#someday. someday i’ll finish this fic for you beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-ravening · 4 months

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*blinks* ...Michelle's Bday fic? ("It's a common name," she murmurs to herself, "so go ahead and put those hopes down.") (I have a doc on my desktop named 'For Shan' and no mistake about it it's something you will get someday. 😂 )

Thank you to everyone who tagged me in the latest round of the WIP game going around. I will not be participating this time because I never even finished answering my asks from the last time and it’s been dragging on my conscience ever since.

Speaking of which… Michelle! I’m sooooo sorry it took me this long to answer your ask from last year. Of course “Michelle’s Bday fic” was for you!!! You and me 🤝 starting bday fics for each other and not finishing them.

It was supposed to just be a small little hurt/comfort wound cleaning in the shower thing, but I didn’t get it done in time and I felt so self-conscious writing for you because your words are always so beautiful.

Anyway, I have almost 3k written but doubt I’ll be finishing it any time soon, so please accept this meagre offering of a long snippet (aka the first 1.6k of the fic).

Hope you’ve been doing well! Sending you love and kisses forever 💗💗💗

Three sets of heavy footsteps trudged through the front door of the safehouse, slow and lumbering in their exhaustion. The air around them was thick with the iron tang of blood and a persistent tingle of burnt gunpowder rattling around in their sinuses, as they slipped into the kind of quiet torpor that always followed a difficult mission seen to its end. Though it had gotten a bit dicey at times on this one, they’d earned the satisfaction of having completed their objective and made it back alive in one piece. Well, mostly in one piece, Bucky thought, running his eyes critically over Zemo’s broad back as the man stepped into the apartment’s living area ahead of him. There was a conspicuous tear in his beloved long wool coat, the fabric slashed and stained dark with blood below his left shoulder blade.

“All right,” Sam said, voice deep with weariness. “Let’s take a look at your back, Zemo.”

“Merely a shallow flesh wound. I’ll be fine,” Zemo demurred.

“Knowing you, that means they probably hit a major organ and you’re about to pass out on your own carpet,” Sam grumbled.

“Really, is there so little trust between colleagues these days?”

Sam and Bucky took simultaneous deep breaths and sighed heavily at the irony of this statement rolling off the tongue of this particular colleague of theirs.

Before Sam could come up with any further argument though, they were interrupted by a tinny sound blaring from somewhere in the depths of his leather jacket. It quickly developed into the sunny tones of a song Bucky only knew because Sam had once told him it was called “‘Fuck You’ by CeeLo Green… C’mon, man, you don’t know that one?” and only recognized from how often this personalized ringtone went off on Sam’s phone.

“Man, already? Doesn’t this guy have anything better to do than stick his nose up our asses after every mission?” Sam groaned as he fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen with his thumb to answer it. “Secretary Ross. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He turned to Bucky and rolled his eyes as he held the phone to his ear, no doubt listening to Ross droning on on the other end of the line. Putting his hand over the mic, he stage whispered to Bucky, “Take care of Zemo for a few minutes, would you? I have to deal with this,” and then he wandered off into the office and closed the door behind him.

Left alone with Zemo, Bucky glared at him, wanting nothing less than to have to babysit him in Sam’s absence. On the other hand though, he really didn’t want Zemo to die of organ failure today either.

“If it were serious, I wouldn’t be standing right now.” Zemo lifted his hands in that placating gesture he liked to do so much, the one that Bucky found particularly annoying when directed at him. But he couldn’t help noticing Zemo holding back a small wince of pain as his arms came up.

Bucky sighed. “There’s a whole lot of possibilities between ‘okay’ and ‘dead’, Zemo. At least let me take a look and help you clean it out. There’s no way you’ll be able to reach back there.”

“More than anything, what I need right now is a shower,” Zemo huffed and turned towards the bathroom, effectively ending the discussion.

Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face and wondered if this would be the day Zemo finally died for real on his watch. After everything they’d been through today, he didn’t have the mental energy to argue with the man, but what was slightly worrying was that it seemed Zemo didn’t even have it in him to bite back in that flirty, teasing, infuriating way he normally did. Bucky hoped that wasn’t a sign that he was secretly bleeding out internally. They were both covered in sweat and blood and grime and gunpowder, so maybe he could let this go for now and they could pick it back up once Zemo finished his little beauty spa routine in there.

“Well?” Zemo drawled, and Bucky glanced up in time to see the man looking over his shoulder at him as he stepped through the doorway. Zemo raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming?”

Bucky stood in stunned silence, watching Zemo disappear into the bathroom, leaving the door wide open behind him. The innuendo was clear, but Zemo was all innuendo all the time, and maybe Bucky was the one misconstruing it by considering for even a moment that there was any serious intent here.

He really did want to check out Zemo’s injury—though maybe want was a bit too strong a word there. What he wanted was to pour himself a whiskey neat and sit down on the couch and forget for five minutes that Zemo was his responsibility. But what he’d gotten instead was an opportunity to make sure their notoriously secretive parolee didn’t end up with sepsis down the line from an infected knife wound, or worse. Bucky sighed again and reluctantly made to follow behind Zemo, as if drawn forward on a persistent leash that he could never quite shake off.

The bathroom was overly large and opulent, as tended to be the case in Zemo’s scattered family properties-turned-safehouses, which they now took advantage of whenever their missions allowed—though a more pretentious person might call its design spacious and modern. As he stepped into the room, Bucky was hit with the loud hiss of the shower, its rushing spray battering the black tiles as it heated up to temperature in its glass enclosure.

In the centre of the room, Zemo stood like a dark and ragged headland dropping off into the sea, as he slid his coat over slumped shoulders to land in a heavy tumble of eroded rock at his feet. Bucky was certain that no matter the air of indifference that Zemo put on, he was well and truly far along the road of fatigue, because under normal circumstances the man he knew would never treat his favourite things with such lack of care.

Zemo drew a sharp breath between his teeth as he brought his shoulder blades together in a weak attempt to shrug his double shoulder holster off. Even the most incremental of movements seemed to exacerbate the pain of his injury.

“Here, let me just—” Bucky muttered as he strode up to Zemo and stopped him gently with a hand on his shoulder. He tugged carefully at the slide adjuster on the back of the harness, loosening it, and then reached around to slide his fingers underneath the leather straps, tucking them snugly against the meat of Zemo’s chest. Slowly and gingerly, he worked the straps over Zemo’s shoulders and slid them all the way down his arms, finally dropping the holster with its guns atop the heap of Zemo’s coat on the floor, gun safety be damned. It really was that sort of day.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Zemo fumbled at the buttons of his ruined shirt with tired fingers. Bucky tried not to let the worst of his imagination run wild as his eyes tracked over the torn and blood-soaked fabric, hoping it looked much worse than it really was. Once Zemo got the shirt spread open, Bucky helped him slide it off too, revealing the expanse of his pale shoulders and a Pollock-esque smear of blood down his back, red speckled all around like so many more lurid stars dispersed amongst his freckles.

Bucky squinted scrutinizingly at the wound, its raw and red gape a wrathful mouth, lips split and spitting vitriol. Despite its gory appearance, it looked clean and fairly shallow—the blade had likely caught on a rib, sparing him from any deeper damage. It was still bleeding sluggishly, though not enough to be dangerous, already clotting. It’d certainly need a few stitches, but Sam could take care of that easily once they cleaned it up.

While Bucky was focused on assessing the cut, Zemo was dead set on shedding the rest of his soiled clothing, like a birch tree unraveling its bark layer by layer, to expose the smooth and fresh golden skin beneath. Muscular thighs flexed as he kicked off his boots, tac pants following in their wake, slipping his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his underwear and tugging them down over the firm globes of his ass. Bucky caught sight of a deep pair of indents on Zemo’s lower back—his dimples of Venus, his brain supplied unhelpfully—before averting his eyes. He told himself the flush of heat he felt on his face was a result of the rising temperature in the room, a consequence of the roaring shower. He swallowed around a lump in his throat that definitely wasn’t there.

Now shamelessly naked, Zemo tugged open the shower door with his right hand, muscles rippling over the uninjured side of his back, and stepped into the spray of water.

Bucky had a brief moment debating with himself the merits of just leaving Zemo to his shower and going to get himself that drink after all, but that was promptly quashed as Zemo let out a loud moan at the first cascade of hot water hitting his body from the rainfall showerhead above him. That deep, throaty sound hit Bucky dead-on and proceeded to run over him like a high-capacity freight train, and got him dropping his pants pretty fucking quickly. Making quick work of the rest of his clothes, Bucky stepped into the shower and pulled the glass door shut behind him with a soft click.

#answered asks #WIP meme #writer asks #ravening writes #winterbaron #winterbaron fic #fic WIP #@shadowslament

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panickinganakin · 11 months

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stepping stones to hell ch. 7 (ronance fic)

hello!! all previous chapters can be found here!

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Robin stood inside her bathroom, staring into the mirror trying to curl her hair. Though she was rather good with rollers, she wasn’t that great with a curling iron. She could never figure out how to not crease her hair with the clamp. Unfortunately for her, the rollers had been left in her bag on the tour bus.

She tried hard to not burn her hands. She pinched strands of her hair with the very tips of fingers. “Ah,” she shook her hand around as if air would cure the burn she managed to get on the side of her pinky. “Shit.”

After her bedroom, the bathroom was her second favorite room in the house. Her and Gareth had painted it a dark forest green with shimmery gold trim. She had loved antique shopping so she spent almost two months searching for the perfect mirror. The one she had settled on was an oblong shape. The frame was metal wrapped ivy that was a tarnished gold color. She had hung so it was standing tall rather than wide.

Steve had helped mount shelves on the wall behind her after they had used metallic spray paint to match the mirror's color. The finishing piece had been the canvas she had hung across from the toilet. It was a cartoon fox playing a guitar but his shirt said ‘Fuck the System’. She had scored that gem sitting against a dumpster in New York after a show. She could never guess why someone would have thrown it out but she felt lucky it was hers.

She finally finished her hair then decided to add some eyeliner. For her outfit she had decided on a black skirt with her beloved Bowie shirt.

Before walking out the door she had grabbed her bucket hat. It was a Jurassic Park hat and she had been waiting to wear it just for this occasion. Even if it was a gawky yellow and green to match the park’s vehicle, she didn’t mind. She had seen it in the window of a movie prop shop in California and knew she had to have it for her collection.

Luckily for Robin, finding Nancy’s house wasn’t that bad. She had only taken one wrong turn but realized it before she got lost. When she pulled up Nancy was outside sitting on her steps. She stood up quickly, grabbing her bag.

She was wearing a floral mid length skirt but had paired it with a graphic t-shirt that said ‘I Heart My Pet T-Rex’. “Hey!” She said enthusiastically.

“Nancy Wheeler, I am literally begging you to tell me where you got your shirt.”

She clicked her seatbelt and let out a laugh, “I knew you’d enjoy it even though it doesn’t match the skirt.”

“I especially love it for that reason.” She backed out of the driveway carefully, “So?”

“Oh,” she sucked a breath in, “Don’t be mad, okay? I got it from a thrift store. For all we know it’s one of a kind.”

“I guess I’ll have to rob you. I need it for my collection.”

“What collection?” Though she wasn’t looking at her, Robin knew Nancy had raised an eyebrow when asking.

“I have a silly shirt collection. Every stop of the tour where we have time to dick around I find a thrift store and buy the most ridiculous shirt I can find.”

“No way,” she half snorted. “I would love to see it someday.”

“Because you have an interest or because you’re jealous and want to rob me?”

“Excuse me?” she pretended to sound offended.

Robin glanced at her, “Well if I show you where I live, who’s gonna stop you from breaking in when I’m on tour? Imagine the heartbreak I would feel coming home to find my ‘I shoved a hot dog in my ass in New York and all I got was this shirt’ t-shirt missing? Well, Nance let me just tell you, it would be worse than heartbreak. It would be, like, devastation.”

She could see Nancy’s mouth crack into a grin but she also looked a bit shocked. “You’re joking. You don’t have a shirt that says that.”

Robin shrugged, “Guess you’ve never been to New York.”

“I have but I didn’t get a shirt when I did it.”

Robin couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping. She couldn’t believe Nancy Wheeler had a dirty sense of humor. They both laughed and Robin shook her head, “That was inappropriate.”

She acted as if she were offended, “You started that and then set me up for the line. That’s on you.” They laughed again then Nancy pointed, “Oh! Take that road, it’s a shortcut.”

Robin turned on her blinker, following her instructions. One thing Robin enjoyed most about the fall was the setting sooner. She loved early nights. “It’s a blood moon tomorrow,” Nancy said as if she had read Robin’s thoughts about the sky.

“Oh shit. Really? That’s so cool, too bad I’ll be kicking ass on stage in Michigan.”

“I’ll take a picture for you.”

“Are you a photographer now too? Did you pick that up from Jonathan?” Robin didn’t mean to say it, it just sort of happened. But once it was out she realized she hadn’t asked about Jonathan. She knew the two of them had split up shortly before Robin had left Hawkins. The two had gone their separate ways but Robin didn’t really know what he was up to.

Nancy laughed which made Robin feel better about bringing him up. “Please. I just mean a little disposable camera. I could never work that thing like Jonathan does.”

“How is he by the way? If you don’t mind me asking… Unless you don’t want to talk about it of course.”

Robin could see Nancy look out the window but she started, “He’s good actually. I saw him last year when I was in California for an interview. We met up for coffee. He works for himself as a photographer but I think he wants to do movie promo. He said he had dabbled in it but it’s hard making a place for yourself in a city so big. Not that he couldn’t do it. Jon’s very talented. He just gets in his own way.” She paused for a moment then looked over.

Robin glanced at her for a second not wanting to take her eyes off the road for too long. “Hopper and Joyce got married. El and Will are both in school for film. El picked up an interest in special effects and Will wants to do script writing. He’s always been so full of ideas. They actually go to school in Illinois. They all share an apartment here.” Nancy paused to think, “Dustin and Lucas are both going school for science. Lucas is going to Notre Dame with a full ride. Max is actually working in gaming. I’m trying to set something up with her soon.”

This conversation had hit Robin in the gut. She forgot just how much she missed everyone. Even though she stayed busy most of the time she also had Steve which was like having a piece of her old life always with her. She never stopped to think about what all she truly left behind. “What about Erica?”

“She graduates in May. The last time I talked to Lucas he said she had a lot of schools looking at her. She basically has her pick.”

Robin smiled at that. She would never forget meeting Erica and the danger that followed shortly after. She was always so smart and strong minded. She wasn’t surprised to hear she was doing well. She wasn’t surprised that all of them were doing good. They were an intelligent group of kids, even if they had been smart asses. “It’s crazy. Sometimes I never really slow down to think about how much time has passed. Sometimes when I wake up I still expect to be surrounded by posters of Star Wars and Madonna. Seventeen all over again. It takes me a moment to realize just how much has happened,” Robin stated.

“I think that’s part of the trauma. Like time passes by fast, that’s true. However I think after what we all went through… I mean we had no choice but to keep ourselves distracted. At first it was like living to forget everything but soon you sort of do. Sometimes, when I take a step back from everything, I feel seventeen again. I feel like I’m watching everyone around me suffer and I think about it all. But I blink and it’s like I’m back to work.” Nancy had grown quieter with every confession.

There were things Robin never spoke about out loud. It was exactly what Nancy had said. She had done so much to forget so bringing them makes them real again. “I know exactly what you mean. I still have nightmares sometimes.”

Nancy glanced over at Robin. They pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater. Neither one of them moved first. Robin knew what the upon request was. Once they exited the car they would resume as normal. The past would be the past again. “I do too,” Nancy confessed.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Robin pulled her door handle to put Nancy at ease. She noticed Nancy’s chest fall with relief before she too stepped out of the car. “Man, I haven’t been to a theater in ages,” she said, joining Robin in stride.

The two walked toward the front of the building, “Me either! I can’t wait. Ugh. Movie theater popcorn means everything to me,” Robin said excitedly.

“What do you miss most when you’re on the road?” Nancy asked as the two waited in line at the ticket window.

“Hmm,” she tilted her head in thought. What did Robin miss the most? “Usually I would say my bed but I think I miss the overall normalcy of being home. Traveling and playing shows is so much fun. And even though the routine when you’re out on the road feels so chaotic there’s hardly any spontaneity. Like, wanting to go to the movies at the last minute? Nope. Deciding to stay in and cook cheap food and watch the Goonies? Nope. You miss being able to do normal things that would usually seem mundane.”

Nancy looked as if she was thinking Robin’s words over carefully. “I think sometimes we have to make sacrifices to be happy. Because I mean, if we’re being honest, what do you think you’d be doing if not music? Were you wanting to go to college beforehand?”

Robin knew exactly what Nancy meant. She had thought about it before, many times. She had no idea what she would be doing if she weren’t playing in Corroded Coffin. “Uhm, I think I did? I mean, my parents wanted that for me. I don’t really know what I would have done. I didn’t know that back then either. I probably would have picked a major without much consideration just because I would have panicked about taking too long. Maybe I would have become a teacher. Can you picture me in a classroom?”

Nancy laughed softly while shaking her head, “No. Not really. Maybe like a summer camp counselor?”

Robin scoffed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

She laughed again, “Well, I mean just mean, your bucket hat and previous cargo shorts. Not to mention your lame t-shirts. It’s all camp counselor vibes.”

Robin’s jaw dropped and she acted like she was offended. “You’re cruel.”

They stepped up to the ticket window and Robin paid for their tickets to the movie. As they stepped through the double doors Nancy tilted her head, “I’m only joking. I don’t know though. I think being a drummer suits you so well. It’s hard to imagine anything else but maybe something in art. Can you draw?”

“Nope, not even a stick figure.”

“Really? Shocking. You have such an artsy personality.”

They stepped toward the concessions together where Nancy purchased a large popcorn and two sodas. “Oh, okay. I got it. You probably would have tried working in film right? Maybe behind the camera? Or set design? You love movies.”

“This is true,” Robin took the drink Nancy offered her. “I think working on film sets would be fun. A little hectic, but probably fun. What would you have done? Was there ever anything besides writing you thought about?”

They made their way into the room they had been directed towards. It was still dimly lit with only a handful of others scattered about. They made their way to the top, Nancy still thinking about her answer. “I don’t know. Writing is something I have been passionate about for as long as I can remember. I know my mom and I discussed the medical field once but I don’t think I would like being a nurse. Maybe I would own a bookstore somewhere. Just something comfy but something I would still enjoy.”

The lights went out completely and the screen in front of them came to life. They sat through the trailers, sharing the popcorn before the movie finally started.

The two sat through the movie, sharing popcorn and looks of shock or amazement during the scenes that had blown them away. It had been everything Robin had hoped and more. During the scene where Ellie had restored power and the dino had jumped from behind her, Nancy had let out a gasp of horror before clutching Robin’s arm. “Holy shit!” she whispered, trying to laugh it off quietly only to lose her composure when Ellie had grabbed Mr.Arnold’s arm.

The scene that had gotten Robin was the one with Tim and Lex in the kitchens with the velociraptors.

As they made their way back to the car Nancy had let out a loud breath, “You know. I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting; however, I didn’t think it was gonna be that suspenseful! It was kind of scary!”

“Honestly it was so good. I definitely get all the talk! Thank you for coming with me!” She stepped toward the passenger side of the car to open the door for Nancy. Nancy slid in before Robin shut the door and got in the car herself.

“I’m really glad you invited me! I don’t get out much aside from work. Usually I’m working at home too, though.”

“I wish I had known sooner you were living so close. Tour is going to be over in like three weeks so maybe we can hang out again?”

“I think that would be a great idea! Maybe we can make seeing movies together a normal thing for us!”

“Ohhh, I would love that. Steve and Eddie? Terrible at sitting through a movie. Probably the worst movie date ever.”

Nancy laughed, “I can see that.”

Robin took the road that she had turned down on the drive to the theater. Nancy tapped the armrest between the two of them. It was completely dark now but luckily there was no lack of street light. “So, I’ll call you Tuesday?”

“Huh? Oh, the article. Yeah! I should have the first draft by then. I’m hoping the photos will be developed tomorrow when I get in. I’m excited to see what we have to work with.”

Robin’s cheeks flushed at the thought of the photos. She looked good that day but that didn’t make her any nervous to see them herself. “Promise me if I look dumb you’ll throw them out and just do the story. No photos.”

“What? No! You looked so fucking good! Don’t worry, Robin. This is gonna be so badass, I promise.”

Robin let out a sigh of relief, “I trust you.” She finally said.

“Good, it’s literally my job.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Robin pulled into Nancy’s driveway. “You can call me anytime, by the way. Not just on Tuesday. I get lonely here, it’s nice having friends.”

“Ooh, that reminds me!” Robin fished around her center console, finding an old receipt and pen. She scribbled her number down and handed it to Robin. “Obviously you won’t be able to call me while I’m gone. But, when I’m back, call me when you’re free!”

“Great,” Nancy smiled big, sliding the paper down into her bag. She reached for the door handle then paused, “How tired are you?”

“I’m not?” Robin responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you want to go to Painter’s Port?” She asked. When Robin gave her a questioning look she continued with an explanation. “Painter’s Port is a lake a few miles away. Not even really a port which is funny they call it that. It’s not even really a lake. It’s really a good sized pond. But, it’s usually pretty empty at night. It's a nice place to look at the stars.”

Robin thought about it for a moment. She had to be up at five to leave for the bus but she could try to nap while they drove. It would be at least three weeks before she got to see Nancy again. Saying no would be silly and also make her a bad friend. “Will you drive? I don’t like driving at night and since you know where it is…?” Robin trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

Nancy’s face split into a smile and she nodded, “Of course! First, let me go grab a blanket and some wine!”

Robin watched as Nancy bounced up her driveway and disappeared into her house. She scooted over into the passenger seat and smiled to herself. She really enjoyed Nancy’s company and it was obvious Nancy enjoyed hers. She wouldn’t have wanted to extend their time out together had she not, right?

After a few short moments Nancy exited the house holding two bottles of wine and a blanket. She slid into the driver's seat, dropping the contents of her arms into Robin’s lap. “Ready?” She was smiling excitedly so Robin nodded at her with genuine happiness. “Let’s go,” she said before pulling out of her driveway.

#ronance #stepping stones #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin and nancy #the fruity four #fruity four #steddie confirmed #corroded coffin #stranger things #stranger things fic #st4 #robin buckley fic #nancy wheeler fic #robin buckley and nancy wheeler

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nanase-haru · 1 year

Video

{A.M.V.} Free!! x Uta no Prince-sama / Mamoru Miyano (Inspired): “Canon” (Second opening theme of Uta no Prince-sama Maji Love 2000%) {In that series, Miyano voices “Tokiya Ichinose”. This is not sung by “Tokiya” technically, but might give Tokiya’s image.} I used Miyano’s inspiration to make a Free!! A.M.V.! {It is my very first for this fandom, though I watched as it aired!}

Series: Free!! (C) Kyo-Ani “Canon” (C) Broccoli-Games / ELEMENTSGARDEN {Note: This is a FAN-work}

Characters/Pairs Featured: - RinHaru {Rin x Haru} - Rintori / NitoRin / RinAi {Rin x Aiichirou Nitori} - Ai x Rin x Haru as poly-ship or open relationships; (implied by the end) Feel free to view your preference!

My Commentary:

I would like to propose a Concept - Haru, Rin and Ai all have MULTIPLE HANDS. (This A.M.V. showcases the dynamics / story progression of all three; each of Haru and Ai with Rin, briefly, all acknowledging each other) Contains spoilers for: Free!! Seasons 1 & 2; {Rin; Haru; Ai scenes} “The Final Stroke” Part 2 start; but nothing specific from Final Stroke’s ending {Yet?}. (TFS Part 1 shows only in ‘scenic’ scene.) Others appear as support.

(Though I admit I am personally biased towards RinAi fandom-wise, I’ve also enjoyed the canon dynamic between Rin and Haru.) However, this work was partly made / inspired by an old mutual; this mutual really loved Rin+Haru dynamic too, so this is made in support! {They also like everyone as friends, as do I.} I’m not able to make much for this fandom usually (in the past, I did briefly rp {role-play} Ai, but do not actively write fic or anything much outside rp) but for the most part, this A.M.V. was very fun to make! Happy 10~ years anniversary to Free!! Time Spent: - About an hour and 30 min on the 1st verse + chorus. - Almost 4 and a half hours / a whole evening on the rest. - I am not even kidding when I say this thing must have crashed my editor (Windows Movie Maker... it’s an older version, sigh) at least x30+~50 times while attempting to finish Nitori’s scenes timing and the ending. As a result, this is technically a “first draft” (I know ending’s bit rushed, but I tried!) until I can go back and add in more timings and scene cuts! (Someday!...) - My editor tends to crash pretty frequently if I attempt 50+ clips; sometmes even after 20~ clips or so. This one has just about 40 clips, with bonus KyoAni’s own timings helping to smooth out the rest! - Sub-titles cannot be included at this time; I apologize! (However, lyric{s} below the ‘read more’!) It is recommended you view them in full (or in sections) before watching! - If you watch, I’d really love to hear your thoughts; I put a lot of effort in!

Summary:

“I only swim FREE!.” - Haru

... DO YOU?

“I feel so useless.” - Ai

“A sight you’ve never seen before...”

{Lyric[s] Preview!}:

Distant feelings on a {‘SILENT’} hill, … all of my love… (Get ready!)

“Do not tremble in this cruel world…” Through the kiss of a song, better than thousands of words

We can give something up ({I} swear to you) Just to live in this moment (Hold my hand) For your sake and for mine, we’re ready to take off now…together!

“SO, let’s GO!”

Your beloved voice becomes a powerful impulse That makes dreams reality As our heartbeats synchronize… Ah, exceeding even miracles, (Feel your song!) Up among the stars, (Feel my song!) Until that dream Reaches the unseeable FUTURE, I’ll PLAY this song! {“Free”}

I was scared of truth’s LIGHT…

(Lyric{s} via Uta-pri Wikia!)

“Canon” (description via Wiki): {no, not the fandom term.} In music, a canon is a contrapuntal (counterpoint-based) compositional technique that employs a melody with one or more imitations of the melody played after a given duration (e.g., quarter rest, one measure, etc.). The initial melody is called the leader (or dux), while the imitative melody, which is played in a different voice, is called the follower (or comes). The follower must imitate the leader, either as an exact replication of its rhythms Rand intervals or some transformation thereof. Repeating canons in which all voices are musically identical are called rounds. (For the meaning behind the title / theme!) {In the A.M.V., I semi-relate (if vaguely) this theme to all three characters; plus, more directly, make the comparison to Haru + Free!! AND Relay Medleys.} (There is vague inspiration from the original Uta-pri as well, but not intended directly comparable.)

The final chorus of the A.M.V. is one I had in mind ever since first hearing this song way back around Apr 2k13, when the second part of Uta-pri aired. It may be slightly more modified in a “final” version, but for the most part!...

Lyric[s]:

Distant {“Haruka”} feelings on a silent hill, all of my love… (Get ready!) [Haru <-> Rin] (+Haru; specifically...) “Do not tremble in this cruel world…” Through the kiss of a “song”, better than thousands of words We can give something up (I swear to you) Just to live in this moment (Hold my hand) For your sake and for mine, we’re ready to take off now…together! “So, let’s go!” Your beloved voice becomes a powerful impulse That makes dreams reality As our heartbeats synchronize… Ah, exceeding even miracles, (Feel your song!) Up among the stars, (Feel my song!) Until that dream Reaches the unseeable future, I’ll play this song! I was scared of truth’s light... [Ai -> Rin] Even at this great a DISTANCE, it’s too DAZZLING An unspeakable LONELINESS (No more crying) Thirsting for an impossible cure (Save my heart) [Ai <-> Rin] Since I met you, I’ve sworn to start living! The overlapping melodies of your voice seem to scorch my heart Resonating dreams echoing for eternity Like a sense of déjà vu, I knew today (Feel your love) A bloom of hope (Feel my love) An infinite rainbow Now our feelings are merging as we become one [Ai <-> Rin <-> Haru] The stars are waiting for the sky, they want to become a dream(?) The day will come when they bloom like a flower, and a rainbow awaits us on that day We’re ready to take off now…together! “So, let’s go!” Your beloved voice becomes a powerful impulse That makes dreams reality As our heartbeats synchronize… Ah, exceeding even miracles, (Feel your song!) Up among the stars, (Feel my song!) Until that dream Reaches the unseeable future, I’ll play this song! Feelings tied together on a shining hill…

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adrienschat · 1 year

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About Me Tagged

So, I’ve been tagged in a few posts by @summerfrwrks @lady-de-mon-coeur @sub-text & @rosie-b (ily guys thank you for being patient), and I decided to put them all together lmfaoo

WIPs Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Ongoing:

The Wall Between Us (miraculous fic)

Golden (3rd edit - mysterious demon comes to town, a girl confronts her grief)

Stitches (poetry book)

Winterville School for the Talented and Gifted (paranormal romance)

Random music & animations

Barely Seen the Light of Day:

I have it kinda planned out but my alt-marinette au lmfao

Strikes at Midnight (fantasy novel I’ll never finish, but it has like 100k words)

Open Caged Bird (Webtoon I started like a year ago...)

Shipping

three ships:

adrien/marinette (in ANY FORM)

....... Drarry (dont block me i know hp is problematic etc etc)

those silly gays from our flag means death

first ship:

Probably percabeth?

last song:

Cannibal (Nathan Apollo)

last movie:

M3GAN (SOOOO FUNNY)

currently reading:

The Dark Prince (i’m on like page 30 because i’m a dumb slow reader)

my Python textbook

the picture of dorian grey

random fanfics i love

currently watching:

Orange is the new black

Barry

currently consuming:

right now i’m having a smoothie

water

wish i was having DIET COKE

currently craving:

DIET COKE!

rules: list five things you never get tired of writing. it can be tropes, themes, characters, phrases, whatever brings you joy. then tag five people!

1. LESBIANS!!!!!!

2. BISEXUALS!!!!!!!!!!

3. slightly spooky

4. PINING! PINIING! PINING!!!

5. Dramatic irony

About Me

1. Are you named after anyone?

I actually named myself! I was 7, getting adopted, and i hated my birth name so i switched it to Julia (not named after anyone)

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday during my singing lesson (i’m sorry K, i hope you read this and know i’m sorry lmfao). I cry a lot

3. Do you have kids?

nooooooooooo but i love kids and i love my niece and nephews. someday i’d like to be a mom!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yeah but tbh i think it’s more like a teasing sarcasm. i don’t like to make people think they’re stupid

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

How they’re feeling in a situation

sense of humor

6. What’s your eye colour?

Dark blue! Some people have asked me if I have brown eyes but only in dimly lit rooms lol.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies with happy endings my beloved. Finding love despite the horrors. etc etc

8. Any special talents?

Projecting myself onto characters

i’m not good at most things i do, but i have a talent for doing what makes me happy

9. Where were you born?

Germany!

10. What are your hobbies?

Writing music, novels, fanfic, and poetry

singing

gym

guitar

languages <3 (I speak Spanish fluently, ASL & French pretty okay, and a bit of german)

video games

crafty stuff (i used to crochet and knit a lot)

sewing!

11. Have you any pets?

two kitties hehe. they’re under my “thea” and “dorito” tags. thea’s legal name is cool ranch.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

just gym, no sport

but also i did do cross country back in high school

13. How tall are you?

I’m 6′ lmfao. I love being tall, it calls forth the short lesbians (this is a message to short lesbians to talk to me)

14. Favorite subject in school?

i liked math, which is ironic since i’m an editor/writer for work

15. Dream job?

I’m getting a master’s in software development rn, so i reeeeally want to create beautiful video games.

Who I’m Tagging

Don’t feel any pressure to answer all or any of the questions! Love you guys <3

@castles-in-the-eyre @keyboardnonsense @asukiess @lesbitorte @fantasybuff3186 @juliuli @fragileizy @everythingisubtext @dorkylovespepsi @chatdc @talkstoself @doksangs

#ALSO IF THIS IS ANNOYING #i'm sorry but cest la vie #hi this is me #also if you weren't tagged but youre one of my mutuals respond and tag me in it my beloveds

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bravemikhailo · 1 year

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a very late 2022 fic writer’s interview ✍️

thank you so much for tagging me @vintagelacerosette @thisdivorce and @very-sleepy-head 🫶🏻

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

10!

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

141,535 👁👄👁

3. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

forever now

fade into you

never letting you go

warmness on the soul

beginners

4. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do! it’s nice knowing someone took the time to leave a comment so I always try to reciprocate with a response :) also comments just make me happy. a lot

5. what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I think it might be boys don’t cry — even though it kind of has a hopeful ending, but we all know what happens in 4x12 so 😔

6. what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I think warmness on the soul — it’s just a buncha birthday love for mickey as he deserves <3

7. do you write crossovers?

nope, just get a bunch of inspiration from other media and put ian and mickey in that situation lol

8. have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think so? not directly at least

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I did write some smut for this year’s kinktober :) existential smut my beloved

10. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

11. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone asked to translate one of my fics once but I don’t know if that ever happened (I also once translated one of my fics into my language for fun lmao)

12. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but I’d love to someday :)

13. what’s your all time favourite ship?

👉🏻👈🏻

14. what’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

the only WIP I published is wanderers above the sea of fog, and I plan on finishing that, even though it’s gonna take a while. I did start writing a moulin rouge au in march but I never finished it. hopefully I will

15. what are your writing strengths?

I guess vivid imagery? had to go look at some comments on my fics and a lot of them say that I’m good at conveying the emotions, so I think maybe that one sksjs

16. what are your writing weaknesses?

definitely world building because I’m lazy </3 also I tend to forget a lot of what I’ve written, especially when it’s been a while between updates, which I think is a normal thing but still annoying. I also experience a lot of very long writer’s blocks (like right now) so that sucks. shall I keep going? because there’s definitely more

17. what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I actually enjoy it

18. what was the first fandom you wrote for?

gallavich :) I posted my first ever fic around two years ago!

19. what’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written yet for but want to?

I’ve only written gallavich so far. not sure I could write any other ship actually, but I wanted to write a gentlebeard fic (our flag means death) a while ago. never happened but still

20. what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

it’s gotta be wanderers above the sea of fog, which is also the biggest thing I’ve ever written in my life so far. really proud of this one not gonna lie

I haven’t been here a lot lately and I’m pretty sure everyone’s done this already but I’ll tag my dear friend and incredible writer @oatmilkovich if you want to 💜💫

#also HAPPY NEW YEAR 🥳#i missed everyone!#tag games

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curator-on-ao3 · 1 year

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“ why can’t i come with you? ” for raffi, seven and elnor! your fics are fantastic btw!

You are so kind, anon! 💕 Thank you! I hope you’re in the mood for some extreme fluff because, with that question as a prompt for those three characters, I simply had to go for a super-duper happy story.

For those who prefer AO3:

For those who prefer to read here:

———

The Paperwork Witness

It’s obvious that Elnor notices when Seven and Raffi can’t help but whisper about their plans, a poorly concealed giggle here, a shush there — Seven usually the one shushing, Raffi’s excitement too contagious for them both.

It’s been a happy coincidence that Starfleet kept the three of them on Earth as Seven trains and Elnor completes post-graduate courses. Raffi splits her time between duties at headquarters and socializing at the Starfleet housing tower where Seven was assigned a room that just happens to be on the other side of a common area from Elnor’s room. As if Starfleet — cold, uncaring Starfleet — somehow knew that Seven could use a friend to meet in the common area to share his knowledge of Starfleet’s training quirks, as well as a partner to be there when Seven and Elnor both want to talk about duty or fun or just … life.

And while the trio always separates at nighttime with Raffi and Seven staying together and Elnor going to his room, they know each other well enough as a group that Elnor’s eyebrows rise at a change in routine — Raffi stepping into the common area entryway earlier than usual, Seven immediately standing to leave with Raffi — and he asks, “Where are you two going?”

Seven’s shoulder brushes Raffi’s, their fingers lacing. “Starfleet business.”

It’s true.

Elnor rises from his chair, steps toward them, congenial, friendly. “I’ll accompany you.”

Raffi’s head shakes. She and Seven have discussed this. Just the two of them, that’s what Raffi wants and Seven agreed.

And Elnor doesn’t seem offended by Raffi’s head shake — that’s not in his nature — but, despite his time on Earth, Elnor still tends to expect a certain level of candor, so he asks the obvious question: “Why can’t I come with you?”

“Honey,” Raffi’s voice is soft, her gaze gentle with affection for Elnor, “it’s just a bunch of paperwork.”

Elnor’s forehead furrows, confusion, and Seven … Seven doesn’t want to tell even a lie of omission to Elnor, and, yes, she and Raffi wanted to do this on their own, but Seven’s hand tugs at Raffi’s and there’s a quick discussion comprised of glances and head tilts, the secret language of beloveds and deeply trusteds, then two soft sighs of agreement and they turn to face Elnor again.

Raffi begins: “Elnor, we’re going to the Personnel Office …”

Seven continues: “… to name each other as next of kin, medical contact, and all that before I get my first Starfleet assignment …”

Raffi finishes: “… so you’re not really going to miss anything but some signatures.”

There are a few silent seconds of consideration. Elnor has always been a deep thinker. Then a grin spreads across his face — bright eyes, lifted lips, a chin tilt of satisfaction. “You’re getting married?”

Oh, that grin must be contagious.

“Sort of.” Raffi’s hand squeezes Seven’s. “We — I — didn’t want a wedding. It didn’t feel right without Cris there. Maybe someday. But, for now: paperwork.”

There’s that pause of deep thought again, and Elnor’s head bows slightly as if in prayer, one of the many small reminders of his upbringing among the nuns. “I respect your wishes to complete your paperwork alone. I will be honored to witness your wedding when the time is right.”

And Seven can’t do this, can’t leave Elnor out when this is a wedding — not a party, but something legal and meaningful and important. She turns toward Raffi, belly filling with breath to speak, to argue, but Seven doesn’t have to fight this battle. The secret language of glances and head tilts is even faster this time, and Raffi nods for Seven to be the one to say it.

“Elnor,” Seven’s chest lightens with happiness, “would you mind coming along to witness our paperwork?”

And it’s not just Elnor’s grin that is contagious. His smile — so pure and dazzling — flows to Raffi, then to Seven, and the trio set out to the Personnel Office, and Seven … with her next-of-kin-to-be on one side and her witness on the other … Seven can’t help but feel like a bride.

———

Send me an ask with character(s) and a prompt and I’ll do my best to write you a little something in a not-so-secret language. ❤️

✨ All prompted Picard ficlets are also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43315549/chapters/108880510 ✨

#questions prompt #i love asks #saffi #saffi fanfic #fluffy saffi #mawwiage #star trek picard #star trek picard fanfic #fanfic #raffi musiker #seven of nine #elnor #anon

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jowritesfanfiction · 7 months

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Thank you to @bg-sparrow for tagging me!!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I got 15. (insert the It Ain't Much but it's Honest Work meme)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

Somehow I have 66,591 words? It's not a lot, but I don't really focus on word count when I write.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I mainly write for Back to the Future, but sometimes I have been possessed to write about Shakespeare plays (i'm being haunted by Billy Shakes himself)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Julius Caesar (The Gayer Version of the Play) - Shakespeare

Rebel With a Cause - Back to the Future

The 10 Years of Penelope - The Odyssey (this was out of spite)

Tender Roses - Shakespeare

Marty’s Road Test - Back to the Future

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to as much as I can. I really like engaging with the fandom and I know that I like talking to other fic authors about their works. But sometimes it stresses me out or I just forget…

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Chapter 1 of Catch the Winds of Destiny. Poor George and Lorraine. They’re so miserable. It made me sad writing it.

Although, my chapter about Einstein in Doc's Dogs was also angsty.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ooooo. A lot of my stories are fluff and end happy, but I think what makes a story have a happy ending is one that shows characters at their worst and still ends happy somehow. So, by that logic, Chapter Three of Catch the Winds of Destiny has the happiest ending.

But if we’re just going based on pure happiness at the end, not just being hopeful, then it’s gotta be Rebel With a Cause.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, thankfully. All the commenters I get are very sweet and lovely and honestly encourage me to keep going.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Absolutely not. It doesn't appeal to me as a writer or as a reader.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I actually forgot I wrote this, but I wrote one (1) crossover fic for The Mummy and Jungle Cruise called New Friends.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have no idea, but it would honestly be really cool if that happened--as long as I have knowledge that it happened.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. It sounds really fun, though. I just have a really weird writing schedule (aka: I get bursts of writing inspiration and then a week later I cannot write at all) and I feel like that might mess with things??? I dunno.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Lorraine/George MY BELOVEDS. Oh my goodness do not even get me started. They are so adorable when they finally get their crap together and aren’t miserable. A close second is Marty/Jennifer. And because no one can stop me, Doc & Marty is my favorite platonic ship (their friendship is everything to me).

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Real talk? My current WIP, Someday We'll Find It. I don’t doubt that I won’t finish it, per se, but I am scared I’ll lose interest in finishing it. I’ve gotten into a new hyperfixation and usually that means my old one (Back to the Future) will get pushed outta the way and I don’t think about it as much. I’ve been trying really hard to balance both of them, so I’m praying I can still finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I would say dialogue. It’s what comes to me naturally when I start writing. When I go to revise the story, I don’t have to add or delete too much dialogue. I think most of my stories tend to be driven by dialogue and that’s what most people comment about in my fics. I feel like I am better at showing who a character is through dialogue than other things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Prose. I struggle so much with how much to write. Is it too much that it’s distracting? Is it too little and no one can get immersed in the story? I also tend to go on tangents with little stories that I have to figure out if it benefits or hurts the story in any way.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’ve never done it before. If I were to do it, I would probably have the character speak in the language and work on making sure any dialogue tags and responses from other characters help a reader who only speaks English understand what is being said without having to Google translate it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Warrior Cats. In elementary school, my friend and I would pass a folded up piece of paper. One of us would draw our OC saying/doing something and then the other would respond. There was nothing pre-planned, we just made it up as we went. We actually finished one and I got my dad to photocopy it so my friend and I could have it saved digitally and they could print it off.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

How could you do this to me???? I love so many of them for so many reasons. I love all my fics!!! (okay that’s a lie. But shhhh). I can’t pick one for my favorite of All Time, so I’ll pick one that’s special to me at the moment:I Fell For You. It was so self-indulgent and I loved trying to figure out how George would respond to the situation in the original Twin Pines timeline.

I'll tag @measuresderepo and anyone else who wants to join. (I'm so serious. If I haven't tagged you and you wanna do it, DO IT. Even if we have never interacted or anything. Go off)

#tag game #writing tag game

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alister312 · 2 years

Note

hello!! I am very excited for gregstophe week coming up!! it's been quite a while since I've read any fics for the pairing and I'm looking to read some to get inspiration and a deeper understanding of the pair's dynamic before I get writing. do you have any fics you'd recommend? love from fay!! :)

hey fay!! (haha rhyming ☺️) it’s no worries!! I’ll just elaborate a bit:

As you said, I do have a whole fic rec list full of my personal favorites/ones that I think are important! That’s a good place to start. Of course, I’ll once again highlight effingbirds/petroica traversi’s writing of the pair in particular. I hold her in the highest regard for Gregstophe. Another classic I will always recommend is “A Stupid High School Tradition Called Prom”!! I think it goes way overboard with Christophe’s accent (a good idea of what not to do if you decide to phonetically type it out) BUT the characterization between the two is ON. POINT. And it’s a fluffy fic which is hard to find imo. There’s also a FFN author who I didn’t include any of the fics of on the rec list but she was PROLIFIC in the amount she wrote for the pair. Her name is Mizuni-no-neko and while I don’t think her fics are that great, I would be remiss to not mention her.

And not to be biased, but I do think that the fics by some people I’ve befriended are very good! Specifically saturnpanther, Leslie (aka Mz_Sinister), revoleotion, and pnjrnk (aka teglue). While I’m being self indulgent, I also have many of my own Gregstophe fics that I’m proud of. “Just Business” is, of course, my beloved baby, my fic that I’ve spent the most time on and poured the most soul into. Is it my best work? No— I’d say “Masquerade” or my two Public Void fics earn that title. Maybe someday my Gregstophe TSOT fic, whenever I finish that one. But “Just Business” is still the one that I hold nearest and dearest to my heart.

#south park #gregstophe

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brown-little-robin · 2 years

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get to know you better tag!

tagged by @melliabee and @o-lei-o-lai-o-lord (both of whom I can’t properly tag, sorry, IDK if it’s just my tumblr acting up or what). Combining the two lists into one here :)

Favorite time of year: fall. early fall when the weather turns crisp and I’m just starting to wear sweaters comfortably, when it’s windy and rainy and beautiful in Iowa, where I live. chef’s KISS. God made all seasons beautiful in their time but boy do I appreciate the early fall.

Favorite Color: today it’s the light blue-grey of a foggy morning

Comfort food: hmm... dad’s waffles, cooked in his dearly beloved mini-wafflemakers, with syrup and/or margarine.

Do you collect something? Yes! Rocks and feathers.

Most treasured rock: a rough blue crystal-y one, really vividly blue and opaque, that I’ve had for ever. It was my mom’s before it was mine.

Most recent feather: I just recently found a really nice owl feather on campus. It’s a wing feather, I’m pretty sure. Maybe someday I’ll learn to actually identify feathers n’ stuff. For now I just think they’re pretty :)

Favorite drink: chamomile tea, raspberry tea, and hot chocolate are tied for favorite. They have different purposes, you know?

Favorite song: I have to choose one? Well... What Wondrous Love Is This always hits me right in the chest... but I love singing it and I love listening to it. I could hear it every day and not get tired of it, so favorite it is. (for a secular one, I’d go with Swimming Pool by Young Waters for similar reasons.)

Current favorite song: today? Classical Gas by Mason Williams. Joey Wilson (a superhero favorite of mine) canonically learned it on guitar, and I’ll be listening to it later today while I write the next chapter of my fic. It’s a good instrumental song, melancholy but hopeful, sort of despairing and sort of upbeat.

Favorite fic (well, at least one of them): ohhh, let’s see. Reclaiming Innocence, a fic where Jason Todd was a child prostitute, is a long and beautiful slice-of-life story about healing which was one of the major inspirations for Strange Redemption. It’s so difficult and real and aaa I’m not doing it justice. I weep.

Currently Reading: The Reverse of a Robin is a Shadow by @called-kept. Also tons of random poems for my British Literature class and my poetry class. We talked about Tyger Tyger in class today in British Lit!

Currently Working On: writing The Strange Redemption of Thaddeus Thawne (I expect the next chapter will be done within the week!!). Taking ceramics, entomology, rhetorical analysis, poetry, and romantic & Victorian British Literature (undergrad English major here!). Getting Enough Sleep. Sewing a plushie hamster without a pattern (a fun little challenge for myself, even if I’ve already messed up several times and dubbed the li’l guy Frankenhammy because of all his mismatched pieces).

Last Series: The last series I finished was uhhh... I think Mob Psycho 100! I’m also trying out The Bear (a cooking drama found family thing?) @swinging-stars-from-satellites’ ramblings convinced me to give it a shot. It’s way grittier than the stuff I normally like, but what can I say? I’m hooked. Carmy is incredibly pathetic and I want him to succeed.

Last Movie: A Werewolf Boy (2012). It’s a Korean fantasy romance / tragedy. I watched this as a child and loved it, so I was SUPER excited to find it free online again! I adore the gentle-monster trope, and werewolves are where it’s at. I always adore a good werewolf story, barring weird romances, and this movie is NOT a weird romance. It’s just sweet.

Not tagging anyone, because I’ve made this into a monster of a list, but feel free to steal this. And tag me if you do! I love seeing these.

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megslovesbooks · 2 years

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Throwback Thursday!

rules: post something from an old work, maybe a wip you never finished or a passage you really love from a published fic!

Thanks for the tag @onward--upward my beloved.

Hey look a challenge I can do!! Someday I’ll write new stuff. 😅

This is from an old unfinished The Falcon and the Winter Solider fic that I should probably take off ao3 because it’s unfinished, I left it in a terrible place, and I don’t know if I know how to end it. 🫠 I should just delete, but it’ll probably languish there for all time. That said I really love parts of it, and this one is my favorite. I’m absolutely going to plagiarize myself with it someday.

Sam.

The name rips through him like shrapnel, seizing his lungs and filling his mouth with the taste of blood. He can’t lose Sam, he can lose anything else, he has lost everything else.

Not Sam.

And he knows it makes no sense, three (or eight if you count the snap, he doesn’t) years ago they’d been trying to kill each other, and even after that they’d spent so much time at odds with one another that it started to feel like the normal. Up until the Flag Smashers, Bucky wouldn’t have even called them friends. And that had been fine. He didn’t need to be friends with Sam to know they had each other’s backs.

But somehow Sam snuck up on him, wedged himself in the cracks of Bucky’s armor and pushed until they gave way enough to let the sun in. Sam had planted careful seeds and tended them with invitations to cookouts and quiet nights of unspoken comfort and rude jokes told with warmth in his eyes. And now Bucky is stuck holding all these fragile green shoots, tiny leaves unfurling toward the sky, and he doesn't know what he’s supposed to do with them.

I’m sorry, I have no idea who’s been tagged already, my time online today has been nonexistent, but I’ll tag @sibylsleaves, @messyhairdiaz, @confetti-cupcake & @ajunerose because they’ve all be lovely and tagged me in things lately and I can’t do any of them 😂😭. Soon though. Soon. ❤️

#throwback thursday #tfatws #megs writes

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contreparry · 2 years

Note

Hello and happy Friday! For DADWC, perhaps "Secrets beneath floorboards, memories in the walls," if that strikes your fancy?

Absolutely! I haven’t written him or the rest of the family in a while, but I think I’ll write some contemplative Maxwell Trevelyan for @dadrunkwriting ! (Yes this is the saga of Henrietta, someday I’m finishing this fic I swear).

House Trevelyan was built on secrets. There were secrets under every floorboard and memories soaked in every wall. All noble houses were like that, no matter the nation, and Maxwell Trevelyan was molded by duty and secrets. Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed, full of secrets to be taken to the grave.

At least, there would still be secrets if his daughter wasn’t such a determined, fiery, independent girl- so much like her mother that Maxwell struggled to see himself in his own child, save for her height and adoration of horses. Had he not been the same, before he took his duties as heir seriously, before he had an entire brood of younger brothers to follow his lead, before he had a sister-

A sister. One of those other family secrets Henrietta rooted out while wandering through the family portrait gallery. Then she was tripping through the genealogy records, pestering everyone she met until she dragged the story of the youngest Trevelyan child out into the light-

Maxwell hadn’t forgiven his brothers for the parts they played in that fiasco. The discovery of a secret aunt fascinated his daughter. She peppered him with questions regularly: what was she like? What were Aunt Evelyn’s favorite foods? Her favorite color? Did she like animals? Horses? I bet she liked horses. Maxwell knew his answers were terribly brief and disappointing: quiet. She liked sweets. Pink, I think. Yes, but she was too small to ride the horses. She had a pony, before- and he stopped there, secrets clamping down on his windpipe until he choked. Before The Incident, before the fire in his father’s study. He was away at school in Val Royeux at the time, only to return a month later on break to find his sister gone and his family stone-faced.

She is a Mage, he was told. What else is to be done? Forget about her if you can, but you must hold your tongue and bury her in your heart. She’s another secret for House Trevelyan now. She is lost.

This explanation did not sit well with Henrietta when he gave it to her. So what, she shouted over breakfast, cutlery shaking as she slammed her hands on the table. She’s my aunt! I want to write to her! And no matter what Maxwell said, no matter how he pleaded, no matter what he ordered, Henrietta was as she ever was: fiercely independent and tenacious, clever when she put her mind to it.

Headstrong and willful, his father would sigh, disapproval etched into the furrow between his thick dark brows. Wild and spoiled, his mother would exclaim as she shook her head, emeralds glittering at her throat like the eyes of a particularly snobby cat. Unrefined, his grandmother would placidly remark over a glass of wine, but not incorrigible.

Henrietta is a delightful breath of fresh air, his sister wrote to him in her short missive inviting him to Skyhold to retrieve his wayward child, who ran off from finishing school to visit a beloved aunt she never met. His sister! By Andraste, he and Emily boarded a ship the very day they received the message that Henrietta was at Skyhold. Healthy, hale, and safe, his sister assured him, but Maxwell could not, would not rest until he saw his daughter with his own eyes.

Which he had. And now she was perched on the emerald green loveseat across from his armchair in the Inquisitor’s private quarters. Her mouth was set in a grim, determined line, her bright red hair (just like Emily’s) pulled back into a loose tail. She looked healthy, a little pink in the cheeks from the cold and the wind, but well enough and comfortable in wool tunic and leggings. She had a bit of straw caught up her her hair. Horses, once again. Always with the horses.

“Scold me all you like, father. You can lock me up in the dungeons or in a tower or ban me from riding or sailing or make me sew samplers until my hair turns white, but you mustn’t blame Aunt Evelyn for this! I never told her I was coming to visit. I arrived quite unexpectedly,” Henrietta insisted in a rush, breaking the frigid silence. Maxwell bit his tongue as Emily lay a hand on his forearm. Peace, Maxwell, the gesture said. Modest temper. Sit back and think!

His first thought was anger. How dare the Inquisitor worm her way into his daughter’s generous and kind heart, use her to draw him across the sea to pay court? A brilliant strategy, and the Inquisitor had a tactical mind. Their encounter in Skyhold’s courtyard had been brief. Proper, a Chantry leader greeting a noble and acting head of an influential family. Just another pawn in the Great Game- show that family ties are mended, gain a little more influence in the Free Marches as a result. Maxwell was entitled to his suspicions, to his anger.

But Emily’s hand on his forearm, the reminder to control the rage and see beyond the first glance, cooled his temper. For all the proper protocol and addresses, Maxwell felt the Inquisitor’s hand shake when he took it. Her voice was brassy and bold, nothing like the high, musical laughter he remembered, yet there was a hesitant tremble when she lowered her voice to speak with them privately. She looked... remarkably like their mother, save for the eyebrows and eyes. Their father’s features lay there, but somehow the thick brows that were forever unruly on Maxwell’s face was fierce and elegant on the Inquisitor’s. And then... then his sister carefully positioned herself (short, so short, their mother’s height, maybe a bit taller) between him and his daughter as they walked back into the fortress. A wall to keep him away. A shield to protect his child.

“Henrietta is a delightful breath of fresh air,” the Inquisitor wrote. “Her visit has been a most welcome one, no matter how unintentional it may have been. While I treasure the opportunity to know my niece, she must be grievously missed back in Ostwick. I am happy to provide an escort for her safe journey back to the house, or to host you in Skyhold. I await your response, good ser.

Warm Regards,

Inquisitor Evelyn Adelaide Trevelyan

Postscript- I bear the full blame for Henrietta’s misadventure. In my efforts to soothe your daughter’s worries over my own safety, I ended up minimizing the dangers of Skyhold and the wild. It was foolishness on my part, Ser, not your daughter’s. I will not ask you to forgive a woman grown who ought to have known better, but I beg you forgive your child who adores you.”

What was he supposed to do about a woman who so obviously loved his daughter, so much so that she would throw herself headlong into the path of his fury just to keep Henrietta safe? His sister. His sister!

“We will discuss punishments another time,” Maxwell said instead. His daughter was safe. For now that was what was most important. And the matter of his sister... his sister. Maker’s Breath, she had grown so much! She was nothing at all like the wild child who flung herself off a wall to tackle the older Vael boys who were picking on their littlest brother, screeching the family motto at the top of her little lungs. She was nothing like the ragamuffin who was dragged back to the house by an exasperated nanny, covered in mud and clutching weeds in her chubby fist. There was nothing familiar there, and yet... and yet...

“I’ve a mind to lock you up in a tower with a thousand sewing samplers myself, girl, but your father had the right of it,” Emily sighed. “Henrietta, darling, what were you thinking?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Henrietta burst out, face growing red to match her hair, and Maxwell’s heart clinched in his chest as fat tears rolled down his daughter’s round cheeks. “I- I wanted answers! That’s all I wanted! Of course I went to Aunt Evelyn! She listens! If it were up to you you’d lock me up and never listen to what I have to say while you keep everything a horrible secret!”

“Henrietta-“

“Dearest-“

“My darling niece,” his sister sighed as she finally appeared in the doorway, a tea tray clutched in her hands. Blunt, short nails, calloused fingers. Not an elegant lady’s hand at all. A little... a little like his. Practical. He watched as his sister crossed the room, set the tray down on the table before them, and sat to his daughter’s right.

“I’m afraid we’ve all had a part to play in this mess, though I will shoulder the blame for this misadventure,” the Inquisitor- no, his sister- said, composed. Maxwell noted that, even when her voice was firm and her face a mask of politeness, his sister’s hands trembled ever so slightly on her lap. As if she was aware of his eyes on her, she fussed over the tea set, rearranging the cups and saucers as she waited for the tea to steep. Nervous. She was nervous and trying to hide it, and that familiar twist of anger and pain stabbed him in the gut. His sister was nervous in front of him, afraid of his response and trying to hide it. Secrets again, more and more secrets creeping out of the shadows to strangle them all.

No more. “We all had our part to play,” Maxwell said, clearing his throat. “The only way we can resolve this is to lay our cards on the table. No more secrets... Evelyn.” His sister’s head whipped up, brown eyes wide with surprise- eyes so like his daughter’s. Eyes so like his own, and Maxwell saw both the little sister who was so small he was afraid to pick her up and the woman she grew into.

His sister. His sister! No more secrets. Even if he had to tear House Trevelyan down to its foundations, there would be no more secrets.

#my writing #da drunk writing circle

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sammy431 · 2 years

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Oh, 5 and 10? :)

5. What's a tag you never want to use for your works even when it applies?

Hmm. This is a hard one tbh - I use tags as much as I can so if I didn’t want to have to tag for something, I probably wouldn’t be writing it in the first place. The first thing that comes to mind is “abandoned” or “on permanent hiatus”. I hate leaving fics unfinished and always hope that if I keep the outline, maybe someday inspiration would spark and I’ll be able to finally finish it. So far that’s never happened but hey, I can hope.

10. Top 3 favorite fic tropes

AUs, my beloved.

Soulmate AUs - there are so many different ways you can write soulmate AUs, so many different ways to find soulmates, so much angst you can pack into it. Soulmate AUs added to an existing canon or in another world entirely. Endless possibilities and I adore them all. Bonus points for platonic soulmates and found families.

Daemon AUs - I love daemon AUs with my whole heart because everyone has different ideas for characters daemons and I love their reasoning, it gives such a unique insight into their perspective of the character, what traits are most dominate in their mind. Fascinating character study and I’m always impressed because I’ve never found a way to integrate them naturally into a canon setting in a way I felt confident in.

Time Travel AUs - Give me an Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers/Rivals to Lovers - anything, and I’ll show you prime canon for time travel AUs. Throwing a character with so much character growth back in time and having them have to a) act how they did back then and b) not act madly in love with their partner? Amazing. Or give me a character who’s been sent back in time before losing a member of their team/family and having to wrestle with trying to change it, can they change it, did what they try to do to change it cause it? Aka circular paradox, my favorite angst machine?

Thank you! 💜

#anonymous #ask meme

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

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The neither route was amazing! If you ever get ideas for it pls continue because i found it really interesting. You are a great writer.

Okay! This route actually made me very happy, but unfortunately, as much as I wanted to write it, I didn't know how exactly to do it? If that makes sense?

Context is HERE- The very end of the story is the Neither route.

TW: Anxiety, mentioned nightmares, mentioned Tubbo threatening Ranboo, guilt

I would also like to say that cuddling is platonic.

Left The Game (Plat!C!Ranboo x GN!Reader x Parental!C!Philza) Headcanon/Fic (Part 3???)

Ranboo Beloved joined the game.

(Y/n) (L/n) joined the game.

Michael Underscore-Beloved joined the game.

You and Ranboo tumbled out of the swirling portal and hit the ground with a hard thud, dirt and sand kicking up around you both upon impact.

Before you could comprehend what happened, a small squeal came from behind you and something slammed into your back, causing a groan to pull itself from your chest.

The monochrome male mumbled from beside you, his face practically buried in the grass which caused his words to be muffled.

His crown had rolled a few feet away, and his bags had opened as well, sending a few of his tools scattering, but everything seemed to be intact?

You slurred a mess of words before spitting out the sand that had gathered up in your mouth, attempting to tell the tall male that you were alive.

At least somewhat.

You both knew that you three had to drag yourselves into Phil's house, but the travel was so exhausting. Sleeping in the dirt sounded so tempting...

A quiet whine sounded from the weight on your back, reminding you that Michael had also come into the server with you.

When Ranboo got up, he picked the zombie piglin up from where he sat on your back, allowing you to get up.

You both, plus Michael who was resting on Ranboo's hip, began to pick up everything that had dropped out of the portal with you.

Once everything was gathered up, you three wandered through the iron doors of Philza's home and looked around curiously.

Two cats, one named Pog and one named Champ, came up to you both, chirping and meowing eagerly before pausing suddenly. They most likely expected Phil...

Michael gave a loud squealing noise at the sight of the cats and squirmed out of Ranboo's hold, running over to pet the cats.

Ranboo set off to find food in the chests, scribbling in his memory book the entire time.

You, on the other hand, dug through your bags to find materials you had brought to make three beds. One yellow, one grey and the other (f/c).

Once you placed each of them beside each other, Michael eagerly hopped into the middle one (the yellow one), while Ranboo walked over with plates of steamed carrots and baked potatoes.

"Stressed?" He mumbled softly, watching you stare down at your wrist where the tattoo of a heart with deep grooves in the center rested. The exact place the three hearts tattoos were, "I-I know, it's going to be a little different... But... Maybe it's a good different! ...Please, eat something and then get some sleep. Phil will check on us in the morning, and you know how he can get..."

With a smile, he handed you the plate and a fork before sitting on the floor at the foot of the beds with his own plate. Luckily he had given Michael a golden apple before he had gone to look for food, so the child was quietly drifting off to sleep, "Do... You really think that running was the best option?" You whispered, taking a bite of the vegetables.

"I... What else could we have done?" He frowned, setting his crown beside him before taking a bite of his own food, "We couldn't fight them... and they were definitely not going to let you go so easily. Hell... Tubbo... My own fiance was threatening to kill me because I was talking to you and caring for your burns!" He hissed, tilting his head back with his eyes pinched shut tightly, trying so hard not to cry.

You quickly walked over and moved his plate so it rested on his bed and you wrapped your arms around him tightly. The enderman hybrid eagerly returned the hug, crying into your shoulder so the fabric of your clothes soaked up his tears, "Should... I have just... Accepted their love, and maybe learn to love them back? For everyone's sake?" You whispered, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure.

"Absolutely not!" He yanked himself back from your shoulder to give you a glare, "That relationship would not have been healthy whether you loved either of them or not! They would've kept you locked away like a prized possession, and they would've severely hurt anyone who tried to interact with you!"

"I- I know... But..." You glanced down, but Ranboo tilted your head upwards so you were looking at him, but you still avoided eye contact so it didn't make him uncomfortable, "Your... Your relationship..."

Ranboo sighed, "I know. But, I'd rather that he showed me his true colours and I divorced him again for that, rather than him manipulating someone into loving him... and putting everyone else in danger in response. Now. We have a lot to do tomorrow. Finish eating and get some sleep."

The next morning, Philza practically slammed open the iron doors to his own house, looking a tad bit out of breath and a bit frazzled.

Once he saw you, Michael and Ranboo curled up in a small cuddle pile on the three different coloured beds, he gave a loud sigh of relief and adjusted his striped bucket hat.

Thankfully, the father of Minecraft let you three sleep for a little while before waking you and Ranboo up around noon.

First, he gave you both spare elytra's and so you could keep up with his massive black avian wings.

Ranboo's turned into massive black and purple dragon wings, while yours turned into (f/c) (f/a) wings.

Phil showed you both the end realm and his Endlantis, which he gave Ranboo special water protection potions so he could swim through the waters as well.

This man basically treated you three as if you were his own children!

Taught you how to fly.

Taught you how to cook properly.

Everything!

And basically survive with bare minimums.

Once you both got better at flying, a few months later, Philza rEAAALLY wanted to take you to the massive project he called Nether Void.

"Ready, mates?" Philza walked over and ruffled the hair on both your and Ranboo's heads with a soft smile, somehow unbothered by the blistering heat of the hellscape, "Double check your potions, armour durability and food supply."

Ranboo mostly stopped wearing his crown because it had problems staying on when he flew and because it had a lot of memories tied to it, so he didn't want it damaged. He had also stopped wearing his tux, instead, he wore plain black pants and a white ruffled poet shirt with a purple short cape that had a golden trim and gold chains, which was a gift from Philza.

You on the other hand wore something similar but with a(n) (f/c) poet shirt and a(n) (f/c) and gold cape. Your cape was also a gift from the fatherly figure as well, and so was the (f/c) infinity scarf type fabric wrapped around your shoulder over your chest that helped you carry and protect Michael as you flew, "Yep, we're ready to go, Mr. Dadza Minecraft!" You gave him a mock salute with a smile as he laughed.

Ranboo checked on Michael who was nibbling on a golden apple before he helped put the zombie piglin child into your scarf carrier, "Yeah, everyone seems safe!" He chirped softly as he adjusted his cape to spread his wings, shaking them out a bit in the heat of the lava.

"Let's go!" You cheered softly once you made sure Michael was 100% secure and wouldn't fall out somehow, "Food is stocked up and in my bag, as well as Regen and Health pots, and a first aid kit and two extra totems."

Philza gave you a proud father smile and took off first, hovering in the air for a few seconds as he waited for both of you to catch up. Thankfully, he knew very well that you both likely would never be able to catch up to his skill in flying as he had been born with massive feathered wings hundreds of years ago. You and Ranboo had never been into the air until a few months ago. Once you both caught up, he took off and soared through the burning hot nether.

Phil loved telling you both the stories of the lands. The Blaze Empress who lived in the Quartress, the foolish Ender King...

You and Ranboo always listened to his stories with such eagerness, often asking him to retell the stories when you were having a bad day or just wanted to relax.

The elder male actually greatly enjoyed having two children to raise again, even if he didn't have the best track record with sane children.

When he did leave to go to the DreamSMP, he would always promise you both that he would be safe and NEVER left without saying goodbye, even if he was angry or upset with either one of you.

He never wants his last words to someone to be filled with anger or hatred.

Somedays he would go to the SMP, you and Ranboo would not leave the house, just out of fear that he wouldn't come back, or that Tubbo and Tommy would come out instead of Phil.

Both you and Ranboo were plagued by nightmares very often for the first few weeks and woke up in tears in the middle of the night.

As old as Phil was, he had absolutely no problems comforting either of you in the middle of the night, same with Ranboo.

"Here mates..." He whispered softly as he handed you a hot beverage and gave Ranboo a grass block, "You're safe here... I promise. I would have to allow either of them into the server, and that would never happen... Especially now that I know what kind of people my sons are..."

You sighed and put your hand on Ranboo's back as he sobbed into your shoulder, using the fabric of his shirt to dry his tears before they burned his skin, "I know... I know... There's just the overwhelming fear that suddenly I'll wake up and I'll be back in the SMP and-and..." You decided not to finish your sentence, nuzzling into Ranboo's hair to try and keep yourself calm.

"Last I checked... Techno scared them off from the Tundra... But I haven't been in Snowchester or near the Embassy enough to know what Tubbo and Tommy are doing. But Ghostbur said that Tubbo has gone absolutely nuts... And Sam had to steal the nukes so Tubbo wouldn't destroy anything else... He also said Tommy on the other hand hasn't done anything except visit Dream in prison constantly."

Ranboo gave a shaky sigh and glanced over at Michael, most likely extremely happy that he brought his child along so he didn't have to deal with a psychotic Tubbo... Hell, he didn't know what would've happened to his kid if he did leave him. The thought caused him to give a small sob and hide his face again, holding onto you tighter and practically pulling your smaller form into his lap, trying to silently promise you safety and using you to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"We... we can't thank you enough, Phil... Really... You taught us so many life skills, kept us safe and promised us a safe haven... Allowed us to your private server..." You whispered, before feeling the warm cup being taken from your hand before a hand replaced it.

"Honestly... It's the least I can do to protect you both... You two have become two children to me, and, while I haven't been able to raise you from children like Techno, Wil and Tommy..." He didn't continue his sentence, struggling to form sentences, but both you and Ranboo understood and were quick to yank him into your little cuddle pile/hug, the two of you eagerly hugging him.

"Thank you... Dadza..."

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lostinwildflowers · 3 years

Text

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

Summary: Prince Sawamura Daichi hasn't found a bride, so his parents take things into their own hands. He hates you, for he didn't get to choose the one he married, but life moves on as a royal. What will the outcome of your marriage be?

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, swearing, angst, and otherwise fluff :)

A/N: Hey y'all! This is MY SEVENTH FIC for The Barn's "Royal Rodeo Collab"! I had so much fun writing this fic for Daichi, and I hope everyone enjoys it! -Birch<3

A prince is the image of the kingdom: proud, handsome, informed, powerful, kind. They are expected to learn and make choices that will one day bring them to lead their kingdom and be wise with their power.

And Prince Sawamura Daichi from the kingdom of Karasuno was exactly that. He was well known and respected in the towns across his country, people would flock to greet him whenever he went to the villages to visit and learn about his people.

Everyone knew that he was a kind soul, and wanted to lead Karasuno with a solid will and unwavering, true morals. Daichi was practically the definition of what a prince should be, and for every prince, there should be a matching princess to rule by his side.

However, the beloved prince had yet to find a woman to make his bride, thus leaving the king and queen with few other options. The king decided to take things into his own hands, seeking out a princess from the kingdom of Inarizaki, one of the biggest rivals of Karasuno.

He bartered that if the princess married Daichi, a large chunk of land would be given to Inarizaki as a show of peace between the rivaling countries. That was the deal, and the king and queen from across the sea agreed, shipping off their daughter to the kingdom of Karasuno to get married.

Quick and angry-sounding footsteps boom out as the prince makes his way to a private meeting room, where he knew his mother and father would be alone. Daichi pushes the door open with a deep furrow in his brow, not wavering or flinching whenever the door made loud contact with the wall.

“What the hell is this?” Daichi whispers with fire in his eyes and rage in his voice. His eyes flash as he looks at his parents, who just share a concerned glance. The king sighs and then stands up, turning to face his eldest son.

“My son, you have not yet found a bride, and your mother and I are getting older. You weren’t going to find someone suitable to be queen someday on your own, and we need to have an heir as soon as possible. You will be getting married whenever she arrives, so I suggest getting changed,” the king states, arms folding formally behind his back.

Daichi swears he can feel his heart stop beating in his chest as he glances from his father’s face to his loving mother’s, who smiles at him sadly and nods. Daichi’s mouth falls open as tears burn at the edges of his eyes and he whispers, “I’ll never forgive you for this.”

At that, the prince turns on his heel, whipping out of the meeting room to storm down the halls toward his bedroom. Daichi rips the door open and then slams it closed with yet another loud bang, tears flooding his eyes and down his cheeks as he cries into his hands.

Daichi never wanted this. He wanted to find the right girl on his terms, not his parents. He was sure he would find someone just right for him, that they would fall in love and it would be perfect.

As Daichi brushes away the tears from his eyes to be met with a deep burgundy-colored suit hanging on his dresser, he knows. Daichi knows that even though he has never met you, he hates you.

He didn’t pick you. He didn’t want to marry you. There aren’t any feelings between the two of you, so why does this news hurt so damn much?

You can feel your chest tighten with nerves as you make your way off of your ship and onto the private docks of the king and queen of Karasuno. Your (colored) eyes are scanning and searching the small crowd for the people you would soon have to call family.

A maid of yours slips by, grabbing your bag and other small belongings as you make your way off of the ship, and you smile sadly knowing that this would be the last time you would see her.

Two wide smiles greet you, and there is a moment where you don’t feel nervous as you make eye contact with the king and queen. You lower yourself into a curtsey, and they respectfully bow and curtsey back before welcoming you with a warm hug.

You can hear movement behind the two royals, and as you pull away from the hug, you catch sight of hardened brown eyes, and you feel a subtly gasp leave your lips at the sight of him.

Your husband-to-be, Sawamura Daichi.

The queen regains your attention by gushing out, “You are so beautiful, Lady Y/n, you will do lovely for our son.” The king clears his throat and nods, “It’s lovely to have you, Lady Y/n. Welcome to the family.”

A scoff can be heard from behind the king and queen, who part to let the prince step forward, his eyes narrowed with a scowl. Daichi’s eyes rake up and down your form, an unamused look resting on his features before he mutters, “I could’ve picked someone much better than this.”

The king’s voice rings out as he snaps, “Son, shut your mouth and take your soon-to-be wife, and our guest, to your chambers. You need to get over yourself and start acting like the prince you’ve trained to become.”

Daichi doesn’t say anything, his eyes remaining cold and unwavering as he stiffly offers you his arm, which you slowly take as you glance from him and then to the ground. His words ring harshly in your head- someone much better…

You both remain quiet as Daichi leads you to the palace and into your shared room. It’s very tense as Daichi pulls his arm harshly away from you and mutters, “Your gown is in the closet. You have an hour and I’ll come to get you. Don’t be late.”

You flinch as he snaps the door shut, and you can feel hurt rise in your throat as you turn toward the closet. You hadn’t even said or done anything to the usually kind prince, so why was he determined to hurt you like this?

You set out to work in getting yourself ready, brushing a deep red lipstick to your mouth and some eyeshadows to your lids to match the red-colored theme of the wedding. Soon enough, you find yourself slipping into your dress, but you couldn’t quite finish zipping it up to your neck.

A knock on the door makes you jump as you grasp the front of the dress, eyes wide in panic. A gruff voice calls, “I’m coming in.”

At that, Daichi walks into the room, his eyes landing on you, barely widening before they resume their stoic nature. He strides over to you and growls, “I thought I told you to be ready.”

You furrow your own brows and snap back, “Well if you haven’t noticed, this dress wasn’t designed for the wearer to be the one taking it off and on!”

Daichi’s brown eyes flash with what could be rage, but he doesn’t make any rash moves as he whispers lowly, “Turn around.”

You go to argue with him, but the glint in his eye tells you otherwise, so you shuffle the best you can, moving the dress so that he wouldn’t step on it, but gave him access to your half-open back.

Large and warm hands rest around your ribcage as Daichi’s fingers find the zipper, tugging it upwards in a swift motion before he steps away, his eyes raking over your figure once again.

As you turn to fully face him, you almost expect a compliment from the way his eyes graze your form, but instead, you are left recoiling from the harsh words that fall from his lips.

“I’ll never love you. Not even once we’re married. Never,” he states as he turns on his heel, walking out of the room as he fights the image of you in a wedding dress out of his head.

You rush to follow him, grabbing at your skirts as you think to yourself, And I will never you love, Sawamura Daichi. You are a mean, insufferable man and I can’t believe I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with you.

The wedding is beautiful, and of course, picture-perfect. There are huge pots and wreaths of flowers covering every aisle in the church, intricate ribbons indicating where guests should funnel and go.

The high ceiling of the cathedral allows a mirage of colors to paint the walls as light floods in from the enormous stain-glass windows. People are bustling to their seats as the time gets closer to the ringing of the cathedral bells, their footsteps loud enough to drown out the soft melody coming from the organ.

Daichi looks handsome, smiling as he greets and talks to the honored guests of his wedding. His smile is fake, eyes not quite lit up enough for a man on his wedding day, but the commoners are too daft to even notice.

You, on the other hand, are the epitome of royal beauty. Your dress flows out from your waist in an elegant fashion. It’s not too loose, not too tight, and your hair and makeup look ethereal and regal. You’re waiting just outside the church, a few maids around you to help carry your dress up whenever the bells were to start ringing.

And just like that, people are settled into their seats, and music begins to play right as the bells start to chime. Flower girls, ring bearers, and people who were supposed to resemble bridesmaids and groomsmen are walking down the aisle, smiling brightly at the crowd, for it’s not every day you get to participate in a royal wedding.

Daichi finds his spot at the altar, and his eyes seem to focus on the door handle that he knew led to you. Two maids push the doors open with a wide swing, tossing red rose petals onto the ground as they scurried to the side, leaving the entire cathedral to stand at the sight of you.

There you stood, alone at the end of the aisle. Daichi felt tears stinging at the sore skin at the corner of his eyes, but not because of how beautiful you looked.

No, it was because he was getting married to a woman he had no desire to be with. He was getting married to a woman who he hated.

You make your way down the aisle confidently, blinking in thanks as you hear whispers of encouragement and praises of beauty as you make your way up to Daichi. Once at the front of the altar, you pass your intricate bouquet off and offer your hands for Daichi to take.

His hands are warm and rough in your own clammy and shaky ones, your heart racing as you look up from your entwined fingers to Daichi’s longing and saddened gaze. He manages to keep a smile on his lips, and you try to mimic that to keep up the ongoing production.

The vows pass quickly and meaninglessly, the words empty promises that held no weight as the priest monologued on. You almost forgot about the last part though, eyes so fixed on learning the curve of Daichi’s face while not making a fool out of yourself.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest’s voice says lightly, and you can feel the energy of the room turn electric as the crowd waits for Daichi to kiss you. You note the pain and struggle in Daichi’s eyes as he pulls his hands away from your own, and rests them on your waist instead.

He leans in slowly, pulling you flush against him before he changes his mind. Daichi keeps a firm hold on you as he brings you across his body as lowers you into a full-on dip. Your face is one of surprise as he brings his face to yours, his lips aimed toward your own in a kiss.

To the crowd in the pews, Daichi just pulled you into a dramatic kiss to give the new love of his life a memory worthy kiss. But to you, Daichi pulled you into a bridal dip so that his lips didn’t have to fully rest on your own, and angled just right, could plant his kiss just on the edge of your mouth instead.

The crowd whoops and hollers he holds you there for a second, his lips lingering near your cheek as he whispers, “Try to look like I just gave you the best damn kiss of your life.”

You blink up at him, slightly dazed as he pulls you out of the low dip, his hand lacing with your own as he shoots a wide grin toward his people, raising one arm to wave at them as you regain your balance and smile as you see the maids of honor giggle at the flush on your cheeks.

You almost stumble as Daichi begins to pull you down the aisle, but his firm grip on your hand keeps you from doing so, and he tucks you under his arm stiffly as he continues to play the part of the perfect and happy prince.

Daichi had insisted to his parents that he did not want a reception, and they at least respected that, so they dismissed everyone from the church as Daichi helped you up and into the carriage to take you back to the palace.

You remain quiet as the carriage rolls back to the castle, and you can feel your throat tighten as you realize what’s usually expected of the bride and groom on the night of their wedding.

Daichi is silent as he leads you through the unfamiliar hallways back to the room where you had first gotten changed. He locks the door behind the two of you and begins to take off his burgundy jacket, followed by the sharp black bowtie that had been knotted around his neck.

You swallow shakily when you realize that you can’t get out of the dress yourself and you take a step backward as Daichi turns to you, his gaze sharp and emotionless.

“Turn,” the command comes, and you feel tears returning to your eyes as you flinch under his touch. Daichi pulls his hands away at your sudden movement, and his eyes slightly soften as he mutters, “I’m just helping you unzip. There are clothes in the bathroom you can change into.”

At his words, you carefully shuffle back over to him, where his hands find the zipper at the top of your neck and pulls it the whole way down to the end of your spine. Without another word, he turns away and walks back over to his dresser, allowing you to slip into the bathroom.

You let out a huge and relieved sigh whenever you shut the bathroom door behind you, confident enough that Daichi wouldn’t walk in on you as you step out of the dress and change into a simple nightgown.

You find the hanger that the dress had been on, and do your best to hang it up the way you found it. You go through the motions of brushing your hair and teeth, wiping the makeup off, and mentally preparing yourself to sleep next to your husband for the night.

Husband. You still couldn’t believe that you were married to a man who hated you and had barely shown you a glimpse of kindness.

When you return to the bedroom, Daichi has already slid under the covers and is laying on his back, brown eyes trained toward the ceiling. They glance at you as you make your way over to the other side of the bed, hesitantly laying on your side with your back facing him on the edge of the mattress.

The night slides by quietly, where no conversations or stories are shared. Daichi makes no move to get anywhere near you or touch you, so you let yourself rest without the worry of needing to consummate your marriage.

The next few months are cold and dry as winter comes and freezes the kingdom of Karasuno over. The chill of the wintery season hits you hard, making you numb to your surroundings as you fill in the new role of “Princess Y/n L/n, future queen of Karasuno and married to Prince Sawamura Daichi”.

Thankfully, you could almost call Daichi an acquaintance at this point. He had opened up slightly over the few months from summer into autumn, seeing as he was going to have to live with you for the rest of his life.

The two of you would never talk about the way he would occasionally hold you while laying in bed whenever the night would be extra chilly, or the way he would rub your back when you would wake up from a particularly grueling nightmare.

In turn for his small and kind actions, you would bring him the intermittent gifts of a small lunch, or a snack bag with his favorite fruits that you’d come to learn by just watching. When his meetings and practices were long, he always forgot to eat, so the little gifts caught him off-guard more than they should have.

The small actions between the two of you continued, and slowly but surely the actions started to turn into words. If you were up reading late into the evenings when Daichi finally managed to slip back into your room, he would ask you what you were reading.

Sometimes you would read for him, lulling him to sleep with your voice before you would get up to blow all of the candles out. There was one time you stopped reading because you thought he fell asleep, but then you heard him mumble, “And then what?”

You had to calm your heart and the flush on your cheeks as you began to read again, this time with Daichi’s eyes half focused on your face and half focused on the words falling from your lips.

Nights like these hung in your mind as you found yourself growing fond of the brown-haired prince. You liked how Daichi was treating you, just like how he treated everyone. You could see the soft and kind side to him that everyone raved about, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s the night of your first anniversary as a married couple. As husband and wife. You weren’t really sure what to do, because Daichi hadn’t said anything, and neither had the king or queen.

You were writing at one of the desks in your shared bedroom, scribbling down a letter to send to your mother and father, letting them know how you were. The door to your room swings open, and you are surprised to see Daichi standing in the doorway.

In his hands, he holds two plates of steaming food, with the faintest blush hanging on the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears. He wore a simple, white shirt with black slacks, and yet he managed to look utterly handsome in the basic outfit.

He walks over to you, setting the plates down on the desk before hurrying back over to the door, shutting it a little too harshly. You set down your inked feather carefully as you glance from the food and back over to Daichi, confusion evident in your expression as he sits down across from you.

Daichi pulls out neatly wrapped silverware, handing a bundle to you as he states, “I canceled all of my meetings for this evening.”

You blink in surprise as you take the silverware from his hands and mumble, “You didn’t have to do that, Daichi.” He shrugs as he unwraps his utensils and mutters, “It’s the least I could do. Happy anniversary, Y/n.”

You smile at him as he takes a bite of the pasta and you think to yourself, Happy anniversary, Daichi. The food is quite delicious as you start eating, and you bring yourself to have a pleasant conversation as the two of you munch away.

Soon enough, dinner slides by and you are pleasantly full, and Daichi looks the same. He offers you his hand as he stands up and murmurs, “Shall we?”

You take his hand, much more confidently than you had a year ago, and allow him to help you to your feet. He pressed your hand to his arm, a smile on his lips as he guides you out the backside of your room, into a private garden where the moonlight shined bright.

The two of you walk around the garden in pleasant silence for a while, and you can feel your grip tightening around Daichi’s muscular forearm as you walk. He doesn’t seem to mind it, as he rests his opposite hand over the top of yours as you meander around.

Daichi ends up leading you out of the garden and over to a large field alongside of the castle, and you stumble slightly at the more uneven ground. Daichi is quiet as he pulls your hands away from him, but then securely wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you to his side.

You flush under the close proximity, and you can’t help but blink at him in awe as the moonlight bounces off of his sharp and angled features, making him look even more handsome. Daichi glances down at you and smiles, a real smile where you can see his pearly whites, and you can’t help but smile back.

He guides you onto the ground before sitting next to you, your (colored) eyes focused on the stars and galaxies above you. Daichi watches the sky for a minute before looking over at you, noting the way your hair framed your face and how your lips were just barely parted open.

“I never hated you,” his voice comes out, soft and low in a slow whisper. Your eyes widen before you turn your head to face him, and you are met with a soft and embarrassed flush on Daichi’s cheeks.

“What?” you whisper, fully turning your body to face him as you tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Daichi shrugs and continues, “I was upset that I didn’t get to pick who I fell in love with, so I vowed that I would never love you.”

You nod in return, your eyes moving toward the ground as you begin to pick at the grass while you say, “I was… I was actually excited to be married to you, Daichi. I had heard of this kind and handsome prince from across the sea, and I was excited. And then...”

You sigh at the end of your words and shoot him a tight-lipped smile and Daichi picks up where you left off, “And then you experienced me first hand and decided I wasn’t what you had conjured up in your head. And that I was more handsome than you were expecting.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully shove at him, but Daichi expects this, so he allows your body to move on top of his own, his hands gripping at your waist as you look down at him surprised.

He brushes that stray piece of hair out of your eyes and murmurs, “I’m sorry for being a jerk to you all of these months.”

You relax in his grip and whisper back, “It’s okay, Daichi. You couldn’t have fallen in love with someone you were being forced to marry.”

Daichi doesn’t respond for a moment, his eyes just flick over your face, noting the soft curve of your cheek that’s lit up by the moon. He tries to burn the memory of your eyes twinkling into his head forever.

When he doesn’t respond, you get a little worried. You shuffle from where you lay on top of him and whisper, “Daichi? What did you me-” “But I am in love with you, dammit!”

Daichi’s words knock the air out of your lungs and cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Your heart skips and palpates a few times before setting into a rapid beat that makes you shake your head a few times to clear your thoughts.

“Daichi- I...” your words trail off as your gaze flicks around his face, searching for any hint of deception. When you don’t find any you giggle out, “Well you big doofus, I love you too.”

The prince laughs at the nickname, and you can feel his chest vibrate with the heft of his laugh, and his grip tightens on your waist so you don’t go too far. Daichi slows his laugh down to a soft chuckle before cupping your face gently with one hand.

He brushes his thumb along the curve of your cheek, and you lean into his tender touch as your eyes flutter closed. Daichi runs his thumb just to the corner of your mouth and whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

You give him a simple nod, allowing him to lean upwards to catch your lips with his own while his hand moves to the backside of your head.

This kiss is a lot different from the one he gave you at your wedding.

This one is sweet and warm, and Daichi’s body is soft but firm under your touch, and you are pliant and willing in his grasp. A quiet groan leaves his lips as he tastes your mouth, his lips moving slowly against your own as he pulls you close under the midnight stars.

When you finally pull away to catch your breath you gasp out, “I’ll always love you, Daichi.” The brown-haired prince smiles up at you and replies, “And I will always love you too, my queen.”

It was a long year of back and forths, highs and lows, hate and love. But it seems that whenever you would say “never”, it might have meant “always” instead.

Tag List: @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm@babieweeb @shirari @animated-moon

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