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elbiotipo · 2 months

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Worldbuilding: Galactic Empires

My only complaint about the Prequels is that they needed MORE politics

If you've watched Dune recently, you must have noticed the whole Emperor and space noble families thing. And yes, it's likely you heard that in WH40k too… and I HOPE you know that's where the God Emperor came from, since WH40k took "inspiration" from everywhere from Dune to Star Wars. Which also has a Galactic Empire. Like so many other science fiction franchises.

In fact, if you're a science fiction fan, it's very likely that you're familiar with space or galactic empires, they seem to be common as dragons in fantasy. Despite the fact that an empire doesn't sound very futuristic, does it?

Where did all these Galactic Empires come from? Are they just a narrative tool or are they an actual possibility? How would states and societies work in space? Let's find out, and maybe I can give you some ideas on how to write fun galactic "empires" from both a narrative and plausibility perspective.

This is going be a long post. Perhaps my longest yet. But I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Click down to continue.

First of all, where did these space emperors come from? In another post, I've talked about the influence of the idea of the rise and fall of the Roman Empire in English-language fiction. However, in science fiction, I would say the influence is more direct. The Foundation trilogy of Isaac Asimov, one of the foundational (lol) works of science fiction, was intended by the author, very explicitly, as a retelling of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire by Edward Gibbon in a science fiction setting. He probably wasn't the first to think about a space empire, I'm very sure the term is older, but he certainly popularized it as a staple of science fiction. Now, if your contact with science fiction comes from movies, when you hear Galactic Empire you're of course thinking about Star Wars. But yes, Star Wars is also the same retelling, because Lucas was inspired in both Asimov AND Gibbon, even though I think we should appreciate Lucas' ability to bring it to life in the screen. Certainly, Isaac Asimov wasn't the first or the last to take inspiration in history to tell stories about the future.

The most influential science fiction work of all time.

At this point you're probably telling me (or not, I don't know you) about all other sorts of science fiction works that DON'T have galactic empires, or better yet, those that don't just transpose historical societies into the far future and imagine something entirely new (my personal recommendations on this area are Banks and LeGuin). And you'd be right. But the concept of a space empire seems popular and long-lived, much like feudalism in the fantasy genre, everyone has a picture of a sorts when a videogame or a book talks about a "galactic empire" or "galactic republic" or a "federation", an "empire" much like a shorthand name for "a country In Space", regardless of the presence of an actual Emperor or not. And so, it's worth exploring how this trope could, or not, work, so we can see the possible alternatives or more fun ways to approach it.

Besides, that's the title of the post. Galactic Empires.

So, let's approach this from the perspectives of Space, Time (or to keep with the theme, Spacetime) and Technology, and lastly, the most fun part, we'll explore some fun variations on this idea of galactic empires and societies.

Space:

Space is big, and I won't quote the Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy here, it would be groanworthy at this point. Let's do a quick exercise instead. Let's image a "modest" space empire, not even galactic, 2000 light-years across. Sounds quite big, it encompasses most of the visible stars we can see from Earth… however, if you project it into a galactic map, it's actually a very small piece of sky, actually 2% of the entire galaxy which is about 100.000 ly across. Now, according to the Atlas of the Universe, there are 600 million stars in a 5000 ly radius from the Sun. Jesus Christ. This is actually hard to estimate accurately as the true number of red dwarfs and brown dwarfs, the dimmest stars, are hard to count, but we already know those have planetary systems as complex as our own Solar System, even planets that could bear life. Let's scale back to our 2000 ly across space empire, again, just a small cozy corner of the Milky Way Galaxy, something that would look like a small, even tiny, nation in any setting of a galactic scale. This gives us 240 million stars (from the estimated 200 billion stars of the galaxy) in this space, which is still completely insane but let's work with that.

From Atlas of the Universe, so you can compare and contrast, the stars 2000 ly from the sun (ONLY the brightest ones), and the entire Milky Way. Notice how small 2000 light years truly are at that scale.

Even if I just told you that all of those systems might be as complex and rich as the Solar System, let's rather arbitrarily say only 5% of those 240 million are worth of note. Not necessarily having life (no way I'm getting into that yet), just worth visiting or living in for the resources or the views or the cantinas… whatever. That's 12 million star systems. Okay, let's refine this further. Let's say of those 12 million, most of them are the equivalent of gas stations or farmsteads, a couple thousand people at most. The REAL places where the action happens are the systems or worlds where millions of people live, and those are few and far between (this makes both common and narrative sense, as people tend to cluster in population centers where trade, resources, etc. are). Let's say, and let's refine this further so I don't get outrageous numbers, the average population of those systems is 100 million (about the size of Mexico, Vietnam or Japan. Many sci-fi works throw worlds of billions like Earth like nothing). And those systems are… uh, like 2% of THOSE 5% 'systems of note' (a flimsly concept already but play along). That's 2% of 12 million. We got 240.000 systems or worlds the population size of entire countries, with all that implies (economy, culture, politics). Of course, 240.000 multiplied 100 million gives this speculative fictional empire a total population of… (Jesus Christ, not the scientific notations), 2.4e+13, or TWENTY FOUR TRILLION PEOPLE.

Let's wind back and remember I tried my best to make a "small" empire for a galactic-sized setting, 2000 light-years across, that's just from here to Orion's Nebula for Gagarin's sake! A trillion people is just outside the realm of my imagination, or pretty much anyone's. Can you imagine any kind of goverment system that would be enough to provide any kind of meaningful governance to 24 trillion people? In the case of a space empire, can you imagine a single space emperor, a single person, deciding over them? Keep in mind that emperors don't rule on their own (we'll talk about that), they need bureacrats to make their will done, and vassals to govern their territories in their stead. This would apply even in democratic systems, you need representatives and civil servants and more.

Let's scale back a bit before I go insane. Instead of assuming territory, let's go with population. Assume a spherical cow space empire of… 40 billion people, that's reasonable right? You can picture that in your head? Five times the population of current Earth, no biggie, we can work with that, it's all cool. Now, how big would a goverment for such a population would have to be? We actually have reasonable answers. China has about 10 million civil servants for a population of 1.4 billion people, but that's only the administrators, not including all the teachers, healthcare workers, security forces, laborers, etc. employed by the state. India has 6.4 million for about the same population. Okay, so easy math, let's say that this space empire has 6 million bureacrats for 1 billion people, for our empire of 40 billion people, that gives us a total of 240 million… just bureacrats, nothing else. Yes, you could reduce that with technology by say, half. It still means an entire Mexico-sized country of bureacrats. Imagine.

Entire worlds of this.

NOW I WILL STOP THROWING NUMBERS AT YOU, and let's just think about what this means. If we assume a space empire like the ones common in science fiction, or just any kind of… goverment at all, we're talking about, at the lowest estimates, entire countries worth of state employees, if not whole EARTHS of bureacrats. You can guess how things can get really weird fast. Current goverments as we know them just won't work at all it even if technology gets more powerful. Leaving aside, for now, things like god-like AI adminstration (yeah, have you seen what they are like now?)… to exhert ANY kind of control, FTL or not (more on that below) you would need a very, very autonomous empire, to the point it might as well not exist at all. Why take orders from A Guy who is not only far away but also has no hope at all of actually enforcing them in any meaningful sense? Why call yourself part of his "empire" that not only cannot enforce anything upon you, but also cannot benefit you in any way? Big question, of course, the benefit of a galactic or even smaller empire, but we'll discuss that later.

What could work, however, is that instead of a centralized state like we concieve it today, or even a loose confederation, even loose alliances, even pretty much anything… 'empires' (as in 'countries') In Space could be "united" by common ideas and culture instead of any institution. Perhaps not even a written delcration or constitution, but shared ideas: a culture, a religion, an ideology. Lots of different strong mini-states (that might mean billions of people…) that all claim to be part of the same "civilization", but share no goverment at all at all, just the same 'idea', in a looser way that even the most decentralized goverments you can think of. You can say "well all countries are made up" but these would barely qualify as even that. Not even the Holy Roman Empire was this fake.

Perhaps even a single person as a symbolic focus point of unity? Which would be actually a score for the proponents of galactic empires in the most literal sense. But at the same time, such an Emperor would be completely powerless to interact with the entire galaxy. His plans for, I don't fucking know, education reform or tax breaks, would have to be filtered by literal millions of bureaucrats and vassals that at that point might do whatever the hell on his name. Military-wise, his armies would count as nations of their own. However, the overall guidance of a single person (or constitution…) as a symbol might make otherwise disparate worlds to collaborate on the same causes, being part of the same greater whole no matter the distance. So maybe, instead of a Galactic Emperor, a Space Pope?

OH MY GOD-EMPEROR WAS THE IMPERIUM REALISTIC ALL ALONG? Probably not, but also yes, let's keep talking.

By the way, I'm sure you're tired of big numbers now, but I did one possible calculation for the whole galaxy, a true Galactic Empire. Asuming just 0.2% (400 million) of the 200 billion stars are populated, with an average population of one million, the size of the smallest countries that aren't micronations. The total galactic population would be 40 trillion, or 40,000,000,000,000. Five thousand Earth populations.

Time:

Or rather, space-time. We'll talk about both, because what concern us is the speed of information and trade, and that also limits the size of our empires.

I'm sure you know by now faster-than-light travel is impossible. Most of space based science fiction has it, of course, for narrative purposes. We don't want Our Heroes to spend two thousand years to get to the lair of the Evil Space Tyrant, I don't either, and I'll discuss FTL soon. But let's start with no-FTL here, just like in real life, and a smaller "empire", much, much smaller than my previous examples. A mere 250 light years across. Let's not even calculate population now.

This, quite logically, means that the fastest your communications would flow is at light speed. So if your emperor issues orders to a nearby world, say, 5 ly away, you will get an answer 5 years later. For a more reasonable distance of 60 ly, you would know the results 60 years from the descendants of those who recieved the order (now, assume however they keep in constant conversation, just with a 60 year delay), and by then, things there would have changed 60 years from the capital. You get the idea, Einstein sucks, don't need to elaborate more. At first glance, this might be another point for old-style feudal star empires, though. What better way to guarantee your empire is working well over centuries than by having an hereditary class of nobles loyal to you, no matter how much time passes (results may vary). Of course, how would you even enforce that? Rebels might overthrow them and you'll learn about it a century later, and you'll have to send ships to quash the rebellion… or would you?

Is there a point to send ships to conquer other worlds in such a situation? What kind of resources (ah, the lifeblood of empires) could you control with such an empire where transport takes decades and industry is so developed you could, theoretically, make manufactured goods yourself? I'm assuming you can, because you can build spaceships to get there in the first place (not unreasonable), but what would justify creating an interstellar goverment controlling people, trade, resources, over light-decades? Normally, it's at this point where sci-fi authors make up Something (what Atomic Rockets calls "McGuffinite") to justify interstellar trade. In Dune, for example, it's Spice, which is kind of like, to steal a joke, petroleum mixed with cocaine. But otherwise, in a no-FTL setting (so, real life as far as we know) there isn't really the incentive to conquer or even form a goverment of any but the looser kind with other worlds. Trade, maybe, but those are long-term investments, it's difficult to think what kind of good or service would be so in demand would justify it. Especially when you consider that light-speed is your upper limit, and ships might be actually way slower than that. And I'm not even gonna begin to touch relativistic effects.

I was going to make a joke about blowing a quarter of your GDP in Star Destroyers, but have you heard of the South American Dreadnought Race? One of our dumbest moments down here, surely.

Add FTL, and things change, of course. Even very slow ships, that would take months to transverse a dozen light years, would be able to justify trade in luxury goods and passengers, for instance. This is not too far from real-life either, after all, European colonial empires had travel times in the months, and they had to install local administrations such as viceroys because of this, yet rhose places they were considered part of the same empire (most European empires could be rather considered a collection of "countries" and colonies, look at all the divisions of the Spanish Empire for instance). Faster and cheaper ships would of course, mean even more trade (here, I'm using 'trade' as 'communication between worlds', not necessarily implying capitalism, it could be mercantilism or even a command economy) between worlds, even perhaps the classic trope of agrarian and mining worlds feeding the rich core worlds. The Open Veins of Latin America In Space. Fun.

The speed of your ships and communications not only determines trade, but the power projection of your state (we can discuss 'stateless' societies too, there's plenty of fun to be had). If, again, your Galactic Emperor makes a Galactic Proclamation from the Galactic Palace near the Galactic Core (let's roll with that) and he has no FTL communications of any kind, it means that his commanding voice would reach the outer edges of the galaxy 100.000 years after, that is, almost ten times the history of agriculture on Earth. If he, however, has access to ships that can cross the galaxy in say, months, yes, perhaps he can have a series of vassals all over the stars (perhaps, we'll see…), and the faster things are, the closer they resemble our current fast-paced society, but not quite, given the available resources and space in… SPACE and the possible population, as we discussed above. As you can see, the speed of your FTL or lack of it determines everything.

There is another, more *realistic* option. Instead of individual FTL ships, you could have wormhole portals connecting worlds. This is more realistic in the sense that it's theoretically possible (though we have no idea on how to make one), but it also has some interesting implications. First of all, there is an implication that such a wormhole network would be expensive to build and maintain, requiring highly complex technology, material (I'm not sure what the hell exotic matter really is) and production methods, well, more high than what you'd expect from the usual. Second, it would be something preferably fixed, with hubs, planned routes and regular transit (and for writers, it easily allows you to map your universe). Such networks would be vital pieces of infrastructure, built and maintained by central authorities, drawing routes and transport hubs in space. Yes, indeed, almost like… space railroads.

OH MY ASTRAL EXPRESS WAS HONKAI STAR RAIL REALISTIC ALL ALONG? (last joke I promise)

There is also a very strange effect about wormhole networks. Time is relative, as you know, and this is not a metaphor, it literally "flows" differently on how fast you're moving. The "universal" "speed" of "time" "seems" to be the speed at which matter moves in an expanding universe (red-shift and blue shift) as I understand it, but as you approach light-speed, time flows differently in your frame of reference. Wormholes are strange in the sense that they connect space AND time, the observable time in both sides of a wormhole would be the same, and as such, places connected by a wormhole network will "be" at the same "time". This has been talked about by some authors who have considered about wormholes in the context of space civilizations, and it's called (STOP!) Empire Time. So a space empire might not only imply a state ruling over a population and a territory, but also over a time. I have no idea how this works and it frankly makes my head hurt, but here is an analysis of transversable wormholes if you want to indulge or hit your head against a wall.

Technology:

As an extension from the previous section: Of course there is no working FTL method known in real life, as far as we know, light-speed is the upper limit for everything. Instead of constraining you as a writer, this can be one of your biggest assets.

Because if you're doing a space setting, the existence of faster-than-light travel and its speed is the most important decision you can take about it.

Got that? Did I emphasize that enough? You don't need to actually explain HOW your FTL system works, you can do some research and invent something, but you need to be clear, in your head, what it can DO: How far and how fast it can take you. A FTL system that takes months to go from star to star will be very different to one that takes hours to span the Galaxy like the hyperdrive of the Millenium Falcon. A FTL system that is cheap and can be installed in any tiny ship like in the Elite videogame would be different from the ones in Dune where interstellar travel requires enormous motherships and lots of drugs, or a wormhole network that needs massive infrastructure maintainment and probably a railway starway worker's union, or the case of no FTL at all. This is, again, the most important decision you could make for your setting, bar none. Got that? Let's continue.

FTL is perhaps the only place in science fiction where I don't care about how it works, only about how fast it goes

Now, technology. Space empires, are of course, not possible without space travel being cheap enough (not talking about FTL, just regular space travel): shipping stuff to space should be about the same as shipping stuff by airliner or, well, ships. This is not unreasonable. Efforts are being made right now to lower the cost to access space, and while space agencies like NASA might look expensive, they are not NEARLY as expensive as the money wasted in say, stealth jet fighters or fucking advertising (people who say 'why spend so much money in space when we could fix our problems on Earth' seem to forget about that all the time. But I digress.). A technologically advanced, wealthy (as in production, not literal dollars) society could easily afford as much space exploration as they wish with no real effect at all in their quality of life, indeed, it would improve it. Space isn't as expensive as it seems. At its very, very core, a spaceship is just steel and propellant.

And steel and propellant are very, very easy (once you got the technical research to do it) to get in space. Asteroids are MADE of iron and metals, a single asteroid is richer than all of Earth's mines combined. Hydrogen is literally the most abundant element in the universe, and water is on plentiful supply (no need to steal planets for water) on comets and icy asteroids and moons. Carbon is apparently widely available in carbonaceous asteroids, and in our own Solar System, Titan, the moon of Saturn, is basically covered in hydrocarbons (yes, OIL IN SPACE). All those resources could be very much in demand for manufacturing on a planet like for example, a future Earth that has taken its industry up to space. What's more, it's only bringing stuff up from Earth/an Earth-like or more massive planet (fun sci-fi term for you: "down the gravity well") that's really expensive. Once you get there, you can get anywhere with enough acceleration and propellant. Once there is space infrastructure and industry (and I get a feeling that it might get up fast, given that space technology would need to be very autonomous and reliable), it can sustain itself without a mother planet. In fact, if there's something I imagine would be considered a luxury in spacer life, it would be truly organic things; plants, wood, meat, wool, and so much more.

i am average astronaut man i work 15 hours in the asteroid mines to buy one burger

Which brings us to the big question; what kind of life would be out there? After all, I gave you numbers of millions and millions of worlds, it's hard to imagine at least a few of those don't have alien life. This is the biggest outstanding question in astrobiology currently and so I won't pretend to even try to answer it (my personal opinion, if you must, is that complex Earth life is extremely rare, but by sheer number of planets, it might exist by hundreds of thousands in our galaxy alone). Instead, let's try to see how science fiction looks at it.

Heinlein, another of the foundational writers of science fiction as a genre, saw alien worlds as just another frontier to be settled. Rich alien fruit, fertile arable lands, and huntable or tameable creatures just waiting to be exploited, and alien species to trade exotic goods with (or conquer). While Heinlein was not the only and probably not the first to write this subgenre, he certainly got it popular, and lots of works on his same vein follow this "frontier spirit" kind of writing, where space is seen as the last frontier to be tamed by hardy colonists in a very yeehaw cowboy western setting, and you can actually see this replicated in many modern science fiction like Firefly and the more cowboy-ish parts of Star Wars. And yes, this is balantly an expression of the 'manifest destiny' Usamerican imperialist worldview.

lots of Politics all over this Science Fiction Adventure

And yes, this idea of 'habitable' planets ready to be colonized like in a 4X videogame is also not very realistic either. We haven't found any alien ecosystems yet, but as a biologist I can tell you they would be very different from us in ways you probably won't expect. We can discuss how convergent evolution could be, a world with oceans would probably have equivalents of 'fish', 'algae' and 'worms' (I can GUARANTEE there will be A LOT of worms), we could even find very, very similar life to our own down to the body plan. However, we most probably could not eat them at all (which might sound silly at first glance but is needed to have you know. agriculture.), or perhaps even live in the same planet as them. We live in a society planet where most of the plants and animals which evolved with us can't be eaten, and many of them are toxic. It's possible, entirely likely, that the alien equivalents of carbohydrates (ever heard of L- and D-Glucose?), proteins and other substances would be indigestible to us, allergenics, or outright toxic, probably in ways we can't even think off. It's likely we won't catch alien diseases, but that's because our cells (if they even have cells) are completely incompatible with their diseases, just look at how different animal, plant and fungi cells are, now imagine whatever the fuck might evolve in a completely different biochemistry from us. There would be no farmsteads and cowboys like Heinlein wrote, living in Mars would probably be more pleasant that living in a world where everything might be toxic, not because life evolved to be toxic, just because it didn't evolve with you. If anything, these' habitable' worlds would be treated like giant nature preserves instead, you can look but don't touch.

(In one of my own settings, I sidestep this by proposing panspermia, that is, the idea that life spreads across the universe by means such as comets (or aliens) and thus shares similaritites and can eat the same stuff. A bit of a cop-out, but it does allow one to get with similar kinds of life.)

NOOO ANAKIN DON'T EAT THAT PEAR IT EVOLVED HIGHLY TOXIC ALKALOIDS IN A DIFFERENT EVOLUTIONARY CONTEXT NOOOO

But humans, if the biophilia hypothesis is right, will need nature in their lives. This is where orbital habitats come in. You know, like the ones in Gundam? Orbitals such as O'Neill Cylinders, Standford Torii (yeah, that's the plural for Torus) as well as bigger and more complex thingmajings I will write their own post about someday, have been proposed since the 1970s with technology available then, and there is no reason why a civilization with an advanced space infrastructure wouldn't try building them and even be better at it. What's very nifty about orbitals is that you can really make them your own personal custom miniworlds. Designs like the O'Neill cylinder are big, able to house hundreds of thousands, even millions of people if build to the top, but why do that? Mess with the lightining, the rotation, or the interior to make them a winter wonderland or a tropical paradise. I expect that they would be built to feed space communities at first with food that isn't imported from Earth or grown in hydroponics, and later as places to live and customize however you wish; perhaps a community would pool resources together and say, hey, we want to make an habitat that looks like a Colombian cloud forest, or the Okinawan Islands. Once they get cheap enough, and given how abundant resources are in space they might be not even as expensive as most engineering projects here on Earth, I expect actually many, many people would want to live in them, and it could be probably be very affordable, and just natural for the people who are born and raised and live and die in them. Another thing about habitats is that they are mobile. Like I said, as long as you got enough propellant and propulsion, you can move anything anywhere in space. Even whole habitats could move and cluster together depending on the local politics. Perhaps, much like city-states were the basic building block for countries in antiquity, in the future, the basic organization bloc would be the Orbital. You could have alliances of orbitals forming complex political intrigue inside a single solar system (yes, like in Gundam).

OH MY PLASTIC MODELS WAS GUNDAM REALISTIC ALL ALONG? (I lied)

This all might make space empires pretty much an unnecessary anachronism. Habitats can grow their own food and resources are plentiful once you have the right technology. They can also be mobile, so they could act like migrating cities at will, choosing to stay with like-minded "constellations" or strike out on their own without the dictates of a central state. It almost looks like an ideal anarchist society.

Or does it?

There is something very important to keep in mind about life in space. The technology, that is, habitats needed for life in space will require lots of maintainance and resource management, which implies there must be strong coordinating bodies with very, very strict rules so that shit doesn't blow up and you lose all your air into space, or the resources of an habitat are mismanaged and you end up with a food or water or even oxygen crisis. There is a reason why space exploration is done by state agencies or corporations with huge state backing. Another of Heinleins's favorite tropes, Libertarians in Space, would be impossible in such a situation. Actually, in ANY space situation, and this is why this section is in technology. Living in space requires you to be able to maintain complex technology and manage resources. None of this can be done ad-hoc or be left to individualism, you have to have Rules and follow them to the letter. And also, the effect of living in your 'own little world' would probably mean people have a strong indentity sense towards their home habitat. This will mean a more communitarian attitude. But before you think I'm waxing poetic about utopian habitat cultures, keep in mind that this also can mean an authoritarian mindset. After all, cults and authoritarian regimes do have "strong communities" too. An habitat could be everything from a well-managed place with responsible citizens who look for the welfare of all, to a closed society where everybody does as they're told as long as the tech works. On the other hand, I doubt habitats in a single star system would stay isolated. They'll probably trade and communicate with other habitats, forming constellations and power groups, that would prevent this 'closed system'. However, I doubt they would be too amenable to interstellar authority. Who the hell do those people from another freaking star think they are to tell us what to do in our habitat?

To be serious for a moment, habitats can be really cool places in science fiction. Especially if you imagine they could host all sorts of enviroments, from the tropical to the polar.

As an addenum… what if you really want to live in a planet? In places such as Mars or the Moon, things would be… pretty similar to orbitals actually. Habitats separated by vast expanses of barren nothingness, only now a planet instead of space (better for maps, at least). But that isn't what you're thinking, right? What if you wanted to feel the open wind and sky instead of a canned world? Well, this is where terraforming comes in. Transforming whole planets is something theoretically possible, but that would require massive investments of resources, more massive than anything we can imagine, and time, centuries at the very, very least. So stupid ideas like "terraform Mars to escape Earth", which as far as I know is only held by dumbasses like Musk, just don't make sense. It doesn't mean that terraforming itself is a worthless idea, it is a very appealing one. No matter how cool you can make your habitat, it won't ever be Earth. It won't ever be a self-sustaining biosphere with its own ecosystem that could last millions of years. For that reason, terraforming is attractive, it's something way more than an artificial "can" orbital, it's a new living world. There is a certain mystique into bringing lifeless worlds to life, but I expect that instead of the dumb Musk "ESCAPE EARTH" idea, the motivation for terraforming would be to recreate Earth, perhaps for conservation reasons (you could have whole planets as natural reserves), perhaps for tourist reasons, perhaps for spiritual reasons or even artistic reasons. On the other hand, the methods you can use to terraform a lifeless planet can also be used to 'terraform' living planets, as we've long seen in our own world… this could be done with hostile purposes. I would expect us to be better than that, but we simply don't know.

To close this section and give this post an conclusion, I think that, since there are no real borders in space, then empires, countries, polities, whatever you wish to call them, will be formed by stacking building blocs in loose alliances or confederations. The most basic would be habitats, then constellations of habitats, then inhabited planets (though I doubt any but the most populated ones would qualify), and then star systems, but little above that, and I expect up to a certain, difficult to calculate limit of population and area (though way, way below even a fraction of a speculated galaxy), things would be just impossible to manage. The effort in bureacracy, infrastructure and state control needed to project power out of a star system and the sheer scale of space probably won't ever justify empires, much less galactic empires, but you could have very interesting variations on the theme.

Fun Stuff!

So, let's play a little with what I've told you. I'm going to write a few short scenarios that might be fun takes on the "Galactic Empire" or "Space Empires" you might be familiar with already:

The Poleis Model

When the Greeks established their colonies around the Mediterranean, they didn't do it with the expectation they would be part of the same state or empire. They founded new poleis, new city-states, based on the constitution of the mother city (hence metropolis) but fully independent. The Phoenicians were much the same, with some of the daughter cities (Carthage means literally "new city") eventually becoming new cultures far from their home cities. Similarily, why should interstellar exploration mean the spread of a united state with a capital and all? Imagine that when interstellar ships depart, they do with the idea that they are going to create a completely new home, a new poleis, not an extension of the nations or organizations that sponsored them but rather more of a 'child' culture light years away from their motherland. As they develop in mostly isolation from each other, they will become new cultures on their own, while retaining ties to the ones most similar to them. This is, in my opinion, the most realistic scenario without FTL. With FTL, however, things get more interesting, as of course, Greek and Phoenician and other poleis didn't remain isolated light-years from each other, they had permanent contact. With FTL they could organize in leagues, perhaps even alliances for the ocassional military campaigns, trade and exchange of ideas, tourism and industry, and of course the Olympics.

The Wormholes Always Run In Time Model

As I've said, wormholes are pretty much like space railroads. Railroads, like other big infrastructure projects, need a centralized authority to be built and maintained. And once you are the central authority that does so, you're already in charge of the biggest arteries of trade and communication. Which makes you basically an empire, officially or not. In fact, this is the closest I imagine a space society would resemble the states we're familiar with here on Earth. If you have control over transport and the hubs of trade and politics, and that transport and communication network allows you to implent your policies, your rule might go very far indeed, and indeed, your main hub might be a great capital, the main station of known space. Now, perhaps you might be imagining a literal space empire with nobles and all that. Why not instead something else? The Socialist Interstellar, connecting the many worlds of the galaxy through a five hundred year plan of railroad wormhole construction in the path to communism... However, this would mean that people outside of the wormhole network might develop in different ways, perhaps the equivalent of nomads to the great settled empires of antiquity. And given what I've briefly touched on Empire Time (*breakdances*), the expression "the portals always run in time" might imply even more than just an aphorism.

The Civilization Cluster Model

I'll admit this is taken from Poul Anderson, as quoted in Atomic Rockets, to which I owe an inmense debt for this post and so much more. The idea is this; space is big, as is well established. Even with FTL to shorten the distances, even if you could cross the galaxy in a few weeks, the sheer number of stars is still insanely massive. Why should any civilization 'colonize' those stars dot by dot, what value is there in invading or colonizing planets with incompatible biochemistries? And how could even begin to think how to administer a thousand different worlds, each one as complex as Earth itself, let alone an entire galaxy? In this case, civilizations, instead of spreading across the galaxy, would mostly remain in their own 'civilization clusters'; even with FTL, there are so many issues closer to home that the idea of projecting power outside is ridiculous. There would be trade, exchange of ideas, and so much more between these clusters, but never constant enough and never with the authority necessary to create a "Galactic Empire"… the worlds are too many, too diverse, too populated and too far away for that. An interstellar traveller could roam the Galaxy for years exploring these clusters spread away from each other, with their own unique idiosyncracies and civilizations inside, and then a vast expanse of mostly nothing outside them. Basically, space is too big. I like to see them as constellations among the dark sky, hence the artwork.

The No Man's Sky Model

To live in space, you need complex technology, but also resilient and durable technology ready for any kind of situation, easy to repair and replace. So eventually, I believe designs would be standarized so much that every astronaut will carry or own a collection of standarized tools (somehow this reminds me of prehistoric tool cultures). Now, even with FTL, there's perhaps little material incentive for people to leave their comfortable homeworld or habitat to live in cold space. But some will, perhaps because of the sheer thrill of it, perhaps very small bands of families or friends. With a standarized tool kit for any ocassion, these small bands would spread across space, much like ancient humans spread across the world. But instead of creating space empires, without a fixed industrial base, they would be nomads. Which doesn't mean they would roam aimlessly, they would be seeking new biospheres, new resources and new cultures, and gathering in temporary or permanent market places, festivals and pilgrimages. Perhaps they could even be the majority of humans in space, while most others stay cozy on Earth.

...

This was a very long post and it took a lot work to make, so I hope you had as much fun reading it as it was for me to write it. If you did, and if you would like to see more, I would be very, very grateful if you donated to my Ko-Fi below. Anything helps a lot especially since my country is not doing great at this time governed by a libertarian idiot (not even the fun space kind), and even a little tip encourages me to post more, I'm always working on your suggestions! You can also contact me by DM or asks if you need any help with your worldbuilding or just want to rant with me a bit! See you next time, and thanks for reading.

#worldbuilding #science fiction #sci-fi #writing #writing advice #space #history #cosas mias

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fishnapple · 2 months

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CRYSTAL READING: What messages come to you through dreams ?

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Book a personal reading for you.

Reading for each group below :

1. Tiger's eye

Some desires for order and security deep within you have been trying to find a way to get your attention through dreams.

Those dreams would pull your attention toward relationships. Relationships with people and with material possessions.

Uncover a desire for love and sharing.

A desire for your most vulnerable part to be protected.

I believe each of us has an inner authority.

And this inner authoritative figure inside you is trying to tell you that you're indeed being protected.

This inner protection could also manifest as an outside protection.

Each vulnerable part inside us will meet a counterpart strong enough to face and accept it.

Your dreams are telling you don't be surprised when your wishes do come true out of nowhere.

It may seem sudden to you, but actually, every small action you do during your daily mundane routine would reflect your inner desires and feelings. And they have been gathering force deep and ready to burst out.

Just a side note, going to social conventions, where there are lots of strangers, would bring some pleasant surprises.

2. Agate

Your shadow has something to tell you.

Shadow here does not mean anything bad or evil, just some parts that stay in the dark of your pysche, lacking your awareness. It could be a forgotten pleasant memory, a hidden talent waiting to be developed, an embarrassing thought, or just some mundane thing that was pushed to the back.

But here, your shadow is saying that the residence is getting crowed, too many residents are being crammed into the dark.

Maybe consider changing for a stronger and larger light bulb ?

While you may go about your life in pursuit of some happiness with other people, you are not aware of other aspects in your life getting neglected.

I see an image of an oblivious mother duck going ahead without noticing her children scrambling behind, struggling to keep up.

The message would involve food, eating, what you put into your mouth, and what comes out of your mouth.

A female figure would appear in your dream to tell you directly or subtly to take care of those aspects. To take it easy and maybe doing some light creative project with friends would bring in unexpected fun.

3. Labradorite

There are some frustrations. Not a big obvious one, but just some small itch. But with time, it could grow into some serious discontentment.

Your life may appear good, nothing chaotic or disruptive.

But the energy feels stagnant, being divided into small parts. Like the feeling on a humid summer day, the air is moist but quite suffocating. Everything is still and lazy, waiting for a release of thunderstorms.

This feeling could come from the environment you are in. Nothing too grand or exhilarating would happen.

So the dreams are showing you a yearning for something bigger, more foreign, out of the norm.

If left unchecked, this yearning would create some chaotic or spontaneous actions without your total awareness.

4. Moonstone

For those that chose this moonstone, the stone represents the moon landed nearest to the centre.

The biggest theme would be your emotional fulfilment, what is nourishing you.

The dream would be an intimate whisper, a soft word of solace for you.

When you are about to experiencing some change in your life, when your daily routine is disturbed, when the fun is take out, when you seem to be unable to find motivation, don't try to force anything.

Maybe inaction would be the best action.

A good meal, a nice, cosy sleep would do wonder.

Become more aware of what food you are craving and what reactions are arising inside. It would bring lots of light into your hidden part.

Love.

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strawbxrryhwa · 1 year

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"I like you." - park seonghwa.

pairing - park seonghwa x fembodied!reader

genre/warnings - smut! mdni. toxic!seonghwa, dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex (pls don’t), slight choking (he literally only loosely wraps his hand around readers throat), let me know if i missed anything!

word count - 4.5k

authors note - hii everyone! this is officially my first post on here, so i’m most definitely super nervous.. but i hope you enjoy!!

A knock could be heard echoing through Seonghwas house; bouncing across the walls. Outside of the door you stood, anxiously waiting, nerves running through your body. You fiddled with the strap on your bag, trying to distract your mind and keep your thoughts collected.

Seonghwa had invited you to another one of those horrible parties he kept attending; or more accurately threatend you to go. Parties weren’t really your thing. It wasn’t like you didn’t like them, you enjoyed parties. You just didn’t enjoy seeing Seonghwa make out with every other girl there. You would have rather stayed at home; reading books in the comfort of your bed. Not getting your heart broken while you're out to have a good time.

Seonghwa was known to be a bit of a fuckboy. Sleeping around with whoever he could seduce; and sadly, you had fallen for his charm. You had been friends with him for as long as you could remember. Both his and your mom had been childhood friends, so it just kind of happened that you both ended up as friends. Your crush on him had developed pretty early on. But you were scared to ruin the friendship you had; so you just kept quiet.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door flying open in front of you. You looked up to see Seonghwa greeting you with a smile, stepping to the side and motioning for you to come inside. You smiled stepping inside, letting your bag slip down to the floor. Seonghwa closed the door behind you as you bent down to untie your shoes; not noticing the way Seonghwa lingered by the door, eyes stuck on you.

You put your shoes away on the shoe rack to not anger the clean freak; grabbing your bag and standing back up, turning to him with a smile. “I thought you’d be late,” Seonghwa taunted with a cheeky grin, moving away from the door to walk towards his bedroom. You rolled your eyes at him, even though he had his back turned to you.

“I’m not always late,” You said, annoyance dripping in your words. Sure, you had a small habit of being late sometimes. But it definitely wasn’t as bad as Seonghwa made it out to be. “Yeah, sure.” He scoffed.

Walking into his room was just the same as always. His bed perfectly made, not a speck of dust in sight and the pleasant mild scent of lavender filling your nose. You inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar scent. A small smile spread over your lips.

You shot a glance at his bed, smile dropping, before looking over at his desk, already knowing where you’d choose to sit. You sat down, your bag once again hitting the floor. You let out an overdramatic annoyed sigh while slumping back in the chair, glancing over at Seonghwa to see his reaction. He looked over at you, eyebrows raised with a confused expression on his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, turning back around to his closet; going back to his search for an outfit. “Do we really have to go?” You groaned while throwing your head back. Seonghwa felt himself twitch. He turned back to look at you, thousands of sinful images running through his head seeing you in the position you were in.

“Come on, don’t be such a bore,” He walked over to you, his head hovering over yours. You looked up at him rolling your eyes, moving back up so you were sitting normally. Seonghwa spun the chair in his direction; his hands resting on the armrests. He leaned over you slightly, eyes staring into yours. “You’d just stay at home reading one of those boring books of yours.” He said, a small smirk spread across his lips. You felt your cheeks go hot. You crossed your arms and quickly turned away from him.

“I would’ve preferred that actually.”

Seonghwa chuckled before pushing himself off the chair. Your head snapped back to him, watching him walk back to his wardrobe; your eyes scanning his body.

You broke your eyes away from him, looking around his room; eyes shooting towards his bed. Your head began swarming. Seonghwa had told you about the multiple times he’s had girls over. It was painful to listen to; but you were so close, so it wasn’t weird. Right? He was your best friend, telling you those things in details couldnt be weird, right? “You know what,” You began as you stood up, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. “I’ll sleep in the guestroom tonight.”

“Why? We always share a bed,” Seonghwa answered, currently buttoning up the shirt he had decided to wear. “There is no way you’re sleeping in the guestroom.” He continued, head turning to look at you as you moved closer to the door of his bedroom. You shrugged. “I’d rather get settled in there right away, rather than being kicked out when you bring a girl home.” You joked, hand grabbing the handle of the door.

He raised an eyebrow, tucking the front of his shirt into his pants before walking towards you. “I won’t bring home a girl if you’re here, stupid,” He reached for your bag and took it from you, his other hand reaching for yours. He dragged you towards his bed, letting your bag fall to the floor before sitting you down. “You’re sleeping in here with me, that’s final.”

Your heart skipped a beat, air trapped in your lungs as you looked up towards Seonghwa towering over you. You swallowed before gathering enough courage to speak. “Yeah, whatever.” Was all you managed to mumble out, face turning away from him.

“Good girl.”

He smiled, petting your head before turning away from you; getting back to finish getting ready.

The cab ride there felt like torture. Your heart felt like it was about to jump out your throat. Your nerves almost completely taking over. You were fiddling with your hands in your lap, staring out the window; when you felt a hand on your bare thigh. You looked down and followed the hand up to see Seonghwa looking back at you.

“You good?” He asked, voice dripping in concern. You smiled and nodded, doing your best to cover it up. He slowly nodded, keeping his eyes on you. You turned back to look out the window; praying the car ride would be over soon. Hyper-aware of his hand on your thigh. You shifted in your seat, nerves growing the longer his hand was kept on your thigh. Seonghwa smirked seeing you shift under his touch: his pointer finger slowly started moving in a circular motion, smirk growing bigger as he saw you shiver.

He had always enjoyed teasing you. Knowing full well the control he had over you. It was like he knew you liked him, but wouldn’t dare do anything about it.

You kept your gaze glued to the window, head foggy as you felt his hand move the slightest bit further up your leg. But before he could do anything else the cab driver announced your arrival.

You let out a sigh of relief as you felt Seonghwas hand leave your thigh. You both got out of the car and Seonghwa walked up to you throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s go!”

Hearing the loud music booming out of the house made you cringe. Regret flowing through you like crazy; and stepping inside the house only made it worse. The music already making your head ache. You both wandered further into the house; finding your way to the livingroom to find the rest of your friends. You noticed Mingi fairly quickly, nudging Seonghwa to point in their direction.

When getting closer to the rest of the guys you shrugged off Seonghwas arm from your shoulders; wrapping your arms around Mingi in a hug, greeting him. You broke free from him and turned to greet the rest of the boys; your nerves slowly disappearing.

Time seemed like it just flew by as you all sat together. All your worries had completely weared off; and for once you were actually having a lot of fun at a party like this. You were currently laughing like crazy over a horrible joke Mingi had thrown out, your hand found its way to his arm; playfully slapping it. Seonghwa took notice and couldn’t help but glare at the interaction; before his eyes scanned the room.

His eyes landed upon a girl dancing in the middle of the room, a small smirk spreading across his face. He stood up, excusing himself from the group before making his way over with two things in mind; sex and revenge. Seeing what direction he was going in made it click, you knew exactly what he was about to do. I won’t bring home a girl if you’re here, stupid. Yeah, right. Your mood immediately switched, feeling like you just shrunk in size; wishing you could just vanish into the couch you were sitting on.

Mingi quickly noticed the shift in your body language, eyes following the direction you were looking only to see Seonghwa make out with some girl in the middle of the room. Mingi felt his jaw clench; if only looks could kill. Mingi knew about your crush, being the only person you had opened up to about it. He had kind of picked up on it by himself and eventually asked you about it, his suspicions getting confirmed. He had been there for you whenever it got too overwhelming, being the second closest person to you after Seonghwa.

Mingi teared his eyes away from his friend, looking back at you; face softening. “You wanna go outside for a bit?” He yelled over the music, nudging you. Your eyes shot up to him, answering with a nod. You both got up and Mingi grabbed hold of your hand, leading you outside. Seonghwa noticed, lips breaking away from the girl in front of him to watch you leave.

You took a deep breath as soon as you stepped outside the door; the cool air hitting your skin. You both headed over to a nearby bench and sat down. You sighed, head dropping down as you let out a laugh. Mingis head turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion and shock at the sudden action.

“It’s ridiculous,” You began, throwing your head back and looking up at the star-filled sky. “It’s been years at this point.” You trailed off; not being too sure where you wanted to go with what you were saying. Mingi kept quiet and wrapped you into a hug, resting your head on his chest. You both sat like that for a while; you couldn’t even cry. How could you even? It had been going on for years; but still you just couldn’t seem to get rid of the feelings you had; and it was not like Seonghwa made it any easier for you.

Mingi gently patted your head with his hand, the other one gently rubbing up and down your back. You sighed, eyes tightly closing before breaking free from his grasp. You opened your eyes again and gave him a small smile.

“I think I’ll just go home early.” You sighed, looking back towards the house. “Could you tell the others I just got too tired or something?” You asked, looking back at him.

“You sure?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. Mingi knew you too well, he didn’t want to let you go; knowing you’d overthink and that you shouldn’t be left alone. But he couldn’t really stop you either.

“I’m sure,” You started. You stood back up, looking down at the man in front of you. “I want to get back home before him, so I can sneak into the guestroom.” You tried to joke, a dry laugh leaving your throat. Mingi didn’t really find your horrible joke funny, but still chuckled as he stood up.

“I’ll call you a cab.” He said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. Shooting a smile your way.

A pleasant sigh escaped your lips as you snuggled down into the bed in the guestroom. You had managed to remove your makeup and change into your pajamas, which ironically happened to be one of Seonghwas shirts.

I won’t bring home a girl if you’re here, stupid.

His words kept repeating in your head, almost taunting you. Why did you agree? You had always declined Seonghwas invitation to parties, no matter how much he tried or begged you always declined; so why didn't you do it this time? Why? What was so different?

More questions swarmed your head as you felt tears well up in your eyes, allowing them to fall. All you wanted was to turn back time, to go back and decline his invitation. Maybe even travel back further in time to slap yourself for allowing this crush to appear in the first place.

Your thoughts got interrupted by the sound of the front door opening; making you freeze, holding your breath as you heard the house fill up with laughter.

Seonghwa and the same girl he met from the party stumbled into the house. Seonghwas hands explored the girl's body, lips kissing down her neck. Moanes escaped the girls throat, her hands finding their way into Seonghwas hair, slightly pulling on it. He groaned from the feeling, leading her further into the house as they kept their hands on each other.

You could hear it all, as well as their footsteps going further into the house. You turned your back towards the door, tightly closing your eyes praying for sleep to just take over so you could escape the sounds. You heard them pass Seonghwas room, confusion filling you. Their footsteps were getting closer to your door; and suddenly it swung open. All the noise abruptly stopped.

The silence was killing you, it felt like they stood there for an eternity before you could hear them move away from the door. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, letting your body relax. But it didn’t last for long; you could already hear the moans coming from his room. His groans making your face heat up. But tears yet again spilling from your eyes as you realized what he was actually doing. It didn’t take too long for you to fall asleep though, the party, tears and just everything had you completely exhausted.

Waking up was the last thing you wanted to do, you didn’t even bother opening your eyes before trying to fall back into sleep. Feeling heavy you let out a groan as you tried to shift in bed, only to realize you had a pair of arms wrapped around you.

You froze from the realization, opening your eyes only to be met by Seonghwas bare chest. Your breath got caught in your throat from the shock, mind going blank as you laid there. You tried to carefully turn your body to the other side to get out of his grip and leave; but you only made it to your back before you felt yourself getting pulled closer to Seonghwa.

“Good morning.” He mumbled, his voice raspy from just waking up making your stomach flip. All you managed to let out was a quiet ‘hm’ as a response, once again moving to get out of his grip. He groaned from your action, once again pulling you closer; if that was even possible. Your head was pushed up against his chest again and you held in a breath.

“What are you doing?” He started, slightly lifting his head to look down at your face that laid pressed against him. “Just go back to sleep.” He finished, head falling back into his pillow, slightly squeezing you. You sighed. There was no way you were going back to sleep now, being wide awake. What is he doing in here? You moved your head to look around the room, only for the realization to hit that you were in fact not in the guestroom.

You pushed away from him, finally escaping his hold on you. You rolled over to get out of bed but felt his hands sneak around your waist yet again. He pulled you back up against him, his head snuggling into your neck.

“Let go, Seonghwa.” He felt his body freeze, knowing you were mad at him. You never addressed him by his full name, just only whenever you were genuinely pissed at him. A small smirk spread across his lips as he let himself relax, pushing his head closer into your neck, giving it a small peck just to tease you. His smirk only grew bigger as he felt your body go stiff.

“I changed the sheets already.”

His statement caught you off guard. So what? As if that was enough to actually make you want to stay in bed with him.

You both laid there quietly for a while. Thoughts running through your mind; but they quickly got interrupted as you felt Seonghwas lips press against your neck once again. One of his hands slowly caressing the side of your body. Shivers ran through your body from his touch, you felt your body heat up; thighs pressing together.

He shifted behind you, his hand slowly moving closer to your boobs. He nibbled on your ear as you felt his hand pinch your nipple through your shirt. You squirmed in his arms, back slightly arching and your ass pressed up against him; feeling the bulge growing in his pants. You let out a whimper as you felt him kiss down the side of your neck, slightly nibbling and sucking on the skin.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” He mumbled into your skin, groaning as he felt you brush up against him. Suddenly he was hovering over you, eyes staring into yours. You held in a moan as you felt him press himself against you, your back arching from the contact. “I want to hear you, baby.” He groaned, grinding against you. His lips found their way back to the side of your neck, harshly sucking and biting on the skin; painting it with hickeys. His hands traveled over your body as whimpers kept escaping your lips; low groans leaving him, vibrating against your skin.

One of his hands traveled down your body, pressing against your core. You gasped loudly, eyes shooting open to be met by Seonghwas. “You’re so wet for me, baby” His fingers slowly drawing circles on your clit over your panties. “Such a good girl” He cooed, his other hand caressing your cheek. His words made your mind go blank. Was this actually happening right now?

His lips smashed against yours, desperate to taste you. You kissed him back, your hands sneaking into his hair; slightly pulling on it. He groaned into your mouth from the action, feeling like he was about to snap any second. He nibbled on your bottom lip, tongue immediately going in to explore your mouth once you opened it for him.

He broke away from the kiss as his hand left your dripping pussy. You whined, bucking your hips; missing his touch already. He chuckled, looking down at your face filled with desperation to be touched. His hand moved up to your face, holding his fingers out to you.

“Open up, baby,” He said, a small smile on his face. You hesitated, staring up into his eyes. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” You slowly opened your mouth, allowing him to stick his fingers inside. Your mouth closed around his fingers, your tongue dancing around them. You moaned against them as you tasted yourself.

He groaned from the sight, feeling himself grow harder by the second. “There we go, baby.” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth before moving to sit up. His hands traveling up and down your thighs.

Seonghwa felt like he was on fire, seeing you like this on his bed had him feeling like he was going insane. He had waited for so long, sleeping with a bunch of girls wishing it would’ve just always been you. But now you laid in front of him, desperate to feel his touch.

“Hwa…” You managed to whimper out his name. Waiting for him to do anything, rather than just stare at you. Something in him snapped, hearing you whimper out his name had his head spinning. Without a second thought he ripped your panties off, throwing them to the side. His lips found their way back to yours, his fingers going back to pussy. You gasped from the sudden action, your back arching from the feeling.

“I’ll make you feel so good baby,” He said, lips moving down your throat. His lips left your body for a split second as he threw your shirt off, throwing it in the same direction as your panties.

His mouth found its way to your boobs, putting one of them in your mouth, sucking and biting on your nipple as his hand gave attention to your other one; pinching and squeezing on it. His other hand found its way back to your pussy, pushing two of his fingers inside without warning. You were a moaning mess underneath him, your hands once again tangling into his hair; tugging and pulling.

You couldn’t think straight, your back arched and your body kept squirming. The feeling was overwhelming, you felt his fingers stretch you out; curling inside of you. The way he was touching you, as if he knew exactly what to do to make you go dumb. It was as if he knew your body like the back of his hand.

He pushed a third finger inside, tears welling up in your eyes. You let out a sob as the pleasure became almost overwhelming. The tears fell from your eyes; and you felt your legs begin to shake as his fingers kept pumping in and out of you.

Seonghwa lifted his head away from your chest, but his fingers never dared to stop. “Are you feeling good, baby?” He asked, his other hand moving to caress your cheek. You nodded your head yes; unable to form a proper sentence. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Use your words, baby.” He stopped completely, his fingers slipping out of you.

“Y-yes…” You managed to breathe out, wanting for him to touch you again. “There you go,” His fingers slowly pushing into you again. “You’re such a good girl for me,” He continued, his free hand running through your hair. His lips moving to the side of your neck again, planting soft kisses over the hickeys he left.

“Let me hear you baby,” He said in between kisses while making sure he was stretching you out enough. “Say my name.”

“Seonghwa.” You whined; and that was enough to make him lose it. The groan he let out was enough to almost push you over the edge. His fingers slid out of you, moving to push down his pants enough to let his cock out. Without a second thought he pushed into you, shocking you enough for a scream to escape your throat.

He stopped moving as soon as he was fully inside of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. Tears streamed down your face from the sudden shock and the amount of pleasure you were feeling; small sobs continuing to escape your throat. Seonghwa whispered sweet nothings into your ear, doing his best to stop himself from just fucking you dumb there and then. Your arms wrapped around his neck, slowly getting used to him inside you.

“You good, baby?” You managed to let out a small ‘yes’, making sure you actually used your words this time. You felt him nod in your neck. He planted sweet kisses over your shoulder as he slowly started moving.

It didn’t take long for him to slowly speed up his pace, lips trailing back up to the side of your neck; once again sucking and biting on the already sensitive skin. One of his hands moved to loosely wrap around your throat.

The pleasure had you feeling like you were about to slip away, you were a whining mess under him; your eyes rolling back. The sounds escaping Seonghwas mouth had your head spinning, turning you on even more.

Seonghwa was loosing it completely. The feeling of you clenching around him almost made him go insane; the pretty sounds leaving you only adding to it. His lips left your neck to meet yours, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

You could feel yourself getting close, legs shaking as broken moans left you. Seonghwa wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing even deeper and faster into you.

“Seonghwa… I’m…” Was all you managed to get out between kisses. “It’s alright, baby.” He reassured, knowing he was reaching his high as well.

You let out a loud moan as your orgasm washed through you, Seonghwas thrusts getting sloppier; loosing its rhythm. He kept thrusting into you, helping you ride out your high before pulling out; spilling his seed out onto your stomach. He planted one last sweet kiss onto your lips before getting off you.

He got off the bed, pulling his pants back up before leaving the room. You stayed still on the bed, your legs still slightly shaking; mind blank. What just happened?

Before you knew it Seonghwa was back, gently wiping you clean with a warm wet towel. Once he finished he picked you up without a word, moving you into the bathroom; gently helping you into his bathtub. You melted in the hot water, body relaxing. Your eyes closed, a pleasant sigh leaving your lips.

“Are you alright, y/n?” Your eyes opened back up, looking over at Seonghwa. His face was soft, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared down at you from the side of the tub. You nodded, one of your hands reaching for him. “Join me.” You let out, slightly embarrassed; even after everything you just did.

Without another word he got undressed. You moved so he could sit down behind you, leaning back against him. You both sat there quietly for a while, just enjoying the warmth of the water. Seonghwa had his arms wrapped around your waist, with a smile stuck on his face.

Seonghwa helped you wash up before helping you back into bed; making sure to change his sheets before doing so. You were both laying in each other's arms, still quiet. You were too scared to speak; afraid to ruin the moment. You could feel your heartbeat speed up, the realization of what had just actually happened almost pushing you into a panicked state.

“I like you.” The words escaped your mouth before you could even react. Slapping one of your hands over your mouth, cursing at yourself. You heard Seonghwa chuckle, one of his hands running up and down your back in a comforting manner.

“I like you too.”

#park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa hard hours #park seonghwa hard thoughts #seonghwa hard thoughts #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa ateez

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maddiviner · 9 months

Text

Reading Journals!? Why You Really Should!!

I'm writing this to promote the concept of reading journals in general for occultists!

It often seems like, while a lot of us read a ton, we don't engage enough with what we read. It's very important to think critically about the information we consume.

Keeping records of it can be helpful for that. While not everyone's going to vibe with it, I do recommend giving it a try for most witches, diviners, wizards, etc... you might like it. Keeping a reading journal? It has some advantages IMHO.

I found it works very well for keeping track of my reading goals. It also helped me engage more with what I was reading. I think this produced an altogether more interesting experience when reading fiction, too.

I learned more when reading nonfiction, and it helped prep reviews for this very website, too. It's kind of hard recently, because of health issues, but I want to keep a daily reading habit as best I can. I might change up my journaling format, though, which I'll discuss towards the end of this article.

To begin, you need a journal. Any blank notebook will work. A lot of people swear by dot grid journals. I use those for most other things. For my reading journal, I bought a pre-printed one called Kunitsa, and there are others on the market, too.

Beyond that, you only need a pen. I use a lot of highlighters and other color in my reading journal, to make tracking things more fun. Next, you're going to want to include a table of contents for your reading journal if possible. In fact, I recommend doing that for all journals, but that's another story entirely. If you pick a pre-printed reading journal like mine, choose one with such a feature.

If you're a DIYer, leave a few blank pages at the beginning of your notebook for the table of contents. Usually four or five pages will do for a table of contents, depending on the size of the journal itself. Including a table of contents can also help get past those first-page jitters if it's a blank book.

A reading journal can include an inventory of your library. My own library is digital because I have to cross the Atlantic on a frequent basis. Those with physical books might find it useful to catalogue everything, particularly favorites.

This could even include where it's stashed. Given that I could easily print a list of mine, my journal doesn't have this, but yours could. You could also organize your library based on the criteria of your choice. I do this digitally, and it can be great to be able to pull out a list of (for example) all the Tarot books I own, favorites, etc..

Keep track of your reading goals! This is the big one, of course. I try to read at least thirty minutes per day, and I log each day I meet that goal. A reading journal can include a simple daily reading tracker like mine, or variations on that.

Some people might track how many pages they've read, or even chapters, for example. You can, of course, include your To Be Read list, adding to it and crossing out as needed.

Keep track of books, authors and topics. You'll want to include a page or two for each book you read, with meaningful quotations and your own thoughts. Some people get quite elaborate with this, including diagrams, images, and such.

I stick to quoting the parts I found important, then adding my own notes. If you buy a reading journal, choose one formatted for both fiction and nonfiction. These little "spreads" on each book help a ton if you want to prepare reviews later on, or just to keep track of what you’ve read for the future.

The reading journal I've been using has a section for borrowed books. Since all my books are Kindle, and I don't typically borrow books, I repurposed this for my review schedule. You can create your own spread for that kind of thing if you're doing a DIY approach, which would be even better.

Because I didn't see a use for the first two pages of the notebook, I turned them into a little pocket using washi tape. I figure that if necessary, I can include extra trackers/etc on my own paper in the pocket. I haven't done that yet, but I probably will in the new year. Currently, the pocket only contains some unused stickers.

You could, of course, get much more complicated with a reading journal! It's all up to you. I plan to use a similar setup next time around, but doing it myself in a (larger) dot grid notebook. The preprinted version of a reading journal worked well to get me started. Now that I've got the basics figured out, I want to customize things more.

All and all, I know most occultists love journaling. At least, many of us do. But why don't more of us journal about what we read? Dedicating a notebook just for a reading journal worked great for me, and might work for you, too.

I'd look into different options (preprinted, blank notebooks, digital) before getting started. Don't be afraid to mess up, like with any new notebook. It can become a way of looking deeper into what you're reading, though.

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danmainacc · 2 years

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DOUBLE TAKE BY DHRUV

double take by dhruv song-fic ( shot technically ). this song is so pretty :’) it used to make me cry every time I heard it

Character: Donatello

Writing type: Song-fic

Warnings: fluffy fluff yet again :) maybe a few innuendos cause it’s me >:)

Author’s Note: SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. A WHOLE BUNCH OF WORK CAME UP. i luv donnie so much <3 ( header credit to qoeww ) song lyrics are in italic

...

I could say I never dare

To think about you in that way

But, I would be ly-ing

Donnie slowly lifted his gaze from his blueprints, practically fighting against himself to keep his stare from traveling back to you, who was sitting on his desk.

You were reading your book intently, eyes trained on the pages, with your tongue slightly poked out, a thing you would do when you were focused.

You two were friends, and have been for who knows how long, but Donnie’d be a liar if he said he never wondered what it’d be like you were more.

And I pretend I’m happy for you

When you find some dude to take home

But I won’t deny that

“Ugh,” you groaned, walking into Donnie’s room and plopping yourself on his beanbag in anguish. “Yet another nightmare date for the history books.”

“What was it this time? He has 27 gerbils? Thinks California’s a country? *gasp* Is he from Staten Island?” Donnie half-heartedly joked, his heart breaking with each one.

He wanted to be the one to take you out, he wanted to be the one to sweep you off your feet. But you were just stuck in this cycle of terrible blind dates, not even noticing what was right in front of you.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you playfully scoffed, kicking off your heels and snuggling into the soft chair.

In the midst of the crowds

In the shapes, in the clouds

I don’t see nobody but you

In my rose-tinted dreams

Wrinkles silk on my sheets

I don’t see nobody but you

‘Focus, Donatello. Damn.’

The turtle groaned and flopped his head on his work-desk in anguish, arms hanging in defeat.

He was trying to write the blueprint for a new gadget that he needed for around the lair, but every time he got into the groove of drawing the shapes, they always seemed to look like you.

He was seeing you everywhere. In his dreams, in his blueprints, hell, in the foam in his coffee.

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming?

Tell me

“(y/n)....I love you.”

Do you feel the love~?

“No, no, that’s not right,” Donnie dismissed, shaking his head at himself in the mirror.

“That’s too forward. I’ll scare her away.”

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“(y/n)...I deeply care for you in a way that is not platonic.”

Do you feel the love~?

“Nope, definitely not.”

And I could say I never unzipped

Those blue Levi’s inside my head

But that’s far from the truth

Donnie snapped his eyes open, abruptly sitting up from his bed, the image of your bare ass still clear in his mind.

“Jesus, Donatello,” he groaned, covering his red face with his hands as he noticed the friend sticking up in his lower region.

“Get it together.”

Don’t know what’s come over me

It seems like yesterday when I said

“We’ll be friends forever”

“It’s crazy to think that we’ve been friends for 8 years today,” you happily smiled, turning to your best friend.

You two had decided to go to the place where you first met, a secluded part of Central Park, in honor of your Friend-iversary

“Yeah, man,” Donnie sighed, turning to look up to the sky, his smirk slowly melting into a sad smile

“Friends.”

Constellations of stars

Murals on city walls

I don’t see nobody but you

“Almost done~,” you cooed as you placed Donnie in the center of the alleyway, running over to prepare the tarp.

“(n/n), if this is another beach ball prank, I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive you,” he sighed, crossing his arms as the patter of your sneakers got louder.

“Oh, relax. That was one time. And his is completely different,” you assured, placing a hand on you friend’s shoulder.

“Alright, take it off!”

Donnie untied the blindfold and lifted his gaze to see that you had painted a portrait of the two of you hugging on the alley wall.

It was beautiful, so vibrant and life-like that you’d think the picture could breathe.

“You like~?” you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows at your friend’s awestruck face.

“It’s....It’s amazing,” Donnie smiled, biting back a couple tears.

You’re my vice, you’re my muse

You’re a nineteenth floor view

I don’t see nobody but you

“I cannot allow myself to be shown up by your breath-taking painting, so I have decided to bring you here,” Donnie smirked, his hands covering your eyes as he walked you out onto the roof of the building.

“Uh huh. And where is here exactly?” you smirked, turning to your turtle friend.

“You’re about to find out,” he smirked, releasing your eyes.

“Viola!”

You opened your eyes to see that you were on the rooftop of an incredibly tall building that overlooked the entirety of New York City.

The view was phenomenal, you were able to see practically everything, from Lady Liberty all the way to...*shudder*...Staten Island.

“Donnie! You didn’t! This is awesome! I love it,” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug.

The turtle turned dark red, eyes wide at the sudden gesture, but he quickly recovered, wrapping his arms around you.

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming

Tell me

“I love you,” Donnie thoughtlessly sighed under his breath.

Do you feel the love~?

“Huh?”

“NOTHING!”

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“I could’ve sworn you said something.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Do you feel the love~?

“Donnie....”

Boy, you got me hooked onto something

Who could say that they saw us coming

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Gee, it’s getting late. WE SHOULD PROBABLY GET GOING!”

Tell me

“DONNIE!”

“WHAT?!

“I LOVE YOU, TOO!”

Do you feel the love~?

“You what?” Donnie went wide.

Spend the summer or a lifetime with me

Let me take you to the place of your dreams

Tell me

“Donnie....I’ve loved you for years. I just never...I just never thought you would feel the same.”

Just then, Donnie grabbed you by your waist and roughly pulled you into him, smashing his lips onto yours with a longing that was even obvious to you.

Do you feel the love~?

After a few more the seconds, the two of you pulled apart, breathless and red.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

...

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #nickelodeon #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader

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bubbabooo · 2 years

Text

ao3 recs

i’m back 😋

decided to make another ao3 recs list hehe, these are always my fav to make

i’ve also decided to completely revamp the way i do my recs lists. before the descriptions were too vague and lazy. now i’ll be giving my own description along with what i thought of the fic. looking back on my old recs lists i cannot believe they got as many notes as they did when they were so crappy LOL

also i don’t know if you can tell but i’m trying to make my lists prettier ☺️☺️ (hence the header image and the pink dividers :p)

side note, there’s and alarming amount of atsumu fics in here?? i didn’t even realize that i’ve been reading purely atsumu content?

Forget-Me-Not by ChaoticSins

Atsumu x reader, friends to lovers 💗💗. this one has me in a chokehold. so you and atsumu are childhood friends and you’ve been in love with atsumu practically your whole life. you end up leaving for college but then when you finish it you need to get an apartment. atsumu offers to be your roommate (see where i’m going here?). this whole story had me squealing and kicking my legs. i really don’t want to spoil it but i will give you one of my favorite quotes in this book: “But…don’t ya fuckin’ dare think yer 5 years of waitin’ around for her is anywhere near the 11 years I spent lovin’ her,” :) ongoing

msby black jackals online! by mooshys

Black jackals x reader, mostly platonic but one of the guys will be endgame ;). this one is by the same author as shiratorizawa antics! i adore that story and they both share many of the same elements. if you liked that one you’ll definitely like this one. here, you are the teams social media manager. you go through many heartwarming (and hilarious) things with the team. this story is definitely a nice fluffy getaway from the majority of fics i read haha. it was so fun to read and i loved it. completed

Better Days Ahead by morningsideup

Kuroo x reader, demon kuroo x reader, magic/modern au. do i really have to say more?? this fic…! so you are just the run of the mill museum worker (btw your co worker is tsukki), living a boring ol mundane life. until you find the demon prince kuroo who accidentally traveled to your universe and is now unfortunately stuck due to you destroying the item that brought him here. now, you are stuck with this spoiled demon prince and are forced to help him search for the missing shards of his gem that brought him here so he can travel back home. cmon, tell me that doesn’t immediately want to make you dive into this fic. the tension between reader and kuroo drives me insane. and you’ll come to know that tsukishima can be a little shit. 10/10 so far, ongoing

They were roommates by atsukashii

Iwaizumi x reader, roommates au<333, friends to lovers. you are in need of a roommate. you see an ad for a girl named tooru oikawa looking for a roommate. you jump at the chance and are looking forward to moving in. you think everything’s perfect until you get to your new home and see that tooru isn’t a girl, and that he has a very friend who also happens to be your roommate. oikawa won’t be difficult to live with, but iwaizumi? and his hotness? def gonna be a problem. this is the perfect quick read. it’s so good for when you’re in a reading stump and need a pick me up. iwaizumi makes you feel all mushy inside🥴. and the ending has to be one of the most satisfying fic endings i’ve read recently. completed

Set the Bar High by BeansNCornbread

Atsumu x reader, enemies to lovers, complicated. you work at a bar. you’re a college student and this is the perfect gig for you. however, miya atsumu never fails to make your life more difficult. he shamelessly flirts with you while he’s with other girls, and never leaves you alone. maybe you’d consider indulging him if he didn’t break your little sisters heart all those years ago. cannot explain how much i love this fic so far. the way atsumu desperately tries to get your attention while you keep brushing him off. and the tension. the fucking sexual tension between reader and atsumu. it has me bitting my nails. i binged this in an entire day. i love atsumus cocky ass and his fucking pining is so obvious but our oblivious readers ass doesn’t even realize it. craving the next chapter. ongoing

call me home by laurelandharper

Ushijima x reader, faking dating troupe<33. You are a famous ex child star and current professional model. you and professional volleyball player ushijima wakatoshi are paired up together for an ad campaign. to overcome unavoidable rumors, the two of you decide to fake date until things calm down. nothing can go wrong right? hehe. i love ushijima. i just love this man. everytime i read a fic with this man i’m blushing. what i really liked about this fic is was how short it was (occasionally i enjoy a nice quick read) and i liked the build up of reader and ushijimas relationship. it felt very real for me. sometimes when i’m reading the fake dating troupe i feel like the authors sometimes force the relationship. i didn’t feel that at all while reading this fic. ushijima is such a sweetheart and gentlemen here. love this fic please read it <3 completed

Challenge Accepted by Cutesight

Akaashi x reader, sort of enemies to lovers? There’s a challenge going around. Get the attention and “break” the handsome setter of Fukurodani. No one has completed this, no one’s even gotten close. However, when curious little y/n decides to partake in the challenge, she gives akaashi a run for his money. This fic is a guilty pleasure. It was a nice break from the other complicated fics i’m reading. It’s a very easy read and i love it for that. Honestly, a couple times throughout this story akaashi was getting on my last nerve. like just be with reader?? but overall it’s such a fun read. one of the best ways i can describe this story is idiots in love. oh and konoha is a little interesting in this fic too ;) completed

I Hope It Hurts by demxnscous

Atsumu x reader, enemies to lovers. you are the manager for Inarizaki. you and atsumu have never gotten along. the setter has always been a pain and you thought maybe things could improve over time. they didn’t. but now you’re being forced to tutor him, will things get better? this fic is hardcore enemies. atsumu and reader hate each other. this story is still in its early stages, so we’ve only seen a little build up with reader and atsumu. but i love the hatred between them. it’s so raw. it’s not the bullshit enemies to lovers where they kinda don’t like each other. they strongly dislike if not hate each other. i cannot wait to see this story blossom and progress. ongoing

Red Thread by deltachye

Ushijima x reader, soulmate au. in a world where you are bound to someone for life, all you want is to be with your soulmate. however, after finding him, and living with him, what do you do when he loves volleyball more than he’ll ever love you? i’ve said this before, but i tend to stray away from soulmate aus. this one is one of the few exceptions. honestly as much as i adore ushijima, he could be severely annoying throughout this story (which was intentional). this story does have some scenes which may be triggering for some which the author includes in her tags, so check it out and don’t read this one if you’re uncomfortable with those topics. overall, this story is a good example of how good a soulmate au can be without forcing it too much. completed

#atsumu x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu miya x reader #kuroo testsuro x reader #msby x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #ao3 #ao3 recs #fanfic #hq fanfic #hq #haikyuu!!

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darkangel1791 · 1 year

Text

Because many of you answered in the poll that I should keep the disclaimer with the fic for the sake of historical preservation, I thought you might like to see this. It's about when Anne Rice Fanfic was taken off off the net.

In 2000, when the cease and desist letters were sent out by Anne Rice's lawyers, we were ordered to remove all fanfiction based on her characters from the internet immediately or we would be sued. A lot of pretty terrible things had already happened to some fanfic authors, so we all took them down. Where our sites used to be, many of us put this image.

It linked to a site which said this-

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

WHERE CAN I READ FANFICTION BASED ON ANNE RICE'S BOOKS?

Nowhere. You can't. On April 7, 2000 Anne Rice had the following message to say on her webpage:

"I do not allow fan fiction.

The characters are copyrighted. It upsets me terribly to even think about fan fiction with my characters. I advise my readers to write your own original stories with your own characters.

It is absolutely essential that you respect my wishes."

This statement was then followed up by attacks on Anne Rice fanfic authors. The attacks consisted of, amongst other things, e-mailed threats regarding not only the writing of fanfiction but any writing that any fanfic author attempted to engage in (regardless of who owned the copyright), attacks on businesses that the fanfic authors owned and weeks of harassing personal letters sent to fanfic author's e-mail addresses and guestbooks. Personal information about fanfic authors was also dug up by Anne Rice employees and used as part of the harassment. Suffice it to say, Anne Rice made her displeasure clear.

SO WHAT HAPPENED?

Unable to defend themselves against these attacks, the fanfic authors responded by going into hiding.

BUT DOESN'T ANNE RICE HAVE THE LEGAL RIGHT TO TELL THEM TO STOP? WHY DIDN'T THEY JUST STOP WRITING AND LEAVE IT AT THAT?

Yes she does. However this was not an issue of Anne Rice asking the fanfic writers to stop. If that had been the case there would have been no problem. The problem was that she was not asking or even telling, she was using the excuse of fanfic to cyber-stalk and harass the fanfic authors, even after said authors removed the illegal fanfic from their sites. Not having the money or legal resources to defend themselves against this, hiding was the only option left.

COULDN'T THE FANFIC AUTHORS JUST TRY BEING NICE TO ANNE? MAYBE SHE WOULD HAVE AGREED IF THEY HAD ASKED POLITELY.

The fanfic authors were nice to Anne. When Anne Rice fanfiction started Anne's publisher was aware of it (even going so far as to link Anne's offical Random House website to many of the fanfic-oriented sites) and quietly let it be known that there was a "don't ask, don't tell" policy in effect regarding it - as long as the fanfic authors didn't shove the fanfic in Anne's face, The Powers That Be could pretend that it didn't exist. In addition to this the early fanfic authors spent months researching the legalities surrounding fanfic and asking questions of other fandoms to see how they respected copyright law in their fanfic writing. This knowledge was then used to create a disclaimer system to make sure it was understood that at no time did the fanfic authors intend to infringe upon Anne's legal rights.

This system of mutual respect lasted for approximately five years. After five years Anne Rice abruptly changed her mind and let the fanfic authors know it by way of her lawyers. Fanfiction is now considered unacceptable by Anne.

WHAT ABOUT DISCLAIMERS? DON'T THOSE WORK IN OTHER FANDOMS?

For years a disclaimer was used in front of all Anne Rice fanfics which mirrored the disclaimers successfully used by other fandoms, namely one which pointed out that the fanfic in question was a "non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of Anne Rice or any other copyright holder." While this disclaimer has worked well in other fandoms, Anne Rice considers it unacceptable. According to Christine Cuddy, Anne's lawyer "Even when done on a non-profit and/or amateur basis, such use of [Anne's] characters without Ms. Rice's permission constitutes copyright infringement."

DID SOMEBODY TRY MAKING MONEY USING ANNE RICE FANFICTION? WAS THAT WHAT CAUSED THE PROBLEM?

No. At no time did any fanfic author make money using Anne Rice fanfiction in any way, non-profit or otherwise. The only times that money changed hands were when fanfic authors and fans bought Anne's own books.

WHAT IF I WANT TO WRITE ANNE RICE FANFICTION?

Are you sure? Know what you're getting into. The threat of personal harassment is very real. Anne Rice does not want you writing fanfiction and she has the money to make you stop. Do you really want to try this?

WHAT IF I HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN A STORY AND WANT TO SHARE IT WITH OTHERS?

Don't. Not if you truly want to obey Anne's wishes. That's really all that needs to be said there. However, if you absolutely have to write a fanfic story and have to show it to somebody else via the Internet (which is, again, a violation of Anne's wishes) then doing the following may be of help. Bear in mind that this is not being offered to you as a guarantee or as any kind of legal advice. You could do all of this and still get sued. These are simply suggestions which may help you avoid being harassed:

Do not put the story up on a webpage. Share the story with others in e-mail, such as on a private mailing list.

Do not attach your real name to the story. Use a pen name instead.

Do not use the e-mail address provided by your ISP when sending out the story. Instead create an anonymous account for yourself with Hotmail, Yahoo or any other web-based provider and do not include your actual name and address when filling out the forms for that account.

If you have to put the story up on a web page do not use the webpage that came with your ISP account. Get a webpage from a free server such as Geocities, NBCI or Angelfire.

If you have put the story on a webpage do not link to the story from elsewhere on your website.

If you have put the story on a webpage do not submit that webpage to any search engines, webrings, link exchanges or other public forum.

Do not attach any personal information to the story, your email or your website in any way. This includes your real name, the name of your ISP, your home address, where you go to school/work or anything else that could be used to trace the story back to you. Likewise do not include any information about whether or not you are or were in the ARVLFC, as it is possible for them to trace your personal information through there as well.

Obviously at no time should you show or send the story to Anne herself or anyone who works for her.

Again doing all of the above is a violation of Anne's wishes. If you are writing fanfiction based on Anne Rice's books then you are disobeying her orders. Period.

I'M NOT A FANFIC AUTHOR BUT I DO ENJOY READING IT. IS THERE ANYTHING I CAN DO?

Given the sheer volume of Anne Rice fanfiction that has been written (and, as the above question shows, that people are perhaps continuing to write) it is obviously false to say that all Anne Rice based fanfic has disappeared off of the world wide web. Undoubtedly some of it still exists out there in some form or another. If you manage to find some there's nobody out there who can stop you from reading it and enjoying it. However at no time should you take what stories you find and put them up on your own webpage or even link to the webpages that you find without that author's permission. Making Anne Rice fanfiction available from your website via copying or linking to the story will get you into trouble - not just from Anne but from the author as well. Don't do it.

HOW DO I FIND THE STORIES THAT ARE STILL OUT THERE?

We don't know. And we certainly couldn't tell you if we did.

QUOTES OF NOTE

"I suppose the character is public ground. If you're willing to bring it into people's houses every week, the [fans] are entitled to certain liberties, where ever their imagination is carried by those characters."

--Paul Gross, aka Ben Fraser and Executive Producer of Due South, quoted in the Toronto Globe & Mail, Augst 8, 1998

"I am flattered and grateful for this outpouring of support, admiration and recognition. I am moved to tears actually at how my performance has moved so many others. The websites are magnificent. All the photos, artwork, chats, fiction and videos are really great. I honestly never thought I would create such a stir but I feel absolutely blessed that I have."

--Scott Cohen, aka "Wolf" from The 10th Kingdom in a letter to http://www.wolfpackclub.8m.com/letter.html. Spring 2000.

"I've read some of it... I find it very flattering that people love the characters that much."

- J.K. Rowling on Harry Potter fanfiction that can be found via the Internet. Fall 2000

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

I believe this was posted on October 4th, 2000, which is Louis' birthday, and also Anne's.

I believe I know who wrote it, but I am not positive, and even 23 years later, I am not going to expose them to any possible danger. It may be improbable, but never impossible.

So this is our history. This is what happened. And do please remember that J.K. Rowling was thought to be a perfectly decent person in the year 2000.

This isn't meant to spread any animosity now. It is just a look at history. I don't see how it belongs in AO3, but I want to put it somewhere before the Wayback Machine drops it.

ARVLFC = Anne Rice Vampire Lestat Fan Club

In 2012, Anne Rice kind of said fanfic of her characters was okay, but in 2014 she took it back.

With her death, I should think that only Christopher Rice would have the legal right, and possibly the money, to pursue this again, but so far he seems uninterested.

You may also want to read this article.

A Deep Dive into the Anne Rice Fanfiction Debacle by August T.

#anne rice #vampire chronicles #Anne Rice Fandom History #vampchron history #croatoan fanfic #where has Anne Rice fanfiction gone?

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night-dark-woods · 2 months

Note

I want to start adding text descriptions to stuff i reblog, do you have any advice? is there a guide or something you use, the style of your IDs is very nice.

hey! thats great that you want to start writing IDs. I've reblogged guides before and ill tag this post with the tag they're in (image descriptions) so its easy to browse!

in addition to those other resources, here's some guidelines i personally keep in mind, & what i structure different IDs like.

for text transcripts: source & type of image, author, date if possible. here are some pretend/template IDs:

ID. a twitter screenshot from user @.[username] dated [date] that reads: "[tweet]." End ID.

i put the period after the @ symbol so it doesnt try to tag a nonexistent (or unrelated) user on this site, and a screenreader will just pause there briefly.

ID. a photo of a page from the book [name] by [author]. text reads: [transcript]. End ID.

if the OP cited the author/book/source, you can just do "Transcript: [text]. End transcript."

for actual images:

type of image is really important!

photograph, edited photograph, reaction image, edited reaction image, painting, digital painting, digital drawing, etc. you should always put what kind of image it is.

keep in mind the purpose of the image!

if its an art piece or a photo of one, its good to describe the medium, style, colors, and subject.

if it's a reaction image or other meme, you don't have to describe the surroundings in loving detail. the "point" of the image is enough.

if its a photograph, it might also be an art piece, or from the news, or someone sharing their pet. the amount and kind of detail again depends on the point of the image.

don't make judgements or assumptions!

dont describe things as badly drawn or badly photographed- and on the flip side, dont describe things as cute or beautiful. describe whats in the image, not how it makes you feel. if you love a certain part of how a photograph is framed, or how the light is painted in a piece of art, say that specifically. "beautiful" means nothing! do you mean realistic? vibrantly colored? "cute" means nothing! do you mean in a cartoony style? or that the subject matter is a cat, which many people find cute? be specific!

dont make statements about the gender or race of the people in the photo or art piece, especially if it's real people (like a news photo) unless you know those things as a fact (celebrities, fictional characters, people you know personally, people where it is mentioned in the article the photo is from). you can just describe things like hair length, skin tone, etc. exceptions to this rule imo are stock photos- eg if im captioning my favorite stock photo of all time, cyber woman with corn, i am going to describe it as "a stock photo of a white woman in a futuristic silver and black wraparound visor, wearing a silver bodysuit and cradling an ear of corn near her face and smiling slightly."

here are some example descriptions, all from images i have on my phone.

ID. a photo of two cats laying head to head on someones outstretched legs, which are under a blanket. one cat is an orange tabby, and the other is a gray and white splotched tabby. End ID.

the point of this image is my cats- im not going to spend time describing the blanket, the couch, the stuff you can see in the background, bc it's not relevant to the image, and adds nothing.

ID. a photo taken through a rainy window at twilight, with the camera focused on the raindrops on the glass, so the lights in the houses across the street are out of focus. the lights reflect on the wet pavement in a warm yellow glow. End ID.

i took this the other night bc i thought it looked cool how blurry it was- id consider this more of an "art" photo, so im describing the aspects of the framing etc that make it that- i wasnt just trying to show how rainy it was, but to take a photo in an interesting way, so those traits are "worth" describing.

ID. a photo of an acrylic painting done on a cardboard packing envelope of a city street at sunset, all the building windows reflecting gold. there are purple fluffy clouds in the sky, lit from below with peach and gold. the USPS tracking number barcode is still visible in the gap between houses at the end of the street. the brush strokes are very visible, the perspective is wonky, and the orange underpainting is visible at the edges. End ID.

this is a new ID for something i painted and already posted and i dont feel like getting the old ID. medium, style, and specific details i think are important are included. the perspective being wonky is a bit of a value judgement i wouldn't make about Other people's art, but it's my own and i think its an important detail so!

ID. an edited catcrumb comic, showing a simple mspaint illustration of a cat happily sorting things into piles with the caption, "sort sort. i love to arbitrarily sort." the cat has been colored in gray and its ears have been colored like homestuck troll horns, and the sorting piles replaced with some classpect symbols. End ID.

this is a good example of a edited image- its important to give (to some degree) a sense of what the original image was, say that its edited, and describe the changes. i dont need to list the classpect symbols i put on there, bc its not relevant to the message of the image- it would do nothing but make the ID longer.

oh- and to cap off the post- here is cyber woman with corn:

ID. a stock photo of a white woman in a futuristic silver and black wraparound visor, wearing a silver bodysuit and cradling an ear of corn near her face and smiling slightly. End ID.

#asks #anonymous #image descriptions #i hope this helps!#long post

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theriu · 6 months

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River Reads Midnight Sun

Chapter 2: Open Book

In which Edward faces his fears and spends an agonizing amount of time hyperfixating on Bella.

<-Chapter 1

So we jump into chapter two AND next week, as it has been six days since Edward (shockingly) succeeded in leaving town forever (citation needed)! He is chilling (ha) in a snowbank, staring up at the stars, which are truly magnificent. Or he knows they would be, except he can't quite see anything except Bella's face. Yes, the girl has haunted him straight to (checks location on a map) oh he's in ALASKA, okay! I wasn't sure where Denali was, but I was PRETTY sure even Edward couldn't drive a car to Russia. (You'll see why I considered Russia in a minute.)

Anyway, the "unremarkable" face of this girl he's literally never spoken to directly has been haunting him for six days, which is indeed troubling. While he is brooding on this, the thoughts of a new character come leaping towards him. This is where we meet Tanya, a vampire with silver skin, blonde-but-almost-pink curly hair, amber eyes, and full lips. Mary Sue Tanya is stunning and exquisite, at least from Ed's memory, since he still can't see past the face permanently branded on his eyeballs.

So anyway, Mary Sue Tanya does a cannonball into Ed's snowbank, burying him alive with snow but not burying the image of Bella. It becomes clear that she has been crushing on Ed and is sad he will be leaving soon and doesn't return her affections, although he is very polite and gentlemanly about it.

(Honestly, I liked her well enough until we got to the "I'm not used to rejection" line, and then she starts sifting through the memories of all her human male conquests next to the actual mind reader who she is attracted to, to which I say WOMAN REALLY??? I don't think making the guy you like EVEN MORE UNCOMFORTABLE than he's already admitted you kinda make him is an effective way to gain his affections?!)

ANYWAY, thankfully they get off THAT subject quickly and have a really quite nice conversation, wherein Ed apologizes for getting her hopes up by coming to her home territory and Tanya tries to be a good friend. We see a mention of her "long-lost Russian accent," thus my uncertainty about location, and she tells him she knows he won't keep running from his mystery problem because he's the type who faces things head-on. Mary Sue TANYA then runs away across the snow, so light and fast she doesn't even leave footprints, suggesting a connection between vampires and wood elves.

Encouraged by this pep talk, Gary Stu Edward also gets up and runs footprintless across the snow, determined to be brave and go back and face those "bewildered chocolate-brown eyes," and hopefully not eat the girl attached to them.

SCENE CHANGE!

Edward's back in town, and his three vampire siblings/classmates are huddled around him as they head into the lunchroom, being quite adorably protective, honestly. Alice is trying to foresee any problematic eventualities, Jasper thinks it's funny that EDWARD is the one everyone's fretting over instead of him, Emmett is acting like a bodyguard, and Ed is just exasperated with all of them.

To his surprise, nobody at school is thinking about them, suggesting that Bella didn’t blab about his black murderstare from last chapter. After all, a normal human would have asked around about it, because humans and especially teens all like to feel NORMAL and FIT IN and be a "featureless flock of sheep" and WOW, should I be more annoyed at Ed or the author for this intense bias against high schoolers?! But of course Bella isn't like those OTHER kids, she doesn't do things like talk to people when something weird happens!

About this time, Bella walks in and Alice is all, "Act human!" To which Emmett responds by taking out the snowball he compressed into an ice chunk with his superstrength and chucking it at Alice, who casually deflects it across the room at superspeed, where it cracks a brick. This does, ironically, draw attention away from them. Everyone is annoyed at Emmett, which is fair, but also, ALICE COULDN'T YOU HAVE JUST CAUGHT IT INSTEAD OF POTENTIALLY SHOOTING SOMEONE?

Ahem. So Bella's in the lunch line, and Mike Newton, Regular High School Guy And Insignificant Human Rival, is worried about her. Ed starts also worrying about if she might be sickly, what with her translucent skin. (Are we 100% sure BELLA is human?!) The vampires do a slightly better job of acting natural, and Edward decides to refer to Bella as “Bella” and not just "the girl,” "as if she were the only girl in the world," which is HILARIOUS considering where we all know this is going!

After eavesdropping on Bella and Jessica whispering about him looking at her (Bella thinks he's mad at her, after the whole murderstare incident), Bella hunkers under her hair and avoids eye contact, although Ed thinks she keeps twitching like she WANTS to look at him. Then, at long last, lunch ends and everyone starts going to class. There is another internal struggle while Ed reviews what all of his vampire family members have advised about this situation. (Emmett sounding the least helpful, as he has apparently encountered two such delicious-smelling-people incidents that... uh... sound like they did NOT go well?) But Ed is determined to prove to himself that he has the self-control to sit through biology without murdering Bella, so off he goes.

(By the way, Rosalie complains she doesn't want to have to move because they're almost finally out of high school. Again, why are you pretending to be high school students?! It's not like you'll age whether you're there or not?! HOW DOES THIS HELP YOUR COVER??)

Edward gets to Biology to find Bella at their table, doodling randomly. He decides to introduce himself. He gets briefly lost in gratuitously detailed descriptions of her eyeballs and how they are simultaneously like chocolate and strong tea, and how could anyone so frail be deserving of his unwarranted hatred last week? He's also holding his breath, but has enough air in his longs for a reasonably lengthy conversation AND a short laugh, during which Bella is... surprised/startled that he called her Bella? Because her dad introduced her to everyone as Isabella? But she's apparently told multiple people since she got here that she prefers Bella? So he probably could have learned that even without his super vampire eavesdropping powers? WHY is this weird enough to be suspicious, and HOW does it indicate she is intuitive?

Well, the book and Ed believe she is insightful and intuitive, so I guess we should just go with it. Ed does eventually needs to breath so he can talk, and even though just breathing through his mouth is like tasting the FIERY COALS of her deliciousness, and their brief moment of making skin contact is like an ELECTRIC SHOCK, he manages to continue acting normal.

By the way, along with being unconventionally if lopsidedly pretty and smelling delicious, Bella was also in advanced-placement biology at her previous school and Knows Science! Edward realizes this must mean she is ESPECIALLY intelligent for a human, which of course makes perfect sense. After all, she was the first student in two years to look him in the eye long enough to notice they'd changed from the Murderstare Incident's I'm-going-to-eat-you black to today's calmer I'm-probably-not-going-to-eat-you-except-by-accident amber/gold! My friends, may I remind you this man previously admitted he has two medical degrees, a thing that probably required some amount of physically attending college. I really wonder if Ed's standards would be more realistic if he ever once SOCIALIZED WITH HIS HUMAN CLASSMATES.

In an effort to maintain normalcy, they talk about the weather. Bella does not like the cold and wet of Forks. She clearly does not like being in Forks at all. She is vague and grumpy about why she came here, and Edward is so obsessed curious that he may implode (this is the actual word used). We learn (agonizingly slowly) that her mom remarried—and no, Edward, Bella DOES like the guy, he's nice and a minor-league baseball player; and no, Edward, her mom DIDN'T send her here, SHE sent HERSELF here so her mom could happily travel with her step-dad rather than unhappily stay home with her! Ed is certain by now that Bella "isn't like other humans" because he keeps guessing her story arcs wrong and she's just so CONFUSING and UNPREDICTABLE, and this can't possibly be because he's about 100 years out of practice having a normal conversation without a cheat code into the other person's brain.

(Okay, to be fair, there are at LEAST two moments of self-awareness where Ed wonders if he'd be this bad at reading everybody without his mindreading powers. We should give him points for that.)

But despite his difficulties, he DOES figure out that Bella is unhappy, mostly by her sending out signals that a rhino could decipher. When he confronts her with this observation, her response is, "So?" And after meditating on this for an unusually brief paragraph, Ed realizes THE ANSWER:

"She was selfless."

I'm sorry, guys, I need to break for a second, that's the first part that made me laugh out loud. Can someone lend me a combine to harvest all this corn.

(Side Note: As previously stated, I have not read the books or watched the movies, so I could be biased by the negative side of the fanbase. But my general impression of Bella has not lent itself to "selflessness." BUT, it is only chapter two and I am only going off of general hearsay! The amount of poorly concealed disgruntlement is not impressing me, though.)

Anyway, Ed guesses that she doesn't really like her situation but doesn't want people to KNOW she doesn't like it. He continues to marvel at how positively he feels towards this girl, how discerning she is, how *cough* selfless she is, not like an "average martyr" who would actually tell someone she's not 100% happy with her SACRIFICE. Bella gets annoyed, which Ed finds amusing, so there's another adjective for the list. But then she says she's annoyed because she's so easy to read, and Edward can't believe this, because he's never had to work so hard to read someone before! Again, this couldn't possibly be because she's the first person in 100+ years whose mind he can't read!

By the way, Bella also seems to be oblivious immune to the usual red flags normal humans feel around vampires! Ed tries smiling dangerously at her, but the teacher breaks up their conversation with actual classtime, so he gets to angst for a few paragraphs about why he shouldn't find this girl interesting and how dangerous this is for her and yet how MUCH he wants to know more about her. And also trying not to kill her when her thick, black hair flips in his direction and drives his vampire nose bananas.

He books it as soon as the bell rings, having survived the encounter without murdering anyone but with so many new questions about this unremarkable, shy, frail, unmindreadable-yet-highly-face-readable, delicious-smelling, selfless, quietly disgruntled human girl.

(Side Note: I have learned a new word!

"Attar—a fragrant essential oil, typically made from rose petals."

Ex: "Again, I gasped at the clean, wet air outside as though it was a healing attar."

*loud sighing noises*)

So after that brief break, he goes to class with Emmett. Emmett, IMMENSELY HELPFUL EMMETT, asks how it went, questions if it wouldn't be easier to just get it over with, reassures Ed that everyone would understand if he messed up (GIVING IN IS NOT THE SAME AS "MESSING UP," EMMETT), and then vividly visualizes a time he experienced a really good-smelling woman and ate her. Between his earlier blasé-ness about not "wallowing in guilt" over past mistakes and this section's lack of anything indicating regret about that incident, I take back any nice things I might have said about this guy. Emmett, YOU. ARE. THE WORST.

It's so bad that Ed has to bolt out of class AGAIN, although it doesn't help that Emmett follows him and continues to suggest maybe Ed should just get it over with if it's so bad, can Alice or somebody please come punch him. Ed finally gets him to leave and hides in his car. Then, "like an addict" (his own words), he searches the whole school for thoughts about Bella. From his car. My GUY, just how UNREASONABLY powerful ARE your mind radar skills???

He finally locates Bella in gym class, because Mike, who is mad about Ed talking to her, is thinking in logical, complete sentences (as one does) about how satisfied he is that Bella doesn't seem interested in Edward. He also conveniently remembers her asking "what was with" Edward last Monday (after the Deathstare Incident). So apparently Bella isn't QUITE abnormal unique enough to stay totally silent when she encounters a weird thing (not that Edward notices). Ed's response to his annoyance over Mike's satisfaction is to blast "violent music," which seems the opposite of helpful to me.

We end the chapter with Bella coming out of school and heading to her rusty old truck while Ed watches her creepily from his car. She almost hits another student's car when she locks eyes with him, and Ed has to laugh at her sudden increased driving vigilance, as if she might be DANGEROUS! Because of course it's RIDICULOUS to think that BELLA could be dangerous to ANYONE in ANY vehicle, as if the driver's physical frailty has any bearing on the damage a truck can do when crashing into cars or non-vampires at speed.

AND SCENE!

I'm gonna be honest, guys, that one was a couple degrees more agonizing than the first chapter. I dread how much more I'm going to hear about Ed's conflicting desires to eat Bella and be attracted to her simultaneously average yet fascinating allure. She's just so unusually unique and smart and intuitive and selfless and shy and frail and inspires protective instincts, you see, and she's not like ANY OTHER human he's ever encountered, even though we have evidence now that sometimes certain vampires just find certain humans irresistibly delicious, and we can probably extrapolate that those humans were somehow immune to vampire powers, too.

I also highly question Bella's above-average "martyrdom," considering she dropped her guard pretty fast around the cute stranger and basically broadcasted how unhappy she is with her decision, which makes it feel a bit like she did what she did so she could feel good about herself rather than because it was the best thing to do? Being selfless doesn't mean COMPLETELY ignoring your own needs, or justify using your good deed as an excuse to have a poor attitude. Of course, considering that half her traits that Ed notices and marvels over are actually fairly normal, I don't think any of us feel a strong need to trust his assessments of her character.

Next up is CHAPTER THREE: RISK. I'm sure it will feature Edward being very level-headed and undramatic. I think I need to build my endurance back up for this one. (And thanks for the likes and comments so far, they really help keep me motivated! =D)

Chapter 3->

#River reads midnight sun #twilight #vampires #edward cullen #bella swan #satire #literary analysis maybe?#My word there are 29 chapters and an epilogue #Lend me your strength yall #River reviews

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bittersweetresilience · 8 months

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i got another of those fic author self rec asks a month or two ago and i didn't know what to do with it at the time so now i'm using it as an excuse to share fic meta about soulmate au.

lose it in the morning

i love having a recurring item come up in the beginning and the end of a story with a different meaning or light. in orbital departure, it's the dress. in dead air, it's the books. in lose it in the morning, it's the shoes.

so we start with adrien tripping over his untied laces. he's a bit ditzy. he's the carefree older runaway from home type twin in the graham de vanily lineage. he has his shoes on because he wants to be active and moving and free but he isn't fully prepared for what that means. laces not done up.

but émilie wants to protect him and keep him in the bubble of her love. that's her whole thing. that's what most of the fic is about. so by the time she's worked her magic, we return to the shoes, set neatly by the bed. émilie took them off him because he's safe at home and she doesn't want him running around, and she was careful doing it, too. but she knows there will be a time when he puts the shoes on again because that's just the way he is. so she ties his laces for him. insulating him from the possibility of the fall. and speaking of...

dead air

what do you know, félix is reading a book in this one and its name is the fall. brief interlude where i talk about félix and camus. there's something that grips me so much with félix and absurdity and meaning in meaninglessness and antifascism, of course. l'étranger, la peste, le mythe de sisyphe... yes. all of this.

la chute specifically is a series of monologues by someone who calls himself a judge-penitent and spends his time talking to strangers about how his life went downhill. it's a confessional but also a reflection on society post wwii, in parallel with the fall from grace in the garden of eden, and it explores themes of justice, social class, existence, and suffering. circles of amsterdam and he's in the seediest ring. the main character contrasts his fascination for feeling above other people with his trifling present reality. félix moment.

back to dead air. the two main literary references are this book and metamorphosis, which moonie could write entire essays about, it's so on the nose. monstrousness and alienation and miscommunication and all that. but with the fall, what i meant to implicate was that by making the realization of monstrousness, adrien would be on the precipice of something life altering, as félix once was. so we start with the fall as the set up, and then clarify what the precipice is: metamorphosis. monsterhood.

by the end of the story, félix has recontextualized his relationship with adrien, and they're joking about adding adrien's antics to félix's essay on metamorphosis. but what we end the story on, what félix focuses on at the close, is the fall again... because even though adrien is adding to the depths of his struggle, which félix already finished last week, what félix is thinking about is what this means for adrien's precipice and his impending fall.

orbital departure

i've already rambled a bit about émilie as a manipulator in this post but i could go on about her as a foil to félix for days. as i told autumn, both she and félix want to protect adrien and go about it in misguided ways. for émilie, it's a ring. for félix, it's a secret.

their conversation in orbital departure is theoretically about félix's abuse, but really, it's all about adrien. and félix is fine with this, because he loves adrien, and émilie is thinking of adrien, and félix trusts his aunt. but right from the beginning he subconsciously wishes émilie would be thinking of and wanting to protect him too. and part of it is mixed up with how she and his mother have the same face. so that's what brings us to our central image, the dress.

émilie's dress is impressionistic and painting-like and light and free and happy. it's a visual representation of who and where she is in her life and his. it distinguishes her from amélie. noticing that is, in a way, comforting. moreso the more uncomfortable félix feels.

félix is touch starved, and émilie touches him the same way amélie cradles his face.

this is my favorite line from this fic and it gives me feelings i can't put into words. just kidding. i will. félix is a child who was forced to grow up too quickly, so what he means here is that he's a scientist because he's advanced enough in his education to be one. but to the reader, he just sounds like a kid with an idea of a dream job. he doesn't have any context for what émilie is trying to say. he hasn't yet been shaped into the person he is in the show, someone who claws for knowledge and power and control. he's at a disadvantage and doesn't even register this because he's a child who implicitly believes in émilie. a scientist is the best hypothesis he can come up with for what she means. and émilie agrees with him, but turns it around and describes him as the project instead of the person, as if that's what he said in the first place. a joke that only she's in on, that she's telling to herself.

i have thoughts about félix being called clever all his life. it's the gifted child complex. it's the manipulation. and émilie saying he's a gift. well. in more ways than one, he sure is.

when émilie takes félix's arm at the end of the fic, she is literally and metaphorically allowing him to share her burdens. but it's phrased as though she is letting him do it, rather than leading him to. throughout the fic, she fashions herself for the conclusions she wants to see.

makes you think about her silly, untimely dizzy spell.

follow up meta.

#miraculous ladybug #🌃#sentitwin soulmate au #emilie agreste #adrien agreste #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #I WROTE SO MANY WORDS. AND FOR WHOM #the answer is for me and when watership down and swear to the earth that i will keep it are published there will be even more #ml fanfic #ml meta #ML FANFIC META

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darthvaderofmiddle-earth · 5 months

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I just wish I had someone who appreciated my original fiction the way I do. Someone, just 1 person, who would read my own universes and be inspired and want to partake in them and their lore. A single person to read what I make up from my own mind, and appreciate the effort I put into it genuinely and wholely. Instead, it's just my fanfiction, which I don't really write much of, that garners attention. Every piece that takes place in established universes, gets way more likes and reads and attention, versus what I pour my entire heart and soul and life essence into coming up with all on my own, which gets none ever at all. It doesn't matter if I tag and reblog the story 50 times, all 50 notes are from my reblogs and not 1 person even gave it a like. I've paid for advertising my books on multiple platforms. I've shared everything I've ever written as a rough draft for free on my pages so people can get interested in the final product. But no one even looks at those ads, or at the free 5,000+ word stories I write, let alone buys anything from me... I'm seriously pissed... My original ideas are creative, unique, and epic. And nobody cares.

Want to read about the legends of gigantic robots the size of mountains, which were piloted by people who, when they died, they'd lay down in empty fields in their mechs and pass peacefully as nature grew over the mech and turned it into an actual mountain? Go read my dream of the Titan Mechs, then.

What about a man who loves another man he can't remember? And every day the two meet by chance, one angry that he keeps crossing paths with someone not of his realm, and the other frustrated he can't remember this man at all but has a connection to him? And they search for a way to remain in each other's hearts and minds across dimensions that won't allow for such a romance as theirs to prevail? Go read Forgotten Magick, then.

What about sentient robots called Kydons whose queen forged a sword long ago that could control all technology anywhere in the world, and when she died, she hid the blade where nobody could reach it for fear that someone would use it to end her world? And Humankind rises up to find that blade believing the spearhead of the hunt will build something great for Earth with it, only for one Human to find out that spearhead is planning to ruin both Earth and Antu'rok and all life to rebuild everything in his image as the one ruler? So that single Human who found this out must betray his people and find the sword with the help of the Kydons to get it before the spearhead does? Go read my excerpt for Golden Horizons, then.

Are you curious to see how a single man serving Death goes on to become a god of all things good and righteous by inheriting the power of an ancient god who he freed from control of a wicked warlord and then, with said powers, kills to free the universe from falling into an empire of wrath? Go read Ascending Death, then.

Maybe you'd be interested in a universe where the world is made from four giants, all of whom embody a single trait, and when one giant chooses to make Humans, Death, in a jealous rage, casts a plague upon them all in attempt to end them, and one lone Human goes on a quest to find Death and beg for a cure? Go read A Means to an End, then.

Perhaps you'd like a world where Dwarves and Humans once existed, but the Dwarven mines collapsed and all Humans thought Dwarves to be extinct? And for centuries, the stories and evidence of Dwarves faded out until they were nothing but legend? But one Human man is determined to prove the existence of Dwarves, and find out if any are alive still or not? Go read the story of The Forgemasters, then.

And I have infinite more universes to look into, if you're ever curious. I'm always coming up with more and more of them, by the day. Please, support a small original fiction author, and, even if none of these appeal to you, go ahead and share because you never know who might just be interested!

#original fiction #fantasy #high fantasy #sci fi #mech #mecha #dwarves

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nanowrimo · 2 years

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Four Traps that can Kill your NaNoWriMo Novel

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Dabble, a 2022 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an easy-to-use writing tool that lets you organize, plot, and create amazing stories. Today, Dabbler Robert Smith shares some tips on how to avoid some common writing pitfalls:

Writing a novel is a journey that can be fraught with peril, challenges, and obstacles. Like any good adventurer, it’s best to be prepared for the traps that lay ahead.

1. Distractions

We’ve all been there: we planned out time to write, but then macaroni explodes in the microwave and all that time is suddenly gone. Or maybe that’s just me.

Regardless of the pyrotechnic capabilities or your cheesy pasta, you’ve probably found yourself distracted from writing before.

There are tons of studies proving how distractions tear down our ability to perform. The best thing you can do is remove as many distractions from your environment as possible. Here’s how to do it:

Set up your writing space to be boring (but not uninspiring!).

You can’t write effectively with a movie on.

You can’t write effectively while talking to someone.

You can’t write effectively while cleaning up macaroni.

Leave tech elsewhere.

You don’t need your phone while writing (unless you’re writing on it).

Hide your most distracting items far away from your writing space.

Turn off pop-up notifications on your laptop, especially email.

Set your writing app to focus mode.

You just need to be alone with your words and notes.

Dabble automatically fades to focus mode when you write.

2. Perfectionism

This one can get the best of even the most experienced writers. When you’re writing a draft, let it be a draft.

Some people will have a higher tolerance for their own grammar mistakes than others. But, if you find yourself grinding to a halt each writing session just so you can rephrase each sentence to achieve beautiful prose, you’re probably letting perfectionism kill your novel. Here are some tips to get past perfectionism:

Turn off grammar and spell check.

I know that this sounds blasphemous, but it really can help with momentum.

You can toggle these on and off super quickly in Dabble.

Set some “no backspace” time.

This one can be even scarier than the last.

This strategy also gets easier with practice.

3. Imposter Syndrome

So you’re all set for those words to flow and that book to come to life. Then even more macaroni erupts in the microwave. You don’t know where all this pasta keeps coming from, and suddenly you’re convinced you’ll never be a writer.

Okay that might just be me again, but you know what I’m talking about. Especially with creative endeavors, imposter syndrome plagues our minds. Here are some tips to get past it:

Read more drafts.

You are probably comparing your work in draft form to completed novels.

Find a writing group to read more drafts and gain community support.

Look up what your favorite authors have said about the drafting process.

Edit your work.

If you’re having trouble believing you’re a good writer, take some time to polish your writing.

This might help you prove to yourself that you’re better than you think.

Be careful not to let this kill your writing momentum.

4. Messy Process

We’ve all been there: notes, pages, and ideas all spread between desks, journals, and apps. It can get messier than a (two-time) macaroni-covered microwave.

Have you ever had an amazing idea, written it down, and then never found that note again? I know I have.

It’s worth taking the time to consider the time cost of each step in your process, from generating ideas to editing your manuscript. Here are some tips:

Write down each step in your process.

Look for steps that can be condensed

Look for better processes

Keep everything in one place.

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mariamariquinha · 10 months

Text

Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Thirteen (Part 1)

(I don’t know if I’ve already used this gif... sorry :/)

Summary: Decisions were made.

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: Bad words, violence, ~ daddy issues ~, mentions of brothels and prostitution, slight mentions of political conditions from the period, trauma, nightmares and people drinking alcohol 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: And yeah, I needed to split in two parts. There’s no huge cliffhanger here because I know how slow I can be while writing, so let’s just say that this is a... prelude.

I mentioned that before, but now it’s more than official. This story have 2/3 chapters left, which makes me sad-happy-satisfied-unsure. Let’s see where it goes from then on, huh? Love ya!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

----------------------------------

There was this boy with green eyes and good grades at school. He used to like History and Sociology, but everyone knew he had a tendency for something more than teaching. Without a mother, though, no one would be surprised if he turned into one of them.

Since his childhood, ‘them’ became a fear. ‘Them’ became easy money but almost a vow to a cause - the parents used to keep the kids at home after 10pm, turn off the TV when the news were too desperate or visceral. He might’ve even met Virginia Vallejo during his college years, after all the communist mess, and recognized her when Pablo turned into a thing. She was there. Always had been. Sometimes he wondered if her name would be marked on books like those he liked to read in school for choosing a side.

If he was an adult during the communism time, he would be one of them. His abuela talked about this a lot, but never in a depreciative tone. She knew better than to be on the side of the ones who took a lot from her. Because of this, everytime someone asked about Escobar or the gringos around the country, he never had an answer - because Pablo wasn’t a communist, but the other side wasn’t good either.

His abuela passed the year before; cancer. Being a doctor, he felt bad for not being able to help, for not doing enough to give her more time. There was nothing left.

That night, he did an exception to watch the TV. It wasn’t Virginia Vallejo nor any other journalist there. It was him. And he was angry because it was him. Him, with all the pomp and style and the face of someone he could recognize in the mirror, using such big words like ‘peace’ and ‘justice’ as if he knew a thing about honorable feelings or true promises.

At the end of three days in retreat, with resentment bubbling up inside him, he was in the supermarket when he saw her for the first time. Any detail that might have crossed his imagination didn't do this woman justice; he only knew her by a small fraction of guesswork and, in the end, by genetic bliss, she looked nothing like him. But he knew it was her. He fucking knew.

--------------------------

The decision came in a thoughtful, perhaps even calculated way. On the way, he had attended Comuna 1 and heard someone say that some time before, some American agents had passed by there and one of them almost died. A woman, strong enough to take the brunt, someone who became an exception - with all the lukewarm hope that existed during the days after that meeting in the supermarket, he felt afraid that she would become a target and lose everything again.

There, as he walked out with the lab coat and a suitcase of equipment, he looked up to see the armed kids on the rooftops, wielding weapons longer than their arms and staring blankly. He remembered his mother, when he found her after a long time in a corner of a border bordeaux to the point of overdose, and how he had left her so far away from himself as a way of forgetting that disturbing image.

He saw Escobar's painting on the wall. He saw the children again.

The letter would reach her in less than a day.

--------------------------

“You really are different from your father.”

The comment made you roll your eyes, but for some reason you didn’t engage in her provocation. Rejecting the cup of coffee was more of a personal preference than any judgemental decision - you already had the privilege of being able to talk with Noonan without so much bureaucracy.

Still, she didn’t take offense to the declination. She smiled, sat comfortably on her seat.

“I like to keep it all professional.”

“Doesn't the environment seem professional?”

“The office? Oh no, the office is really fine,” You nod your head, making a show of crossing your legs and faking interest. “I don’t want to elaborate and take more of your time but… The decoration is… neat.”

“Thank you.”

When she openly invited you to come by, you knew why. Perhaps dinner happened. A comment. She was informed about Juan Marcos, in that sarcastic voice your father had. Perhaps Noonan needed to be sure. You weren’t like him, of course, and certain things needed to be contained even if you knew the metrics and weren't childish enough to mourn so much about the systematics. What you could tell, for sure, was that your father always sold you low, so she decided to make her own assumptions.

“... Thinking about the politics of it all-”

“I’m not into it.”

“Diplomacy?”

“Yeah, those… big words you use sometimes. I’m an agent. It’s basically my job to be at least 60% dumb for that stuff.”

Noonan smiled at your sarcastic tone, watching the way you just kept that neutral expression with a voice full of venom. It was risky, but she wouldn’t go too far.

“I just need to be sure we’re on the same page. I’ve seen your last report and it honestly worried me.”

“It wasn’t my intention.”

Perhaps the words ‘sabotage’ and ‘murder’ were the ones way too big for someone like Noonan or the fucking government of United States of America, but you still couldn’t get the need of such inconvenience because of one report from one agent. Everyone knew the operation and you had the obvious perception that the USA agenda didn’t include explaining methods of persuasion during these types of… conflicts.

“What we are doing here, this… job by all means, it’s something delicate. We have a lot in the game, suddenly because there’s this inconvenience and we can’t get rid of it.”

You kept quiet. The lack of reaction made her blink a few times in expectation, then sigh in defeat as if you needed to say something.

“I think you should understand that this isn’t just a question of who should do what. We need to win. And to win, we need a firm team, one that can deal with everything with resilience.”

That was the first time you felt threatened by any of them. Your differences with Carrillo, the target you all had behind your backs, the situation with Juan Marcos… It all could take your job, but it didn’t. That moment, when Noonan got back to her professional stance (the one she liked to use with Peña more often than not), you felt the shiver of having someone stabbing you on the back.

And to know that this person was your father just made you more aware of your tense nerves.

So you did something worse.

You played the game.

With a subtle movement, you caught the cup of coffee between your fingers and took a small sip.

--------------------------

You felt suffocated. Disgusted. You got this bothering itch from the insides, like a weed that wouldn’t leave your skin. Between leaving the building and going back to Medellín, you tried to pull the nicotine patch out of your arm at least five or six times. It didn’t work, though. And you knew you would feel bad if you tried to pull the thing off again, so you decided to stay as still as possible.

Which wasn’t much.

And as the days passed, as the raids went on and things kept happening at full speed, you started to feel harsh, difficult to deal with. You tried to bury that conversation as much as you could, but with every body found, every lead to take one more person down, you couldn’t react anymore.

When your mother called, you told her - she deserved to know because she would understand you. Then she sighed, probably scratched the back of her neck, and said something that made you warm and cold all together.

“Good thing you’re not like him or me. You’re a third thing.” She commented. “God knows that if I was in your place, I would have made his life hell and I wouldn’t regret it.”

Your sleep schedule became worse. Almost every night, you saw Juan Marcos dead, then him coming at you ready to take your life, then that Montoya boy and the expression of fear on his face. Sometimes, it was Pablo. The bodies on that grave. Images of Peña, Steve and… Fuck, and Carrillo… All of them died. You would wake up crying. In the morning, you would sigh in relief to see all of them there, in one piece, alive.

But when it was your father, there wasn’t much to see.

That was something you’d never told her. That if you ever pictured your father being a fatality, you couldn’t have a proper reaction.

You woke up with a gasp, seated on the bed and sweating. The curtains hid nothing of the light coming from the outside, with a freezing breeze coming from it. You noticed, then, that what woke you physically was the sound of festive crackles from the street. There were laughs, kids giggling - it didn't take long for someone to scream at them and the noises ceased.

You still had your jeans on, unbuttoned and gripping your legs. That made you groan, passing your fingers through your hair and rubbing your eyes in frustration. On the clock, four in the fucking morning. You knew you wouldn’t sleep after this.

Defeated, you got up from the bed and made a beeline to the kitchen, where you grabbed a jar of water. Hands shaking, you didn’t dare to have your way with a cup - you drank right from the fucking jar. Then you gulped, gulped, gulped… Until it burned your throat and lungs. Until you coughed because some of the liquid spilled over your nose and chest, almost drowning you.

The floor was wet. From the water or your spit, you couldn’t tell, perhaps both. You didn’t know why you stared at it for so long, but that was it: you in the middle of your kitchen watching the water spot wetting your feet.

Your hands were still shaking.

--------------------------

You felt the ground first - the stiffness of the floor, the dirt from the road, the burning sensation from abrupt contact.

In the end, when they took you to the hospital, there wasn’t much to see. You left with a bruise on your forehead, another on your cheek, then some on the body and the shame of having been hurt by falling from a roof. At least with Juan Marcos you had the thrill of a good hand-to-hand combat story.

How stupid of you, having made a mistake and found the concrete alone, out of pure distraction.

Carrillo sent you small glances during the whole process - always checking, always aware of his surroundings. He didn’t come closer, though. He didn’t even ask. You felt stupid again, because you wanted him to have a reaction, at least one with just enough warmth as the first time you got injured.

“You know-”

“No, I don’t know. And for the sake of my job, I would rather not know.”

You didn’t raise your eyes from the letters and envelopes in your hands to give your father the satisfaction of a glance. He was there, standing in front of your desk, both hands inside his pants pockets and probably a smirk on his face. Again, you didn’t try a chance to look at him more than at his pristine shoes.

A letter from your mother. You could read at home.

“I think you have a dead wish.”

“Got this job, what can I say?”

FBI Report 1 on Cartel Activities in the States. You dropped the others on the desk to open this one, noticing how he started to look around the office nonchalantly. While he was distracted, you did give him a single side eye before going back to the paper.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Back to business.

A call-up from Messina. She could’ve just asked for her secretary to call and…

“Noonan told me you two talked.”

“Mm.”

“Using your privileges?”

“Well, it could be a privilege if I was the president’s daughter. You’re just a friend who might’ve fucked her once.”

Jorge Pérez. You frowned at that one, raising it closer to your face to get a better look on the handwriting. With a high level of importance, it said. Jorge…

“Since you’re good to use that smart mouth of yours,” The sudden proximity made you jump, but before you could react, he took the envelope from your hands, threw it on the desk and grabbed your arm harshly. “We better talk like in the old times.”

And it still hurted, the arm and the whole left side of your body. It hurted because you fucking fell from that fucking roof and he knew that, but since he was on the ‘old times’ side, there wasn’t a single care on his features or an hesitance to do worst with you. He was mad. From the grip he had on your arm, a touch violent.

When your body was pressed against your desk with force (because he pushed you), you hid your hiss of pain for the sake of raising your guard. You couldn’t do that during the old times, which was something he noticed - perhaps. There wasn’t the height difference, you weren’t looking at him from below and he wasn’t staring down at you even if he tried to. Eye to eye, with more than a scary face to stare back at him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He asked through gritted teeth, close enough to make himself heard without raising his voice.

“... You need to be more specific.”

“You fucking know exactly what I’m talking about, girl, you better be careful with your next choice of words.”

“Or what? You’re gonna ground me?” The teasing made him take a deep and warning breath. “I could use some days without going out with my friends, you know?”

“I was cleaning the mess of this stupid country before you could even clean your shit dirty ass, so you better know what you’re getting here,” He pressed, getting even closer to put a finger on your face. “Think you can be that person? To play dirty behind my back and thinking I wouldn’t know?”

“Was trying my best to be like you.”

He didn’t answer. You licked your lips, nodded. The guy was fucking desperate and taken aback.

You smiled.

“What? She took your toys away?” Again, silence. “I bet she said you’re here like a second chance. I even risk saying that the big guys needed a dog to do the dirty work and keep all the blame. You’re good at it, aren’t you? Being incompetent but leaving that good trail of blood behind your back? Doing that shit they’ll all deny or say it was a ‘collateral effect’?”

And then you said something you didn’t dare to comment on for years. Years.

“Or fucking whores around the country and having bastard kids with them?”

He reacted to that - of course he would. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed your jaw and pressed his fingers on the meat of your face, growling at the implication of such a harsh truth.

“You don’t want to do that…” A threat. “Being my daughter or not, I can fucking destroy your career piece by piece and take any remote chance of you to have a reputation, enough to make you spend the rest of your life cleaning bathrooms for a meal. Do you hear me?”

This time, you didn’t answer. He took that as indifference.

“I’ll do better. I’ll take Peña away, because I can do that. Perhaps they’ll like to know about Los Pepes and all of the other shit your partner is involved in. Maybe even Carrillo can go back to Madrid or whatever the fuck they decided to, since you’d been grown so fond of him recently.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the sudden revelation, which brought a devious smile on that face. His fingers flexed against your jaw and when you made the mistake of holding his wrist to stop the touch, he saw all the confirmation he needed to know, if he really needed one.

“Honestly, it took me a while to notice. But there’s the thing with him, maybe he thinks you’re worth the waste of time. You always proved yourself to be a very good warm hole for men in general, maybe that’s your best feature.”

Just then, after saying what probably had been stuck on his throat, he distanced himself. You didn’t move a finger to massage the area, watching him take a handkerchief from inside his pocket and wiping his fingers as if you had somehow soiled him.

“I killed Juan Marcos for you. I did it. You can just imagine my surprise to know that my own daughter, the one I killed for, decided to fight against me…” He said it without looking at you, still brushing his stupid fingers. “But I’ll take it, you know? You’re emotional like your mother and it disappointed me a lot.”

When he raised his eyes to you again, he measured your stance, the way your fists were clenched and your breathing intense. If you could, you would kill him right there, would… Fuck, you would make him swallow all of that humiliation. The rage was bubbling in your insides, ready to snap against him in a second.

Perhaps he expected you to. He wanted that excuse. And when you gave him nothing, he scoffed, putting his hands inside the pockets again and he sighed.

“Look at the bright side of things, sweetheart, we can have some similarities. These people, these… latinos… They can have you by the neck, anyone would fall for it and you wouldn’t be different. This we have in common. Just don’t be stupid enough to get pregnant or whatever, they don’t pay much for these guys around here.”

You felt like you couldn’t breathe until he left the room, unsure if what that could do to your sanity such was the tension and hatred he has instilled in you. When he did leave, not giving you a single glance back, the same clenched fists were raised to your eyes where you brushed them in hopes to prevent any tears from spilling out. Your heart was beating so fast, so incessantly, that you didn’t move a finger until you could collect yourself.

It was too overwhelming, too much, too much, too much…

You crouched down on the desk, hidden from whoever might be there so early in the day, and put your palms against your mouth. Eyes tightly closed, you stifled a sob as you felt the wetness of tears between your fingers. Any curse word that was on the tip of his tongue, any… unbridled urge to retort, it was all stuck inside your mind and in no time, during that breakdown, you thought the response would be as passive as your reaction.

But you were passive.

More than that, you let yourself be carried away by resentment and anger, thinking that you would be superior if you just kept quiet.

He did it, you thought. The asshole broke you.

--------------------------

One of the things about Carrillo was that he always made himself… present. After a considerable amount of time under him, on top of him or close enough to him, you could recognize scents, things intrinsic to what he was and wore and did and knew how to be.

You were virtually dating an almost full glass of lemon vodka when you smelled the perfume. At first, you thought it was some kind of hallucination, like your abused and lost mind trying to find traces of comfort (even if lying, even if cruel or momentary) to keep you going. After all this time, it was an automatic escape mechanism - if you were more politicized about it, you'd have a box of pills by your bed instead of your badge and your gun.

Just after a moment, when you felt someone sitting beside you and you could see his wrist watch there, your body reacted. You didn’t know if it was for resentment or just all the shit you’d been through with your father, but for a moment you wanted to avoid everyone - including him. Especially him.

Which was a fucking hypocrisy, given the place you were at.

“Did your father talk to you?”

And he didn’t ask in a inquisitive tone, like he was demanding for you to say the truth, but you felt taken aback by the neutral curiosity that filled his question and was splayed all over his face. With your silence, Horacio raised his eyebrows and got a good look at your confused expression.

“I heard he's been speculating about your physical state since the incident earlier today.”

“Just him?”

He tilted his head to the side, hiding a small smile.

“We all know you’re tough,” A shrug. “But I’m happy to know that you came back in one piece.”

“Happy is a big word, don’t you think?” You frowned, taking a sip on your drink while watching him raise a hand to the bartender.

“What would you rather me say?”

“Relieved.”

“That was quite fast.”

“I'm just saying I saved you a lot of red tape and paperwork.”

“What you're telling me is that your conversation with your father was much more intense than I thought.”

It made you lose what little humor you had left, enough for your face to visibly stiffen at the insinuation. Still, Carrillo was unaffected, but understood that maybe it wasn't the time. Rather than speculating further, he settled back on the stool when the whiskey arrived in front of him on the counter and didn't look at you for a while, as if he was just there to keep you company. This breath gave you time to observe him calmly.

He wasn't in uniform, but you doubted he'd just left the house to be right there, judging by the obvious sweat and dull expression. From what you heard, he's been in negotiation meetings with other minor sicarios who've been arrested, probably even Los Pepes if you pushed hard enough, but that was the kind of context you really liked to stay out of.

He certainly wasn't satisfied; sure enough, for one plus one, Carrillo was just frustrated by the way things had turned out and he could suddenly use alcohol. It was an ordinary bar, you were there when you decided to have good sex that would become delicately complicated. The difference was that there was less wear and tear, less fatigue. You two certainly weren't fresh for the job anymore.

And even so, Horacio continued to have this brusque, striking and not very delicate beauty. Unlike Javier or Steve, he hasn't lost any weight, and perhaps made good use of homemade meals to gain a little more physical mass. A very discreet bulge poked out on his belly, but that only meant he was healthy.

There was a soft smirk on his face, almost imperceptible, when you raised your eyes - he caught you staring. You noticed, of course, because you still were stupid enough to keep notes on him. It was inevitable, the way you and him stared at each other. Lights low, soft music, a ton of feelings all over the place - you couldn’t ride any other way.

“... Why are you here?” The question came in a low tone, breaking that spell for a moment. You blinked a few times, self aware of your body language, and gestured with the cup.

“Different motives, similar interests, I guess.”

“How do you know my motives?”

“Consider this my intuition.”

He nodded, not defeated but understanding. A silence hung in the air, more comfortable and cozy; it was easy to be more abrupt in your next comment, like a revelation suddenly caught in your throat by an instant memory of what had happened earlier that day.

“Did you know?” Like a spilled thought, you asked as if he would know what you were referring to. When nothing but a frown appeared on his face, you clarified with simplicity. “That we fucked. You knew my father knew about it?”

You could expect a lot of things, because Carrillo was very intuitive and certainly wouldn't run away from a confrontation if that were the case, just like your father wouldn't either. So when he looked even more confused and taken aback by the question, you reconsidered your position for a moment and turned your eyes to the drink in your hands, not knowing what to say next.

Horacio shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

“What did he tell you?” He asked then, more inquisitive this time.

“Nothing I didn’t deal with before. It's just… Sounded like something he could have guessed, like it was simple. I don’t remember a moment where we showed we were explicitly involved. Like the way we were, I mean.”

Casting a glance in his direction, you saw his jaw clench, then his face averting your gaze. Carrillo looked… angry?

“You know I don't have any hierarchical ties with him, right?”

“I do.”

“So why don't you tell me exactly what he told you?”

“Because it's complicated!” You bit back with exasperation. “Look, there was a reason why I’ve been so reticent about him being here. It’s not just his past or whatever the fuck he did here, we didn’t talk for years! Years, Horacio. And there’s a reason why it happened and it’s nothing like you can simply do something about. Honestly, I think it would be better if you didn't get involved.”

“It doesn't make any difference now.”

“Yes! I-” You stopped your own rambling and took a deep breath. “I know it. That’s the fucking problem.”

More silence. That made you aware of your tone, your mood, the way you’d been holding your shit together in such a pathetic way.

“I’m tired,” Your fingers massaged the bridge of your nose, elbow on the counter and a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “Don’t tell this to anyone, tho. I would like to finish my fucking job without people feeling pity of me.”

“But you’re telling me.”

“... Yeah. Well, last time you decided to pick my pieces we ended up making out. It’s better than whatever Peña would have in the cards for me.”

He smiled - no, you would rather say he just scoffed and took a long sip of his drink, as if it was the closest you could get in a good mood.

“Peña.” Carrillo repeated, head shaking. “What would he offer to you? Mm?”

The question made you frown but, again, you weren’t in the mood to read between the lines and he probably didn’t want to make his intentions a secret. There was a hint of jealousy there, a resentment.

“You know we don’t-”

“I know.”

You hummed, eyeing the drink in front of you to consider the situation. That could make you smile a little, even for a second, knowing that Carrillo couldn’t hide the stupidness of it all.

“... It would be less complicated,” The confession was uncomfortable, too realistic, enough to make you embarrassed. “Sounds like a convenient statement, in fact. Peña doesn’t have an accent, he doesn't have both feet and heart in this country either.”

He considered.

“Am I not American enough for him?” Carrillo asked with a discreet frown.

“Nn-nn.”

“Gracias a Dios.” Thank God, he murmured against his cup, which almost brought another considerate smile to your lips.

“I tend to be controversial, it gets me into trouble occasionally,” Your hand unconsciously massaged your chin, as if sensing other fingers pressing the skin there. It brought a lot of discomfort - enough to make you clear your throat to prevent any intrusive memory.

But that was the crux of the matter, what put you on your toes about Horacio Carrillo in the first place: he was so observant. And he noticed the way you caressed that area for a nanosecond too long, which made him shift in his seat to get closer, just a little longer, just to get a better look in the dim light.

First it was his fingers gripping your jaw, bringing your face up to his watchful gaze. Then, carefully, those same fingers descended on your skin, on the sensitive part, and you didn't hesitate to hiss in slight pain. When you averted the touch with a tilt of your head, looking around suspiciously, he became stern - serious. Mad.

“All this secrecy, this… Fear that people would find out about us. Now it all seems truly in vain.”

“It was the best for everyone. If Noonan or Messina find out, I-”

“They weren't there when he touched you.”

“We both know it doesn't matter here. Not with people like us.”

“Offenders?”

“Disposable.” You took his hand on yours, taking his touch away even if not in a harsh way. He was still mad, you could sense, but it was like Carrillo turned into a preoccupied mess.

“... If he ever touches you again, you will tell me.” An order, one you resisted the urge to roll your eyes for. “That's what a disposable person does, isn't it? A good one-on-one with a gringo would do justice to the title.”

That made you smile - truly smile. At the genuine tone, at the perseverance of his intentions. A surprisingly astute man with wills that went beyond the position he had and he was there, cutting the caress of your body for the discreet touch of your hand, watching your reactions with such attention.

You observed him in silence, elbow on the counter, hand supporting your head while taking the guy in. He was so stunning, you couldn’t quite catch which detail of his physiognomy you liked best. And there were other attributes on him, like his body and capacity, but maybe… The mouth? Chin? Cheeks? Brows? Hair? Eyes?

Looking in retrospect, it made some sense. The attraction, the bickering. Carrillo was made like that, built to be exactly the way he was, ready to accept the fate of his messy world with strong hands and the perseverance of someone who always tried hard enough until he didn’t need it anymore.

“You know what I need right now?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve been through hell since I woke up, my body is tired and… I need a shower. A good, warm shower, yeah? And then a decent night's sleep, which I haven't had in weeks.”

There was another beat of silent consideration from him, a peaceful and relaxed one.

“... I have a warm shower.” His voice came in a teasing tone.

“You do?”

“Mm-hm.”

You bit your lip, mouth hidden behind your fingers.

“Okay.”

--------------------------

His house seemed more receptive, perhaps because of the circumstances or your condition. You looked around the place that remained the same, with different furniture here or there, something that reminded you of someone passing by to clean or organize. Juliana, maybe.

The thought made you frown, even if that detail (or that piece of memory) didn’t make the place look less… homemade. You were unsure, however. Even if some part of you knew what you should be doing now while Horacio made sure all the windows and doors were still locked, you couldn’t move from your spot in the middle of the living room, arms hanging on your sides while you felt lost, even a touch numb.

“Hey.”

Carrillo was standing in front of you, searching for you even if you were there, not so focused, not deciding if he should get closer or not. You blinked a few times, suddenly aware of your recent marks and physical pains. He didn’t try to poke through it, tho - he gave you his hand, palm open to your eyes.

That touch meant more, like the first deep breath of fresh air.

There were the stairs, then the corridor. You prevented yourself from saying out loud about your legs or feet; a few grunts followed the way, but he decided not to comment as well. Horacio just kept going, assured the steps of someone who knew the place well. When you reached the room (his bedroom), there wasn’t time to observe the details of that place you knew from the past experience, because he took you to the other door, one you didn’t notice at first.

The bathroom was considerably huge, made for two and with some space for more. Wife, perhaps kids. You also tried not to imagine this life, this possibility that seemed real for him before you and probably before Escobar. Standing still, your mind tried to make you feel more pathetic when you didn’t move to undress, but again, Carrillo didn’t ask.

He opened button by button, careful with his moves and the fabric of your shirt, which wasn’t so clean and had seen better days. You observed his movements, stoic and precise as always, and when the shirt was finally off, he stopped. Of course you were aware of the bruises, the not-so-sexy bra and even less sexier shape of your boobs.

No, that wasn’t the reason why he stopped. You knew it wasn’t. And you felt so embarrassed all of the sudden.

“No, no-” His hand covered yours before you could hide something. “Puede que no seamos los mismos de antes, pero tú sigues siendo tú. Y lo quiero todo de todos modos.” We may not be the same as before, but you are still you. And I want it all anyway.

“... It's not what I look like that worries me,” You said. “It just seems unfair that every time we're together, there's some shadow of what we do. I don't want you to look at me and think about it.”

“But it's what we do.”

“And are you by any chance proud of every part of this?”

“Huh,” He scoffed, but not in mockery, tilting his head to the side and going back to his small mission, this time going to your belt. “Sería estúpido no arrepentirse de algunas cosas en el camino, ¿no crees?” It would be stupid not to regret some things along the way, don't you think?

“¿Siempre cambias al español cuando hablas de cosas difíciles?” Do you always switch to Spanish when talking about difficult things?

“Recuerdo haber dicho que me gustabas en inglés.” I remember saying I liked you in English.

And he did stop again, your belt and the button of your jeans opened. Carrillo did that to look at your face, observe any reaction from you, and all you could give back was the same taken aback expression you had earlier that night. Saying it in front of you, like that, mentioning that he simply liked you… It still sounded easier, but it also sounded safe.

“... Will it be a lonely bath? Or do you intend to accompany me?”

He tilted his head to the side again, shrugged, then decided to go back to his work with your pants.

“I’m not fragile, you know?” You said in a low tone.

“What I know is that there’s too many people aware of that information.” Carrillo didn’t look at you, but honestly it wasn’t necessary. He said what he said, so you wouldn’t try to bite back.

The silence, though, made him frown and finally raise his eyes to you. Just then, with his attention and heavy gaze, you noticed your own eyes were wet. You blinked a few times, shook your head. For some reason, or maybe for obvious ones, there was a big cloud of resentment surrounding you two all of the sudden - of bad decisions or just a touch of cowardness from your part. Horacio was hot headed, sometimes too impulsive for his own good; your father, quite the opposite, patiently waiting for the right opportunity to make what he thought was best.

“... I’ll take the guest bathroom. There’s probably something you can borrow from my wardrobe too.”

“Okay.”

“If you need anything-”

“Mm-hm. I know.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your temple - right above the bandage still hanging for dear life there. Took you a lot to move from there, to shake the warm touches from your body and mind, and a few minutes after he left, you rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands to keep any emotions from spilling over and finished taking off your clothes.

The water was hot, but not hot enough to be uncomfortable. You felt each drop washing your pores as if it were taking away pieces of your skin, as if all the dirt of the day had not been washed away enough even though this was your second shower of the day.

The skin on your jaw was irritated by how hard you rubbed it, trying to get something out that might not be coming off any time soon.

--------------------------

“... He said something.”

Carrillo raised his eyes from the small patterns he was tracing on your skin with his finger, observing you with curiosity. He had these comfy pants, the flip-flops laying on the floor, the basic shirt - it was like entering another world, seeing someone else instead of… him. But it was him, indeed. Domestic him. And after the dinner (the one he promised a lifetime before), he took you to his bed and made more compliments about you wearing one of his shirts.

Honestly, you didn’t want to bring it at that moment. You didn’t even want to make this a conversation with him, to remember whatever happened that led to that specific space of time where you found comfort in his arms, but that thing entered your mind like a plague and you couldn’t shake it out of your mind.

“‘Said he killed Juan Marcos for me.”

He didn’t react - not for the first few seconds. In the middle of that half-dark, warm room, with you two between his comfy sheets, Horacio let the information sink in, averting your gaze to watch his movements on the skin peaking through the collar of that old shirt. For a moment you even thought he wouldn’t say anything; for what felt like ages, Horacio Carrillo didn’t move.

You stared at the ceiling, then, that thought burning your insides like a fucking infection. That made you press, just a little, just to… feel something.

“Would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Kill for anyone.”

Carrillo sighed.

“I’ve been doing that for a living,” He argumented. “But that’s not the question, right?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I wouldn’t ask you to, though. Nor Javi or Steve or… him.”

“Well, I think we all know that too,” With a grunt, he adjusted his body to eye you from above, leaning on his elbow. “Killing in someone's name can be a lot if we weren't who we are, at least. In this kind of life, this is just a consequence or a detail that bumps into our routine.”

His words made you consider.

“Sicarios kill for loyalty and money, we kill for a solution... A father kills for his daughter for love and protection.” You pointed out, more like a reflection than a proper opinion. When you looked at him again, he waited for that conclusion with patience. “He didn't want to protect me, Horacio. He never did this, why would he do it now? To get some kind of leverage when he found out I put Noonan against him?”

“What?”

The realization on his face made you feel ashamed, as if all the days you've been beating yourself up about it materialized right there, in front of you, in the form of the disappointment that would stamp his face when he owned up to what you'd done. You waited, waited, waited… And when nothing came, you distanced yourself physically by sitting up on the bed, fingers playing with itselves while he just kept staring.

With a deep breath and a lot to say, you confirmed.

“She was always my father's friend, probably since I can remember. When she called me into a meeting, I figured he might have said something to arouse suspicion, to make her suspicious of my ability to do my job. I knew he was planting something there, waiting for the right chance to take me out of the picture. Not for protection, just… Perhaps he saw me as a problem, perhaps I am a problem.”

Carrillo listened with a neutral expression, which started to make you feel even more tense.

“I struggled a lot to do that, to have the least amount of respect without being in his shadow. Every day, in every single thing I've done since I chose this career, I've always been sure I wanted to be better than him. Realizing that he throws every shovel possible into our relationship has me panicking, especially since he's my father and he's trying to sabotage me for his own benefit.”

It's been a long time since you've done this - venting your frustrations. For some reason, you knew Carrillo wouldn't do anything with that information, at least nothing other than keeping it to himself. Being there with him, in that private universe, you were free to get it all out there, to expose an unspoken truth of hardship and cruelty. Of course, given the circumstances, that comfort would just be another unspoken truth between the two of you. A secret magnetism that made sense, as long as it wasn't said to the four winds, because you were never exceptionally good at it and it was evident.

You sighed in defeat, unsure of what that silence meant - condescendence, weighting, reticence. There was a vision of you before your confession and there was certainly another after it - it wasn't like you could justify yourself.

All that considered, it was a surprise when he reached over and kissed your cheek, subtly, just to get your attention. When you looked up, Horacio cupped your face in one hand and looked into your eyes, using the gentlest of caresses to gaze at you with a certain amount of admiration and affection. You probably had that same expression at the moment, because he couldn’t stop staring.

“I couldn’t judge him if his intentions were true,” He mumbled. “But mine are. Sometimes, my respect can blind me and I can be… obnoxious towards my feelings for you, almost… dumb. Perhaps. Perhaps you don’t even want to know that now, being here and going through this, but I would kill for you. Viviría por ti.”

I would live for you.

You looked into his eyes and felt a courage you only felt at the sight of a gun, or the sight of your father's eyes. It wasn't usual, it felt very uncomfortable, but accept the reality that he only considered it all a passing fever of passion rather than something that really had consistency.

There was no consistency in that life, nor in the fact that you met, crossed paths and exchanged a single word to each other - because no minimally consistent relationship could come from that reality.

“This can’t be,” You said, holding his hand with your palm. “You can’t do this to me, Horacio.”

“You didn't have that right either. Don't believe for a second I didn't think this was all crazy, all... una gran mierda,” His last words came as a whisper, as if he just confessed something serious enough to make him grab all of the circumstances inside his head.

Carrillo sighed.

“Juliana had never confronted me this way, she had never told me what she felt with such certainty. I spent a lot of time blaming her for this, but the truth is, being with me hurts. I'm a ticking time bomb, a static creature that lives by rules that I don't always believe in but that make me who I am. I'm a big bunch of beliefs that don't take me anywhere.”

“... But I did.”

He let the silence linger, your other hand passing through his face while he nodded.

“Yeah,” You could see, deep down, that he was on the verge of crying. Carrillo. Crying. Suddenly, he was that boy, pristine and full of feelings he couldn’t spill out for the sake of being well-behaved, of not building any more problems for his mama.

You never thought you'd witness it - or find sense in a man like that looking so torn apart for so long.

“And I honestly don't know what to make of it all.”

Ultimately, you realized as you took the initiative to give him a subtle kiss on the mouth, discreet enough to hear him sigh in relief, that it felt right because Carrillo lived in absolutes. Life or death. Right or wrong. To shoot or not to shoot. There was a weight there, a responsibility; all of a sudden, if you could, you'd take it all away from him because you… you needed it. From him? From his company? Of the feelings he caused? You couldn't tell, even while kissing him.

What you could say, for sure, was that a mess encounter led you to a difficult realization: that you loved him.

And you were afraid of it.

--------------------------

Next part’s snippet:

“What?”

He asked with a confused expression, but you couldn’t quite catch his question right away. With a hand in front of your mouth, you swallowed a sob and held that letter with a firm grip, afraid of it all being a lie or an illusion or… A trick. A fucking universe trick for your mind and soul.

You raised your eyes to Carrillo, gulping again to prevent any big emotion from spreading all over the place.

“... It’s… It’s Jorge.”

“And who is it?”

The words almost didn’t leave your mouth, as if you were scared of the consequences of just… saying it.

“My brother.”

------------------------------------

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@616wilsons

@nessamc

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@padbrookcottage

@mysoulisasunflower

#horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo #colonel carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo #female reader #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos #maurice compte

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no6secretsanta · 5 months

Text

Spring is Coming

From: @dragons-of-ara

To: @pigeonsimba https://www.tumblr.com/pigeonsimba

Author’s note: Happy holidays! I wanted to fulfill your request of having a Fantasy AU and cuddling. I tried to put in some miscommunication but I’m not sure how well I did. It’s not my strongest point when it comes to writing. This is loosely based on the book Sofi and The Bone Song. I mostly stuck to No.6 things so you wouldn’t need to read the book to understand this AU. Mostly the world idea and the ending were inspired by the book. Also the song at the end is the English lyrics to the Amier song ‘Haru wa Yuku.’ That’s also where this fic got it’s title. Hope you like it!

For as long as Shion could remember the city of Kronos had been trapped in a cycle of never-ending winter. The trees leaves had always remained bare and thick blankets of snow covered the ground rather than greenery. His mother had spoken about those times before. Her words painted beautiful images of a rainbow of flowers, the blue skies, the way the tree’s leaves would become red, orange and yellow in the fall. Shion had seen paintings of the other seasons but none of them seemed to compare to the images in his mind. As he worked in the back Shion couldn’t help but think of those beautiful images of spring, long for a time he couldn’t remember.Shion was grateful when his mother came to the back to take over the baking, pulling him from such thoughts. “Safu’s here,” Karan told Shion as he passed by to make his way to the front.Shion let out a sigh of relief at that. The bakery could always use an extra set of hands, one of the reasons Shion had never gone for higher education. The debt left behind by his father still weighed too heavily for his mother to be able to hire an extra set of hands around the bakery. And Shion had no idea what he would even do in the future, at least helping with the bakery was a short term goal. It wasn’t unusual for the bakery to be crowded. It was a place of warmth that offered food, both of which were harder to come across in Lost Town. Food distributions had less rations in them than the day before or so it seemed. “That was the last of the cherry cake,” Safu was calling at the line when Shion arrived up front. “If that’s the only thing you were here for then you can go now.”There were several grumbles and a few people choosing to yell swear words on their way out. However, Safu’s tone made it clear she was having no arguments, and that if anyone wanted to say something to her face she’d show them where the door was. “They’re gone already?” Shion repeated. “But mom made as many as she could and set a limit to one slice per customer.” “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s not like fruit is easy to get these days. When’s the last time you remember fresh fruit being distributed?” Safu responded. Shion couldn’t really argue with that. “If only spring would return then we wouldn’t have to worry about things like that.” An elderly man stood in front of Shion now. He spoke in a hushed voice so Shion could barely hear him. “You know my grandfather told me a story about a time when the world was covered in snow like this. He said that the saints carried spring in their voices. With a song they could make flowers bloom from the snow.” “Oh that sounds…”

Shion was thankfully spared from having to think of a response as the man ordered in a normal tone. As if he hadn’t just said something completely strange. The rest of the day seemed to pass in a daze. Shion tried to keep himself in the present but his mind kept wandering to what the old man had said. He swore he could almost picture the song being sung. Soft and warm like a lullaby“Hey space case! Don’t make me and Karan clean up by ourselves,” Safu was waving a hand in front of Shion’s face. “S-sorry,” Shion stammered out as he grabbed the can of trash and went out the backdoor with it, to drop it off in the alley. The cold winter air stung at Shion’s face. It was almost as if the world itself was mocking him for the daydreams of spring finally returning. That cruel whisper that said that something as simple as a song couldn’t save the world. He was pulled out of his thoughts again, this time by a hand that clasped itself around his mouth. “Don’t make a sound. Do what I say,” a voice purred in his ear. Shion nodded to the best of his ability. He couldn’t turn to see his attacker but the voice told him it was definitely a man. Shion’s gaze flickered to the door of the bakery, praying that Safu and Karan wouldn’t come out. “Good boy. I need bandages. And if you even think of alerting the authorities you’ll pay.” The hand was removed but the man’s presence was hovering close behind Shion, threatening him to do as he was told. “You’re injured?” Shion asked, whirling around to look at how bad the injury was. His eyes met the man’s and Shion couldn’t pull his gaze away. Gray eyes. They were not the same as the gray clouds that lingered in the sky during the day. Those clouds were cold and dull whereas these eyes were warm and full of life, full of fire. After a few seconds (though it felt like hours) Shion was able to look away from those captivating eyes to look at the injury. A nasty deep gnash on the man’s shoulder. Without proper treatment it would end up infected. “Do you know how to treat that?” Shion asked.”If not I can help take care of it but…” He couldn’t exactly bring him in through the door. “If I open that window would you be able to climb up?” Shion pointed at his bedroom window. It was a long shot but he couldn’t think of a better option. “Let me get this straight. I threaten you and your instinct is to invite me into your home,” the man said slowly. His face remained carefully blank, betraying none of what he was feeling. “You’re hurt,” Shion replied. “If you can’t climb it I can try coming back out. But it’s going to be harder for me to come out.” “And you can’t climb down the wall because…?” “I’ve never tried before. I’d probably end up breaking my neck if I did. Besides I’ll need to gather supplies, you can use that time to climb it.” “Unbelievable.” The man shook his head.“I’ll meet you up there.” Shion made his way back to the bakery where his mother and Safu were wrapping up the last bit of cleaning, wiping down the counters. Shoin felt a little twist in his stomach at making them do it all and promised himself he’d make it up to them later.“We were beginning to think that you weren’t coming back,” Safu said teasingly. Her expression changed to a more serious one at the look on Shion’s face. “Are you alright?” “Yeah I just ended up spacing out while I was watching the snow. It’s been a long day, I think I just need to head to bed. Safu will you be okay walking home alone?” Shion felt worse at the lie and the fact he was asking Safu to walk alone. “Well yes but-” Impatience and worry tugged Shion to the stairs. “I’ll see you later, have a good night!” He called to Safu.He was going to owe her big after this. He was quick to make it to his room and open the window wide open, shivering as a gust of cold wind invaded. He had to work quickly to gather everything before his mother decided to come upstairs. Thankfully the first aid kit in the bathroom was right across from Shion’s room. Returning with the kit and a towel Shion was shocked to see the man was already in the room. He was leaning against the bed, his cloak discarded on the floor. “I’m going to need to cut the sleeve to get to the wound.”The man shrugged. “Do whatever you need to do.”

As Shion applied disinfectant to the wound he was aware of the man watching him like a hawk. It took everything for Shion not to look up and get lost in those beautiful strange eyes. His brow furrowed as he forced himself to focus on the task on hand.“You’re weird just so you know.” “What makes you say that?” “I missed where it was ever considered normal to be kind to someone who threatened your life, especially when you don’t even know their name.”“It’s not like you know my name either,” Shion replied. The two sat in silence as Shion finished applying the disinfectant. “I’m Shion by the way.” “Nezumi.”“Nezumi?” That couldn’t be right. Nothing about him seemed very rodent-like. If anything he brought images of the sunrise after a storm. Shion pulled out a syringe next, flicking at it to make sure to pop any air bubbles. He could feel Nezumi leaning away from him. Glancing up he could see that Nezumi was staring at the syringe apprehensively. “What are you planning with that?” “It’s anesthetic, I’ll need to numb your arm before I stitch it.” Nezum scowled as he held his arm out. “At least you can pretend you don’t like this. I don’t know if I should trust you when you’re grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.”“Am I?” Shion realized now there was indeed a huge grin on his face. “Well it’s not everyday that I get to do something like this.” “How exciting for you,” Nezumi responded dryly. Shion ignored that and focused on giving several injections into Nezumi’s arm. Once he was done he leaned on the bed next to where Nezumi was already doing so.

“What happened to your arm? It looks like a gun wound but that’s impossible. The guards would never allow such a crime.” “Really? Because last time I checked I’m very much here. And sadly this is real too.” Nezumi gestured at his wound as he spoke. Shion bit his lip. “Ask it.”“Who shot you?”Nezumi gave a laugh with no warmth behind it. “Your precious little guard who’s supposed to stop this from happening.”“Your arm should be numb enough.” Shion announced as he pulled out the supplies to sew the wound. Thankfully this gave him something to focus on rather than Nezumi words. It meant Shion could ignore the way this information left his head reeling.“There we go,” he said once he was done. He leaned back to examine his work. Nezumi lifted his arm and turned it to get a better look at Shion’s handiwork. “Not bad. Seems like you actually do know a thing or two.” Shion started to say something but the words were lost when there was a knock on Shions’s door. Beside him Nezumi tensed and his eyes flickered to the door. Shion gave him a soft, reassuring smile before calling, “Yeah mom?” “Hi honey I know you said you’re tired but I wanted to let you know I made some soup for dinner. And there’s still half of a cherry cake left,” Karan called through the door.Beside him Nezumi’s stomach let out a loud gurgle.“Thanks mom.” It was taking Shion everything to fight back laughter at Nezumi scowling at his stomach. Apparently Shion wasn’t doing a good job because Nezumi’s glare turned to him. “If you want I can bring you some,” Shion offered as a peace offering.“Are you sure?” Shion nodded before making his way down the stairs. He got as much as he possibly could while still leaving enough for his mother. He could just give Nezumi his portion for tonight and tomorrow, it would be okay. Shion would be able to sneak a couple pieces of bread. Once he made his way back up Shion set the tray in front of Nezumi. “Sorry it’s not a lot but I hope you still like-”“It’s fine,” Nezumi murmured. “Thank you.” Shion watched as Nezumi devoured the food. Shion’s eyes kept falling to Nezumi’s shoulder. With nothing to keep his mind occupied the questions were finally becoming thoughts. “Why would the guard shoot you?” He asked once Nezumi finished his dinner.Nezumi set the tray aside and stared up at Shion so intensely that Shion had to look away. “Do you understand what you’re asking? This little city isn’t as perfect as you’d like to think it is,” Nezumi said. “There are things that you’re better off knowing. For your sake and for the sake of everyone around you.” Nezumi jerked his head in the direction of the door. “I see….” Shion didn’t, he felt more questions at Nezumi’s statement. “Don’t ask anything else. I’m going to sleep now, if you want to sleep in the bed tonight get in here now. I’m not going to deal with you waking me up in an hour or two when you get tired.”“You want to sleep in the same bed?” Shion couldn’t help how loud he asked that. “There’s still an eternal winter out there. It’ll be better to share body heat and stay warm while we have a chance to do so.” Shion wasn’t going to argue against that logic. Once they were both on the bed Nezumi put his arm over Shion and buried his face into the nook of Shion’s neck. “I forgot that living people are warm,” Nezumi muttered into Shion’s skin. *****“On my own, I wasn’t еven able

To make mysеlf vanish

How cowardly and selfish I am

Darkened by the shadow I can never redeem myself from

Is the place where we made our promise

The peak of the flowers’ blooming season.”The soft melody was being sung far away enough that Shion could only barely make it out. He didn’t leave his bed, or even open his eyes, out of fear that the song would stop. That this was actually some pleasant dream.“Unfeeling of both sin and love, spring goes on

The only sparkling lights here are the glimmers in the sky

Please, never grant me any undeserved forgiveness

I want to be destroyed, and I want to be remade

By your side"Shion laid still, hoping to hear more of the angelic voice. After what felt like hours the cold chill in his room was finally beginning to get to him so Shion reluctantly sat up. His hand brushed against the empty spot on the bed next to him.‘Nezumi, were you a part of that strange dream?’Shion scanned the room. There was still a tray with the dirty dishes on it. But the jacket that had been on the floor was now gone. The first aid kit was nowhere to be found either, even in the bathroom where it was usually kept. Shion slipped into the back alley where they had met. The snow no longer had any spots of red on it and Shoin couldn’t find footprints anywhere. Not even leading away from his bedroom window. But there was a small object in the snow right where those footprints should have been. Kneeling down Shion could see it was a small flower. An aster tataricus, Shion recognized it from a picture he had seen in a textbook.Plucking it Shion held it close to this chest. The words of the old man echoed through Shion’s mind. He didn’t know if Nezumi was one of the saints that the old man had spoken of or not. It hardly mattered at this point. Shion knew that one day he would see the ending of winter and one day he would meet with Nezumi again. ‘Thank you for this gift Nezumi. I’ll cherish this feeling forever.’

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #pigeonsimba #dragons-of-ara

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