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#like i'm good at doing small edits in my brain as i read
sassygwaine · 6 months
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every time i reread my own stuff i just want to rewrite it
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meownotgood · 2 months
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how do you write so well ? can you give us any tips for anyone who wants to start writing fics ? :)
-anon from France (・ิω・ิ)
of course!!! I'm not gonna lie.... I wing a lot of stuff when I'm writing so I may not be the best at giving very solid advice 😭 but, I will share some tips that helped me, and maybe they can help you too!
practice! def the most obvious one, the more you write the more you'll be able to improve. but practice isn't just writing, you can improve so much more by reading as well. or even watching a show or playing a game, indulging in a story you really love, you can learn much from that story to improve your own writings as well
write like shit! I heard the phrase, "write drunk, edit sober" a little while ago, and it's so perfect to how I feel about the writing process. just write whatever ideas you have, don't stress about your first draft not being good, or not what you'd like. no one can write perfectly on the first try, that's where editing comes in, to smooth out wrinkles and make everything nice. it is perfectly okay if you can only write a simple outline right now because you can come back and make it beautiful. write "lol I don't know what to put here" and come back while editing, put "insert romantic scene here" and continue. and seriously, don't be afraid to write something that's "bad" or "cringe" because nobody will read your first draft but you! just speak from your heart and your head will take it from there! and if you write something you really don't like, you're under no obligation to let anyone see it. writing a bunch of crap is a part of the process. you can never improve if you put yourself down, and don't allow yourself someplace to start
find your own flow! everyone writes different, some environments might work better for you and some might not. some people write while listening to music because it helps, I cannot because my brain would turn pickled. some can write thousands of words per day, some can only write 100. do what is best for you, try different things to learn where your best flow state is. don't push yourself to write when you don't want to or more than you can, your best work will come when you are most comfortable.
write what you want! write the story you want to read. writing is hard, it's often frustrating, but the story you want to tell is something only you can do, that's why no one has told it yet. enjoy the process as much as you can, the bad and the good!
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inkskinned · 4 months
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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donquixotehomura · 4 months
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Valentine's Day with One Piece Boys
Master List
W.C:3295    so uhhhhh my hand slipped oops... I took some assumptions here and I changed some things that are common about these characters in Fanfic writing, my brain couldn’t come up with a lot for Law I’m sorry about that, Crocodile and Doffy can be read as pre or post becoming Warlords, some might be OOC but IDK I wrote this in about a day lol (my eyes fingers and back hurt I need to correct my posture lol) sorry if I didn't write for your favorites, have fun and lemme know what you think I love feed back It took two and a half fucking hours to put the gifs in, cause the line thingy where you add stuff only showed at the very bottom so I had to keep editing and dragging shit around, I'm sure I'm doing something wrong, also I had to look up all the gifs here even tho I have tons cause for some reason "something goofed" .... end my suffering also I wrote this on word and then brought it here so if formatting gets weird that's why, even tho I spent hours on making sure everything is good shout out to my inspo who also encouraged me to write it @cinnbar-bun
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Dracule Mihawk, Roronoa Zoro, Portgas D. Ace, Donquixote Doflamingo, Eustass "Captain" Kid, Charlotte Katakuri, Massacre Soldier Killer, Sir Crocodile, Trafalgar Law.
Dracule Mihawk:
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Mihawk and Y/N prefer intimate celebrations for Valentine's Day. They often opt for a quiet evening together at their secluded castle, away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. 
Despite their stoic exteriors, Mihawk and Y/N are surprisingly sentimental when it comes to expressing their feelings. They exchange handwritten letters on Valentine's Day, pouring their hearts out on paper in a way that words spoken aloud cannot convey. 
Instead of extravagant gestures, Mihawk and Y/N prefer to exchange gifts that hold sentimental value. Mihawk might gift Y/N a rare book on something she likes, while Y/N might give Mihawk a custom-made piece of simple jewelry like a small bracelet she personally crafted for him. 
On Valentine's Day, Mihawk surprises Y/N by offering to cook dinner together. Despite her lack of culinary skills, Y/N appreciates the bonding activity and enjoys spending quality time with him in the kitchen, even if it results in a few culinary mishaps. 
After dinner, Mihawk and Y/N venture out into the castle's courtyard to stargaze. They lie side by side on a blanket, Y/N pointing out constellations and sharing stories about their significance, reveling in the peaceful solitude of the night, Mihawk just listens to her with a small fond smile. 
Throughout the day, Mihawk and Y/N take time to reflect on their journey together, reminiscing about cherished memories and shared experiences that have strengthened their bond over the years. 
As a romantic gesture, Mihawk and Y/N share a midnight dance in the castle's grand ballroom. Lit only by candlelight, they move together in a graceful waltz, lost in the magic of the moment and the timeless beauty of their love.    Going To Sleep Cuddling: Mihawk and Y/N will go to sleep in the end of the day holding each other, Y/N would curl up into his arms, burying her face into his chest while he wraps his arms around her his hand going into her hair to play with the soft strands.  
As Valentine's Day draws to a close, Mihawk and Y/N exchange a few hushed words as they cuddle, reaffirming their commitment to each other and the promise of a future filled with love, laughter, and endless adventures together. 
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Roronoa Zoro:
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Despite his tough exterior, Zoro secretly spends weeks planning the perfect Valentine's Day surprise for Y/N. He meticulously selects a secluded spot on the island they're docked on, where they can enjoy each other's company away from the hustle and bustle of the crew. 
Y/N, appreciative of Zoro's efforts, prepares a special gift for him on Valentine's Day. Knowing his love for swords, she surprises him with a beautifully crafted sheath for one of his blades, personalized with intricate designs that reflect their shared journey together. 
Zoro and Y/N spend Valentine's Day evening taking a leisurely stroll along the shores of the island. With the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the moonlight casting a soft glow, they share quiet moments of intimacy, lost in each other's company. 
During their stroll, Zoro and Y/N encounter a group of wild creatures roaming the island. With their swords drawn, they effortlessly dispatch the beasts, their synchronized movements a testament to their unwavering bond as swordsmen and lovers. 
As the night progresses, Zoro and Y/N build a campfire on the beach, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows around them. They share stories of their past adventures and dreams for the future, their laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean. 
Under the starlit sky, Zoro finally opens up to Y/N, expressing his gratitude for her presence in his life. He admits that he's not good at expressing his feelings, but Y/N's unwavering support and love have changed him for the better. 
Moved by Zoro's vulnerability, Y/N wraps her arms around him, offering him comfort and reassurance. She assures him that their love is enough, and she wouldn't have their Valentine's Day any other way. 
As the night comes to an end, Zoro and Y/N make a promise to each other to continue facing life's challenges together, hand in hand. They vow to cherish every moment and celebrate their love not just on Valentine's Day, but every day. 
As they watch the sun rise on the horizon, Zoro leans in to press a gentle kiss to Y/N's lips, sealing their promise with a silent vow of devotion. In that moment, amidst the beauty of the dawn, they find solace in the certainty of their love for each other. 
As they return to the ship, hand in hand, Zoro and Y/N share a knowing smile, their hearts full of love and gratitude for each other. Though their Valentine's Day was unconventional and filled with unexpected adventures, it was a testament to the strength of their bond and the depth of their love. 
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Portgas D. Ace:
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Y/N wakes up early on Valentine's Day to prepare a special breakfast for Ace. She arranges heart-shaped pancakes and fruit on a tray, leaving a note with a playful message for him to wake up to.  Ace spends weeks leading up to Valentine's Day working on a handmade gift for Y/N. He creates a personalized necklace with a small pendant in the shape of a flame, symbolizing their fiery love and passion. 
Y/N organizes a scavenger hunt around the Moby Dick for Ace. Each clue leads him to a different part of the ship, where he discovers small gifts and love notes hidden by Y/N. 
Ace surprises Y/N with a romantic beach picnic at a secluded cove. They enjoy a delicious meal together as they watch the sunset, the sound of the waves providing a serene backdrop to their intimate celebration. 
As the night falls, Ace and Y/N gather with their friends for a bonfire on the beach. They roast marshmallows, share stories, and cuddle close under a blanket, basking in the warmth of their love and the crackling fire. 
Y/N sets up a telescope on the deck of the Moby Dick, and she and Ace spend the evening stargazing together. They point out constellations, make wishes on shooting stars, and share dreams for their future, Y/N certainly tries to find constellations that match Ace’s freckles.  Ace surprises Y/N with a makeshift dance floor on the deck of the ship. He puts on her favorite song, and they dance together under the moonlight, lost in each other's arms. 
Y/N leaves little love notes for Ace to find throughout the day. Each note expresses her affection and gratitude for having him in her life, reminding him of the depth of her love. 
Ace and Y/N spend the afternoon cooking a special Valentine's Day dinner together in the kitchen. They laugh, tease each other, and steal kisses amidst the preparation, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. (Marco is on standby with a fire extinguisher) 
As the day comes to a close, Ace and Y/N exchange heartfelt declarations of love. They express their gratitude for each other, promising to cherish and support one another for all the days to come, both of them yelling it at the top of their lungs of the railing of the ship and the crew is so done with them lol 
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Donquixote Doflamingo:
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Doflamingo, despite his intimidating persona, secretly enjoys the sentimentality of Valentine's Day. He's known for surprising Y/N with extravagant gifts, ranging from rare treasures he's acquired during their travels to personalized items he's commissioned just for her. Y/N, in turn, cherishes each gift as a symbol of Doflamingo's affection, even if she's not one for material possessions.  On Valentine's Day, Doflamingo arranges a private, candlelit dinner on the deck of their ship or a secluded spot on the island they're currently exploring. He spares no expense in ensuring the evening is perfect, with gourmet cuisine prepared by their crew's skilled chefs. Y/N appreciates the effort he puts into creating these intimate moments and enjoys the opportunity to spend quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life. 
Instead of focusing solely on lavish gifts and grand gestures, Doflamingo and Y/N often reminisce about their shared adventures and memorable moments throughout the years. They spend Valentine's Day reflecting on the challenges they've overcome together, the laughter they've shared, the tears they’ve shed and the unbreakable bond that has formed between them. 
Despite their often intense and tumultuous journey as pirates, Doflamingo and Y/N also value quiet moments of affection. They may spend Valentine's Day simply enjoying each other's company, whether it's lounging on the deck, stargazing, or taking a leisurely stroll on the beach hand in hand. It's in these peaceful moments that they feel most connected. 
Doflamingo and Y/N have a deep understanding of each other, and Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unspoken bond they share. They may not always verbalize their feelings, but their actions speak volumes. Whether it's a knowing glance, a comforting touch, or a gentle smile exchanged between them, they both know that their love is unwavering.
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Eustass "Captain" Kid:
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Despite her tough exterior, Y/N secretly enjoys the romantic gestures she receives on Valentine's Day. Kid, though he may not admit it openly, takes great pleasure in surprising Y/N with small gifts and tokens of affection, leaving them anonymously for her to find.  Kid's idea of a Valentine's Day gift may not be traditional, but it's always heartfelt. He might present Y/N with a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and tailored to her unique fighting style, or a rare treasure he stumbled upon during their travels, symbolizing the adventures they've shared together. 
Y/N, with her artistic flair, expresses her love for Kid through her creations. She might spend weeks crafting a personalized piece of jewelry for him, incorporating elements of his Jolly Roger or symbols that hold significance to their relationship, showcasing her devotion in a tangible form. 
Amidst the chaos of their pirate life, Y/N and Kid cherish the quiet moments they steal away together on Valentine's Day. They might escape to a secluded spot-on deck, watching the stars and sharing stories, finding solace in each other's company amidst the vastness of the sea. 
For Y/N and Kid, Valentine's Day is not just about romantic gestures, but also about embarking on new adventures together. They might set sail to explore uncharted islands, face formidable foes, or discover hidden treasures, strengthening their bond through shared experiences and thrilling escapades. 
Despite their differences, Y/N and Kid's relationship is built on mutual respect and understanding. They may not always see eye to eye, but they know how to support and uplift each other, especially on Valentine's Day, when they take the time to appreciate the unique qualities that make their bond so special. 
Y/N and Kid's Valentine's Day celebrations may not be conventional, but they're uniquely theirs. They might indulge in a feast of their favorite foods, engage in friendly competitions and challenges, or simply enjoy each other's presence, knowing that their love transcends traditional expectations. 
As they spend Valentine's Day together, Y/N and Kid exchange promises for the future. They may vow to stand by each other through thick and thin, to continue exploring the world and facing its challenges together, and to cherish the love they share, knowing that their bond is unbreakable.
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Charlotte Katakuri:
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Despite their tough exteriors, Y/N and Katakuri secretly enjoy showering each other with romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N surprises Katakuri with handcrafted doughnuts with many flavours, each one meticulously made with love and care. In return, Katakuri presents Y/N with a beautifully crafted box of her favorite sweets, a testament to his thoughtfulness and affection. On Valentine's evening, Y/N and Katakuri escape the chaos of Totto Land for a private dinner date on a secluded beach. They indulge in a feast of their favorite dishes, sharing laughter and intimate conversation under the twinkling stars. As the night deepens, they dance together in the moonlight, their hearts beating in perfect harmony. 
In the days leading up to Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri exchange heartfelt love letters, expressing their deepest emotions and gratitude for each other. Y/N's letters are filled with poetic prose and declarations of undying love, while Katakuri's letters are eloquent and sincere, revealing the depths of his affection for Y/N. 
As a special Valentine's Day surprise, Katakuri whisks Y/N away on a romantic getaway to a secluded island paradise. They spend their days exploring pristine beaches, indulging in couples' massages, and savoring gourmet meals prepared by a private chef. It's a blissful escape from their duties and responsibilities, allowing them to focus solely on each other. 
On Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri reminisce about their favorite moments together, flipping through photo albums filled with snapshots of their adventures. They laugh at candid shots of themselves and smile fondly at pictures of special milestones they've shared. It's a heartwarming reminder of the bond they've built and the memories they've created together, a few of them are pictures taken by Y/N of Katakuri throughout the day, in some of them his scarf is hiding a smile or a blush a reason as to why she took the picture (yes she walks around with a Visual Den Den Mushi.. At least that’s what I think the picture taking ones are called)    Y/N has been joining Katakuri during his Meriendas for years now and same as rumors spread about him meditating and talking to gods of battle during them rumors spread about her as well (I read a fic about this before where Y/N was considered his oracle and it’s an amazing one I’m trying to find it again) what they don’t know is that these two are being very sappy idiots, cuddling sharing kisses and laughs and stealing each other's sweets, especially on this day, the others just think that they’re doing some sort of ritual about devotion to Gods of Battle only lol. 
As the night falls on Valentine's Day, Y/N and Katakuri retreat to a secluded hilltop, where they lay beneath a blanket of stars, hand in hand. They share stories of their hopes and dreams, tracing constellations with their fingers and basking in the quiet beauty of the   night sky. It's a moment of perfect serenity, a reminder of the infinite possibilities that lie ahead for their love.
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Massacre Soldier Killer:
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Despite their tough exteriors, Killer and Y/N secretly enjoy surprising each other with small romantic gestures on Valentine's Day. Y/N might leave a heartfelt note tucked into Killer's pocket, while Killer might craft a makeshift bouquet of flowers from materials he finds on their travels. Valentine's Day is a rare opportunity for Killer and Y/N to spend some quality time together away from the chaos of pirate life. They might steal away to a secluded spot on the ship or find a quiet beach where they can enjoy each other's company without interruptions. 
Killer and Y/N reminisce about their favorite moments together, cherishing the memories they've created during their time as partners in crime. They might exchange stories about their most memorable adventures or laugh about the mishaps they've encountered along the way. 
Despite their limited resources as pirates, Killer and Y/N find creative ways to exchange gifts on Valentine's Day. Y/N might fashion a piece of jewelry from shells she finds on the beach, while Killer might carve a wooden trinket with his expert craftsmanship. 
Killer surprises Y/N with a romantic candlelit dinner, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal cooked from scratch. Y/N, in turn, appreciates the effort and thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and they enjoy a quiet evening together under the stars. While they may not always express their emotions openly, Killer and Y/N show their love and affection for each other in subtle ways. A gentle touch, a lingering glance, or a reassuring smile speaks volumes in the language of their relationship. 
Valentine's Day serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between Killer and Y/N. They reaffirm their commitment to each other, promising to stand by each other's side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges may come their way. 
As they bask in the warmth of each other's love on Valentine's Day, Killer and Y/N discuss their hopes and dreams for the future. They envision a life together filled with adventure, laughter, and unwavering support, knowing that as long as they have each other, anything is possible. 
Overall, Valentine's Day is a special occasion for Killer and Y/N to celebrate their love and appreciation for each other, strengthening the bond that binds them together as partners in both love and piracy.
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Sir Crocodile:
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Crocodile and Y/N aren't ones for grand gestures, so their Valentine's Day celebration tends to be understated. They prefer spending quality time together rather than getting caught up in the commercial aspects of the holiday.  Crocodile surprises Y/N by preparing a simple but delicious meal for them to share. Despite his gruff exterior, Crocodile has a surprisingly deft hand in the kitchen, and Y/N is touched by the effort he puts into making the evening special. 
Instead of extravagant gifts, Crocodile and Y/N exchange meaningful tokens of their affection. Y/N gives Crocodile a handmade leather-bound journal, knowing how much he values knowledge and planning. In return, Crocodile presents Y/N with a rare seashell he found during one of their adventures, a symbol of their shared experiences. 
After dinner, Crocodile and Y/N enjoy a quiet evening together, lounging on the deck of their ship and gazing up at the stars. They talk about their hopes and dreams for the future, reveling in the simplicity of each other's company. 
Despite their tough exteriors, Crocodile and Y/N share a passion for Planning and Conquest. They spend the evening poring over maps and planning their next expedition, excited about the possibilities that lie ahead.  While they may not be overly demonstrative, Crocodile and Y/N show their love for each other in small, subtle ways. A gentle touch, a knowing glance, or a shared smile speaks volumes about the depth of their bond.   As the night draws to a close, Crocodile and Y/N express their gratitude for each other, acknowledging the strength and support they provide in each other's lives. They may not say "I love you" in so many words, but their actions speak louder than any declaration of affection ever could.
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Trafalgar Law:
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Y/N is bubbling with excitement as Valentine's Day approaches, eager to celebrate the occasion with Law despite his usual reservations about the holiday. She takes the lead in planning the day, organizing a romantic dinner aboard the Polar Tang complete with candles, rose petals, and Law's favorite dishes. Law, although initially hesitant about the festivities, appreciates Y/N's enthusiasm and decides to go along with her plans, wanting to make her happy. He surprises Y/N with small but meaningful gifts throughout the day, such as a locket containing a picture of the two of them together or a handwritten note expressing his love and gratitude. Y/N showers Law with affection, peppering him with kisses and hugs as they spend quality time together, enjoying each other's company in the privacy of their quarters. They share stories and reminisce about their favorite memories together, laughing and smiling as they bask in the warmth of their love. Law surprises Y/N with a heartfelt gesture, such as letting her cuddle with him instead of working or giving her a massage to help her relax and unwind. They exchange promises of love and commitment, reaffirming their bond and promising to stand by each other through thick and thin. As the day comes to a close, Law and Y/N cuddle up together under a blanket, content in each other's arms and grateful for the love they share. 
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
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Hello author!! Congrats on 500 followers! I love the way you wrote "Plead the Fifth", Floyd's callback to the Portfest event was my favorite part. If its okay, can I pls request prompt 12 with Jade, Riddle, and Jamil? Thank you! 🫶💙
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12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.
Bless you for catching that friend I was a bit worried no one would know what I was talking about. I thought it was so funny how offended they all got at being called adorable! other than Rook but yk
EDIT: I straight up did not realize I wrote this for Riddle twice oh my fucking god. I'm so sorry please feel free to message me with a separate request I am so sorry again my brain is fried.
notes: they/them used for Yuu. Severe violations of privacy and playing with emotions for Jade, and Jamil is fresh out of clown school, let us pray. I was listening to dancing with a stranger on loop while writing this so sorry if they're a bit angsty. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.
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Jade
"Look." Jade is smiling and Azul has a tension headache. "You see how they've played this particular song fourteen times today? They're going to try and switch things up and listen to something else after the sixteenth loop but-"
"What in the hell does this have to do with anything?" Azul asks to be charitable, he already knows what this is about. Or he thinks he does anyway.
"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to add it to the playlist for the Lounge. Just for tonight." There is a really strange tone to Jade's excitement, almost like he has no idea what he is doing and is just as thrilled by that as he was whatever brought him home in such a... state last night.
"Because if I don't you'll add it yourself and give Floyd back the password to the account?"
"I am so very glad we could reach a mutual understanding." Of course Jade has a plan, it had started formulating the instant he saw you dressed up for the formal Crowley had put together.
Boring. That's what this night was supposed to be. These masks were supposed to hide people's faces, sure but he knows them too well. Maybe if this was a different school where people were less predictable- But then there was you, and all his reason fell away.
"May I have this dance, stranger?" He is surprised you accept, delighted with how natural it feels to follow his lead. He was expecting this to be much, much harder.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask." You sound shy, flattered even, without the defensiveness he usually associates with the lead up to your trysts. Could it be- "I thought I felt someone watching me." -you do not know. The mask has worked for one lucky eel.
"Ah prefect," he greets you as usual, with a bow and a gesture to an empty seat "always so good to see you at the Mostro." This time he has selected a booth out of the way, towards the back and far too big for just one customer. Pity you hadn't brought those small fry with you, he was so looking forward to letting Floyd play with them. "Did you come here with something in mind? Or shall I make a suggestion?" You are so nervous you don't notice that he has failed to give you a menu until you finally bother to look up at him.
"I really just came here to talk..." how painful, you are looking away again. Jade is sure he is the best looking fish here, if you are that desperate to see him in the water he can certainly improvise.
"I am always willing to lend a sympathetic ear." He bends at the waist to hover his face just above yours, so close that you are force to return your eyes to his again. He watches as your pupils dilate and breath catches as the music in the lounge plucks a familiar song as if his magic lets him read minds.
"Go fuck yourself." It's missing the venom he'd like but as he traces your jawline with his gloved hand directly over the lipstick stains he'd left last night he thinks to himself that he is just fine with that. Jade is not in the mood to share your fire, it is such a rare thing for a mer to see after all.
"I would much prefer to leave that to you." He kisses you, quickly before you can fully ignite and waste your precious sparks on the public. "Funny story actually, I had such a nice time at the Masquerade last night I thought we should have ourselves another little date tonight. Do be gentle with me, I only had so much time to prepare." But waste or no he cannot deny himself the satisfied laugh that spills from him when you yank him back into a kiss and prevent him from running his mouth. Just what is he to do with you? Oh he has so many ideas...
Jamil
"Ha I thought I'd find you here." Jamil does his best to ignore Ace's voice, instead focusing on the hoop and sinking his throws into the net. Forty-One. "Aww not gonna ask any questions?" Forty-Two. "You know they talked to me. They always do." Forty-Three. "Said some reeeeeeal interesting stuff." Forty-Four. "Mushy too. Like seriously, you should both just get over yourselves and-"
Forty-Five. Jamil purposefully bounces the ball off the ground hard, not even bothering to watch Ace scramble to avoid it before shoves his face into his towel as if it can wipe away his embarrassment as well as his sweat.
"They are better off not knowing." He catches the ball Ace tries to hit him with, taking a little delight in how annoyed his junior looks before he realizes that it isn't going away as quickly as Ace's other pouts.
"Seriously? Where'd you get that idea from?" He sounds angry, Jamil has to remind himself and the seething pit in his stomach that Ace is Yuu's... friend. They are just friends who spend a lot of time alone. Alone together. Alone together inside a dormitory where Yuu live practically alone, a lot of times on nights when Jamil is alone in Scarabia with preparations for a party you aren't guaranteed to attend unlike those Unbirthday Party's Riddle has that you are at so much you might as well be part of his dorm.
Not that Jamil thinks about that a lot or is thinking about that at all when he gives Ace his best "superiority" complex smile.
"They were willing to make out with a stranger behind some thick curtains, clearly they don't have any strong feelings for anyone in the school and I would just be-"
"Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this situation in the fucking first place." This isn't normal jokey Ace. Normal "girls just wanna have fun Ace," no this is Ace as serious as Jamil wishes he always would be during... anything at all really. Funny how that side only ever seems to come out when he needs to distract someone. Funny how the pit is screaming how it only ever comes up when he is talking about you. "You get close to them one day, then you insist you can't talk to them because you are too busy taking care of Kalim. You give take advantage of them not being from Twisted Wonderland to give them things anyone would recognize as being romantic gifts but roll your eyes at the idea when confronted. Seriously it is a miracle they still like you and didn't think to try getting over you sooner."
Yuu is kissing him. They have what they can grasp of his face in their hands and are kissing him so painfully slowly. It's too much to bear, he can't keep to his senses and denial. Jamil pulls them further behind the curtains and kisses them. For one brief incandescent moment he allows himself to believe this is fated. That if the masks were gone, that if you were under the Scarabia curtains you would be holding onto his shirt just as tightly.
"You told them didn't you?" Ace doesn't bother to actually answer, the footsteps echoing down the hallway as he goes to leave answers Jamil’s question for him.
You are always beautiful.  His breath catches in his throat when he sees you, the pit swallowing itself as he realizes the urgency to the speed at which you close the gap but pause just before making it into his personal space.
“Can we talk?”  Ace’s words from earlier echo in his mind.  Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this?
“Of course.”  He purposefully places the basketball back onto the rack he had been using as an excuse to center himself.  “Would you let me take you to dinner?”
“No.”  You sound as if you hate yourself for saying it, but the instant it leaves your lips he smiles.  “No, I need you to tell me here because I can’t stand this stupid game of you taking your insecurities out on me.  Just what do I need to do for you to understand…”  Your nerve seems to be failing you now that he’s right in front of you.  But he isn’t cruel enough to make you wait.
“I like you.”  It’s not all of what you want to hear, and not all of what he wants to say.  But he’s in a sweaty gym uniform and you look like you’ve been crying.  Apologies are best made with food, and he loves you well enough to know your worry’s been eating at your apatite as much as it has his.
149 notes · View notes
munson-mjstan · 11 months
Note
Here's a request for you, my dear! Reader writes for the school paper and is assigned an article highlighting different school clubs. She tries to interview Eddie about Hellfire, but he just assumes she's going to mock/tease him about being a "freak who likes to play fantasy games" and is really short with her. It hurts her feelings, and when someone (Dustin? Lucas? Mike?) points out what an asshole he was, he tries to make it right.
I can't wait to read it!
xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚
Thank you bug! @munson-blurbs
Warnings ⚠️: Angst, language, and fluff by the end
Minors D.N.I 18+
Wc: 2.9k
°♡°
"Gotta go, I'm hungry, see you later!" Dustin departs but not before hugging you which you returned.
Trekking in the bustling hallway of your school, your peers making their way to their next classes. Upon entering the paper editing room you're met with Nancy, who had just turned to face whomever walked in, "Good morning!" she greeted you sporting a familiar grin.
"Another article set up for me? Geez, have you ever taken a break?" you joked with her, you had worked with Nancy for some time, and known her even longer, you used to help babysit her brother and his friends when they were younger. Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will who had moved to California liked you and thought you were kind and warm.
Walking toward Nancy she answers, "A writer's job is never done, and yes, I have one in mind."
"What club is this? Between you and I, we've already interviewed all of them," you were confused, was there a new club you weren't familiar with?
"Hellfire," she shrugs, "I know I haven't interviewed the head honcho, Eddie Munson. Have you?"
"No, I haven't.." you shook your head and your voice got quiet, you'd forgotten about Hellfire. You don't know how you did, Eddie is infamous in Hawkins High. His wild antics in class, the cafeteria, and even the library were well known. You weren't going to lie to yourself, his personality had intimidated you.
He wasn't unkind to you, you both had exchanged polite smiles several times passing each other in the hallway on another monotonous day of school, "W-what time do I head over?" you ask Nancy, your voice apprehensive.
Giving you a sympathetic smile she responds, "Relax, it'll be fine, you got this!" Nancy encourages you, the energy radiating off her physique, "Find Mike, Dustin, or Lucas, and they'll tell you. According to rumors, take this with a grain of salt, they're a Satanic Cult." she rolled her eyes, "The shit people come up with is ridiculous, Mike is in Hellfire, it's just a Dungeons and Dragons club."
You agreed wholeheartedly, "Leave it to a bored small town to come up with something like that when it's just a game," familiar with D&D during your time babysitting Mike the game fascinated you, "so do you have some sort of plan? What do you want me to ask?" Attempting to divert your rising anxiety you focus your brain on the task at hand.
"Ask how he formed Hellfire, what gave him the idea, what makes it different from the other clubs. Come on, you've done this before, what's got you so anxious?"
Sighing in defeat, your gaze falls to the floor beneath your feet, "That obvious, huh?"
"It's not like you hide it well," she remarks with a smirk, your shoulders slump.
"I'm hopeless," you lament with a hint of playfulness.
"You're fine the way you are," she reassures you kindly.
Gathering your notebook and pencil you give Nancy a reluctant grin, "I got this,"
Nancy lights up at your words, "Great!" she pats your forearm, "Everyone's headed to lunch, you might catch Mike or someone from Hellfire on the way. Good luck!"
"Thanks, Nance," just like that she takes off, Fred Benson following suit.
Soon after you're out the door. Scanning carefully among the crowds of students you spot a familiar figure wearing a "Thinking cap" ball cap on his head. Zig-zagging your way through the crowd, your hand makes contact with the figure's shoulder, "Dustin!" you beam.
"Hey!" he turns to face you and gives you a big hug, "How have you been?"
"Oh, you know, getting through school," you shrug, "writing for the Hawkins paper," both of you move out of the way of the other students.
"How's that going?" Dustin asks, his grin not leaving his face.
"I need to interview Eddie for Hellfire, frankly I'm a little nervous,"
"That's great! We're gonna be famous!" he exclaims joyfully.
"I wouldn't go that far." you can't help but laugh at his vitality, scratching the back of your neck sheepishly, "What time do you start Hellfire?"
"After school. We usually try to wrap things up by 8:30 depending on what we're doing,"
"I-is Eddie nice?" your insecurities are rising and it's evident in your voice.
"Eddie is the best!" Dustin's grin gets wider, "He took Mike and me in when we were trying to find our place in Hawkins High! He's a great storyteller and world-builder! He even creates voices for the characters!" Dustin's admiration for Eddie seems to increase with every word that leaves his mouth, his eyes shining with respect, "The interview will go great!" Dustin's voice is the epitome of confidence.
Leaning against the wall a breath you didn't know you were holding in deflates out of your lungs like a balloon, taking your anxiety and insecurities out with it, "Thanks, Dusty, I needed that," you say with a smile, gratitude sparkling in your eyes.
"Anything for my favorite babysitter!" he playfully boops your nose.
You giggle, "You think it would be best if I wait until after Hellfire is over before I talk to him?"
"He'll be in a good mood. Post-campaign euphoria, y'know?"
Thinking back to the times the boys had finished a campaign, the victorious cries were heard from Nancys' basement, their energy infectious and journeying throughout the home, "I remember," you grin.
°♡°
The drama class door swung open, and congratulatory cheers can be heard from the confines. Mike is the first to emerge, sporting a grin that seemed to split his countenance. His dark eyes meet yours, "We won!" he addresses you with exuberance walking over to you.
"Congratulations!" The post-campaign euphoria affects you similarly; goosebumps erupt up your arms.
"I heard from Dustin, you gonna interview Eddie? Also how long were you waiting out here?" he asks, concern etched in his voice.
"Yes, and about ten minutes, not long at all, gave me time to calm my nerves,"
Mike seemed to relax slightly at your admission, "You're nervous?"
"Just a little, I'll deal," you shrug.
Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, Erica, and Gary exit the drama room. Dustin strolls over to Mike and you, "Did Mike tell you we gained a victory?"
"Eddies ready for you, head on in,"
"He informed me of your success, congratulations!" both of you high-fived, and you gave Mike one as well, not wanting to leave him out.
Dustin said.
Inhaling and exhaling a breath you say, "I'm ready,"
"We'll wait for you out here, right Mike?" Dustin faces his friend.
"Thanks, kids, you're awesome!" giving them a wink you head inside the drama classroom where the leader of Hellfire awaited you.
"Huh? Oh! Right, sure," Mike agrees.
°⁠♡°
Peering inside you see the infamous Eddie Munson, seated on his throne with an intense glare set on you.
Clearing your throat and wiping your hands on your high-waisted pencil skirt, "H-hello, how do you do," you introduce yourself in a voice that resembles a mouse.
"Eddie Munson." he snaps, his voice low and guarded.
"I'm here to interview you for the Hawkins High paper," informing him of your intentions you try your best to make your voice even and professional. Sitting down in the chair closest to him, you open your notepad and remove your pencil from your ear. Getting right down to business you ask him your first question, "What made you start Hellfire?"
"Wanted more people to play D&D with. Next question."
His short and malicious tone hit you right in the heart, the pain feeling like ice. Your breathing becomes unsteady as you write down Eddie's answer, "I-I see."
Feeling a lump form in your throat, you ask your next question, "How has," swallowing the lump in your throat, "Forming this club improved your academic performance?"
He let out a laugh that resembled a feral beast, "School sucks, it always has. Next question." More icy pain shoots up your body, stabbing your heart, and now your voice trembles writing down his answer once again,
"R-right?" letting out a weak chuckle, you agree with him.
You have one question left! You can do this!
Mentally cheering yourself on, you press forward.
"Among–"
"Cut the bullshit already." Once more he interrupts you, he seems to be in a rush to get to the bottom of the matter, the only issue is you have no idea what his problem is.
"W-what?" you stutter, blinking back tears forming, his harsh tone is like a viper biting into your flesh; the sting unrelenting.
"You're only here to make fun of the 'freak' the 'satan worshiper' AND the 'cult leader'!" he stood abruptly slamming his hand on the table, you flinch.
"I would never–"
You could only stand there frozen, stunned as his verbal assault resumed, "Well it's not going to work this time!
"I don't believe you! You're just like everyone else; judging without bothering to get to know them!" The snake's venom is seeping into your bloodstream along with the icy chill of his words. Frankly, you were taken aback, you'd no idea he thought this way about you, and you had no idea why this was hurting you so vastly.
His next words were the nail in the proverbial coffin, "You're nothing." he seethed, speaking through clenched teeth.
The venom swallowed you whole as the ice caught in your throat. Tears cascade down past your waterline like a faucet. Dropping your notepad and pencil absentmindedly you cast one last gaze into his face. His eyes were cold with malice and contempt. Making a quick turn you sprint toward the door, each step on the linoleum floor causes more ice to stab your heart.
He had called you "nothing", and you felt like it. Bringing your knees to your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself you bury your head in between your knees but it brings no solace to the void that was starting to consume you.
The door opened with a bang startling Dustin and Mike, "That was fa– Hey what happened?" Dustin noticed your tear-stained face but couldn't say anything further, you were already running down the hall with sobs escaping unbidden from your lips. With your vision fuzzy from the tears you can barely make out the sign for the girl's bathroom. Bursting inside you lean against the door sinking to the floor you weep.
°♡°
Eddie remained in the drama room, cleaning up the rest of the D&D pieces, a proud grin formed on his face, "Showed her," he murmurs.
"Eddie, what the hell happened?" Dustin makes an appearance, followed closely by Mike.
Eddie scoffs, facing the boys, "I protected us is what I did."
"How?" Mike asks, incredulously, not being able to comprehend what their Dungeon Master was saying.
"She is going to use that article to spread the rumors that Hellfire is a Satan-worshiping cult!" he asserts, picking up your notepad from the floor and tossing it onto the table, "Henderson, dispose of that."
Dustin picks up your notepad and peers at your notes or lack thereof he sees your teardrops on the paper, "No," he says firmly.
Eddie looks at Dustin, surprised that he refused his request, "And why not?"
"Because she's NOT like that!" Mike pipes up, the first to defend your honor.
Dustin nods at his best friend, "Mike's right, she'd never do something like that."
"What are you two, her knights in shining armor?" Eddie spat, he couldn't believe both of his friends weren't backing him up on this. He was one hundred percent certain you'd come to bully him, he wasn't going to take any chances, it was his job to protect his flock.
"Eddie," Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose, "what did you say to her?"
Eddie shrugged, "I told her she was nothing,"
"You mother–"
"Mike!" Dustin stopped Mike from saying something he'll most likely regret, "Eddie," he let out an exasperated sigh "She's one of the kindest people we've ever met. She babysat us when we were younger," Dustin explains, his tone serious. He's determined to let Eddie know he screwed up, "She genuinely cares about us and Dungeons and Dragons,"
Eddie slumped down on his throne, "So what you're saying is," he paused, there had to have been some merit to what they were saying if both Mike and Dustin were coming to your aid, "I screwed up?" he finishes, the realization sinking into him like a large stone into a lake.
"YES!" Dustin and Mike say in unison, the former slamming your notepad in front of Eddie's side of the table.
Your tearful expression flashed unbidden in Eddie's mind's eye; the sinking realization had finally hit him in full force. Placing his face in his hands he says, "Dammit!" his voice muffled, how could he have gotten something so wrong? Guilty bubbled in his gut, along with the fear that you won't forgive him, "I have to apologize! Right now!" he stands up in a panic grabbing your notepad, and frantically paces the room, "Where is she?" he demands the boys.
Eddie sprinted out the door in a desperate search for you.
"We don't know!" Will speaks up, "I can only guess she ran to the girl's bathroom."
°⁠♡°
Sitting on the cold, semi-dirty floor your wailing had subsided to short sobs and hiccups. How could he think so lowly of someone he had barely spoken to? You'd never imagined he'd be so cruel, callous, and so certain that you'd have malicious intent with your interview. You had a genuine interest in Dungeons & Dragons, and while you most likely wouldn't be good at it the game itself fascinated you.
Standing up on wobbly feet you stroll to one of the sinks and peer at your face. Your eyes are puffy and swollen with tear tracks down your cheeks, "Dammit," muttering to yourself, you half-heartedly wash your face the best you can. Sighing as droplets of water fall from your complexion, "What am I going to tell Nancy?"
Drying your face on the sandpaper-like paper towels you're startled by the bathroom door opening, instinctually your eyes fly to the door, surprised by the mop of frenzied curls that enter your field of vision. His remorseful, ashamed, and guilt-ridden face froze you on the spot.
"What are you–?"
"I'm so sorry!" he says between pants, as though he ran a marathon to find you, "I was wrong!"
Your face morphed into one of confusion, "Wrong about what?"
"I was wrong for assuming you'd bully me. I was wrong for not giving you a fair chance. I was wrong for being so cold to you. I was wrong about everything," he took several steps toward you until he was in front of you, "I'm sorry for making you cry…that is what I'm most ashamed of," his voice breaks, that's how you know his apology is sincere.
His words are like a panacea on your body; the frozen venom disperses. Peering into his eyes you say words he hoped to hear, "I accept your apology, Eddie Munson."
"Thank. You. Christ!" his shoulders slump in relaxation, "Oh!" he hands you your notepad, "Here, I'm sorry again,"
Gazing at the item in Eddie's hands you smile, "Thank you! And I'll accept that second apology on one condition."
"Name it and it's done."
"Can we leave? This is the girl's bathroom."
"Oh, shit!" he'd forgotten where he was, peering around he comments, "So much cleaner than the boys,"
"Okay, out!" you laugh, pushing him gently toward the door. Once you both were outside you say playfully, "You're forgiven, again,"
Eddie chuckles, "Thanks,"
"So," you hesitate, "are we friends now?" unsure of where you stand, you ask for clarification.
"Hell yeah, we're friends!" he says with conviction and no uncertainty.
"Good! That's good!" you grin.
"I want you to interview me properly this time. But before that, what was your last question?"
"My last question?"
"The one you were going to ask me before I blew up at you."
Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh that one!"
You clear your throat, "Among the people in Hellfire, who do you admire and why?"
Eddie looked taken aback; his mind drew a blank. Did he admire someone in Hellfire? He was admired, yes but did he ever feel that way for someone else? "Uh," he pauses, not knowing what to say.
"It's okay, we can answer the previous questions. The next paper doesn't come out until next week, I just like getting my work done early," Sensing his difficulty answering your question, you decide to ease his mind and give him time to think it over.
"Thank you, I'll answer your other questions at Benny's, I owe you a milkshake, my treat. I hope you don't mind a small detour I need to drive Henderson and Wheeler home," he starts to head back in the direction of the drama club, a spring in his step and humming a tune you didn't recognize.
"They are pretty cool." he agrees.
"Of course, I don't mind. Those kiddos are the best!" walking next to him, you praise the boys.
°⁠♡°
Once again you stroll the busy school hallways the next day, and you hear your name called.
"Hey!" Eddie approached with his hands behind his back.
"Hi, morning!" you greet him with a grin.
"I have the answer to your question."
"Oh? That's great! Do I need my notepad for this?" you ask, slinging your backpack off your shoulder.
"No, no this will be quick. It's you," he declares with a smile, his eyes shining with sincerity.
Your jaw drops, and your mind reels. You hadn't expected this, "What? Me?" you point to yourself.
"Yes, you, my new friend," he gazes at you fondly.
"I'm not a part of Hellfire,"
"Welcome to Hellfire."
"Not yet you're not," his arms move from behind his back, and he unveils the infamous shirt he and the rest of the club sport.
°⁠♡°
Reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💗
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gollancz · 1 year
Text
Why I'm Not Allowed On Twitter Unsupervised Any More: A Photo Essay
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Key Notes:
Since this was posted I discovered that the books had briefly been available in the UK under the name Peter Beagle rather than Peter S. Beagle in the mid-90s, which is why they didn't show up on the British Library search
The article by Tor.com @torbooks: Peter S. Beagle Has Finally Regained the Rights to His Body of Work
If you want our gorgeous limited edition, I believe there are still a handful left (except for the US and Canada, sorry lads), and you can get it here. I'm not kidding when I say I got a little teary-eyed when these showed up.
[Image Description: A tweet thread from the Gollancz twitter dated 20th July 2022, which goes as follows -
Tweet 1: You may have seen that we're printing a Brand New Edition of The Last Unicorn. We're very excited! I was asked to tweet about it. I wasn't asked to do it quite like this, but I also wasn't asked NOT to do it like this, and I have the twitter login so whose fault is that? (Thread emoji, and gif from the film Scream reading 'The Call is coming from inside the house!')
Tweet 2: Imagine, if you will, you are a small child in the UK during the late 80s/early 90s. You might look a bit like this, or you might have had parents who didn't choose suffering (ask my mum about The Saga of the Hat) (an image of a small girl approximately 3 years old wearing a blue dress and a big white hat)
Tweet 3: Imagine you have a cool older cousin, one who, as you get age, introduces you to fantasy films like Ladyhawk and The Princess Bride and has a post the whole family knows as 'the vampire and the naked lady'. She's extremely responsible for the way you turn out as an adult.
Tweet 4: One year, for your birthday, this cousin buys you a video. It's the first video that is yours, not to share. It has a bright yellow cover. The butterfly scares you. But you watch it on a loop. You don't realise how special it is, but it's a seed that burrows into your brain. (An image of a VHS of The Last Unicorn)
Tweet 5: A decade or so later, in your teens, you rediscover it. None of your friends have heard of it, despite also being fantasy-inclined. That's odd, you think. Is this an outlandishly weird title? Then you get older and you realise: no, it isn't. (Principal Skinner meme reading 'Am I out of touch? No, it's the people who don't know about The Last Unicorn who are wrong')
Tweet 6: Time and tech march on, you get a DVD of the film. You realise it's got Christopher Lee in it! And Angela Lansbury! Your mum tries to get you to listen to songs by America other than the soundtrack, but the only one that really sticks is the other one they did about a horse. (Gif of Walter White from Breaking Bad singing along to Horse With No Name)
Tweet 7: You realise that the film is based on a book. Like The Princess Bride, which you've also read (after spending longer than you're proud of trying to find an unabridged edition). 'Neat,' you think, 'I'll have to read that!'
Tweet 8: And then you can't find it. Because, as mentioned previously, you're in the UK. The Last Unicorn was published for the first time in 1968. But, if you look at the British Library's National Bibliography (super neat resource btw), that was, uh, about it. (screenshot of the search results from the National Bibliography showing four editions of The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle, one from Gollancz in 2022, one from IDW in 2019, one from Tachyon Publications in 2018, and one from Bodley Head in 1968)
Tweet 9: The Tachyon edition is the unfinished first draft of the story. The IDW edition is a gorgeous graphic novel. But in terms of the novel? I don't know how many reprints it had (if anyone knows, I'd love to find out), but there's a good chance it went out of print in the 70s.
Tweet 10: The film, however, was released in 1982. Although it didn't make it to the UK until 1986. Conservative estimates could put that between 10 and 15 years since the book was last available in the UK. This gives you a generation in the UK who only know the story through the film! (A screenshot of the IMDB page showing the different release dates for The Last Unicorn around the world)
Tweet 11: The screenplay was written by Peter S. Beagle, and made by the legendary animation directors Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass. That's right, the guys behind Thundercats and 2 out of the 3 films based on The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.
Tweet 12: The Book has been in print in the USA (and possibly all of North America) constantly since its publication, so it seems baffling that people in the UK haven't heard of it. As the internet became more prominent, however, it became easier to just... import a copy of the book.
Tweet 13: But! This also isn't quite as simple as you think. You see, until last year the rights to The Last Unicorn were tied up in legal limbo. And the US edition of the book contained changes that Peter wasn't happy with. (Link to the Tor.com article about the rights)
Tweet 14: Back to you, the 80s/90s kid, who is now an adult, happy that unicorns are A Thing again and you're living your best life. You're very easy to buy presents for. Your partner despairs of unicorns. You get a job working in books about magic and space. (unicorn emoji and photograph of a collection of unicorn memorabilia, including three different versions of The Last Unicorn)
Tweet 15: You mention that one day you would like to publish The Last Unicorn. That if you did, you would like to do a really beautiful edition of it. And you would like it to be purple. Because since the film is what you know, you associate it with purple.
Tweet 16: And, after taking a very circuitous route, here we are! This is the original text, that was first published in 1968. Reading it after you have only seen the film is the strangest experience - like being introduced to a very dear friend that you have never met before.
Tweet 17: Peter's screenplay kept the voice of the story so well, you can hear the characters when you read the book. But now there's so much more depth, softness and warmth to it. The butterfly doesn't seem so scary any more. And, it's beautiful. And it's purple. (Image of a hardback edition of The Last Unicorn, with a black base, purple background, and a linocut image of the unicorn in her wood. On the black cover underneath is a foiled unicorn with the moon and butterfly, the page edges are sprayed purple, and the endpapers are black with silver butterflies)
Tweet 18: Anyway, I've taken you on a three day trip that could have been done in a single tweet, but that's what happens when you let me drive. This edition is the limited exclusive one only available through the Gollancz Emporium and you can preorder here: (link to Gollancz Emporium)
Tweet 19: But there is also a standard edition available through all booksellers! You'll be getting the author's preferred text, with an introduction from Patrick Rothfuss. There's also a brand new audiobook and it will be available in eBook for the first time ever.
Tweet 20: It's like going from famine to feast, and I wasn't able to talk about this for months so now I am able to talk about it, I'm going to make the social media team cry. UNICORNS. SPECIAL EDITION. PURPLE. The End.
Tweet 21: Additional behind the scenes bonus detail - I did take this cover to the art meaning while wearing a unicorn onesie.
Tweet 22: The comms team wrestling me away from the twitter account: (gif of Ross from Friends shouting 'Stop typing! Stop typing!')
End ID]
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wishjacked · 1 month
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Happy #WebcomicDay!! :D
This year we're celebrating the process of making pages... so below the cut I've got a bunch of pictures sharing how I go about making pages of my evil post-apocalyptic workplace sitcom, Cargo!! :D
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So! My process!!
Writing-> I think sometimes there's pressure to "write" your comic a certain way, I see people talking about script format and stuff a lot. That really doesn't work for me, though! I write my "first draft" script in short scenes on scrap paper, in whatever order they come to me. Sometimes a scene will just be one or two lines, and then a little description of what I want to happen in the rest of the scene.
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Later I type the scene up, and write the "connective tissue" that fits between the disjointed scenes so they all flow together like they ought. I don't do page breaks or even character tag or action notes hahahaha I like it to be as BASIC as POSSIBLE so it's easy to edit. And since I'm the person drawing it I can almost always remember who's supposed to be saying what lmao
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I edit a lot, but the most major editing is also probably the last bit... when I letter my pages usually I realize "they would never say that" and so I end up rephrasing everything. My art brain is sometimes waaaaay better at phrasing hahaha. Like you can see in the finished page for this script I rewrote like basically all of it, and actually went back to the original "sketch" script in a lot of places.
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Thumbnailing-> my thumbs are really big, I draw them with markers on printer paper and keep them in a binder!! I like to thumb scenes in batches and I also usually write my dialogue on them, just so I can read through them before (and while) I draw to get a feel for how the pacing works. :)
youtube
Sketching-> OH sketching is also really hard for me! I don't have a good visual imagination so it's really important for me to make sure I have good references. Last year I was especially focusing on setting.
My comic is set in Florida. I'm lucky in that I used to live there and still go back to visit sometimes, so sometimes I can gather my own reference images! But more often I start on Google Maps or Zillow, trying to find buildings that have interesting features or the right kind of "look" for what I want. I'll also look up other interesting elements, my comic is set in a post-apocalypse and I'll research home gardening and things like that which people would probably have.
For example, in this set in chapter 7, I used Google Maps images, photo references of indoor hydroponic gardening, and like, 90's-00's hacker computer setups haha. Also my BFF Roomstyler.com, where you can make 3d house interiors haha!!
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Lineart-> I LOVE lineart it is my favorite!!!! I sketch and ink two pages at a time, and it usually takes somewhere between 10-12 hours to do both steps.
I actually think my art looks best when it's just lineart... but I think my STORY is better with color, like it makes it clearer and easier to read and it has a better atmosphere HAHA.
Colors-> I think it usually takes me 4-6 hours to do 2 pages (I haven't timed myself as consistently as I time my lineart and sketching). I have a big file with small copies of my previous pages that I color drop from, and my characters are all flats only. The limited palette that I use is also really handy, it streamlines coloring a LOT.
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Finishing Touches-> aka I steal mercilessly from my one true love, my internet home, the beautiful and blessed Wikimedia Commons
I put lots of overlay layers on my art! I like textures so having some strange little textures or pictures on things makes my art feel a lot more finished to me.
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And finally my very most favorite ✨finishing touch✨ is the bright colored/patterned gutters that I use. Here are some of my favorites that I've made and used in the past!
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And that's all!! I hope you guys have a very happy Webcomics Day and find lots and lots of wonderful new things to read!!!
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anonymous-rendezvous · 7 months
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You Comfort Him - 💙 Ike
Ike Eveland x GN!Reader
✦ — Written by Mod I ✨. Beta Read and Edited by Mod S 👿. ⏌
✧ — Comfort & Care Masterlist | He comforts you 💙
✦ — Contains: Established Relationship, fluff, & comfort
✧ — Word count: 786 | Ao3
Snippets of time showing how you and your partner care for each other.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
“Ugh, no, this one’s bad too! Come on brain, think of something new!” You can hear the telltale signs of crumpled paper immediately followed by a frustrated sigh. The muffled sounds of Ike’s brainstorming session – if it can even be called that at this point – can be heard from your spot in the living room.
Ike has been like this for a week now, trying to pump out a new idea after the large success of his last book. The only problem is, he poured his heart and soul into the previous work. And without a proper break, he won’t be able to do the same with the next one. You’ve known this for a while now, but you hadn’t wanted to interrupt him, worried it’d only make the situation worse. Though now, hearing the frustrated groans of your boyfriend, you began to regret your decision.
With a sigh, you set your drink on the coffee table before getting up from your comfy spot on the couch. “Okay, he needs cuddles.” Your steps are determined as you make your way down the hallway toward his office. Two firm knocks are the only warning you give before opening the door.
Ike turns in his chair, looking at you with wide eyes, “Darling? Is everything okay?” It’s rather sweet to see the way he immediately worries about you even with his current predicament.
With a shake of your head, you march up beside him before planting your hands on your hips. “No. You, sir, need a break.” You raise a hand as you continue, “Your options are bed cuddles, couch cuddles, or I koala you right here in that chair.” With each option, you lift a finger, emphasizing your seriousness. Hazel eyes blink owlishly up at you, turning to look down at his desk and then back at you. The novelist’s brows furrow, opening his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with a pleading look, “Please, Ike. You need a break.” Taking a step closer to him, you lightly grab at his shoulder. “Your work will still be here after a good rest.”
The tension drains from both his expression and posture. He took another look at the mess that is his desk; covered in papers, ink, and even messier ideas. He did need a break, didn’t he? He lets out a deep sigh before returning his attention to you, exhaustion finally sinking its teeth into him after hours of draining its prey. “...Bed cuddles do sound nice.” With a soft smile, you offer him a hand, which he graciously accepts.
Leading him to your shared bedroom, the pair of you crawl into bed. His glasses are set safely aside as you get comfortable, rustling the blankets up to get warm. You are propped up against the pillows as Ike rests his head against your chest, wrapping his arms around you to clutch at the back of your shirt. One of your hands rests on his upper back while you tenderly brush through his hair with your other hand; swirling a strand around your finger occasionally. A comfortable silence rests between the two of you for a good while before Ike speaks up, tone quiet as though speaking any louder would shatter the serene atmosphere. “I'm sorry.”
You make a small noise, and Ike can feel the vibrations of it against his cheek. “You have nothing to apologize to me about. I’m just sorry I didn’t try to help you earlier.”
He shakes his head against you; the soft texture of his hair against your skin causes an almost ticklish sensation. “No, I’m an adult and I should’ve been acting like one. I’ve been so stressed over creating my next story I made you worry over me like a child.”
With a light laugh, you reply, “I’d be a shitty partner if I didn’t worry about you.” You give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, while your other hand cradles the back of his head.
He’s silent for another minute before muttering against your clothed chest, “I just want my next story to be good. I want people to enjoy it as much as they did the last one…”
“And they will, love.” You soothe, letting your fingers return to combing through his hair. “You just need to give yourself time. Go back to it later with fresh eyes. It’ll only be as good as your other book when you're enjoying yourself, not when you're frustrated and angry.”
His arms tighten around you, taking in your words. After a moment, Ike lifts his head enough to place a kiss against your shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You reply, sealing your words with a kiss placed on his forehead.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!
We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.
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kiiwiigii · 9 months
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Night-Time Reading
Alec x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are having a rough day managing your POTS/CFS. All you want to do is relax and Alec is there to help.
Warnings:
Fluff! Nothing but tooth rotting fluff.
Word Count: 400+
Requested?: Yes!
So I'm going through a really rough time, I'm disabled (pots and CFS) and my cfs is acting up badly cause school started and I've been so busy I haven't had a break period, constantly walking and running and being busy. now I have a three day weekend so my body is letting myself feel the consequences of pushing myself too far, so I was wondering if I could suggest some comfort? Alec with a mate that either has cfs or just has some symptoms and just him keeping them as comfortable as possible while they're in pain Common symptoms (including the ones I'm going through) - joint pain (I can barely go up stairs and walk -extreme temp fluctuations (really hot to really cold quickly) -brain fog (brain is foggy. I'm too weak to open a bottle of coke so I left it open and while talking I tipped it over and forgot it was open) -migraines/headaches -sore throat -trembling -really tired but can't fall asleep and/or sleeps for a really long time Thank you for listening 🫶🏼 -🦊
A/N: Hey nonny! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to write this. Honestly, I was (and still am I suppose) intimidated to write this, simply because these illnesses are not something I am not even remotely familiar with. But I also want to thank you because it's a good writing exercise for me. I'm also sorry that you're having such a rough time. I can't even imagine. So here's a fic, just for you, darling. I hope you're feeling better.
Another A/N: So the wonderful and amazing @alecvolturi did an amazing edit of Alec reading the first bit of The Hobbit. Please give it a listen as you read. It's PERFECT.
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Miserable.
I was fucking miserable.
It began just by sitting up. I could feel the migraine building, and I was already in the throws of a hot flash. It didn't help that the pain in my joints was flaring up again.
It was 3 a.m. and I was already this close to crying. I couldn't remember the last time that I had a proper nights sleep. I just wanted one day, one day where I didn't have to be in pain or worry that any movement I made would set off a whole other series of symptoms, all of which almost all of them were painful.
"Darling?" Alec was next to me, his cold hands running over my heated skin, trailing goosebumps behind in his wake.
His hands were a sweet, cool balm on my flushed skin. It gave me a little relief. I leaned into him, enjoying the cold. His lips pressed to my forehead.
"Scale of 1 to 10?"
"7 to 8." I mumbled.
One would think with how long that I've lived with this disease that I would have a high pain tolerance. That couldn't be further from the truth. I could already feel a few tears slipping from beneath my lashes. I just wanted something to make the pain go away.
I whined as Alec disappeared, only to reappear with my meds and a bottle of water a moment later.
"Here, drink." He handed me the pills and water, and I took them gratefully. He pulled the comforter from the floor where I had kicked it off, bundling it back up on the bed for us to lay down on. He then grabbed my phone, pulling up my favorite playlist, the one he made for me to help me calm down when I felt like shit. The music started flowing through the speaker near my bed at a low volume.
"What book, darling?" His eyes were already scanning my bookshelves.
"Uhm…" I blinked back at him slowly, trying to process what he said.
"How about The Hobbit?"
"Perfect." I rasped with a small smile.
He was next to me again in a flash, his back against the headboard as he pulled me gently to him, a pillow already ready in his lap.
"In the hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit." His voice lilted over me, and I felt myself begin to relax as his hands gently ran through my hair and along my neck.
The fine mist that signaled the use of his gift began to unfurl from his fingers and I felt myself begin to numb. The first time he had done this it had been disconcerting, but now I welcomed it with relish. A small reprieve from the pain. I smiled to myself, letting my eyes slip closed as I listened.
Then finally, sleep came for me.
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{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}
Taglist: @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3r @rosedpetal
Wanna be notified when I post a new fic? Ask to join my taglist!
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he-goes-down · 8 months
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0. There Was A Time
fic chapters/warnings/disclaimers/ect
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:DISCLAIMER:
Mentions of drugs/ sex ect.
English is not my first language
POV changes
x reader
inconsistent updates
time line is not perfect or accurate
Character may also not be accurate
I'll also be posting this on wattpad and maybe ao3
So if you see it wasn't stolen<3
Also i dont know how tumblr works and how to link chapters together(someone send help)
ALSO THIS NOT EDITED IN ANYWAY SO SORRY IF THERE ARE SPELLING MISTAKES
THANK YOU FOR READING MWUAH MWUAH
LEAVE COMMENTS <3
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The studio was warm in the coldest night of this Autumn, warm yellowish light and the red carpeted floor made it feel like a cosy log cabin. A full drum set with a few too many ride cymbals and windchimes sat close to the middle of the fat bare bricked wall, with a small metal bucket that had the remains of broken splinter drumsticks. A rack of guitars and two bass holders stood next to the right wall where an old armchair sits, a few different sized amps scattered round the square room. Right in front of the glass that separates the control room from the studio three mic stand in a line with noise cancelling boxes surrounding each of them.
In the control room there is a strong smell of weed and other smokeable herbs, "No! You can't take Runaway Blues off the album!" A man with short shoulder length brown hair and a moustache protested as he puffed on his cigarette as he lied back on the couch, his dark glasses fell back on his face as he tilted his head back. "I agree with Jake. It shows how good we are even when we're shit faced." The man with long curly hair, a gorgeous ethnic nose, stood up – towering over the other 4 people in the sesh – and began to roll another blunt on one of the control panels. The one that started this debated piped in, "Thanks Dan for taking my side." He said sarcastically, his curly mullet was like a solid cloud on his head, and he has a moustache like Jake. "We'll our wonderful manager and producer here," A man that looked like Jesus pointed to a woman that sat next to Jake on the couch. "Was the one that wasn't shit faced, I think that's why it was actually good, Joshua." He finished. "Hey, hey, I'm not saying it's shit because of you, please believe me y/n!" Josh dramatically pleaded to y/n. She was looking up at the ceiling. Pupils dilated. Blunt in hand. "Just, make it shorter." She said confidently, waving her hand a bit. Still not looking at anyone and head craned back. "You have the answer to everything." Danny said his mouth slightly gaped that such a simple solution didn't register in any of their minds. Or he's just on a psychedelic trip and can't spark up a brain cell.
The following week the band had dates in LA since they were still doing there 'Dreams in Gold' Tour. The band was already at the venue setting up, some still sleeping in the bus. Y/n had some business to attend to in their studio in New York before going down to LA. She decided to walk down the infamous Sunset Strip, as a historic music place like this could not go untrekked when having the chance. Wearing a black turtleneck, dark blue flare jeans with dark brown boots and a satchel bag hanging from her shoulder, a small suitcase's handle in the other hand while the silver case dragged its wheels on the floor. As she caught the sight of the colourful sign of The Rainbow, a voice called to her. "Y/n?" A older man, short blondish hair, leather jacket, sunglasses.
Axl Rose.
And like the trigger of a gun being pulled,
A life was lost.
(or misplaced)
Y/n's POV:
Everything stood still,
I stood still.
Then it all went dark. It was a black lifeless void.
Falling backwards but being physically still.
Time was reversing.
A previous life. My life?
Memories rolling past like an old film.
My head spiralled.
I can't comprehend this. What is happening to me?
My first years of school, late 60's early 70's. That's not right. It was the early 2000's.
Falling in love with music, Queen, Elton John.
Highschool was trip. My parents being stricter than anyone else's, they didn't believe I could have a job as in the music industry.
Studying music in college then going on the Uni and taking a science course to get my folks off my back.
One of my most successful record deals was Mötley Crüe and Bon Jovi.
Before they even started writing lyrics for their songs, I knew it off by heart and helped them gain success with it and recording went like dream.
Now I was searching the East Coast for a new band to sign.
March 1985, The City of Angels.
A flash of light, and my eyes flickered open.
It a cold night, dark but the city light was somewhat comforting.
It was the Sunset Strip, but something was...
Off.
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OMG SORRY IF IT'S SHIT
THIS WAS LIKE THE INTRODUCTION, FIRST PART IS COMING OUT SOON 
IM SO EXCITED
(Band at the beginning is greta van fleet )
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thatfreshi · 9 months
Text
"Deny Him" (Uni AU P. 2)
This might be the weirdest party you've been invited to.
tw - alcohol/drugs slightly mentioned, light description of sex, hints at abuse
@justporo
You're a little shocked, immediately being invited to a party by a model who doesn't even know you. Astarion looks you up and down, his eyes narrowed.
"Okay, well you most definitely cannot go like this. Come darling, I'm sure I have some clothes to spare."
He doesn't wait for you, simply beginning to walk, expecting you to follow. You do indeed follow, and he just keeps talking.
"So what do you think of our dear Shadowheart?"
"She doesn't seem to like you."
He shrugs.
"Not many people do. I'm an acquired taste, for only the most refined palettes."
He goes into his coat pocket, grabbing his room key, quickly entering.
"I know just the thing to give you, mainly because I'm so tired of it sitting in my closet.
The room is quite nice. You put together in your head that RAs must get their own rooms, because it's set up more like an apartment than a dorm. The two of you walk into his bedroom, which is surprisingly empty. It's also quite dark, as he took the liberty of putting up blackout curtains. Astarion opens his closet, which is full of random mismatched designer pieces, ranging over the past six years. He's precise as he moves the hangers around, finding a floral jacket.
"Here. You can keep it. It's so 2017 anyways."
You don't fully understand what that means, and you're not sure if being 'so 2017' is an insult, but you go along with it. The jacket fits pretty well for it not being tailored to your body.
"And if you ever need some extra money, you can probably sell that for a quick five hundred dollars."
Your eyes go wide, suddenly very scared to ruin a piece of fabric. Why is he giving a stranger something so expensive? He continues to look around in his nightstand, you're not sure for what. You start trying to remember what you've read about this man. There's been a lot of talk online recently on if his eyes are actually red, or if they're just contacts.
"So, are your eyes really red?"
He laughs.
"Gods no. That's the magic of editing my dear. Technically they're brown, but they look red in some lighting, and my editors have decided to play into it."
"And the hair?"
"Oh, it looks far too healthy to be bleached. All natural darling. Have you never seen an albino before?"
"I guess I haven't."
Without saying anything, he finally finds what he's looking for, a short gold necklace adorned with opals.
"Now, I do want this back, and if you break it I will ruin your life, promise."
He clasps is around your neck, hooking it properly on the first try.
"There. Decent enough I suppose. Besides, I don't have time to give you a proper makeover. You do have good bone structure though. Anyways, off we go!"
Shadowheart was right, he really doesn't stop for anything. It's a little intriguing though, how fast his brain works. All of his movements are so precise, decisive. Even something as simple as opening the door, the way his fingers wrap around the doorknob is carefully thought out. It's as if someone's following him, looking for mistakes, jotting down everything he gets wrong.
The two of you make some small talk on the way to the parking garage, which he doesn't seem all that interested in. He still walks in front of you, his coat leading close behind him because of just how fast he walks.
"So, what exactly is this party you're taking me to?"
"Just something Szarr put together for him and a couple of designer friends. The seven of us though, we're expected to be everywhere he is."
You can't see him, but he says it through gritted teeth.
"Why?"
"I've always assumed it's to show off. He likes to make it clear that he has refined taste in models, especially to his peers."
"And that doesn't bother you?"
Your question stops him in his tracks, as if no one's ever asked. You almost run into his back due to the sudden stop.
"No."
He says it slowly, and continues walking again, cautious at first. Nothing else is said of it. When you approach Astarion's car, it's more run-down than you expected. It's clearly an older model, something that's been repaired multiple times. You take the shotgun seat. The car ride is silent, and you mainly watch the details of his hands as he drives. They're a little shaky, slender. You have to admit, they're quite attractive. You watch as he shifts gears when you get onto the main street. It's almost peaceful, the silence, the city lights at night. Of course, until there are red and blue lights behind you.
"Shit. I'm already going to be late."
He hisses, pulling over to the side of the road. Oddly enough, he doesn't go to grab his driver's license. Instead, he just rolls down his window, waiting for the officer to come up to him. You watch in awe at how he just doesn't seem to care.
"License and- oh not you again."
He slides his shades down.
"Hello darling. Nice evening, isn't it?"
"I can't keep letting you get away with speeding."
"Oh, what's five miles over the speed limit?"
"Illegal, that's what it is."
"I'm sure I could make it worth your while if you let me off with a warning."
His words become slow and drawn out, like nectar from his tongue.
"You're lucky you know people around here. Go on, get out of here."
And with that, the officer leaves, and Astarion pulls back onto the road, not even waiting for the police car to leave. You're in awe of his audacity.
"Did you just... did you just try to bribe him with sexual favors?"
"Hm, did I? Bad habits are hard to kill I suppose."
He doesn't say anything else, leaving you to ponder his actions. Perhaps he's a little spoiled at his level of fame, but there's something else, and you can't quite put your finger on it. Before you can come to any kind of conclusion, you're parked outside some unassuming bar.
"Here we are darling. Don't worry, this place has a basement level that's much nicer than meets the eye."
When you make it inside, there's a single bartender cleaning beer mugs. Astarion gives her a nod, and walks to the back, where a door leads to a small staircase.
"After you."
His smirk is different now, almost as if he changed it on purpose. You walk down, and he follows closely behind. The sounds of music and chatter fill your ears, and the smell of smoke hits your nostrils, almost making you cough. You try to clear your throat, earning a chuckle from the model. When you reach the floor, the room is filled with a thin haze of smoke, with plenty of rich-looking people draping themselves across velvet chairs, talking about whatever yacht they just invested in and what stocks they're insider trading.
"Well, look who decided to show up. Szarr's been looking for you."
You recognize this woman as Aurelia, another one of the seven. Her reddish-brown hair is put back in multiple braids. Astarion is slightly tense at Aurelia's words.
"What did he say?"
For the first time since you met him less than a hour ago, he sounds uncertain. The woman meets your eyes, and then looks back at him.
"Private business. I'd be quick about it. Sure being late won't help matters much."
He sighs.
"Alright, well take my friend Tav here. I'll be back."
Just like that, he's gone.
"Tav? What a fun name. It's Aurelia, but I'm sure you've heard. My, my, he picked a gorgeous one, didn't he?"
It's almost as if she's looking right through you. Then, you process her words.
"What do you mean 'picked?'"
"We often scout for other models, for lesser shows that Caz- Szarr, is involved in. His Winter showcase is coming up, and Astarion hasn't exactly been pulling his weight as of recent. I assume he found you to try and appease him. After all, your bone structure is wonderful."
The same thing he told you earlier.
"I assume though that he was sloppy, and didn't tell you this beforehand."
"No, he didn't mention it."
"Well don't worry. Szarr will give you the whole spiel on why you should work for him, the fame and glamor, the money."
She gets close to you, wrapping her hand around your ear.
"Deny him."
Before you can ask her what she could possibly mean, or why you should deny him, Astarion comes back with Szarr in tow. Of course, you've never seen him in person, but his energy is quite off-putting. His black hair is slicked back, and his neck is adorned in many expensive chains.
"And this is Tav? A pleasure."
Without asking, he leaves a kiss on your hand, lasting on your skin a little too long.
"I'm sure you've seen my work, and my gorgeous children."
Something is wrong. Extremely wrong. You don't know what, but his voice makes you feel nauseous. Why would he call them his children?
"Of course. Although, I will admit I'm not much for fashion."
His mouth droops slightly, but it's all an act. He already knew what you were going to say.
"What a shame. And here I was just thinking about how your shoulders would make my latest dress look spectacular. Well, I'll leave you all to socialize then."
As he begins to walk away, he lingers by Astarion for a moment, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"And perhaps lay off the champagne tonight? You're looking a little puffy."
His hand grips the pale man's shoulder, causing him to wince a little, before he disappears into the crowd.
"What did you say to them Aurelia?"
"Just that you were trying to pimp them out to our lovely boss."
"God damn it, can you just keep your mouth shut?!"
You must look hurt, because when Astarion meets your eyes again, he almost looks guilty.
"It's fine. I'll find some other way to get back in his good graces. Apologies Tav. Most people jump at the opportunity to model for a man like that. I figured you would be that same."
"Like I said, you're losing your touch. Soon enough you won't be his favorite anymore."
The whole thing is making your head spin. This whole thing with Szarr, it almost feels like a cult. Your anxiety is spiking, your body screaming at you to leave. You listen, and turn to make a quick exit back up the stairs.
"Tav, wait."
Light footsteps follow you up the stairs.
"No, this is weird! Whatever's going on here, it's not right. Something isn't right."
As you hit the top floor, his hand grips around your wrist, gracefully turning you to look back at him. He was right, in the moonlight his eyes do look red.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you into all of this, I've just been a little... desperate. It really is fine, but my plan wasn't to make you uncomfortable."
"How do you work with him? He seems, disgusting."
He looks off to the side, clearly thinking about what to say. Instead of speaking though, his eyes meet yours again, his gaze bouncing between yours and your lips.
"Aurelia was right. You are gorgeous."
The tone suddenly shifts, and his hands creeps up from your wrist to your face, pulling you into a kiss. You give in, the attraction for him somehow growing. He laces a hand in your hair, and soon you're both stumbling back out to his car, forgetting about the events from moments ago. The two of you fall into the back seat of the small car. Maybe you go along with it since you haven't slept with anyone in a while, or maybe because you simply can't pass up the opportunity that's been presented to you. It's mind-altering though, the sex. The same way he is with everything else, he's precise and decisive. He knows every spot on your body as if he's studied it his whole life. When things wind down, and you both catch your breath, something in his eyes shifts, pushing his hair back into place.
"We should get back. Sure you have a busy day tomorrow."
With that, you're putting your top on in the back seat of a stranger's car. When you do get back in the shotgun seat and look over at him, you remember the police stop, and what he said to you after.
Bad habits are hard to kill.
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storm-and-starlight · 3 months
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Storm's Fic Recs: Transformers Edition
I was in Transformers fandom from June 2022 to February 2024. Here are the fics that I'll still carry with me, even though I've moved on. (I tried to tag as many people as possible, but I couldn't find everyone -- my apologies to cerkowah, jabberish, & buttface)
Victory Condition and Champion by Astolat (@astolat on Tumblr) Victory Condition more or less rewired my brain, and I don't just mean that it yeeted me into Transformers fandom almost entirely against my will or intention. It... sort of reset the way I saw the world? it's hard to explain. Either way, the poetry is very good. Champion is something of a spiritual predecessor to Victory Condition, but a lot more. just. fun. Ending the war with the power of dance parties. It's great. Victory Condition: Loosely G1, Megop, rated E Champion: Loosely G1, largely gen, rated T
Lonely Signals by Anefi (@anefi on Tumblr) SPACE WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALES god I love a good space whales story, and not only does this have space whales in abundance it also manages to nail down the impact of a four-million year war perfectly, without feeling too small or like it's going too big to be felt. IDW2005, Cosmos/Soundwave, rated T
Rest Easy by Largishcat (@largishcat on Tumblr) I barely ever read Dratchet, but this one... it's not "so good I read it despite the ship", it's so good I read it for the ship. Like Lonely Signals, it's one of very few fics I've found that actually manage to sell the scope of the war, and the Ratchet characterization is on-fucking-point. IDW2005, Dratchet, Megatron/Ratchet, rated E
the triumph of time (series) by oriflamme (@sunderedstar on Tumblr) I read all 400,000 words or so of this series in about four days. It's a rewrite of the end of IDW but make it epic (as in Tolkienesque) (seriously, idk how else to describe it except that I get the same sense of world-weight and cataclysmic events as I do from a lot of LOTR and high fantasy) but add in poetry and melancholy and history and also repairing everything that went wrong in IDW that never really got addressed. IDW2005, mostly rated T, some G. Check the tags for pairings.
Hazard Light by EatYourSparkOut, Emporianne, & cerkowah (@eatyoursparkout & @emporianne on Tumblr) This one's mostly on here for two things: 1.) doing hanahaki in a way that is like. actually thoughtful and not weird about love or unrequited love or anything like that, and 2.) doing hanahaki with robots. It's an absolutely brilliant setup that's brilliantly executed, and also Brainstorm and Percy are cute and pining and very dumb about it. MTMTE, Brainstorm/Perceptor, rated M
I'm All Full Up on Yesterdays, Don't Sing Me No More Blues by DesdemonaKaylose (@desdemonakaylose on Tumblr) Look, I know I say this a lot, but this fic has got the vibes down. It's exactly the take on Jazz that I've been looking for, all music and motion and city lights. Loosely Transformers: Prime, Jazz/Prowl, rated M
Send us a Blindfold, Send us a Blade by Trinary (@trinarysuns on tumblr) This was the first non-Astolat fic I read in this fandom that actually had an impact on me, and what an impact it was. One of the things that I love most about Transformers fic (especially IDW fic) is the sense of the... the timescale of the war? The weight of looking back and seeing how much has changed, and this fic really nails that specific sort of nostalgia. (Same kinda thing with how Lonely Signals/Rest Easy handle the war, but this one handles the revolution.) IDW2005, Starscream/Thundercracker, Starscream/Thundercracker/Skywarp, rated M
Attaque Composée (series) by neveralarch (@neveralarch on Tumblr) It's a fencing AU, but also they're all still robots, but also it's one of the most heartwrenching takes on IDW Starscream that I've seen (and that's saying something). The twisting of canon to fit the AU is masterfully done. IDW2005, Starscream/Wheeljack, mostly rated G, one T, one M.
Mistakes on Mistakes Until- by jabberish This one's an excellent sci-fi epic with everything that Jazz lends himself really well to in fic? Intrique and plot twists and General Shenaniganery. It's really fun. Transformers - All Media Types, Jazz/Prowl, rated M, currently incomplete but updating
Fathomless by Sroloc_Elbisivni (@sroloc--elbisivni on Tumblr) This is exactly the kind of vaguely-fairytale-magical-realism sort of tragedy-with-a-happy-ending that I live for, and it's especially notable in that that is not, precisely, the vibe that Transformers lends itself to and yet this fic pulls it off so well. Loosely G1, Jazz/Prowl, rated T
Your Own Hands by SatelliteSoundwave (@satellitesoundwave on Tumblr) An absolutely incredible example of non-linear storytelling. Not only is the actual order of scenes non-linear, it's tightly tied to the story itself. Wreckers Trilogy, Taraprowl, rated M
the only thing left out in the light by buttface Literally the only fic I've found that deals with the whole "Rodimus died on the alternate Lost Light and Drift held his funeral" thing, and it does it so beautifully. MTMTE, Driftrod, rated T
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jellogram · 2 years
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WRITING TIPS FOR PEOPLE WITH ADHD
You guys liked my other post with writing tips, so I thought I'd make a list for this too. I have ADHD combined type and I've written two novels and dozens of short stories, so here is what works for me!
If you have meds, take them a while before you start working and do something else. I like to play dress up games while I wait for them to kick in, because it's creative enough to wake up my brain. Doll Divine has really cool and artistic games. Only use activities that have clear end points so it's easier to stop when your meds have kicked in. Stay away from open world games or anything with an endless scroll.
Have special locations that you only use to write. Make sure you bring a flannel or jacket in case the AC is too cold, and bring headphones in case there's noises there. Try several different places until you find something comfortable. I like casual spaces where there's nooks and comfy chairs. Coffee shops are my go-to.
If you can't leave the house, sit in a particular spot in your room and make that your writing spot. Only sit in that spot when you're writing.
Speaking of headphones, rainymood.com is my go-to for drowning out noise. Usually I like background chatter, but if there's a buzzing fan or someone talking too loud on the phone, this site helps.
Start by re-reading what you wrote last time and making small edits. You might have to read it a few times before you can pay attention and that's okay. Just keep re-reading and making edits as you notice them until you feel more in the zone.
If you are at home, take breaks to put on music and jump around. I like Latin music for this purpose. If you're in public, try just walking around the building a couple times.
If I really can't get into it, for some reason it helps to take a break and make some tea. Green tea with ginger is calming enough to help me focus while also having a little boost of caffeine.
If you notice big changes need to be made and you can't relax until you deal with it but know it would take ages to fix, put it in a comment and move on.
If you want to get a big distracting section out of your way without totally deleting it, you can use a separate doc and copy paste it in there. Or download the SideNote add-on for Google docs.
Set reminders on your phone to eat and go to the bathroom in case you get too hyperfocused. I've forgotten to eat for entire days because I was writing, so it's good to have a back-up in case you go down the rabbit hole.
If you start getting really frustrated that you can't focus and you feel like you want to scream, take a break. Get a snack. Play sudoku. Make some coffee or tea. Sit outside. Be wary of checking your phone though, because it's easy to get wrapped up in that.
I tend to put all my usual fidget toys somewhere I can't get to them when I'm writing, because I find that if I pick one up to think, I can't put it back down to start typing. Everyone is different but look out for that and if you find them distracting you, set them aside.
Consider turning off your phone. If that's not an option, a lot of phones have a wellness feature that allows you to set app timers or turn your screen black and white. Consider setting your phone to go into wellness mode when it's time to write so it's less tempting.
Lastly, there are going to be days when it just doesn't work. Even with my meds, I sometimes just spend three hours beating my head against a wall and then go home. It's okay. Creative work is hard for anyone, especially when you're fighting your ADHD every step of the way. Don't beat yourself up and don't let it discourage you. Even if you didn't put anything down, you still spent some time thinking about writing, and that's worth something. Try again the next day and the day after and you'll get it eventually. The flow state is worth trying for.
Update: bolded some important items for accessibility
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carrymelikeimcute · 2 months
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Stop Stealing from Authors
As an author, please please PLEASE do not download 'free' ebooks or listen to 'free audiobooks' on YouTube etc.
Books take work to research and write, and author advances are already incredibly low, without us having to PAY THEM BACK to the publisher because the book isn't earning enough. Authors are already earning far far below the minimum wage per hour of work we put in.
Many ebooks are incredibly cheap already and have regular price drops down to 99p/$0.99, and are FREE using a library app.
Audiobooks likewise can be accessed digitally for FREE via the library.
Authors in countries like my own receive a small amount of money when you access our content via the library. Money which means we can keep writing books. Using the library also gives them visitor numbers and incentivises funding, preventing library closures.
Funding piracy makes the already very hard job of writing as a career even harder and endangers library resources.
'Well then maybe you should get a real job' I have a job, and that job is being an author. It is very entitled to tell authors that we need to essentially have a full time job AND still produce content for you to enjoy for free, at a speed/quality which makes writing also a fulltime job.
As a fulltime author I wrote 3 novels last year, each with 4-5 rounds of edits at different stages in the process. I also edited the two books I wrote the previous year during that time. Hundreds of hours of work. And I have since seen piracy websites making money off of that work.
Saying that piracy 'expands the reach of our books' is as insulting as being 'paid in exposure'. If you want something that someone made, you have to pay them for it. It is not doing someone a favour, to steal from them. And let's be real - how many people are you telling about each book you steal? Are you recommending the piracy site to others in the same breath? Are you just rating on goodreads and counting that as 'payment' for what you stole?
If you want to get a free book and 'expand the reach' - sign up to Netgalley and get free books in exchange for posting reviews.
'But then I can't read all the books I want to read' - Why should you get everything you want? Genuine question. I don't have all the make-up I want, or all the decor I want, but I'm not shoving stuff in my pockets because it's not fair that I don't get to have everything my magpie brain desires. You don't have enough time in your life to read every book anyway. You have to choose.
I bet you also have more than one unread book in your possession, right now. Probably a TBR pile. Why do you need another one for free, when you have books to read? And if you don't want to read those books, you can access every book, via the library.
Authors would even prefer that you buy our books second hand, because at least that 1. is good for the environment as it keeps books out of landfill and 2. benefits charity if you purchase for a charity bookshop/ doesn't benefit pirates. And 3. unlike a stolen ebook, you can donate it again and it will be visible on a shop shelf, attracting new readers.
'You should write because you love it, not for money' I do write because I love it, that's why I spent years learning my craft and working to get published. So I could do this as a job. I even write fanfic on the side as a hobby, and that is VERY different to writing publishable novels for my editor - I get to do all the fun stuff with none of the WORK that my writing job requires.
I don't love being told what setting/theme is 'hot right now' and needs to be in my next novel. Or re-reading my book for the 15th time to look for typos, or spending 4-5 hours every morning writing to meet a crunch deadline and the rest of the day brainstorming the new idea which is due in a week, answering emails and editing. It's my job, not a hobby, and it's not all fun, all the time. No one page edits for the LOVE of it.
'If buying isn't owning, then piracy isn't stealing' - Unlike films/tv, books are still available as physical media you can own forever. They're also less likely to vanish from your ereader because they aren't licenced like a tv show.
'I don't want to support a horrible person but I still want the book' - so...you agree that pirating does nothing for the author? Good. Because that 'spreading awareness stuff' we already covered, is bullshit. But if they're so terrible...why do you want to read something that was invented in their brain, and is likely full of their terrible values/dog whistles? Why not find new authors to support instead of hate reading/continuing to absorb content from people you fundamentally dislike?
Lastly, the argument I routinely see is that 'it's just the same as lending a copy to a friend'. It is not. Firstly because you're putting money into the pockets of those who stole our work, via ad-rev on their sites, whereas lending a book to a friend doesn't result in you making money off of someone else's work. But also, lending the book to ONE person is not the same as making it available to EVERYONE. I just filed a copyright takedown on one of my new books which already had 200+ hits. Unless you plan to lend a physical book to 200+ people, you will not do that same amount of damage as piracy.
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pastafossa · 11 months
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Preview of Angsty In-Progress TRT What If fic
Right so there won't be a chapter cause I'm still in Covid Brain Fog Town, Population: Me which is affecting my writing (I've gotten a bit written but it's slow going). But I have found time to edit that sad thing I'd been working on BEFORE getting sick and I'm planning to release that because I think it works as a really good illustration of just what the stakes are in TRT if they get this wrong. AKA: a what-if, in which all their preparations fail and Jane is taken (spawned by an ask in my box that's been chewing at my brain for months now).
This will be a really dark and angsty side-fic, and the ending won't be happy per se, although I'm planning to give a little hope at the end since I'm not a COMPLETE monster, but I don't expect everyone to read it regardless and am designing it so there's no need to if you'd prefer to stick to TRT canon. BUT if you DO want to read something like this, here's a preview of the first section.
Warnings for: angst (obviously), blood, reference to shock collars.
Preview wordcount: around 1k
Putting this behind a cut.
Sad Matt gif cause this part's from his POV and it will not be fun.
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There should have been a fight. 
That had always been the plan, an unspoken agreement the moment you’d decided to stay. You’d all known the Man in the White Coat, Cyrus James, would come to town eventually. It was an inevitability, a reality, and it was one you’d prepared for. Slowly, you’d gathered in your allies, armor composed of S.H.I.E.L.D., of the Ferryman, of the Punisher and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and even Spider-Man, had you asked. There’d been plans and backup plans, alarm systems and fail safes. And just in case that still wasn’t enough, you and Matt had taken to practicing, over and over and over again, all the ways you could signal him should your hunter slip through the cracks. 
It was foolproof. 
It should have been foolproof. That was what you’d all believed. 
You were all wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.
This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. 
There was no battle. 
It’s my fault. 
No war along the familiar streets that had become your home. 
I should have sensed him. 
There’d been no signal given. No warning, no alarm that rang out, not when you were walking home after a late case. 
Caught alone in the dark.
Where are you, sweetheart? Please, just give me something, anything—
You didn’t even have time to scream, they said.
Not physically, anyway.
He’d felt your fear before on occasion, when you reached for him psychically. Then, your presence felt like the frantic bite of your nails in his skin, tasted like the sharp tang of cold sweat and burning adrenaline, sounded like the stuttered racing of your heart, a drumbeat in his ears that never failed to set his own heart racing as he cast his senses out, hunting for threat-threat-threat and for those that dared to harm you. He’d felt your fear when you woke in the quiet dark of the apartment, and when you’d been trapped beneath the warehouse in a cruel, dusty cell. He’d felt it, too, that night Frank had chased after you. 
He thought he’d known the flavor of your fear. 
But those moments were nothing compared to the moment your deepest, darkest fear became… real. 
The deafening psychic scream that tore through the thread with all the force of a hurricane was like nothing he’d felt before, or ever would again. That storm was all-consuming, the world around him gone in a heartbeat as the sudden wave brought him to his knees, his mouth shocked open on a silent shout. He could barely breathe through that terrified tide, one cold as bitter ice, your panicked heartbeat less a drumbeat than a constant roar in his ears as your panic rolled through him. This was the tremor of muscle and blind, animalistic instinct, the last, desperate sprint of a doomed hare just before the hawk’s talons cinched shut against the back of its neck.
This wasn’t fear. That was too small a word.
It was sheer, absolute terror. 
And in that terror, you managed only a single word. 
“Matt, h—”
You never got a chance to finish. Instead, he was struck by a blinding surge of electricity, white-hot coils of lightning snaking around his throat before locking tight. That shock raced outwards from there, traveling along lines of hidden nerves and thick muscle until his whole body locked up in agony. It was impossible to writhe, to thrash, to fight. All he could do was scream, mindless and furious, your terror matched only by his surge of rage, rage that covered his own wave of terror. Because he knew. He knew, distantly, what this was, and what this meant. 
The collar. 
Just as quickly as it came, the connection was gone, leaving him with nothing but the steady drip of blood from his nose and a ringing in his ears.
He wanted to retch, his stomach roiling, but there was no time. 
It can’t end like this. 
The directional signal he’d gotten from you was worthless. Even when he found where you’d been snatched off the street, they’d left him nothing but droplets of your blood and a fading snatch of cigarette smoke, a poor cover for the faint chemical scent lingering in the alley. Tranquilizers, he’d learn later, meant to knock you out, make you tame enough to be bound, collared, and forced into the back of a van. From there, your scent vanished into the night. 
Caught. Collared. 
Taken.
There was supposed to be more time. 
More time for him in your arms and you in his. 
More quiet touches in the early morning, and laughter in the kitchen, at Fogwell’s, on warm rooftops and cold ones, too. 
Time for him to slip a ring on your finger, and for his name to twine with yours, joyful tears in both your eyes as he pressed his lips to yours on the day you finally became his wife, the keeper of his soul, and he the keeper of yours, for all the rest of your days.
Why hadn’t he asked you?
He should have asked you.
Our rocking chairs should be red, you’d said sleepily last night, when we’re old. 
He should have been faster. 
Stronger. 
Smarter.
“All this, all this that we have here, that you love, is at risk. It always is when I stop. He takes this from me every time, Matt."
He should have protected you. 
He’d promised you he’d keep you safe. 
“No one will take you. I won’t let them, no matter what I have to do to stop them. What happened before—you didn’t have me. I’ll hear him coming from a mile away. We’ll be prepared for him."
“Ciro promised me the same thing. And he was wrong.”
He’d… promised. 
“I promise. I’ll find them before they even get close.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, D.”
And he’d failed.
The Devil’s roar of anguish, of grief, and of absolute agony shook the very bones of the city. 
By that point, you were too far away to hear it. 
It would be seven months before he found you again.
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