#though I think I'd need to rewrite the whole thing before I even continued it
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I wanna write a Rosie Alastor fic but I have zero ideas 😭
#like I feel like they'd have something very dialogue heavy#which is kinda my absolute weak point with writing#I just never have ideas for it. I prefer to write out scenes and actions#I do admire those writers that have the wittiest in character dialogue#but ugh I just wanna write them having a little tea party or something#which just isn't enough for me to work with#rave ramblees#perhaps I should think up some ideas#and go back to writing for cutthroat#or REALLY go back to my roots and continue that fucking danvid fic I abandoned#though I think I'd need to rewrite the whole thing before I even continued it#and then I'd get tired and abandon the rewrite too :/#I wanna write smut but it's like I'm incapable of not cringing while writing it now#and I used to write the most vile horrors with no shame#but now if I say penis I wanna kill myself#smut used to be my bread and butter what has become of me 😩
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Hi! It's me again :) btw can I be your -💀anon?
You don't have to put a tag or anything but it's just so when I send asks you know it's me (^-^)/
Btw loved the headcanons you made
Could you please do some but this time it's a bit silly like I have this plot in mind :
Skele walks on s/o cutting their hair but with kitchen scissors and then like making it better with a derma shaver (I saw a video on tiktok of someone doing that and it just was funny to me lol)
What would the skele do and think? It'd be funny if some if them are a bit confused since they don't have hair
Again no worries if you don't take the ask ! Have a good day/night and be safe :)
of course you can be 💀 <3
(imma just do the skelebros from the last req bc i love them)
(also the amount of times ive wanted to do the exact same thing)
UnderTale, UnderFell, and UnderSwap skelebros walk in on their s/o cutting their hair
UnderTale:
Sans:
-"whatcha doin', y/n?"
-you look at him through the mirror while you continue cutting your hair.
-"oh, nothing! just wanted a little bit of a change. by the way, could you make sure im getting it even in the back?"
-he does.
-other than that, he just... watches.
-not creepily, or whatever.
-he's kind of quiet the whole time.
-when you finish, you do a little twirl to show your haircut
-"good job, kiddo"
-goes to take a nap
-as long as you're happy, he's okay.
Papyrus:
-"human! what is it you are-" his jaw dropped.
-literally. it fell on the floor.
"ARE THOSE MY SCISSORS??"
-that was his biggest concern. was having to wash the scissors. he uses those to cook! he needs them clean!!
-he gives you the silent treatment after
-for about 20 minutes. what can he say? he missed you!
UnderFell:
Red:
-he was just walking by the bathroom and looked caught a glance of you, scissors in hand, hair in clumps on the floor.
-he thinks it's a fighting thing. to keep monsters from being able to pull it.
-kind of surprised when you said that no, you just thought it'd be fun.
-he's weirded out, kind of. he thought you liked your hair?
-but oh well. as long as he doesn't have to be the one cleaning up the bathroom.
Edge:
-he definitely has the strongest reaction of all of the skelebros.
-he LOVES your hair.
-when you said you just felt like cutting it, he STORMED out of the house.
-he went through extreme grief.
-he didn't tall to you much for the next week or so.
-least supportive, most dramatic. that's for sure.
UnderSwap:
Blue:
-he is SO excited.
-he thinks you'll look great!
-asks if he can help you
-wonders if you'll dye it, too? blue! it'a his favorite color, to go with his favorite human.
-the exact opposite of SOMEONE *cough cough* Edge
-he is the MOST supportive
Honey:
-"hey, y/n, have you seen- oh!"
-it's certainly a surprise, but a welcome one, indeed.
-hangs around in there, just watching what you're doing.
-how are you so good? have you done this before?
-he thinks you look pretty damn good, though
sorry some of these are short ;-;
also idk if you meant just trimming? like i started writing these thinking 'oh! anon meant like long hair and going short! great!' because that's where it is from my (long haired) perspective. if that isn't what you meant i'd be happy to rewrite them x
#undertale#undertale x reader#sans#sans x reader#papyrus#papyrus x reader#underfell#underfell x reader#underfell sans#underfell sans x reader#underfell papyrus#underfell papyrus x reader#underswap#underswap x reader#underswap sans#underswap papyrus#underswap sans x reader#underswap papyrus x reader
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Two things.
1. If you were to rewrite Gabriel's redemption arch, how would you do it? Just curious.
2. Thinking about it, a good way to neutralize Hawk Moth/Shadow Moth (before he ever stole all the miraculouses from Marinette) would be getting rid of his voice by using the power of the miraculous of the roaster, (to get the power to steal his voice), silencing him forever would make him unable to manipulate anyone, would make him unable to akumatize anyone, because he needs to convince them, and for that, he needs to speak to his victims, and for him to do that, he needs his voice.
He wouldn't be unable to command Nooro, he wouldn't be able to transform, being unable to speak, he wouldn't be able to use a miraculous altogether.
Because to use a miraculous, you need to give your Kwami orders, you need to speak, you need a voice. It would serve as a one punishment, and you basically make him harmless!
Maybe he could try get around this rule, or ask Nathalie to continue his work, but at this point, would she be even interested? It could even serve as an oportunity to force him into changing and getting over Emilie.
And it would be so funny, watch a character who clearly loves to listen to himself, forced into eternal silence.
I suppose I'd show Gabriel as actually being a decent parent to Adrien, obviously cut out "Cat Blanc" and "Ephemeral", and have his redemption end with him in prison like the end of the movie.
That would honestly be a very fitting punishment for Gabriel, though the show would probably use the whole "tHe RoOsTeR cAn'T gRaNt WiShEs" crap to veto that.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#monarch
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Hey bro, I'm back. Cosplay with the bulk and mask is doing great! People are eating that uniqueness! Problem though, I'm a bit too nerdy for their tastes. They didn't like my gaming posts. Think you can add in my history that I'm a big jock too? I need the experience. I don't mind my brain shrinking.
Continuation of:
A rewriting of your history huh... Let's see where you last left you off.
Yea... unfortunately someone as big and bulky as you just doesn't fit gaming NERD. Sure you got the bod of a lifetime but not a single change in your personality let alone your past. Subby furries been asking you for fun in DM's but you're still as shy before so you have to turn them and they think you're homophobic! You've been going to the gym to maintain your new body and got yourself some gymbro friends but unlike them you've never participated in sports in your life so you have to nod and smile when they start talking football. Your social media presence is all sorts of wack too with your fans demanding to post thirst traps and flexing pics but you just keep posting gaming clips since you don't want to make your only thing on the online world being a beefy meathead that only cares about their bod. It was all piling up and wish you could just change your past to fit the body you wished for...
Well that's where I come in and help you once more! You hear a knock on your home door and you went to check who was there. No one was there but you saw something on the ground so you opened the door to find a strange device and a note on the ground.
Hey Dude!
Heard the beef life was getting hard with no change of memories or life so I thought I'd help out. What you see is a Reality Augmentation Device! Just say what you want and reality will change to suit your desires.
It's one use only so no going back!
Choose wisely,
-Tf4life
Reality Augmentation Device? You'd think I was crazy if I didn't give you the bod you currently possess so you trusted my judgement.
The device was a sphere shape and had a screen for soundwaves and a singular button. Looks like you press the button, say what you want and reality will change. So much power in such a small device. Well with a bit of hesitancy you press the button and say your wish.
"I wish my life would fit my body" And then you let go of the button. Immediately after you let go the device warped itself out of reality and you suddenly passed out. Your past would now change.
The changes begin in middle school. Instead of staying reserved and quiet you LOVED to act out much to the dismay of your teachers. You adored sports, especially football which ended up with you on your middle school football team as the star player. You eventually got a ton of friends that were just like you. You were known as the school troublemakers and sports buffs. You didn't learn a damn thing the whole time you were there.
Come High School you continued this attitude fully becoming a typical jock with the friends to match. This is when you began to work out almost every single day leading to that hot bod of yours. Your bros were your everything... your... everything. You realized you were gay. Any who you of course joined your High School Football team and once again was the star player. The whole school loved you for constantly bringing home trophies. Your grades took an even bigger decline than what was even possible. You were already a major meathead with the only thoughts being sports workout and hanging out with bros. It's a miracle you didn't get expelled but the fame and trophies was what allowed you to stay. You graduated with multiple sports related schools BEGGING to have you and despite that meathead brain of yours you eventually picked a college to attend.
College was more about working out than actually attending classes. When you did attend classes it was an excuse to be the meathead jock to ever meathead jock. Luckily this was a sports college so all that mattered was your ability on the field. You still had your craft in football and landed your college football team multiple trophies and eventually graduating with a "Degree in Jock" the person who handed you the degree at graduation joked. Which might I add you were completely shirtless during graduation? Yeah.
Brimming with jock confidence you got tattoos on your arms and started posting your workout journey onto social media and to say people were interested would be an understatement. Thirst trap comments would pour in on every single post just look at the ones with this selfie!
"Big~~"
"You're so lovely~"
"Daddyyyyy"
"I want you"
These were a common occurrence and you loved all of it. You were able to stay in contact with your gymbros even after school and hung out almost every single day pumping iron with the bros. Talking about sports was a nonissue as you knew every single football term under the sun. You will willing to help your bros if they had a hard time lifting something.
"Just like that bro..." You whisper to him.
And there's still more! Hanging out with gymbros means bouncing those meat mounds with your gymbros.
And maybe a flex or two...
And that leads back to the new present. Despite all the changes to your past there was still one thing that stayed. Your love of masks. You would sometimes wear your wolf bone mask and black balaclava to workouts and your bros found it very amusing.
Those same subby furries that wanted a strong werewolf to dominate them you were too shy to reply to in your old past was now in your bed being fucked silly by you in a wolfmask. Safe to say your entire social media presence WAS being a meathead jock and you owned it.
"Video games? Never heard of it. I got GAINMES right here" You said to one your gymbros once at the gym with a flex.
With all that in mind and your past altered you woke up from your impromptu nap wondering why you were on the ground in front of your house. The meathead jock in you just brushed it off before you remembered something.
"Oh right, gotta go work out with my bros!" Immediately running back inside to get ready to workout like you have been for multiple years.
You loved working out with your bros they were your everything to you and you couldn't be happier. The shy nerdy you was long gone and your life finally fit your body. And to make sure of that you posted another post-workout selfie to your social medias.
" Gains 💪💪💪💪"
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How would you modify GS to work better, ideally changing the fewest major elements?
If I really had to do this then...
Other than just straight-up making it into the ryona hentai part of it clearly wants to be, I would probably focus on making the people in the setting actually behave as if they are living in a dark and gritty world, with more awareness of what the threats are and how to survive them.
So goblins would no longer be an overlooked danger that no one even thinks to prepare for, and every legit professional adventuring party would have some basic knowledge and preparation before they go and endanger their lives for money. As it is, many of the characters treat the world like it's basically a video game even though it's allegedly common for goblins to routinely eliminate whole villages.
The other thing is making the goblins more nuanced and fixing their frankly nonsensical reproductive situation. We are told that since they are all-male they need to capture non-goblin women to reproduce, and that their inherent sadism is such that these women rarely live more than 2 weeks after capture. Even granting that apparently they can produce multiple goblins a week each, the math of this is really weird when you think about it, especially considering how short their lifespans seem to be.
Such a parasitic life cycle obviously requires continuous atrocities inflicted on the nearest population center, which obviously isn't going to just let it happen. Unless new goblin nests just spawn out of the ether it seems really odd for them to just pop up over and over again all over the place considering how extreme their needs are.
The simplest way to resolve this is to just make goblins into a more intelligent and productive species that doesn't have its fertility limited in such a way. They can still commit all kinds of terrible atrocities but less so as an inherent part of their biology and more as part of a very long and very bitter conflict kept alive by cycles of revenge and fear affecting both sides.
The violent and genocidal actions and intentions of the "heroes" would be reframed into something more disturbing, not actually that different from the massacres caused by the goblins. The story kinda bends over backwards to justify why killing every single goblin without exception is always the correct thing to do, because they canonically are all evil rapists who will just backstab you and cause mass death if shown mercy. I think it would be more interesting if this was not the case and you had to actually engage with the morality of what is going on.
As it is, there is basically no line Goblin Slayer is not justified in crossing because the writer really seems to want him to be not just correct but the most correct person in the world. Some more self-reflection would be more interesting, especially as he realizes that the goblins in the rewrite are not actually universally evil rapists (though that idea could certainly be used as war propaganda from his side).
People have replied to the earlier post noting that the story as it exists really comes off like someone who really wants to write a really racist metaphor about immigrants, and even that reads like fascist propaganda. Given that the story is about the overlooked need to genocide an always-evil race of subhuman rapists who are incapable of true intellectual achievement I don't think they're wrong to see it that way.
Ultimately, I don't really think the core story of Goblin Slayer is really worth the effort of a major rewrite. I'd rather make a more original setting with an emphasis on undead instead.
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News on Haunted: Series and AU Content!
First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my lack of content in the last few months. I'd love to say that I have a valid reason, but the truth is that I have been going through writer's block and have been genuinely struggling to write anything that I find acceptable enough to be published.
That being said, thank you for your continued support for this series that was originally just a little self-insert dream of mine that I would think of to fall asleep at night. It means the world to me to still see new notes and followers because of this series, even though I have been neglecting it.
Now, onto the good stuff... or perhaps not, I guess we'll see.
Because Haunted originally started out as a little self-insert dream, I did not have plans for the whole of the series. In truth, it was just something I was doing to sate my own appetite for drama within The Bloodline plus my love of Kevin Owens. But, with the popularity the series has gotten, I felt overwhelmed at my lack of planning for the series as a whole, and I think that may have something to do with my lack of being happy with my writing.
So, I have decided to rewrite the chapters of Haunted that have already been published to make them beefier and more planned out. While I still am not sure of the whole of the series, I have more concrete plans than I ever did before. And, believe me, I know well that this might be a controversial thing to do, but this is the only way that I can be happy with my product - which is important to me.
In terms of an update on chapters, I have already fully completed the first two chapters - and I am half-way through the third. To be blunt, I am already over 10k words, which is a huge improvement since the first three whole chapters combined in my original writing sits at a mere 5k words. I am still unsure of how I want to release the chapters and when (whether it is a bulk thing when I am finished with all of the rewrites or slowly over a few weeks), but hopefully I will come to a decision on that soon.
As for the AU content, I also plan on rewriting those, though they are less of a priority. To be honest, that is likely what I will be working on when I need a break from rewriting the main chapters, so I cannot say for certain when those will come out.
Anyways, I think I have rambled on for more than enough time. Again, I thank you all for the continued support - and if you have any questions or comments, please feel free!
#haunted: discussion#danielle talks#wwe#kevin owens#sami zayn#the usos#jey uso#roman reigns#jimmy uso#solo sikoa#kevin owens imagine#kevin owens x reader#solo sikoa imagine#solo sikoa x reader#the bloodline
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Another update on the status of my writing.
Again, not a new chapter, and again, first and foremost, More than a Mask is not being abandoned, I am still writing it.
...
But I do wanna explain where the hiatus is coming from.
So, when I last updated, I knew I wouldn't likely be putting out another chapter a week or two later. But I didn't think it would be this long. Several things came together to kinda throw my writing schedule off.
First, I wound up getting surgery, and during recovery, I wasn't in a state to write.
Second, as you all probably know from my notes, I write a few chapters ahead. Which meant the next chapter was technically done, but I was withholding publishing until the next next chapter was done. I do this for a few reasons, I like to keep ahead of the curve with chapters, and it also helps me make continuity edits if I need to make sure something is going to be relevant a chapter later.
But, I realized there were a lot of issues with the next chapter. It was long, and even with that, I was putting a lot of important story events into what was effectively a timeskip summary of a week or two.
So, I wound up taking the time to break that chapter into two, and turn the events that would've happened over the timeskip, the fairly important story events that deserved focus, into... well, that. Into scenes that will fully play out.
But that meant effectively rewriting the chapter. Twice. And then accounting for any changes that would make later down the line.
That's the step I'm on now, I'm almost done rewriting the second of the two chapters next chapter became, after which I will need to make sure everything still lines up with... the following chapter. God this got confusing with me leaving out chapter numbers.
But even with all that, this has been really slow for me, and the reason for that is probably the most important factor in this whole scenario.
When I entered this fandom, I knew very little about the voice acting cast for it. In the past few months, though, one thing of note has crossed my attention.
Hailee Steinfeld, Gwen's VA from the Spiderverse movies, has a history of supporting the Israeli Occupation Force, something that to the extent of my knowledge she hasn't rescinded.
It should go without saying that this is disgusting. Israel has been occupying, oppressing, and committing a genocide against the Palestinian people for nearly eighty years now.
Now, frankly, this topic deserves a level of focus that certainly doesn't fit into an explanation on why a fanfiction hasn't updated for a while. I'm bringing it up here, mostly, to make it clear that I disavow her and don't stand by anyone who supports genocide.
While I'm not abandoning the fic, this has definitely shattered my momentum, and I only feel comfortable continuing to write More Than A Mask because she isn't the sole VA for Gwen, she didn't start the character, she doesn't define the character, and honestly my preferred version of Gwen would be textually trans and voiced by a trans woman anyways.
So updates will be slow, and it still might be a bit before the hiatus ends.
And, more importantly, if you aren't educated on what's happening in Palestine, please take the time to research, and then lend what support you can to the Palestinian people going through unimaginable hardship. There are some wonderful people on tumblr who can verify which donation funds actually make it to Palestine and make a difference.
And if you don't have any money to spare, I'd like to recommend Arab.org. There's a button you can click there daily to raise money for Palestine, the money raised comes from ad revenue meaning you don't need a cent to be able to help.
#i know this is long and i know i don't have a lot of followers#but i'd at least like to provide an explanation as to why the hiatus has been as long as it has#there's a lot of important things to talk about regarding Palestine#but frankly i'm a white american. if you're reading this post i'd rather you seek out Palestinian voices and listen to them#than to focus on my take
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So I've been spending my time making JJ and Pope collage image/backgrounds because they are a real thing, and it was not coerced into being what it is. Because it just WAS. From the start. Think otherwise? Please. Do me a favor, pull up season one's very first episode, and just watch the first five minutes. Afterwards, come back here and try explaining to me how that ain't G A Y? 'Cause...I see absolutely no reasoning of it. I thought I'd share one but also I wanted to reach out because I am genuinely struggling with the fact that Pate is giving the toxic divide of JJ and Kiara to those who have attacked, still attack, and will continue to attack Rudy, Madison, and their girls but because of the amount of backlash that's being given over this very real issue, and how Rudy and Madison are so clearly feeling that they need to take extra-extra precaution to the length that they aren't even comfortable to stand together for even a group photo? Be in the same interview, that he's not going to be able to just ignore that and, ultimately, will decide it's best to not explore the duo furthering out in season four and so forth. In which this be the case, he would have to undo the whole couple thing entirely (if they become official before the end of season three? which honestly realistically I couldn't see cause he said something about it being a slowburn, so? A slowburn to me is a couple seasons. Not eight episodes, and by the tenth, they're together-together....
So, it'd be an easy rewrite, overwrite, whatever-write to make if this is so. The question just is:
WILL HE OR WON'T HE?
Is there anyone out there with their own opinion on this? Do you think he'd continue to force it, or would he cut the idea entirely for the sake of the actors, and the actors REAL lives? Because as much as I want and keep thinking he might, I also know how freakin' selfish and greedy douchebags like him can be. Frankly, it's giving me high school throwback vibes, bad. Like triggering me bad. The fact that it's not being addressed, but is currently being condoned(the bullying will increase by the release of season three, so that's still condoning it should he overlook this)----just takes me back to the days I was bullied. And how those bullies never dealt with consequences. But instead repeatedly given a pass. Most of the time these kids were the highest grade student, football athlete, bitchy cheerleader leader, the one who played teacher's pet just to come across as a decent, wonderful human being. And that hurts. It hurts me, because I know what it's like to be attacked. To be told to kill yourself, your ugly, waste of space and knowing that Elaine and Moriah are getting these very words and way worse in the downfall disgusts the hell out of me. I will not be watching season three solely because of this. I can't. Because I know it's just going to add fuel to gasoline and it's nauseating to simply know what's to come. Let alone what's already coming after it's out there.
THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I SHIP JJ AND POPE.
I swear to god, if someone comes on here claiming I'm just being a petty fan...don't, okay? Just don't.
Because that's not what it is! I can handle it if JJ and Pope aren't going to be the show's "official" endgame. That's the point of fiction, y'all. Don't like the ending? Remake it into your own.
This is BECAUSE people are being bullied in the process of all of this, and more or less rewarded by the show giving them exactly what they were bullying for. This is because it sends the WRONG message. To people. How people should treat other people. How to act and expect to get what you ask even though they don't deserve it. And that's not okay, okay? I would LOVE for there to be actual representation in the show (what is this? a series from the sixties?) if there actually isn't...so be it. Put JJ with another girl, if you must. Why must he be with a n y o n e, though? HE'S A DAMN KID AND NOT EVERY STORY IS GOING TO END IN A LOVER'S TALE. Why is it that every character has to be involved with somebody, if just one main is? Uhm, I'm sorry but that's just not how the world works? How many friend groups are out there where one starts dating, and then a year later the second finds a possible interest, and the third one gets in a relationship three months after that first year, only for that second to also be head over heels for his now definite love interest? LIKE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME. Is this an actual friend group experience, or? Why not, maybe just...focus on the platonic friendships you started with? Instead of this whole circle of friends dating friends, friends dating eachother, friends falling in love and living happily ever after as one whole unit? This is a big reason why I don't get into shows much, anymore. The writers always, ALWAYS, gravitate more towards the whole lovers aspect, and like...maybe it's just me but I would kind of love for a series to be centered on a group of friends who are only ever just friends----feelings for none of eachother----and that relationship aside from the rest of the storyline and then gradually add that shit in. Space it out. Don't push it all at once. THAT'S NOT HOW LIFE WORKS. If it was, why would there be so many single, lonely people out there!? It'd be nice to see something like that (sitcoms dont particularly count here) or just a show where the main characters end up with characters OUTSIDE of the original group of characters and all they ever are is friends. Family.
I won't be bitter, nor will I attack anyone to make a point, and feel justified when I get exactly what they shouldn't of. Trust me, in an alternate universe, where JJPope shippers are the cruel ones, I would be just as against the idea as I am JJ and Kiara.
Maybe because I'm human, I guess? Personally I would be too disgusted to know that even if I wasn't part of it, those who were are getting what you hoped for just as much as they did, but in such opposite extremes? It would of ruined my love for them entirely.
This is entirely coming from the bullying issue. Everybody says it's not tolerated. Yet. Do you see a damn one doing a damn thing about it!? A damn thing that tells these people that it's not right?
I needed to vent. Sorry y'all.
Anyone else out there who is also hopeful but just as doubtful, too?
#jjmaybank#popeheyward#jjpope#jjxpope#mayward#otp: for once in your life trust someone else ( j j p o p e )#jjpopeedit#obx#obx3#anti jiara#antibullying#when will it stop#stopignoringit#alonglongrant
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More Than Anything
Requested by: @lottievieira27
Summary: You moved over to London from your home in Brazil to get sports physiotherapy experience with Chelsea FC. Your visit made permanent when you meet your now boyfriend, Kepa Arrizabalaga. After living there for two years, you decide it's time to go back home and see your family for Christmas. And this time, Kepa comes with you.
Based at Christmas 2021
Notes: This whole request was completely deleted from my drafts for some reason. The anguish I went through whilst rewriting half of this was insane, so I'm sorry if there are mistakes and typos or the writing is sloppy.
"Kep?" I call out as I see my boyfriend walk past the living room door.
"Yes, mi amor?" he replies, taking a few steps back and popping his head around the doorframe.
"So, you know how I'm going back to Brazil for Christmas," he nods his head, "well, I was thinking-"
"Oh, that's a dangerous thing," Kepa replies with a smirk, I glare at him, feigning offence.
"Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Would you want to come with me and meet my family?" Kepa's face lights up.
"Really!? Yeah! Of course I'll to come with you!"
So, that's how, a month later, we were both on a plane, on our way to Rio. My head was rested his shoulder and his head on mine. We were both woken up by the bumps of the runway and my excitement only intensified. Both excited to see my family again, and to introduce them to my boyfriend.
The entire walk to my parents was spent with my hand tightly intertwined with Kepa's. The cold causing us to huddle together as we walk for warmth. Kepa and I had been together for just over a year now. We'd met at Chelsea, where I was getting work experience for sports physiotherapy and at his first session with me, we had completely hit it off. I was decently close with all of the Chelsea team, but me and him, we just had that extra bit of chemistry. That better connection. So when Covid had hit and the country went into lockdown, we'd agreed to live together so neither of us were alone. And within three months, things just slotted into place. It had all been in the public eye from quite early on. Kepa is quite territorial, wanting everyone to know I was his, though he knew it didn't stop the lingering looks from guys at parties. The press and Chelsea fans didn't originally agree with our relationship, claiming it to be unprofessional having a player and a physiotherapist together from the same team. Tuchel had no problem with it though, so we continued. After a few months the press and fans had changed their mind on our relationship, enjoying how open we were about being together and loving all the cutesy content they would receive.
I had met Kepa's family in the Christmas of 2020 and I loved every second of my time spent over in Spain. His mum and I had gotten on very well, her telling me as we cooked dinner one night that she thought I was 'the best thing that had ever happened to her son'. We had never talked about it directly, but of course I knew about the split held had from his long-term girlfriend of the time. She had told me how hard it had been for him and how much I'd helped him get his confidence back. Though, I know he'd done that all by himself, he just needed that little bit of a push.
Knock. Knock. Knock. The door had flung open almost immediately and I was greeted by both of my parents. My mum pulled me into a tight hug, as did my dad when she pulled away. After the greetings between myself and my parents, I began to introduce Kepa who was stood just out of sight.
"Mãe, pai, I have someone I'd like you to meet," I say as Kepa moves to stand by my side, "This is Kepa, my boyfriend," I finish with a sense of pride, smiling up at him. My face changes very quickly as he starts to speak Portugese.
"Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois*," I stand there with a look of confusion, brows furrowed and nose scrunched up a little bit. He shakes my father's hand. My Mum is smiling widely, I always knew she would like Kepa, but I also knew that my Dad would need more convincing.
"É um prazer conhecê-lo também, nós ouvimos tudo sobre você" he replies.
"Yeah, I haven't quite got that far yet," Kepa laughs back as my mum pulls him into a hug, kissing both of his cheeks in greeting. After the initial introduction, we're invited in, engulfed by the warmth of the house.
"So, the most expensive goalkeeper in the world, eh?" My dad questions as we talk about Kepa's football career.
"Yes sir, but unfortunately I've been on the bench for a while, I had a bit of a knockback, but I'm getting better. And it's all because of your daughter," he replies, smiling fondly at me.
"I've not done anything really, it was all you, I've just been there to support you,"
"Yeah, and that's what I've needed, and you gave me it without second thought,"
After a few hours of talking, it was starting to get late and everyone was starting to get hungry.
"Y/N/N, can you come and help me prepare some food?" my Mum asks and of course I comply. Within maybe ten minutes, I have Kepa stood behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to my lips occasionally. My mum gushes over it all as we continue to cook.
"Kep, babe, why don't you go back into the living room, have a beer with my Dad or something, talk about football?" He pouts a little bit, not wanting to leave my side, but does eventually go back into the other room, reluctantly.
"Your dad really likes him, you know?" My mum says with a smile, "So do I, he clearly loves you a lot." I smile at the ground almost shyly.
"He's good for you, and by the sounds of it, you're good for him. We've seen all the stuff the press has said. And The Sun, oh they just love to rip into your relationship even a year later, and you've stayed strong through it all. You're meant for one another. And me and your dad know that we aren't going to see you all the time anymore because you've found him, but we also understand that you've grown up and you leaving Brazil permanently to be with him, it is going to be one of the best decisions you'll ever make. He makes you so happy, and we can see that in the way you look at each other. He adores you."
After dinner, we had moved back into the living room, Kepa still sucking up and telling both me and my mum how delicious the food had been. I'd tried telling him how much my family already loved him, but his aim to please was too high. When we had sat back down, I cuddled up to my boyfriend on one of the couches, sat opposite my parents. Him and my dad were in deep conversation about his time at Chelsea, his life back in Spain, just making an effort to get to know each other, my Mum occasionally getting involved. My eyes started to get heavy, so I just let them slowly close. I don't know how long I had been asleep for, but when I woke back up, my head had been moved to Kepa's lap and his fingers ran softly through my hair. I hadn't opened my eyes yet, catching onto the current conversation going on whilst they thought I was asleep.
"Do you love her?" My Dad asks. And without missing a beat, Kepa replies.
"Mais do que nada*,"
*Ei, é muito bom finalmente conhecer vocês dois = Hey, it's nice to finally meet you both.
*Mais do que nada =
More than anything.
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This isn't really a confession, I've been wanting to get this off my chest for the longest time and I think this is the best place to do so; I really liked Whiskey in the first half of the movie but when he showed that he wanted to kill all substance (ab)users my heart shattered. I know Pedro himself would never think that way of anyone but I still couldn't and still struggle to look at Whiskey. One of my parents abused alcohol, one of my siblings abused coke, an uncle abused heavier drugs, I myself am recently out of rehab for meth and coke abuse so do you get what I mean? I never asked for family tragedies and poverty nor did I pull the trigger on his wife in the context of the movie. It just shatters me completely, especially when NOBODY seems to be talking about this. At least not that I've seen. Everyone's on about how sad Whiskey's life has been and yes what happened is awful, but as a recently sober individual (who was struggling to STAY in rehab and not relapse when the movie came out) I absolutely HATE that nobody talks about this. At least in the fics I've seen in my attempts to not panic every time I see Whiskey, nobody seems to write his s/o as sharing his logic. Also sir alcohol is just as bad as most drugs even if it's legal wha-
I just wish someone would write a fic where Whiskey's s/o calls him out on his bullshit plan or better yet, reveals their blue veins to him because they're struggling with demons that they can't beat alone and they use drugs to shut them up for a brief moment in the night when they can't sleep. He needs therapy not only bc of his dead wife but also because trying to commit mass murder against people who (ab)use drugs is fucked up.
I was extremely happy when the fucker got minced to death even though he's a Pedro character. I didn't lose friends and family to drugs and alcohol because I wanted to nor did I kill them with my own hands.
Sorry for the heavy ass topic, I just felt like I'd burst if I didn't say anything and I don't want to make a public post and get harassed by the portion of Pedro fans who are unfortunately rather ignorant. Btw I'm an afro-latin trans guy and will try to save money for hormonal treatment and possibly surgery later on, so hey to all fellow poc and trans fans who feel alone here😭
I'm obviously not gonna publish this as a confession because it's fucking important. You're right! And you're completely valid for being uncomfortable regarding his character! The beliefs he expresses in the movie are fucked up! And deeply flawed! Before the admission of the whole situation with his wife, he does also mention something about Statesman stock prices skyrocketing, which is insane to me, too, because Wow how groundbreaking you're continuing to profit off of human suffering way to go
Anyway. It's easy for fic writers (like myself!) to take his character and change his story to get rid of all of that, but it definitely doesn't change to the effect of the movie canon on people who watched it. I think no one wants to talk about it because it makes them uncomfortable. Why? Either because they agree with him and don't want to say it because they know that it won't go over well, or they know he's wrong and would rather ignore that part of his character or write it out altogether than accept that maybe he's just a shitty person. (Granted, the nice thing about fiction is that no one's gonna get punished for rewriting a character, but I still think this is an important conversation to have.)
I'm not an addict, and I'm lucky enough to have grown up in a family where substance abuse and alcoholism was never a problem (while I was conscious, anyway, my grandpa is a recovered alcoholic but hasn't been drinking for decades & he doesn't talk about it much), so I don't really have an opinion on how this all effects people because it... doesn't really effect me, personally. Nonetheless it frustrates me that society treats addiction (or even just using certain drugs recreationally) as a moral issue when it isn't.
Anyway, I'm proud of you for getting the help you needed! And thank you for sharing this. I know for some people it's not the easiest topic to talk about. (also trans high five my dude)
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So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰
Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅
Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉
Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊
AO3
Ashes from the Deep
Part II
__
It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.
Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.
So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.
With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.
Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.
Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.
Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.
After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?
Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.
Or so everybody else kept saying.
With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.
A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.
Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.
Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.
The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.
She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.
Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'
His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.
She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'
His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.
A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.
It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.
The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.
The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.
Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.
Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.
And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.
They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.
It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.
No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.
Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.
She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.
But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?
She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.
Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.
Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.
No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.
No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.
Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -
There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.
Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.
She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'
Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.
She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'
Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?
'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?
His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'
His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.
'You want to wash my hair?'
His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?
And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?
A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?
No, she didn't want to know.
So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'
He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.
'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?
She leashed her arms.
What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?
His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.
Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'
His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.
And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.
So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.
The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter.
'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.
Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.
As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.
He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.
Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.
He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.
Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.
Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.
After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.
This was - what was this?
She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.
She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.
Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.
He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.
'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.
___
Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊
If anyone wants to know what the datura flowers look like, CTTO:
@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17
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For the ask meme: The Conspirator's Gift
3, 19, 25
(Also: this got me into Cadfael!)
OH AWESOME! I'm so thrilled to have lured you into my fave comfy mystery series! <3 So: The Conspirator's Gift - my incredibly niche X-Men fusion AU.
3. Any deleted scenes that didn't make it into the fic?
This fucker is over 80k words, does it LOOK like I deleted anything? 🤣In all honesty, though, I don't tend to delete entire scenes once I've written them -- it happens, but it's VERY rare -- mostly because I edit so continuously as I write that I rarely get to a point where a scene needs to be excised wholesale. It just gets reworked. For this fic, the biggest edit I made was swapping an entire character out of the story and replacing her. Moira, in this fic, started out as Rogue (with Moira in a very minor role as her maidservent). I was well over 10k into writing it when I realized that her character just wasn't working the way I wanted, and the subplot of her hiding her own mutation was going to needlessly complicate an already twisty plot (originally, the climactic fight scene was going to end up in Rogue's hands, quite literally). Fortunately, that character had only made a couple of appearances at that point, so it wasn't too difficult to rewrite those scenes, but it did involve a serious tonal shift -- Rogue was a teenager terrified of her own powers, so changing her to be the much more mature, level-headed, nonpowered Moira did make a significant difference. But I think the story worked better for it in the end. It places the responsibility for the villain's downfall squarely on Erik, who is in fact our primary POV character, rather than the Deus Ex Machina of a relatively minor secondary character swooping in at the last minute. (Hilariously, though, the entire reason I chose Remy LeBeau as a central character was due to the Rogue/Gambit comicsverse relationship. But by then I'd worked the whole plot around him, so he stayed.)
19. Did you make any major changes to your fic compared to your original idea?
LOL I answered the last question before reading this one! So, uh, yes, yes I did. I'm still sorry to have lost Rogue as a character, I do love her. That was the only significant change I made while in progress. Um, originally I think I had Sean (Banshee) as the villain, too, because I was trying to stick with XMFC characters, but he just didn't suit the role, he was nixed before I started actually writing anything. Armando's role grew significantly over the course of the fic, to the point where I went back and added in scenes with him earlier on. And while it wasn't a change, exactly, I didn't decide what would happen with Hank/Raven until pretty close to the end of writing it -- there was a good chance he could have ridden off into the sunset with her in the end.
25. Favorite thing about the fic - this is your permission to brag!
Look, writing this fic singlehandedly dragged me out of a 3-year fannish hiatus and I genuinely love it to bits even if only a handful of folks read it. Because when you haven't written anything beyond a handful of short Yuletide fics in three years, you really wanna dive back in with an 80k epic. But seriously, this is one of my favorite fics I've written, it was an enormously fun jigsaw puzzle to combine the X-Men characters with the Cadfael setting/plot, and I'm super happy with how it all turned out. In a very nerdy way, my single favorite thing about the fic is that in 80k words of ensemble cast and multiple POVs, Charles Xavier -- the secondary lead and half of the main damn pairing -- only gets one POV scene in the entire fucking fic, and it's right near the end (the climactic villain reveal). Hard to sustain a mystery when your POV character is a telepath, is what I'm saying. He possesses way too much info to be allowed to narrate. ;)
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hold out. (jj maybank)
here it is, the second part to hypersonic missiles ! the response to the first part was absolutely amazing, the support & love in this fandom is incredible & i just wanna say a huge thank you to all of you that take the time to like, reblog & comment, every single one means so much !! gotta admit im not loving this as in it's not my best work and kinda all over the place & half way through writing this i almost scrapped the whole thing to rewrite the full series with an oc bc writing as the reader was starting to get to me lol. but alas here it is & as always i hope u enjoy x
warning: swearing, drug use, underage drinking, violence etc
summary: after accidentally inserting herself into a treasure hunt with four teenagers, one of which could be considered her 'friend with benefits', y/n grubbs is left to deal with the complications and misfortunes that come along with it - including her ever-growing feelings for said 'friend with benefits'.
( gif isn't mine! please let me know if it's yours so i can credit you. )
If someone had told you a week before that you would lose your father, get your house raided by two men you had never seen before in your life, make friends with a group of teenagers, embark on a two hundred year old treasure hunt with said teenagers, and be hanging out with JJ Maybank every day and willingly, all in the space of one week; you'd have laughed in their face, asked them what drugs they were on and could you have some, and then laugh in their face again.
But alas, there you were. You still couldn't quite believe it, especially the JJ part. You'd had worries at first, like would the gang really want you involved, did they secretly hate having you around, were they just being nice and letting you in on this because your dad had died? All the doubts swirled in your mind, running around like clock-work, just ticking away constantly in the back of your head. Surprisingly, JJ had been the one you'd gone to about them.
"I just feel guilty," you'd said. It was after a day of riding around in John B's boat and using fancy hotels' WiFi, and 'borrowing' a drone from JJ's dads old workplace. His eyebrows furrowed when he looked at you, confused. "I mean, you guys have been friends for like, forever. And then I just show up and you conveniently find out about John B's dad and the treasure hunt on the same day when I'm there, and it's just like - I don't belong with you guys, it's your thing and I'm just kinda, here."
"You're part of this just as much as we all are," he'd told you, matter of fact. His body was angled to face you as you sat outside John B's self-proclaimed Chateau, a freshly rolled blunt being passed back and forth between the pair of you. "You need to stop doubting yourself, man. You're apart of us now."
The words had warmed your heart, an instant smile being spread on your lips as you looked at him through red-rimmed eyes. Underneath the setting sun, he looked almost angelic; his golden hair blowing in the slight breeze, tanned skin exposed due to the heat. You had pretended not to notice the tense of the muscles in his arms whenever your fingers brushed when you passed the juul between yourselves.
"You're too kind to me, Maybank," you'd grinned, boot-clad foot nudging his knee gently. "If I didn't know you so well I'd have thought you'd have ulterior motives."
"Who says I haven't?" He'd smirked back. You'd just smiled, teeth biting down on the plump skin of your bottom lip before you'd looked away from his burning gaze and focused your attention on anything, anywhere but JJ fucking Maybank.
You got along with the gang amazingly, you couldn't doubt that. Pope was the smartest guy you'd met, sweet and funny and passionate and so certain of what he wanted to do in life. Kiara, or Kie, as you'd come to call her, was very environmentally involved, almost too cool for the guys, you thought. She cared so much about so many things, and she had a great taste in music too. John B was a bit like you, you supposed. Fatherless, on the hunt for answers, things like that - but other than that he was a great guy, the makeshift leader of the little group, a little lost in life, but that was to be understood.
And then there was JJ. You felt most comfortable around the blonde, but that was kinda a given too, due to the fact you'd seen each other in your most vulnerable states that came with having sex rather regularly, something the other members of the gang didn't share. He was a spit-fire, always ready to throw a punch and fire threats at those who deserved it, head-strong and stubborn. But he was more so caring, God he cared so much for his friends, you'd discovered. He would do just about anything for them, whatever position that put him in. JJ put the gang before himself, always. You'd noticed all different types of things about JJ especially, little things you had never taken the time to notice before.
These little discoveries probably came from watching him too much, you'd thought one night. It was a bit of a problem, though you never mentioned it. The unspoken rule amongst the group was No Pogue on Pogue Macking, which basically meant everyone was off limits to each other. You understood the rule, Kie having been the only girl before you'd arrived on the scene amongst three guys, and after becoming apart of the gang you had no choice but to respect it - which also meant that JJ was off limits. But was he technically off limits when you'd already been there, so far past the line on macking with each other?
There was some sort of agreement between the two of you, that in order to make this work; your friendship with the Pogues, the hunt for the Merchant's treasure, that nothing could happen. You'd spoken briefly about it that first day, outside the lighthouse beside the Twinkie (John B's van, you'd learned had a nickname), we're cool, right? Pretend we haven't seen each other naked, conversation. It had been cut short, but it still happened. And the pair of you never mentioned it after that, a few off-handed comments here and there from JJ, but nothing specific. So you assumed yours and JJ's hook ups were off the table, and you had no idea why that had come to bother you so damn much.
On the day following your talk with JJ on John B's porch, he'd invited you to come along with him and Pope as they delivered groceries for Pope's dad, Heyward. You had almost said no, because really, you could probably do with a break from the Maybank boy, all the time spent with him was doing no favours for your little situation of Fighting Attraction While Hunting For Gold. That's what you were putting it down to in your mind anyway, too much time spent with the person you're sleeping with can begin to mess with anyone's head, and hey, maybe it was the fact that you were grieving and JJ was familiar - but you couldn't be doing with all these thoughts anymore.
Despite the angel on your shoulder urging you to turn his offer down, you'd said yes. But that was little to do with JJ and more to do with your mom and your current home situation, which was unbearable, to say the least. Your mother was barely speaking to you, as if she was scared of letting something slip if she did. In return, you shut her out, too. Told her lame excuses and empty lies when you were heading out with the gang, lying through your teeth when she'd asked where you were or where you were going.
Lana Grubbs wasn't a stupid woman, though, and you knew she knew you were up to something. But she hadn't mentioned anything outright yet, and so you hadn't said anything either. The hole your father had left was huge and gaping, evident in both your lives. You hadn't spoken about it yet, and you weren't intending to until she could be completely honest with you. You didn't want to hear anymore lies, and you were already on the path to discovering the full truth. On your own.
Her words echoed in your mind every time you left the house, voice small and gentle as she never failed to say the same thing. "Just be careful." You'd always look over your shoulder, and she'd never look back at you. She hadn't looked at you much at all since your dad had died.
It was after a certain drop-off of groceries, you'd joined JJ in his delivery whilst Pope had docked the boat and gone off to deliver his own, yours and JJ's strides matching as you walked the seemingly never-ending drive of the abnormally large house that loomed over you. The Kook part of the island never ceased to intimidate you, no matter how much you didn't want it to. There was something about it, the people that lived amongst it, that unsettled you whenever you entered it. Figure Eight wasn't somewhere you usually visited other than an odd job you'd picked up, and you were reminded why of that fact as you walked alongside JJ.
"Just think," he breathed, all starry eyed and parted lips as he gazed around the pair of you. "This could all be ours soon."
You snorted, bumping his side with your own. "Don't be melodramatic, JJ,"
"I'm serious!" JJ protested. His sea blue eyes caught yours when he turned his head to look at you head-on. The intensity of his stare almost made you stop in your spot, but you managed to carry on, gulping when his eyes continued to hold yours. "I'm sticking to my earlier statement, right, we're going to move here, and out-rich all these fuckin' Kooks."
"Out-rich?" You raised an eyebrow, lips quirking. "Your grammar is so adequate, Maybank."
"It's a word," JJ insisted, nudging your side with the point of his elbow. "Who the fuck uses words like adequate these days, anyway? I don't even think Mrs. Humphrey knows what that word means."
You laughed at the mention of your shared English teacher, the grey-haired, short, spectacle wearing woman immediately entering your mind. JJ grinned when he heard your laugh, dimples winking in his cheeks.
"Mrs. Humphrey can't even spell Wednesday," you giggled, JJ chuckling along with you as he nodded. "It's a wonder how that woman has been working there for like, eighteen years or something."
Your steps faltered as you neared the door to the house, pace slowing as you both basked in the time spent with each other, though neither of you would admit it. "She was probably a good teacher at first," JJ said thoughtfully, shuffling the groceries in his hands. (You tried not to notice the way his arms looked when he did that, muscles clenching and on full show with his cut-off tank.) "I bet each year another brain cell of hers just like, dies."
"Wouldn't surprise me," you nodded. "Mine would attempting to teach classes full of teenagers," rather dramatically, you shuddered. "Especially if one of those teenagers was JJ Maybank."
"Hey!" JJ shouted, though his grin proved that he found your jab amusing. You laughed along with him, bumping his side once more as you finally landed at the door, watching as he turned to you, expression trying to be serious and failing, rather horribly. "You better watch yourself, Grubbs. I'm serious here, I can be a pretty scary guy if need be, y'know."
You didn't doubt that, of course. You'd seen JJ in action with your own two eyes, you knew what he was capable of. But somehow, stood with you there, on the doorstep of some filthy rich Kook's mansion, groceries in hand, blonde hair shining golden in the sun, sun-kissed skin exposed to your wandering eyes, grin on pink lips; you couldn't imagine JJ Maybank hurting a fly.
"Trust me, I know." You'd said just as he knocked on the door, shooting you one last toothy grin before the door was opened and he was pulled into a conversation with the woman who'd answered it, talking about all things from the weather to the next semester at school. You watched him all the while, smile growing on your lips without your knowledge as you took him in, seemingly in his element as he sweet-talked the middle-aged woman inside the house. When he turned to you suddenly, you startled, broken from your thoughts and caught red-handed staring at him like some freak. He grinned, tongue wetting his pink lips at the same time you internally groaned.
"I was just saying, the groceries," he trailed off as he pointed to the bags in your hands in which you'd forgotten were even there. You let out an 'oh' as you quickly passed the groceries over to the waiting woman, shooting her an apologetic smile as she looked at you knowingly. JJ nodded his head in your direction, speaking once more to the woman, "New guys, huh?"
You glared at him as the woman laughed, perfectly manicured hand reaching beside her and grabbing hold of her purse, pulling a note out with her slender fingers. She held the note out to JJ, who immediately tried to turn it down, insisting there was no need, but the woman was unrelenting - sending a pointed look your way as she told him, "For your troubles, sweetie."
JJ picked the note from her hands, a gracious smile being sent to her as he nodded. "It's been a long day," he sighed heavily and your jaw almost dropped as you resisted the urge to reach out and slap his arm. What a fucker. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Ramirez. I really appreciate it."
The woman, Mrs. Ramirez, as you learned, nodded and waved a hand. "No bother, sweetie," she told him before turning her eyes back to you. You forced a smile as she simply eyed you up and down, before sending an obviously forced one of her own. "And thank you." She said curtly, and you were ready to give her a piece of your mind before JJ was grabbing your arm and dragging you in the direction of where you'd come from, shouting one last thank you over his shoulder as he walked you back towards the boat.
It was when you were a safe distance away that you shook your arm from his hold only to slap him gently on his own as you glowered, glare smouldering as he laughed, throwing his head back as he stumbled beside you.
"You're such an ass," you huffed as you tried to ignore his chuckling, speeding your steps. "I mean, she literally just tipped you a hundred dollars for showing up and smiling, I'm sure if I had a third leg down there I would have got the same treatment too."
"Are you jealous?" JJ asked, having to jog slightly to keep up your hurried pace. His smile was huge and infectious, and you made a point not to meet his stare when he landed next to you in fear of breaking your fake annoyed stance. "Maybe if you weren't too busy checking me out then you could have talked to her, and y'know, make a small fortune yourself."
You scoffed, whirling around and halting him in place. He almost stumbled into you, and you stepped back when his hands landed on your arms to steady himself, shaking his grip off almost immediately. "I wasn't checking you out," you told him, matter of fact.
JJ grinned and ran a hand through his hair as he replied, "Sure you were," he shrugged. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared, biting down on your tongue as you resisted your own smile as he motioned to his body from head to toe. "Not that I can blame you, I mean look at me."
"I've looked, JJ," your voice was low when you said it, a knowing tone to your words. "I've looked, and I've seen it all, in case you forgot."
A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "How could I ever forget?" He asked rhetorically, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as you tried not to follow the action with your eyes, and failed, miserably. "Trust me, that image is forever dented in my brain. I think of it, sometimes. Just randomly."
You rolled your eyes. And he's back, _you thought. _He never left, a voice at the back of your head piped up. You ignored them both. "C'mon," you said, already turning on your heel and starting off in the direction of where Pope had docked the boat. "Let's go get these deliveries finished."
The pair of you said nothing more for the rest of the duration of the short walk back, and when the boat was in your sights JJ was off running, more than likely eager to show off his one hundred dollar tip to Pope, as you idled, watching his back as he ran. When you finally landed in the boat, it was silent. You immediately picked up on the tension, heavy in the small space, and shot JJ a confused glance when he looked back at you.
Slowly, you made your way towards where the two boys were up at the front of the boat, Pope situated at the wheel. The dark skinned boy was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either yours or JJ's eyes. When you looked to the latter, he subtly shrugged a shoulder, letting you know that he had no clue himself what was going on with his best friend.
"Pope?" You questioned softly. "What's wrong?" When there was no answer, you shared another glance with JJ, his concern shining in his blue eyes. You tilted your head as you went to ask him again, but when you did, your eyes caught on to the colour crimson that was slowly streaming down the side of his face. You gasped and JJ startled, chest bumping your shoulder as he tugged the cap from Pope's head, revealing the injury near the top of his head.
"Jesus!" JJ exclaimed when he caught sight of the wound, Pope swatting at his hands that held his hat, pulling it back down once JJ had let go. "What happened?"
"Rafe and Topper jumped me," Pope's voice was slightly wobbly as he informed you both, a tear sliding down his cheek as he recounted, "They said no Pogues on their side of the island."
Your blood began to boil just as JJ demanded, "What are you gonna do?" His own jaw clenched in anger as he looked at his best friend, beaten and bruised in front of him from the hands of some entitled selfish pricks that thought they were better than everyone because they had more money in their pockets. Rafe Cameron was a name that never failed to make you queasy at just the mention of it, and his little gang of followers including Topper Thorton were just as unbearable.
"I have something in mind." Pope spoke, voice and stance determined. And something he did, as he drove to Topper's new boat - and promptly swam over and removed the plug from it, causing the new model to sink into the water as you and JJ watched from Heyward's boat, keeping an eye out for anyone that may have spotted your trio.
And though it was bad, and you knew you probably shouldn't have taken part in such an activity, nor prompted Pope to either; you couldn't deny the rush it gave you as you watched Topper Thorton's boat begin to sink, and maybe it was the fact that you knew that Topper was a Grade A Asshole and deserved it, or maybe it was Pope's own unsure but excitable adrenaline that mixed with your own, or maybe it was just the fact that JJ wrapped his arm around your shoulder without a care in the world as he shouted his support to his friend, squeezing you to his side almost unknowingly, like it was some kind of instinct.
You thought, yeah, it probably was, as you immediately felt the loss of it when he moved to grab Pope in a hug. And then you thought, well shit.
There was a mutual share of disappointment when the gang had found just about absolutely nothing when you'd taken Pope's fathers boat out the next morning, drone ready and in hand to go hunt for the gold, where John B Routledge had marked down on the map it having been.
Granted, the Royal Merchant was there. It was just missing the one thing they were after - the gold was nowhere in sight, and the journey had been a complete waste of time. You thought it to be too good to be true, of course it had to be. Four hundred million in gold and you were expected to find it? There was no way, you thought bitterly as JJ steered the gang back to land, not one of you daring to speak as the disappointment crashed over you all in huge waves.
You'd departed with the guys not long after that, after promising Kie that you would accompany her to the annual summer movie night, making your way towards home. The bitter frustration ate away at your insides, you were mad, angry - fucking infuriated, each step the gang got closer to finding the gold, it was as if someone was stood in your path and shoving you all back another ten.
Had your dad really died for this? This seemingly never-ending hunt for promised gold that, for all you knew, could be complete and utter bullshit. You didn't understand it at first, when the pieces began to slot together, but it was like every time the chase got harder it made you want it even more; and then you understood your fathers fascination and Big John Routledge's obsession. This gold meant everything to you and the gang, and you knew, John B especially, would never give up on this chase.
"Hey, sweetheart," your mother called when you entered the house. The front door was still broken, only the screen in place, and was leaning against the wall as you maneuvered past it. Lana was sat at the couch, and when you walked in she'd shoved a box away from her, the lid laying haphazardly over the top. "I wasn't expecting you home so early."
You shot her a small and forced smile, shuffling your bag from your shoulder and onto the floor, landing with a soft thud. "Hey mom," you greeted back, noting her teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "What're you doing?"
When you arrived at the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder, you immediately recognised the box - Family Photos! _written atop _the cardboard.
"I was just looking through some old pictures," she told you, sniffling as she attempted to smile at you. "Just wanted to see his face again."
You nodded, your throat tightening at the mention of your dad. Reaching a hand up and wiping away her tears, she looked at you questioning, "Where have you been?"
"Just out," you said, bluntly and unconvincing. "Doing a few jobs here and there, y'know. Nothing exciting."
Lana hummed, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Mr. Phelps told me that he seen you with that Maybank kid the other day," she informed, your face falling for a millisecond as her words sunk in. She looked at you, tear-stained face and serious gaze, lips pulled to a thin line. "I told you to stay from those guys, Y/N."
"I was helping him deliver groceries, mom," you deadpanned - which wasn't exactly a lie, if that's when Mr. Phelps had spotted you. Most of your time spent with the gang was mainly off the land and away from prying eyes, whether that be on a boat or the Chateau, so you knew that was the safest bet of when you'd been spotted. "For Heyward's. It's not like I'm hanging out with him on purpose."
Lie, lie, lie. It was becoming alarmingly easy to lie straight through your teeth, and to your mother nonetheless, but you couldn't dare tell her anything, and why should you, when she hadn't told you anything? It took two to Tango, you thought.
"I just don't want you getting hurt," your mother reminded, and you let out a sigh as you nodded, faked closed-mouth smile on your lips. "I'm serious, Y/N, please just be careful out there."
"Always am," you promised (bull-fucking-shit). You turned on your heel, heading towards your room as you called over your shoulder, "I got invited out tonight, by the way. To the movie thing on the North Side. Is it alright if I go, please?"
You waited at your door, hearing your mother sigh from the couch. "Yes, you can go." You smiled, this one more real than all the rest, and thanked her gently. She didn't look back at you though, and the familiar unspoken tension was back with vengeance. You couldn't wait to get out of it.
The movie night was a welcome distraction from your frustrations with the treasure hunt, the haunting memories of your dad, and the tension with your mom. It was only you, Kie, Pope and JJ that attended - John B having seemingly disappeared for the day, none of the gang having heard from him. You'd managed to leave the house with relatively no questioning from your mom, and met JJ a little way down the block.
("Woah, keep two feet away from me please," you'd joked, halting in your tracks as you spotted him standing there. He'd furrowed his brows at you, frown etched on his face. "My cover's been blown, everyone knows about us!
He just looked even more confused, eyes squinting down at you as you raised a hand and layed it across your forehead dramatically. "What'd you mean?" He questioned, eyes darting around, seemingly searching for answers in the air around you both. "What, do people know we sleep together or something?"
You'd rolled your eyes, shoving him gently when you were close enough, beginning to walk away. "No, you doof," you chuckled. "Mr. Phelps ratted me out to my mom, told her that he saw us together the other day. I had to tell her that we were just delivering groceries for Pope's dad."
"Ah," JJ nodded, shooting you a mischievous grin. "We better go into hiding then, I'm thinking... log cabin in the mountains, all fur sheets and deer heads on the walls, ooh a hot tub too."
You laughed, "Trying to whisk me away there, Maybank?"
You were joking, but his eyes were surprisingly serious as he looked at you. "Always, Grubbs.")
The field was already packed full of people by the time the four of you arrived, groups of people scattered around, idle chatter filling the air. It was being held on the Kook side of the island, and your eyes swooped over the people, most of them being Kook's themselves, expensive clothing and an aura that just screamed, I'm better than you. It made you feel uneasy, but you tried not to think about it as Kiara led you through the crowds.
"I'm so glad they're still doing this," she tells you all, sighing happily. The faces of the guys revealed they were not nearly as happy to be there as she was, while you were simply just glad to be out of your house once again. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to normal, OBX life, y'know?" She stopped once she found a decent spot, turning to the three of you. "Aren't you guys glad I made you come?"
"Ecstatic." Pope deadpanned, sarcastic lull to his tone.
"My couch was pretty comfy." JJ piped up.
"I'm just happy to be out the house, I guess." You said.
You were aware why the guys were so uncertain about being there; it wasn't so long ago that Pope was sinking Topper Thorton's boat, you and JJ accompanying, and now you were all on his side of the island. Not only that, but you knew that if Topper was to discover that it was Pope who'd done his boat in, it wouldn't just be Topper that confronted him - it would be the full Happy Days Gang. Nothing was ever a fair game when it came to Kooks.
Kiara excused herself to go buy soda's from the conession stand, and you shifted as you seated yourself on the blanket you'd bought, having opted out of bringing a chair. You sat in front of JJ, his legs touching your back.
"What's wrong with you guys?" You turned your head when Pope and JJ began to whisper, the former's panicked eyes landing on you as you frowned at the pair.
"Topper and Rafe are on my ass," Pope revealed. "They know I sunk Topper's boat."
You sighed heavily, muttering a shit as JJ grabbed his friend by the arm, focusing his attention towards him. "They can't prove it, okay. Just deny, deny, deny."
Pope nodded along, muttering along with him as you watched the pair, before your eyes moved to Kie that arrived back, her eyes narrowing as she seated herself beside Pope. "Just saw Rafe," she informed, your blood running cold. You could practically feel JJ tense from behind you. "He said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy we know what he did'. What is that?"
"Um, where is he?" JJ questioned, his tone of voice revealing his hidden anxiety.
"Right there." Kiara nodded her head, right in the direction of where Rafe Cameron and his goons sat, as you, Pope and JJ whipped around, Pope practically turning his full body in their direction. You groaned as JJ desperately urged him to turn back round, and away from their taunting eyes.
"The whole death squad!" Pope exclaimed, anxiety riding off of him in waves.
"Don't stare, bro," JJ urged, hand wrapping around Pope's shoulders. You tuned out the rest of the blonde's words as he informed you all that he'd be coming out swinging if they were to corner him, and you felt dread build as you heard his last words. "If that doesn't work, I got this right here." He patted his bag.
"JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here," Kie practically begged. "JJ, there are kids!"
You focused your attention straight ahead of you as the guys continued to argue; Pope simply telling Kie that it might go down to her line of questioning, her brown eyes darting back and forth between you all. You refused to meet her eyes, however, and were glad when the large screen ahead of you suddenly lit up. "Oh, look," you exclaimed, laughing nervously. "The movie's starting."
And it was left at that - JJ whispering deny, deny, deny to Pope once more before you all turned your attention to the screen, trying to block out the intruding thoughts of having the knowledge that the gang of Kooks were staring you down, awaiting your next move like a predator would its pray.
All was going fine - the movie was good, everyone's attention on the black and white screen. You tried not to think about Rafe and Topper, or the gold or your dad, and definitely not the feel of JJ's legs either side of you, trapping you into his hold. You let yourself believe that everything would be okay, and then Pope had revealed he needed a piss, and everything had gone to shit.
JJ had accompanied him, and the two had set off behind the screen, hidden away from Rafe's watchful eyes. They hadn't done a good enough job to be discreet though, and you immediately took notice of Rafe, Topper and Kelce making their way towards the opposite side of the screen. You swore, catching Kie's attention as she questioned, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Looks like that piss break just got a lot more complicated," you said, and realisation dawned on her face. It didn't take the pair of you long to locate the guys, all in various forms of fighting, as you and Kie screamed at them to stop. You grabbed Rafe's arm mid-swing, his fist raised and ready to send a hit to JJ's face from where Kelce had hold of him. "Stop it, you dick!"
You let out a scream as you were sent flying back from his shove, Rafe's blue eyes wild and crazed as he glared down at you. "Stay out of this, Grubbs!" He barked, and without a moments hesitation sent a fist hurling towards JJ's cheek.
Kiara had jumped on Topper's back from the small distance away from you, and you took a moment to ready yourself before hurtling towards Rafe from your crouched position, tackling him to the ground from his knees, effectively stopping his blows. He seemed stunned for a second, staring dazed up at you before he promptly threw you off of him, shoving you to the ground without a care. "Don't fucking touch me," he growled down at you, and you groaned slightly as the wind was knocked from you.
You heard JJ from somewhere above you, shouting insults at Rafe and repeating your name over and over. You lifted yourself from the ground just as Topper puts Pope in a headlock, his tight grip causing the dark skinned boys breath to leave him in choked gasps. You shoved at Rafe's back once more, sending him stumbling forward before he whipped around, hand reaching out and grabbing you by the face, tugging you so you stood nose-to-nose with him.
"I said," he ground out darkly, eyes boring into yours. "Don't fucking touch me."
You were beginning to fear what would come next before a sudden glow caught your eye from the side, the movie screen lighting up in harsh flames. Rafe dropped you, your hands moving to rub over the imprint he'd left, as you looked towards where Kie stood, JJ lighter in hand. Screams of terror echoed from the other side, as people began to flee, and it didn't take long for the three Kooks on your side to follow, sprinting quickly from the scene. Fucking cowards, you thought.
JJ's hands were on you before you could even blink, eyes earnest and worried as they looked over you, your cheeks red from the earlier grip Rafe had on you. "You good?" He asked you, slightly out of breath. You nodded, repeating the question to him. He smiled lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."
The night had ended promptly there, Kie dropping you off at your respected houses. You'd bid them all a good night, and as quietly as possible made your way into your home, not wanting your mother to see the marks imprinted on your face from Rafe's fingers. Luckily, she'd already been in bed, and it didn't take long for you to crawl into yours, thoughts of the day and a certain blonde running through your mind.
The next morning you'd met the gang (save for John B, who was still seemingly missing) at the Heyward's store; your morning had been spent desperately trying to hide the red marks that Rafe's fingers had left from your mom before she could notice and ground you in your room for the rest of your life. It had a been a success for the most part, and she asked no questions as you left the house, though you took note of her uncertain expression as you bid your goodbyes.
"Have you heard from John B?" You asked Kiara who was working closest to you. You had realised the brunette boy was missing from the group upon your arrival, and you couldn't help the worries in your mind at where he could be or what could have happened to him.
"No, nothing. Have you?" She returned the question, brown eyes meeting yours as you shook your head no, a short sigh falling from her lips. "Neither have the guys. What're you thinking?" Kiara eyed you, gaze suddenly sullen. "Do you think something's happened?"
"I don't know, Kie," you told her because honestly, you didn't. John B had a target on his back, that much was for sure. Son of Big John, once owner of the proclaimed death compass. Your mind thought back to the two men that had raised your home, and chased the guys on more than one occasion, and you couldn't help but think the worst. "I'm sure he's fine, though."
Kiara nodded, though she looked anything but sure. "Yeah, you're probably right." The pair of you continued on with your respected work, JJ's and Pope's voice trailing from somewhere in the store as they talked. "You're working Midsummers, right?"
You groaned, nodding. Kiara laughed at your sour expression. "Oh yeah, second year running. To be honest, I'm surprised they let me work it after last year, my customer service must be better than my right hand hook," you joked, chuckle escaping your lips as you thought back to the Midsummer's party the year before. Your dad had gotten you the gig, because he was a weasel like that - always talking people into getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was the gas bill to be paid, and his face just didn't fit the portfolio to be serving Kook's their drinks at their fancy party, and so it had left left to you to do just that.
The night had ended with Dean Kipp on his ass after his hand had fallen on your ass, and you'd been let off with a warning as the guy clutched his bloody nose and called you everything ranging from psycho bitch to slutty pogue. Your surprise was immense when you were offered a job again this year, and a large amount of the reason you'd said yes was just so you could see the look on his face when he saw you.
"He totally deserved that," Kiara remarked, grinning. You smiled back, the pair of you sharing a laugh as you returned to your work.
For a second, you let your worries wash away as you were pulled into a conversation with the gang, your spirts high for the first time in a while. You were happy, you realised. What had started off as being the worst period of your life was slowly turning into the best, the gang and treasure hunt a blessing in disguise. The four of you shared laughs and joked back and forth as you worked, and you found yourself to be perfectly content.
All that came crashing down when Pope's father entered the shop, police officer trailing behind him. "Hey, Pope! There's someone here to see you."
You stopped dead-on, the rest of the gang halting in their movements as you all stared towards the officer you recognised as Shoupe. "Evening, officer." Pope greeted, gulping.
"I have an arrear warrant for felony destruction of property," Deputy Shoupe approached your group, handing the said warrant to Pope's dad. From beside you, JJ tensed, and when you turned to look at him, his blue eyes glanced down at you, freshly beaten face pulled into an anxious grimace as his jaw clenched. Shoupe had gotten remarkably closer, hands reaching for the handcuffs placed on his belt. "Hands where I can see 'em."
Pope glanced desperately towards JJ, who shook his head quickly, his words, though unspoken, clear as day. Deny, deny, deny. But denying wasn't going to get Pope out of handcuffs, you decided as you stepped forward, tone pleading as you demanded, "Stop, you can't just do this!"
"Out of my way please, Miss Grubbs," Shoupe dismissed you, sounding almost bored as he shoved past you, beginning to handcuff Pope who can do nothing but allow it to happen, his anxious eyes focusing on one spot as reality began to sink in.
"What did he do, Shoupe?" Mr. Heyward questioned in disbelief, watching as his son was getting arrested in front of his very eyes.
"Take a look at the warrant," the cop said simply as he begun to tug Pope out of the store.
It was chaos. Everyone was shouting, demanding answers and hurling insults. JJ is screaming something about somebody paying him, Kiara is in your ear asking what the hell was going on, Mr. Heyward is hurtling questions towards both his son and Shoupe. Passbyers stared at the scene, whispering to each other as they walked by or stopped to watch. Everything blurred together, and you could do nothing but watch the scene unfold in front of you.
Those fucking assholes, you thought. Topper Thorton came to mind, tan skin and bleached ends, million dollar smile and designer clothes. You remembered his wild gaze as he held Pope in a headlock the night before, close to almost killing him. And yet he was off somewhere doing god knows what, probably shopping for a new boat to replace the one he'd lost, not that he probably cared all that much about it in the first place. Rafe Cameron's eyes entered your mind next, and you felt a shudder run through you as you remembered them boring into yours as he held your face frighteningly tight and close to his own.
JJ's voice was suddenly breaking through your stream of thoughts - "It wasn't him!" He was calling out, eyes directed on Shoupe who paused and turned toward him, Pope's face disbelieving from behind him. "It was me."
It sunk in then what JJ was trying to do, and you whirled around from his left, quickly shaking your head as you muttered, "JJ." He ignored you however, and stepped forward towards where the officer was standing, Pope still in his arms.
"He tried to talk me out of it," JJ continued. "But I was mad because he had just been beaten up, I was sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He was stood directly in front of Shoupe, almost boot-to-boot. You couldn't see his face from where you were, and you were almost thankful for the fact as you heard him direct his words to Pope, "I can't let you take the fall for what I did. You've got too much to lose."
"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope demanded. His face was confused, just as much in shock as the rest of you. For a second, his eyes leave JJ's and land on yours, a shaky breath leaving your lips as his eyes were practically pleading.
"I'm telling the truth, for once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth," JJ announced loudly. "I took his old man's boat, too."
"What the hell?" Mr. Heyward questioned, though nobody paid him any mind. Your gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene of JJ Maybank taking the fall for something he most definitely do, and you could do nothing but watch it happen.
Your heart finally shattered when JJ's last words entered your ears, "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."
He only looked back once as he was put into the handcuffs that previously held Pope, and that wasn't until he was shoved in the back of the police car and the door was slammed behind him. You walked closer towards it, hand on Pope's back as he watched his best friend get arrested for something he'd done, and you both knew it. When JJ glanced up and out of the window, bruised face clear behind the glass, his sea blue eyes caught yours and then he smiled.
The fucker.
You could only watch helplessly as the police car was driven away and out of sight, Pope throwing his cap down in a fit of anger as he stormed off, his dad calling after him, Kie landing to your right. The dark haired girl wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to her side gently.
"JJ'll be alright," she told you, voice confident though her face read anything but as she glanced in the direction the car had been driven off. "He always is."
But what, a voice in the back in your head nagged at you, if this time he wasn't?
And then it dawned on you: you actually really, generally, sincerely and whole-heartedly cared about JJ Maybank.
(And the thought scared you more than you would ever like to admit.)
& to the lovely people that asked to be tagged in this, love you all x @ponyboys-sunsets @mysticsthinking @danicarosaline
#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank imagine#jj one shot#jj x reader#jj x you#jj maybank x y/n#jj x y/n#jj maybank#jj outer banks#jj imagine#obx jj#jj obx imagine#jj obx#obx imagine#obx fic#outer banks imagine#outer banks x you#outer banks x reader#outer banks#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#pope heyward#kiara carrera#john b routledge#rafe cameron#topper thornton#sarah cameron
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Had a not great day today, so here's some sad Kadolin which I wrote to help me feel stuff.
So I've done something like this before when I wrote "An Expert in Just About Everything" - that is reworking a scene from the books with different characters. ROW SPOILERS AHEAD.
This time around, as soon as I read Chapter 12 of of Rhythm of War, I knew I wanted to do a rewrite of the scene with the roles reversed. While I love Kadolin's dynamic, I'm personally not a huge fan of writing Shallan off because I also love her individually, and her and Adolin's relationship. With that in mind, the premise of the following scene is that Shallan is deep undercover, and Adolin believes (incorrectly) that she is dead. I think this could make for some very interesting conversations down the road. In my mind, it would be less about the typical drama, and more about "okay, how do we make this work". Maybe if writing this inspires me I'll continue the narrative.
For maximum effect, I'd recommend reading Chapter 12 of Rhythm of War first (and maybe Chapter 21), and hopefully you can pick up on the parallels.
Anyways, here it goes ROW SPOILERS AHEAD:
She's gone. Adolin felt dim, unreal, like he was hovering between realms. Is this how you feel? he wondered to Maya. Unfortunately, Maya could not answer for him, and Adolin just felt lost. Adolin stiffly moved towards his rooms, the rooms he used to share with his wife, and turned and closed the door with a firm push.
Only then did he break. He didn't make it to the chair or the bed. He sank down with his back to the wall beside the door. He tried to unbutton his well tailored jacket - storms why did he always need clothing that fit so snug? His fingers fumbled at the ornate buttons, but found no purchase. He tried to gasp, his chest and abdomen straining against his suddenly restrictive clothing. His entire body seemed to tremble as agonyspren twisted in an out, twisted faces carved from stone, mocking him in his loneliness.
Come on. You've known loss before. You got through losing your mother. You can do this. Adolin sobbed, and grabbed a scarf to muffle the sound. Why couldn't he pull himself together, like he had back then? The answer was obvious. When his mother had died, and his father had abandoned them for drink. There was no choice but to keep things together for Renarin's sake. He had been the only one looking out for his brilliant little brother. Now, Renarin was well and living his own life, and Adolin was just . . .
Alone.
He'd always hated that word. All his life Adolin strove to surround himself in people - it didn't matter of they were common soldiers, lordly courtiers, or girlfriends, so long as they were there, with him, taking up space beside him. But to seek the comfort of company now felt wrong, like a betrayal to the person whose absence he wanted to fill more than anything.
A knock came at his door. Adolin bit down hard on his scarf. Please just go away. The knock became more insistent. Adolin tried to catch his breath, and glanced at a nearby mirror. Come on, he told himself, Present yourself. He sniffed three times and fanned his face, banishing the tears from his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair a couple of times, until it settled into its familiar pattern of calculated dishevelment. As he stood, he straightened his shirt and jacket, each motion of tidying his appearance soothing him a little more. You can get through this.
The knocking continued. "Coming," Adolin said, unable to keep his unsteadiness from his voice.
Kaladin pushed his way in, Syl at his shoulder. He wore civilian's garb, plain and unassuming, which only made his hardened bearing and physique stand out more. Kaladin was like a constant, and unmovable anchor in the chaos of a high storm.
They stood in silence, for a moment, taking each other in. Adolin flashed a hesitant smile. You know this is going to be hard for him too. You can't let your dark moments undo his progress.
"Maya... I wasn't quite sure what she wanted, but she seemed to want us to come here... um..." Syl appeared uncharacteristically bashful, and Adolin got the impression she'd be blushing if she wasn't monochromatic. "And we're here now... so... bye! I'll let you two talk"
As Syl departed, Kaladin cocked his head to the side. "I... I heard. I'm sorry Adolin."
"I'll... I'll be all right Bridgeboy. Really. I just need some time. No need to fret."
Kaladin nodded, solemn. "Right." He closed the door behind him, and slid down to the floor. Patting the ground beside him, he motioned for Adolin to sit down. "No reason for you to take your time alone though right?"
"I..."
"If you need to be alone that's fine, just tell me. It's not a big deal. But for now I'll just sit here okay? Until you tell me otherwise."
Storms, when had Kaladin of all people become emotionally intelligent? Adolin hesitated, then loosened his jacket and sunk down to the ground beside Kaladin. As he leaned back, his arm brushed up against Kaladin's. He felt he could almost absorb some strength from the man's frame, like a Radiant consuming Stormlight.
He was in mourning - he should be taking time alone to work through his emotions. To pay respects to... to her... But of course, alone was the last thing Adolin wanted to be.
Adolin grimaced as he caught sight of himself in the mirror again. Granted, he was at a terrible angle, but he hadn't done nearly as good a job of clearing the redness from his eyes as he thought he had. "Storms, I look awful. What a mess."
Kaladin grunted, making his disagreement immediately evident in a way only he could. "As an expert in the subject, I can confirm looking awful isn't half has bad as it's made out to be, not that you would know."
"Come now, you know you're a catch. You have that whole aloof, stoic, hero thing going for you."
"You're the expert." Kaladin's eyes darted up and down Adolin's figure with a surgeon's precision. "Here, let's get you changed into something more comfortable. You need to be able to breath easy, and that ridiculous outfit isn't helping you at the moment. I'll get you some water." Kaladin stood slowly, and helped Adolin up. "Don't worry about how it looks, just throw on whatever will make you feel the best.
Adolin extracted his hand from Kaladin's grip, and moved over to his armoire behind the dressing screen and started shifting out of his formal attire. Normally, Adolin was able to quickly choose an outfit by instinct, but this time he found himself hesitating. Eventually, he settled on a pair of comfortable training trousers, meant to facilitate movement, and one of the men's shirts that Veil used to wear. The garment, tailored to Shallan's proportions, wouldn't quite close properly, so Adolin just pulled it around himself, smelling the shirt, and imagining his wife was wrapping her arms around him again.
He let out a sob as he sank to the ground. Kaladin was there in an instant, placing a hand against Adolin's chest, then his neck, and leaning in to support him as they sat down. After the sobs died down a bit, Kaladin held up a glass of water, forcing Adolin to drink. Adolin drank, and breathed in the smell of Kaladin. He smelt... clean, but practical? Like freshly laundered kitchen linens. Slowly, the sobs subsided as Adolin took comfort in the strong frame of his friend.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't put this on you. How are you doing, Kaladin? Storms, she was your friend too, I..."
"Sush, stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Trying to 'help' me to avoid thinking about how you are doing. You can't be a light to everyone if your own sphere is going dim, Adolin. It's okay to lean on me. My father always said, in an emergency a surgeon has to look after himself first - its only after your own person is secure that you can ensure you are capable of competently helping others. We'll have plenty of time to talk about me later. For now, what do you need Adolin?"
I need you. The thought, unbidden, seemed to escape from a locked chest in Adolin's mind. Stop it, you are just scared of being alone. Yes, he found Kaladin's presence comforting, and he certainly needed support in the moment. That was all he was responding too, nothing more. What kind of man would be thinking of someone else, like that, so soon after losing the person he was supposed to turn to? He wanted to tell himself it was just a thing of a moment, a figment of his loneliness and need for comfort.
You know that's not true. This isn't new, and you know it. Listen to who you are ignoring, even when its yourself.
"It's okay, just breathe. Drink some water and breathe okay. We don't have to talk." Kaladin's hand traced along Adolin's spine, brushing each vertebrae. Adolin focused on the rhythm of Kaladin's touch, and on his breathing. Up and down, in and out. He felt himself slipping into the trance-like state of mind Zahel had taught him to utilize when preparing for combat. Slowly he began to feel the emotions start to subside. They didn't leave, but the wave passed. He entered a calm in the storm.
"You're one hell of a surgeon, Bridgeboy."
Kaladin's hand stopped. "I do what I can," he said carefully, "But Adolin, you're the one who heals people. I'm just returning a favor, long overdue."
Adolin smiled, feeling a moment of genuine warmth in his chest. "Thank-you."
#adolin kholin#kaladin stormblessed#kaladin#adolin#kadolin#row#row spoilers#rhythm of war spoilers#rhythm of war
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so off of the thing u posted earlier about serial stories and how it’s felt for me to read this upd8 as the first one i’ve seen live, how does the release schedule of gf affect how you write? like do u decide to focus on specific characters or storylines after an especially long hiatus, or do u intend the parts to be read as a more cohesive whole
oooo this is an interesting one.
i'll start by saying that there is no release schedule as such. chapter 8 is a bit of a unique circumstance because i view it as a singular unit of storytelling despite being split into three acts, so it was very important to me that they all come out within at most a week of each other. going forward into 3.2 i definitely WANT a more consistent release schedule (so that i can actually budget time to work on other stuff), but up until now it's basically been "a new chapter comes out when i finally have the energy to write a new chapter."
for the record, when i first published 3.1 chapter 1 in january 2020, i was certain that i'd have 3.1 finished by july 2020. oops!
anyway.
when i divide a fic up into parts, i don't do so arbitrarily. from the first chapter of gf3.1 i've known how it was gonna end. so for me, the writing process is basically just a matter of getting to that endpoint in as interesting and fulfilling a way as possible.
i definitely design godfeels, especially gf3, to be a story that rewards archive reading, and i always want it to feel like a cohesive whole. when a fic in this series is finished, i want it to feel like a complete unit of storytelling whose beginning, middle, and end are all satisfying, even if there's a bit of a cliffhanger or something. like i think gf2.1, 2.2, and 2.3 each have their own identity and make sense as individual fics even as they they tell one continuous story.
in the same way though, i also put a lot of effort into making each chapter feel like a complete unit of storytelling in itself. it's not like i just write until i stop and then say "yeah that's a chapter, sure." i also have very specific endpoints for each chapter in mind, and work the same process out accordingly.
ok spoilers for godfeels 3.1.8.1 under the break!
with the latter half of gf3 especially, there's also sort of a mental checklist of hooks that i need to set up that i'm constantly ticking from. for instance with ch8.1, it was really important that we see exactly when/where dave, roxy, callie, rose, kanaya, karkat, jane, jake, jasprose, and yes june, jade, and davepeta (rip) are before the countermeasure goes off. besides giving us a status update on the cast, this also gives me a chance to further iterate on some plot threads that i've got in the works (like rose's nightmares, or roxy and callie's plan re:jade, or karkat slowly converting jane into a communist). i also have plans for individual characters that i'll take the opportunity to seed in minor ways.
as a longterm for-instance that i think is safe to talk a LITTLE BIT about: in ch4, the robot in jade's space mansion says this:
and then in ch5, lenore says this to june:
and lastly in ch8.1, burning romeo says this to lenore
i can forgive you for not connecting these dots seeing as we're talking about really long chapters where a lot of stuff happens that were all released between months of downtime.
so basically what i'm trying to do is get the reader to ask themselves why controlling/erasing memories keeps coming up with these characters. and then of course there's gherard's halo which is implied to be rewriting june's memories, and which jade herself seems painfully familiar with.
if i ever say some shit like "the answer to [x] seems painfully obvious to me" it's almost always because of little shit like this. the hooks i'm talking about are very intentional but rarely bigger than a couple words in the middle of a speech... so they're really easy to miss, especially if you're not reading this thing all at once! and this is the way in which i think gf3 especially will be rewarding to return readers by the end, because once you have a fuller picture of what's going on then a whole lot of stuff that seemed innocuous will immediately stand out as foreshadowing.
BUT! as fun as these hooks are, they can't carry very much narrative weight in the short term. so when writing a chapter i am always trying to find a balance between like a dozen disparate elements. if i know a chapter is going to be tragic, i want there to be humor in the dialogue. if i know a character's going to lose agency, i want to give them something real to do. vriska-june's fight with xtrick, for example, is pure candy. is it strictly necessary? is there much in the way of plot weight in that fight? well there's some light worldbuilding and characterization involved, but... no, not particularly. it just felt like we needed a cool mech battle! like if i'm gonna go to all this trouble to set up this big epic moon war then fuck dude we might as well have a cool mech battle!
a hiatus between chapters has never really changed my plans in the short term? i will say that i'm glad i waited to write ch8 until i got medicated, because in the months since i posted ch7 i think i've gotten over a small chunk of the homestuck-related cynicism i gained through 2020. but overall i don't choose to focus on specific characters as a result of a hiatus.
in the case of lenore's big aside, that was actually one of the last additions before 8.1 went into revisions. i knew that i wanted lenore to abandon the legion, but i thought that scene was gonna be real short. except when i started writing it i realized, wait, hold on. this is the PERFECT opportunity to finally give the audience a sense of what kind of operation jade and davepeta are running. on top of that, it also let me set up some very important hooks that will be a major focus of 3.2.
it's funny that when i started this fic i was really determined to keep the space opera stuff out as much as possible until we got to 3.2. like there's a specific piece of information that will be revealed in 8.2 that i thought for the longest time was gonna be endgame shit. but i've been thinking a lot about story structure and how easy it is to just sort of hide everything from the audience and string them along on the promise of big reveals. so i've pretty much decided, no, i'm gonna have the confidence to show my hand a little. because the meat of this story isn't in the plot twists or the slowly emerging mysteries of the grander plot, it's in the way these characters interact and how they cope with the situations they wind up in. if i have confidence in my ability to write that stuff well, then i'm actually much more capable of writing something that feels really cohesive and like it's building up to something. it's a delicate balancing act, giving enough of a substantive trickle of new information that it's clear there definitely IS something there and not just a vague mystery box, while ALSO not revealing so much that when we actually get to the bits that i'm foreshadowing the reader feels like they're retreading old ground.
to circle this back around, the reason these last three chapters are all under the umbrella of "chapter 8" isn't just because i wanted the eighth fic in the series to end with eight chapters (although that is true). i view all three acts as being part of a very deliberate contiguous whole, in the same way that the beast that is chapter 4 exists as a contiguous whole in my head. but i think you'll see when 8.2 goes up in a week that there's a pretty natural division within the acts themselves that lends towards being presented as their own discrete units of storytelling. you could easily see them as their own chapters? but there's a particular sort of... simultaneity, let's say, that demands (imo) they be read as a singular thing.
mostly though i just really like ending chapters in big dramatic ways!!! i love making people go OH SHIT OH FUCK and keysmash relentlessly. and that's how homestuck ended its acts!
uhh the end
#godfeels#lenore lehart#june egbert#godfeels 3 chapter 8#release schedule#homestuck#hs#story structure#sarahposts
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just wondering, are you still writing the outside? I'd still love to read more of it
I’ve actually been meaning to talk about this, so this is as good a place as any.
I’d really like to work on it some more. It’s such an important fic to me, I just. I dunno. I’ve been trying to work on the next chapter and I can’t get anything even half-decent down. I actually don’t know how many times I’ve deleted and retried the next chapter, even changing which group it’s on a few times, only to just do it over again. It’s like the flow I had before totally flew out the window and refuses to come back.
I’m thinking the best thing to do is stop for now. At least, in terms of new chapters.
I want to redo the plotline and change some stuff up and something I really need to do is just go back and start rewriting all of the existing chapters. There’s a few Egos I’d just like to remove completely, and some I’d like to replace with someone else, and change up some pacing and. Oof. There’s a lot I need to edit. I started writing the fic back in December 2017, and when I started…I had no idea where I wanted to go with it. It was only supposed to be a few chapters but turned into a monster. And my writing’s changed a lot since then, too. It gives me whiplash comparing the first chapter to the most recent ones, and I want the writing style for it to be continuous through the whole thing. (plus the mid-chapter POV changes… those have been bugging me to no end)
That also means I may be able to find a way to work Eric and the new Egos into it without it seeming like they just kinda. Fell off the face of the Earth. I was always kinda sad that I couldn’t put Eric in because he was created a year after I’d already started it, so here would be his chance
I still 100% plan on continuing it. It means far too much to me to just abandon it, but I think I need to try approaching it from a different angle–after redoing outline and old chapters. Some only need minor edits, but a few (probably many- ) need complete overhauls or even to be just completely removed.
I hate putting having it on hiatus even longer than it already has been, but I’m just trying to figure out what to do. Like. I’m so excited for what’s to come! I want you guys to see it so bad! But I also want it to actually be.. Good, y’know? And trust me, I think about the fic almost every damn day, so I definitely haven’t forgotten! I’m just trying to figure it out.
When I do go through with the rewrite, I’ll keep the old version up, though! It’s…really encouraging to see where my writing has come from there, and maybe some of you guys would want it to stay, too (plus, I go back and read some of the comments when I’m having a rough day). I’ll make a new post for it on AO3 and FanFiction, and post each chapter, starting from 1, here. Over on FanFiction and AO3, I’ll label the old one as The Outside (OLD VERS).
What I’d really like is to completely write out the fic, beginning to end, then post a few chapter a week (I’d…really like to avoid something like this happening again. Hiatus for a few weeks, I’d understand, but I feel awful having it on pause for so long). But again, it could be a while. I’ve got a lot of stuff I need to consider as I redo the outline.
TL;DR: Yes, I plan on continuing! But first I want to redo my outline and rewrite all of the existing chapters/probably not start posting again until I have every chapter finished, so it'll be a while.
#answered ask#the outside#update#anonymous#i've admittedly been putting off redoing teh outline#i really hate making outlines ^^"#they're so boring :I
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