath Baron Castle the walls exhale ghosts like vaporous winter breath: a fine spice on a hunt for treasure, harmless old haunts that feather around them as they creep down the halls with their stolen torch, their voices a nervous-laughing titter of echoes.

When the revenant comes Kain's blood freezes and he sees the panicked bloom of Rosa's untutored magic, shielding them; Kain's lips parting in awe and breathlessness as they flee.

But as they tumble back down the halls, to light and safety and a likely spanking, it is Cecil who clutches his hand.

11. Where Memory Rests

[Thief: Deadly Shadows — Garrett, The Shalebridge Cradle — G, 2.3K]

Thick exhales of steam crowd the night air, damp on your skin, as you make your way through the noise and shadows of the City. Grit has gathered close to the walls where you walk, giving the soft sound of your steps a rougher edge. Your fingers trail where a gas arrow once crystallized: a pipe carrying hot air hisses quietly at the leak. Magic lies thick in the air since the Final Glyph, dispersed and unformed. You can feel it in your hand. It washes across the red new scar like warm breath, like the air trickling from the pipe. The elemental crystals form faster, now, and someone harvested this one before you.

It doesn't matter. You have other things on your mind tonight.

And besides, you can always get it back.

12. the silent fulcrum in the interstice

[Kingdom Hearts — Kairi & Riku & Sora, Kairi & Naminé — G, 1.2K]

It begins with her hands: she plunges them into the place where earth meets sea meets sky. The light falls fragile across the grains, soft contrast to their coarse texture against her palms, her bare knees. The damp sand is heavy in her palms and something stirs in her as she pauses, hands suspended, full of infinite possibilities: This is how worlds are created, she thinks. Memories, falling like sand, like stars, like snow (where does she remember snow from?); she pauses, hands suspended, full of infinite worlds.

She can't remember the last time she did this, or maybe she never stopped: this is where she sat and stitched together a star, a promise; this is where she stood and watched the horizon and waited, or tried to remember what she was waiting for. The sand is heavy in her hands, and she wonders if this is any different, or if it is all reconstruction and remembering.

This is how worlds are created, and she sinks her fingers into the sand.

13. Same As It Never Was (cowritten with @sevdrag)

[Final Fantasy VIII — Rinoa/Squall, Laguna/Squall, Quistis/Rinoa, Kiros/Laguna, Quistis/Rinoa/Squall — E, 72K, WIP]

“I’m sorry, Commander, sir,” the waiter said over Squall's shoulder, “but we don’t have that particular vintage — our sincere apologies. Can I recommend another bottle — on the house, of course?”

Squall tried not to grit his teeth— too hard, anyway, because they were already grinding a little at the waiter’s placating, admiring, sorry-to-your-famous-personage-please-be-kind tone. He glanced up. Rinoa was smiling at him, that smile of hers that carried beaming wattage like a Thundaga to the chest, and even though it still made his heart skip a beat he could read in it what neither of them was saying: her hesitation playing across her face, the tense strain of her smile even as his own lips quirked back in response.

“Not a problem,” he said, aware that his voice was gruff and sounded irritated; maybe everyone would assume he was aggravated about the wine.

14. Coward Heart

[Final Fantasy X — Auron & Braska & JechtI — G, 3.6K]

The caves cast light back at them, fractured reflections and the rock's own native glow: the water was still and star-littered, pinpricks of light beneath a surface so motionless that Auron could barely tell where water ended and the pressing dark of the caverns began. All the light should have illumed the air, but the icy breath of the place seemed nearly solid, swallowing the light before it could reveal more than it hid. Auron had drawn his sword long ago, its rasp loud and echo-inhaled. Even the fiends glowed, here, great gelid flans with galaxies glittering inside them, dissolving into pyreflies like gentle novas.

Auron's gaze slid to Braska. In the gloaming, Braska's eyes seemed wide and white, his robes silver-edged black, all the careful distinctions of colour — red, for mourning; purple, for hope; blue, for seas and skies — lost in the half-light. Jecht was a suffocated flame beside him, the leaping fish on his sarong like the empty spaces between licks of fire as he shrugged off the wool-lined jacket Braska had finally convinced him to wear.

15. Disconnect

[Final Fantasy VIII / Kingdom Hearts — Maleficent & Squall — G, 3.7K]

He opens his eyes to the sight of water falling up. The spray coats his face, his clothes— he tries to sit up and make sure Lionheart is dry in its sheath and realizes that everything, everywhere, hurts.

(Rinoa.)

He makes it to his feet, checks on Lionheart. The gunblade survived the trip, maybe in better shape than Squall had. He flexes his hands, staring at them. They still feel numb. (Did it hurt you like this? Your magic?) His spells are gone, eaten up by the trip from Traverse Town. He hadn't counted on this exhaustion. (Yeah, and Cid had said it was impossible and called me an idiot. Whatever.)

It doesn't matter. He heaves himself away from the rocks he'd been leaning on, and starts climbing.

Analysis, I guess?

Okay well the immediate thing I notice is that I used the word "interstice" twice in this set of titles and that's just mortifying.

Decent mix of fandoms! 14 fandoms counting crossovers, although 8 were Final Fantasy of some kind.

I counted 6 past tense intros (though one of those fics switches to present tense halfway through, which is 15K words past the opening lines), and 9 present tense ones. That's a 2:3 ratio of past to present, and I actually had never realized I wrote in present tense this much. In the grand scheme of fiction writing, past tense is heavily more common so I guess this sample puts me in the... minority? I find present tense more immediate. I rarely actively CONSIDER which tense to use, I just start writing in whatever FEELS right for the idea. The first story where I actively considered tense was "Acclimating", the most recent story on here. Whoops >.>

Also I don't tend to open with dialogue. For short fics (less than 10K) I tend to write mostly in order, and I find writing dialogue difficult, so I tend to kind of "settle in" with a story by writing description first, and only after I'm properly settled try some dialogue. There were only 4 stories with dialogue in the opening lines here, and only 2 that actually had dialogue as the first thing in the story.

Fewer em dashes than I expected, as I know I overuse those. But not, apparently, in the opening lines. I wait until the reader is settled in/committed before pulling that shit on them.

I seem to vary between starting in the middle of things vs. doing a bit of setup. I couldn't really pin numbers to this one, as it's a bit more nebulous. For example the very first sentence of "This Stolen Interstice" (that word again, shoot me now) is in medias res, but then I back up to a bit of scene-setting. So who even knows!

Anyway, this was a fun exercise!

#gpoy #asks #my stuff #my fic

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rissaroundtheworld · 7 years

Text

Six Months

This picture was taken six months ago today. August 24, 2016. I had written the final check for the closing on my house that afternoon. I had only recently begun the process of coming out of the fire, so to speak, of the nightmare that was the year prior. I had lost my sense of who I was, lost my self confidence and self worth, and frankly, had absolutely no idea what I was doing anymore. So I did what any logical broken person would do... and bought a one way ticket to Salt Lake City. Since then, I have visited 33 cities in 12 different countries. I have taken 28 flights, 14 buses, 10 shuttles, 3 trains, 2 ferries, 1 rental car, 1 motorcycle trip, and countless taxis, ubers, and scooters. I have spent a LOT of money. I have met amazing people. And I have learned more than I could have ever expected about myself and the world around me. Since I have been in bed for 48 hours now, I figured I would share some of my travel tips with you!

(Of note - my keyboard is broken and I cant include any apostrophes, unless they're done by autocorrect. Forgive me)

1. Wifi is key! During your first few days in a new city, check out restaurants, cafes, and bars in a variety of neighborhoods. This way, if youre lost later (not that I EVER get lost), youre not too far from somewhere you can steal wifi. Also, don't be stupid and wait 5 months to learn about maps.me. Seriously, why didn't anyone tell me about this in South America!

2. Download Tinder. Gone are the days when Tinder was all about swiping right for some action (mostly). Tinder now serves many purposes! I personally downloaded it simply because one more day without speaking English was going to kill me. Not comfortable going to dinner alone? Tinder. Want someone who can watch your bags while youre in the ocean? Tinder. Need someone on the other side of the camera while you obnoxiously do headstands all over the world? You guessed it - Tinder! I would never use it under circumstances where I cant get on a plane and fly away from someone (men can be stage 5 clingers, too) but its been an amazing resource for meeting people while traveling. And... occasionally you do get some action.

3. Dont set lofty goals for personal hygiene. Sometimes, youre just having way too much fun to be bothered with a shower. Sometimes you have the time, but just cant bring yourself to take one of the ever present cold showers. Maybe youre halfway through a 4 hour shuttle, have to use a squat toilet during the bathroom break, and you pee all over yourself right before getting on the bus. Or you and a gentleman accidentally pee on each other trying to cover up each others public urination on a historical building. Or you fall asleep on the beach and dont realize how much sand is in your hair until days later when you finally take that cold shower. Plus, the less products you use, the less money you spend... its called budgeting people. And swimming definitely counts as a shower.

4. Expect all non-airborne transportation to be at least a small nightmare. Yes, airports are a hassle, but man are they consistent. Flights generally take off on time, and if they dont, you'll know. There are so many signs, and so many people who speak English. This is a well oiled machine. Busses and shuttles? ...Not so much. They're never on time, except that one time when youre running late, then they take off early. Signs? Nah. You have to figure that out on your own. If you dont speak the language...good luck to you. Expect sexual harassment from the drivers, pulling over and swapping vehicles for no reason at any given point, and DEFINITELY expect to arrive at your destination several hours later than expected. Is it hot out? Dont worry, the bus will blast the AC so high that you will shiver the entire time. Is it a reasonable temperature outside? Not so much on the bus!! Prepare to sweat out whatever it is that you consumed in the last 24 hours. Buses are NOT your friend.

5. The best way to acquire things is to act like you dont care about them. This is a well known phenomenon, but Im still pretty amazed at how extreme this can be. See something you want? Ask how much, hear the price, and then make a big, dramatic fuss about how expensive it is. Walk away with as much huffing and puffing and wild hand gestures as you can conjure up. You will, without a doubt, get what you want at the price that you want. I recently talked a woman down from 120,000 rupiah to 30,000 rupiah. Just by walking away and acting pissed. She went so low I actually felt bad and gave her 35,000... but now I have 3 new sarongs which cost the equivalent of about $2.50 each. Side note - this strategy often works with men as well. Try it out.

6. Things work themselves out. This is, by far, the biggest lesson I have learned from 6 months on my own. I cant tell you how many situations Ive been in where I thought ¨this is it, Im going to die here, starve here, get attacked, get killed, etc.¨ I planned a new life of sleeping on the streets in Panama. I had every detail of my dramatic escape from jungle captivity planned (also in Panama, it was my first stop so I was pretty nervous.) I have spent many a walk with my hands in my pocket, clenching my brass knuckles, knowing FOR SURE that someone was going to come after me and I would have to fight for my life. I thought I was getting deported in Thailand. Ive run out of money, out of food, showed up in new places with no place to stay, lost contact with people Im supposed to be with, had no access to phones, shown up at the airport with no flight booked (twice, not proud), gotten very sick with no one to take care of me... yet here I am, alive and well (ok, a little sick), relaxing in Thailand. You get through things. I found that I am so much stronger than I realized. And that people are really, mostly good, and they will help you.

So, what's next? Well first, Ill fly to Vietnam for a bit because a certain CHANNA BAO is coming to visit me!!!! This is big, people. Remember when Channa wouldn't be my friend? Then... some major changes to my itinerary. The details are still being worked out but some exciting new things are on the horizon. Hint: no part of this plan involves snow, still. And there's a pretty big birthday thrown into the mix.

Most importantly, at this alleged half-way point in my trip, I want to extend a gigantic thank you to everyone in my life who has supported me in this journey (and in the journey that led me to leave in the first place.) Whether you've come to visit, kept in touch via text, let me facetime you in a panicked state (love you, Laura!), commented on my posts, or even just sent a quick message to say hello - it really means the world to me. Though I am constantly grateful for this life of adventure, there are undoubtedly moments of loneliness. You all remind of the amazing support system I have back home. Its Friday (I think?) and Im still sick in bed, so... have a drink for me!

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