#I finally finished a short after all those abandoned wips!

[scribe-of-stories]

Samuel Smith 3 / Word Search Tag Game

It occurred to me about 3/5 of the way through writing this that the point of the game was to 'Word Search' a WIP with the prompt rather than to write something new with the prompts. Anyways, as per the theme of how I do things I have accidentally ignored the rules. Here's a short story about my character Samuel.

Kinda works out, my WIP doesn't have enough length to play correctly anyways.

@vicstmichael

-Light- Waking up to the goddamn sun shining bright and down on you was no way to start a hangover. Or, at least, I assumed it was a hangover. My head was pounding, body aching, and I was laying face up in the middle of some abandoned parking lot.

Okay maybe that last part implied something worse was going on. I took stock of myself and found some more concerning things. My jacket was in shreds and there were claw wounds on my body. Thankfully those were already healing up, being only partially human helped on that front. The fact that I was also incapable of remembering what caused all this even as I focused was beginning to cause more worry.

I stood, looked around. I was an investigator after all, surely I could solve something if I was at the scene of the crime. Assuming I was at the scene of the crime. What blood I had bled had pooled beneath me and there was no evidence of more of mine elsewhere. My car wasn’t here, and in fact the only vehicle I could find was a smashed up motorcycle some distance away. No bullet holes, so I either didn’t want to shoot or simply hadn’t the chance; but there were gouges in the concrete that matched the claw wound I had on my shoulder.

Something Wyrd had happened. I was alive, and I do not know why. Hell, currently there seemed to be a shit ton that I was missing out on. My phone was broken and I had no clear ride around; thankfully I knew this city and there was a path home, I just had to walk it. The sun was ever present, as oppressive as a foreign emperor; things like me were not meant to spend this long in the Light.

-Wish- “Sam Where The Fuck Have You Been?” were the first words I heard upon entering my office. I swear the space in here used to be larger, but I guess the second desk, magic circle corner, and lead lined safe took up most of it. Oh, and of course there was Ashley; she took up plenty of space.

Empathy kicked down the door of whatever building was currently representing her emotions and demanded that her anger should be mixed with care. The searing rage on her face dimmed and was given a touch of worry. Gave me time to shut the door behind myself and get over to my desk.

“Sam, what happened to you? You’ve been gone for Two Days.” Less anger now, but not gone.

“That’s a damn good question,” I searched my desk for notes, “Don’t remember a thing.”

I caught her up on what I did remember. The lot, the wounds, missing car, missing memory. Apparently the whole in my memory was much bigger than I thought. Two whole days gone from my life, and not a hint of what I was doing was anywhere on my desk; just blank papers and, oddly enough, a blank calling card.

“Ashley, have we been working a case?”

“I do not believe so, no?” she paused, uncertainty creeping across her face “finished that missing Tulpa job earlier this week, I think we’re between jobs?”

“No no, can’t be right,” I kicked a trash bin full of coffee cups, “We only get this stuff when we’ve been out staking a place,” and we always gave the office a clean when a case closed.

It was beginning to occur to us both that neither of us truly remembered the last two days. Ashley had holes in her memories, I had entire blank spaces. That’s when she finally brought attention to my least favorite failsafe.

“Sam, check your jacket pocket,” I did so, “No no, the other one.”

I drew a single notecard out of the pocket, semi-crumpled and used. It held a symbol on it that we had both decided on: a third eye on a head with a blindfold wrapped around it. I was supposed to keep this in my jacket when dealing with one of the worst kind of Wyrd . An Anti-Memetic Entity. We were on a case, one that neither of us remember.

I really wish I had a normal job.

-History- Ashley set up the salt circle, and I got into our safe. There were 100 and 1 precautions to take when working against something like this. It hides by erasing itself from memories, books, pictures, and hell even sometimes from your active senses. The worst of them had a type of global effect; nothing in the world was safe from those. At least, unless you had precautions.

The safe had lead, insolating it from the outside world; and now I had a salt circle doing the same for me. Even if it was in this room it couldn’t fuck with my head till the circle was gone. It was the only way we knew how to keep track of these things: store and view the information while insolated.

I sat down at my table and began to pour over our book of monsters. It took a bit, but I found what I was looking for: a note to myself.

“1409 Cheerwood Lane, client has hired Ashley and I to investigate a disappearance on the street. Ashley thinks it’s a memory eater, which is why we’re going ahead and writing this down. When we first went to look most of the houses were empty, a nearly abandoned neighborhood in the middle of lively suburbia. If I’m reading this note, consider this paper a book-mark; I’m leaving it on the page of what I think it is if you’ve forgotten.”

“It’s a playheist, or at least a Wyrdling of one,” Ashley nodded and repeated it back to me, a test to see if it was currently erasing itself. It either wasn’t or couldn’t. “Takes stories and eats them, or at least the original ones did. Guess we thought this was some kind of offshoot that started eating families instead?”

Ashley tapped a finger on her desk, “I mean, the life of a family has a certain narrative structure to it. A home as the stage, parents and children as the actors. If it has emptied out a whole street, it must be big by now.”

I looked down to the healed wound on my shoulder. Yeah, big. These things were supposed to be a type of fae. A small pixie that steals person poems and the like. It’s why I thought this one was a Wyrdling. Only part fae, it was born human. That would give it the kind of hunger and lust for power that is historically human, and the power to take in an abhorrent way.

“I hate Wyrdlings.”

“Sam, we are Wyrdlings.”

“Don’t remind me, where’s a binding book?”

-Weather- It always rained on days like these. The sun left, clouds rolled in, and now the droplets played a soothing melody of anarchic noise. Street lights lit the road, but every single house was dark. To be honest, I did not entirely remember why I was there. A compulsion led me to look down at my hand and there were a few simple words for me: Bait, 1409 Cheerwood Ln.

Adrenaline hit me like a brick through a window. I could hear it approaching, soft footsteps on wet grass. In a trained motion I spun around and produced my pistol, though now that I had a good look at this thing I doubt it’d do me any good. Still squeezed off a few shots for, you know, the comfort of it.

The thing was larger than me hunched over, its arms long and thick. Claws curled up into fists so that it could walk with its hands. Whole thing looked like a bunny with no hair and no mouth. The worst part about looking at it was the Deju Vu I was constantly getting. I had seen it before, yet I was just seeing it for the first time now. The cycle repeated every moment.

Sadly I was right about the bullets, they blasted through its skin but no blood leaked out. Instead it promptly roared. I was already beginning to forget how it sounded. Goddamn thing was giving me a headache.

Now, despite my appearance as a slightly portly fellow there was a damn good reason I was bait while Ashley was the trap. I couldn’t run nearly as fast as most, but there were paths I knew how to take that others simply couldn’t see. Given time, I could even set up these paths. Though I didn’t remember setting anything up, there were plenty around. Thanks past me.

It reached out to get me with one of its claws, but a small hop backwards produced the distance of a leap. I had no intention of actually fighting this thing, rather I had a destination to bring it. So began a dance of this thing running me down and myself being able to stay just a few feet ahead.

We eventually made it to 1409. It had managed to land one good rake down my back, and my legs were burning; but Ashley stepped in just as I was ready to keel over. This thing may have been bullet resistant, hell there were probably very few ways to actually hurt it, but in the world I lived in there were fates worse than death.

How does one kill an idea? Some would say you can’t, others say you come up with a better idea. Ashley and I had taken to sealing them in books. The Faeling had already stepped too far into our trap, and there was no getting out for it. A Chant, a salt circle, a chained and bound book. Another cursed tome to add to the pile.

I think I remember Ashley asking if I was okay, I responded with “gods I love this weather.”

-Disappointing- Ashley sent me home early that day. There was still cleaning and organizing to do, but she said I looked like hell; and that I needed to go store our new haunted tome anyways. I didn’t fight her on it, the path from our office to my home was a short one and I was glad to take it.

I was through the door before I noticed It. The room was dark to that point of comedy and I let out a long sigh before closing the door. There in the corner of my living room sat, assuming it could sit, my investor. An Umbral Entity that fashioned itself with a Mask and Umbrella.

“Congratulations on your victory.”

I considered telling them where they could shove my victory, but despite my exhaustion I managed to control myself. The first time they dragged me into this darkness I was effectively blind; nowadays I was more than capable of seeing through it. Dropped my book laden satchel on a table and proceeded to the kitchen to make a drink.

“People died.”

“That happens a lot around you. I do not think it is your fault.”

“Dealt with a Playheist, so my memory is a bit foggy. Don’t tell me that you were my client on this one.”

“No, your original client is an unfindable corpse lost to all senses.”

A took a long drink of a screwdriver. Glad to hear I wasn’t being played by my benefactor again, but the truth wasn’t exactly easy to hear about. A part of me was relieved that we were paid upfront for this one; another felt guilty that it was even on my mind.

“So why are you here?”

“Can a Patron not celebrate the victories of their Servant?"

“You haven’t before, and you’re not the type.”

I swear I could see a smile on its mouthless face, and I definitely heard a laugh. My eyes narrowed at it as I became more intoxicated. Historically it had only visited me thrice before: our first meeting, and two jobs it had me do. Interactions tended to be purely business.

“Nonetheless, I am here to congratulate you; and make an offer,” it motioned with an unseen appendage at my satchel. “Your new book, and what is inside it,” a bag of its own appeared, unmarked and made of a pale leather, “For my Satchel, and the Mask making kit inside.”

Again I fought my immediate urge to tell It to fuck off, but temptation snuck in. As a Wyrlding made by this very Entity I knew what making Masks would mean. Another avenue of power, a way to hide myself and take on new forms. An advantage, a way to protect myself, and another step closer to hell.

I swapped my drink for the book and crossed the room with it. Already I was considering my actions a mistake, but still I marched on. “I accept this deal, a fair trade.”

It removed the book from my hands, replacing it with its gift. Despite the weight of power inside, it was light. The leather strap clung to me in a way that felt right, the tools hidden away desired to be used.

“A fair trade indeed.”

My Patron vanished with those words, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my tools. The cost of use would be my very humanity, but I was becoming more and more aware that humans don’t last long in the world I live in. I turned and looked into a mirror, I saw disappointment.

-End-

Anyways, those I tag feel free to either play as intended or just write something based on the words; either way @ me with whatever you post!

I'll tag @kiraofthewind @patrickcharlton-oshea-author @moondust-bard and @p-h-lee

Your words are: Puzzle, Stone, Cold, Twilight, and Relief.

#tag game #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr games #word search tag game #Lexical Earth #Samuel Smith #Apparently I don't know how to edit tumblr posts well

[pantheracatluv1105]

Hello again we are on number 13 of the prompt list for camp nanowrimo 2023 I'm skipping the free Fridays so don't worry about those anyways onward ho it's the 29th so I need to finish as much of this today tomorrow and the next day.

Day 13) Rowan us a bit unlucky I'd say she has a few bullies and her dad's a dick but she's gained a bit of luck with her friends billy and stu are ride or die kinds of friends

Day 14) Yes she does!!! Her name is Jamie Lee after Jamie Lee Curtis because Halloween is one of her all time favorite slashers Jamie is a black short-haired cat with a little white star on her chest she's a really smart cat and is Rowans closest companion

Day 15) nah not really I usually physically write scenes down through out the day when they pop into my head then I speech to text them into my main word doc

Day 16) umm usually on the living room couch when it's quiet or in my bed sometimes too

Day 18) Rowan isn't scared of a lot I'd say for intangible the fear of being abandoned and for tangible I'd say wasps she gives every wasp she sees a five foot berth and freezes if one comes up to her she mumbles no no no till it goes away stu saw this happen once and laughed in her face till she smacked when it finally left her alone

Day 19) Rowans favourite food is probably Mac and cheese with hotdogs it was her favourite meal when she was little and when their mom made it it was amazing she doesn't make or get it very often anymore but whenever she does it brings back all those good memories for her

Day 20) inspiration for this WIP is if you haven't already guessed Scream 1996 I watched scream iv recently and got sucked headfirst into the Fandom scream 1 is one of my all time favorite horror movies and Billy and stu are such fun to write too.

#camp nano april 2023 #camp wrimo #prompt list #fic planning

[lochrannn]

Maybe how to stick to finishing your wip? Setting up fic goals? I have a tendency to abandon my wips for stupid reasons, start something new and so on and I hate it.

Mmmhh, I think this one is hard to answer, cause I really am not usually the type of person who even starts a job, let alone finishes it. Many of my irl friends would point to me as the person they know who procrastinates the hardest on basically anything.

But I think I've worked out why, I personally, stick with writing fic and usually don't abandon anything and write it within a relatively short amount of time.

I have a philosophy degree.

And though I loved studying philosophy, writing fucking essays and term papers was just genuinely the hardest mental work I've ever needed to do. Cause, yeah, sure you can research shit and bring together a lot of existing theories and ideas. But, anon, I tell you, I was actually quite good and suddenly had some ambition about a thing when I was at college (after spending all of my high school years coasting on the privilege of being okay smart and having highly educated parents), which meant I couldn't just phone it in, or didn't even just want to do a decent job, I wanted to write something good.

And fuck that was hard. I spent months tinkering with a paper, having found a subject I found interesting and trying to work out what my angle is, what my unique contribution could be. That basically meant staring at a flickering curser for hours and hours and hours and "thinking" (read panicking).

But somehow I managed to get a decent degree, said thanks no thanks to the offer of doing a phd and got the hell out of college to go do other stuff for a while and then finally trained in a very solid job that allows me to do relatively challanging work with cool people, but I never really have to produce anything or come up with major ideas on my own and that suits me just fine.

However, I accidently stumbled on writing fic as a thing that I enjoy creating/producing, and because we all basically know how a narrative works, most of the points beats along the way are easily set (I don't usually deliberately lift those whole-sale from a different narrative, except for my pride and prejudice and sense and sensibility inspired aus) but I don't kid myself into believing that my fic is in anyway particularly original.

So yeah, I just know which beats I want to hit and then I write what needs to happen to get there. Occasionally that's just pretty straight forward, not too flashy that I can't actually commit to it, but just well enough that, at least that's how it seems to me, the story flows and my "style" or "voice" kind of fades into the background. And then occasionally I come up with something that really makes me quite happy and I personally find rather artistic (like in the fic I posted yesterday, there was a bit that made me feel things). And then it's a bit more challanging but effectively as satisfying as painting by numbers.

So it doesn't scare me to have a story that I "need" to finish, cause I know I can and I know I will. I also have spent years and decades finding cool fics that got abandonned halfway through and hoping for years that they might get updated, so, maybe a little bit of guilt is also spurring me along.

Oh, and honestly, find yourself someone to commit to. Tell someone about your wips (unless of course this puts uncomfortable amounts of pressure on you) and then finish it for them. I talk to @pepperf about most of the stories I plan (unless I want them to be a surprise for her as well), even though she's much nicer than me and doesn't bully me into continue writing and if I abandonned somehting would never say anything. And I made a wip post that I feel I've committed to, because some of them are prompts and just generally I fear I could disappoint some anonymous reader of mine.

I guess, mostly if you want a tip, don't put yourself under too much pressure, but put yourself under a little pressure. Find yourself a hype person, or be your own hype person and feel excited about your stories.

I am, as some anon shokedly realised a few months back, probably a decade or so older than the majority of the people who frequent this website (I've been here for twelve years, I have squatter's rights) so through a mixture of always having a mildly inflated ego and age, I think I have a decent amount of confidence. And I have confidence in my stories. Yeah, I can easily tell how they compare to better writers, but I also think they are perfectly adequate and entertaining and they're the sort of thing I would want to read.

So, yeah, put a little bit but not too much pressure on yourself, and indulge yourself. It's supposed to be a hobby.

(oh, also, I only ever start writing when I'm relatively sure I've actually got enough of an idea to finish it. Everything else is not an abandonned wip, it's a wonderful day dream <3)

#i'm sure this is muuuuuuuuuuuuuuch longer than what you were expecting XD #fic writing #long post #anon ask

[kagiura-akira]

20 questions to ask a writer

i stole this from my suggested feed so feel free to steal this from me too

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 36, 4 are incomplete series. Only 1 of those 4 hasn't been abandoned so I've only got 1 WIP posted on AO3 as of current.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

169,732

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's pretty exclusively Hirano to Kagiura but I tend to move fandoms once every couple years as my interests change.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

From most to least,

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

Not always but it's about a 50% chance that I will. Sometimes if it's just a "omg this is awesome" I don't really know what to say other than thank you so once I thank one comment from the same person that comments something like that once on one fic, if they have similar comments on the other chapters, I tend to not respond to the others unless it's the final chapter

I do like to engage in questions about my writing choices though!

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

I don't tend to lean toward angst endings but maybe that time I wrote a fic about youngjae grieving over a dead lover? Or when I wrote that short yoonseok Time Traveler's Wife AU.

Every ending I write usually has a little bit of hope in it, even if it's angsty. It's relatively rare that everything is doomed in an ending in my fics.

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

I think ABCs of Us has what I would consider the happiest ending but my plans for the kagihira Strawberry Dreams au will end better 😈

8. Do you get hate on fics?

People are nicer these days but I got some flames on my old stuff when I was a teenager. And like. Yeah they weren't that great, but the first one I ever got made me want to cry of course.

I haven't gotten any hate since I made my ao3 account.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, however I had only written T rated stuff until like 2019 when I finally got over my hesitation (God forbid the Internet knows I have... *gasp* thoughts about sex?!?!) and wrote smut for the first time at the ripe old age of 27 lmao. I've only written like. 2 or 3 really explicit things because of that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't tend to. I'm not sure I ever have actually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Only once that I can recall for certain. I had a sasamiya oneshot translated to Russian. I think someone started to translate ABCs of Us several years ago but ended up never finishing.

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

Kind of? I did the writing, but it was planned together with an old friend. It was abandoned though.

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

Right now it's kagihira (Hirano to Kagiura) but past obsessions honorable mentions include 707xMC (mysme), yoonseok (BTS), and SoulxMaka (Soul Eater)

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

That short fic about kagihira bringing a kitten home to the dorm and hanzawa finding out but gaslighting the whole dorm into thinking there's a ghost cat haunting the dorms. It would be a good thing for like. Writing when I'm not feeling up to it. But I don't have a clear vision for it, only a vibe, so it's probably least likely to get done.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I don't tend to repeat myself too much, maybe to my own detriment though. My grammar is typically on par because my self-proofreading skills are good. I think my descriptions of fictional places are up there, too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

My top is writing transitional scenes... It's really painful sometimes.

After that in no particular order are making structured plots for long fics, coming up with titles, how to open/end a story, and filler dialogue.

I do a lot of technical writing for my career so I find that sometimes I have trouble switching out of formal technical science paper mode to creative writing, but that struggle helps my narrative grammar to an extent. Not so much the dialogue.

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

I'm not confident enough to write full sentences in anything other than English. I had a medium understanding of Japanese while I was learning kanji but one day I stopped keeping up on my lessons right as I was starting to grasp sentence structure, and now I can't remember anything because it's been like 2 years and I haven't been using it.

I could construct a sentence in German with confidence but why would I want to do that lol

19. First fandom you wrote for

Bleach 🫣

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I personally have the most fun writing the kagihira parent AU oneshots, but the most satisfying to write was the smut chapter in I'll Love You If You Let Me. I remember ABCs of Us being nice to write too.

#writing #AO3

[ropasart]

having all those cloaking devices, he still can't hide himself <3 and ofc, oblivious Mundy. 😁

#my sfm #1080p #tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #sniperspy #I finally finished a short after all those abandoned wips!

[dragonrajafanfiction]

What is Bondarev (BSB ver) actually like in the novels? In my WIP, I’m trying to be as close to the lore as I can with certain parts, so it’s hard to write in a character that I have no clue what his personality actually is like. Also does he have a full name? Is Bondarev his first or last name? I noticed Herzog has a full name thanks to the Fandom wiki you and Hectab are working on :3

Ask and Ye shall receive. (very long post below with allllllllllll of the stuff you asked for.)

VERY HANDSOME

This was a man who was a sight to behold, handsome and straight, with iron gray hair neatly combed back and styled with hairspray, and a muscular body that was defined and supple. Many would describe him as sexy. The sentry had seen such handsome young officers in Moscow, but this one was too unbelievable. He was actually wearing only military shorts and sleeveless undershirt, sweating in the -10 degree wind. The man fished out a lighter from his shorts and lit it with aplomb, the sterling silver case etched with the words "70th anniversary of the October Revolution".

The sentry could not refuse this kindness and went over to light the cigarette.

"Here you go." The man tossed the lighter to the sentry, "In such a cold place, you need to use aviation kerosene with low freezing point, you should save that for the summer."

The sentry then realized that he still had the unlit lighter in his hand, the man's insight was actually keen to this point. Furthermore, people should be eager to find a warm place to rest at this moment. This also shows that he still has energy left for skiing in such extremely cold weather. The man took out a dark gray officer's uniform from his military duffel bag, and after a few moments, he finished putting it on and solemnly pinned a "Red Flag Medal" on his chest. A minute ago he was a skier, a minute later he had a frown of determination, a young man of power from Moscow.

"KGB Major Bondarev, I'm from Moscow." The man pulled out his papers, "Take me to Dr. Herzog and tell him that this is the moment of survival."

"Yes! Comrade Major!" The sentry saluted.

The man stated his identity in the simplest terms; he was an envoy from Moscow, a key member of the secret intelligence service. In the days of the Tsar, such a man was called a "minister".

********ICE PROOF*************

He pressed the detonator in his hand, after a short dull explosion, the marble base in the snow was blown up, Lenin bronze statue slanted in the snow. The noise of this micro-acoustic thunderstorm was so small that it was muffled by the wind within a few steps. The Black Swan Harbor is notoriously heavily guarded, but the most important aspect is the extreme cold, and standing outside for ten minutes on a night like this can lead to severe frostbite. Because of the blizzard, visibility was less than five meters. The soldiers did not expect anyone else to dare to move outside, and they ignored the fact that Bondarev had an extraordinary tolerance for the cold.

-----

"I sometimes think that people who like to drink can't be bad. So I like you a lot, you know vodka." Dr. Herzog removed the Makolov pistol and handed over a cold glass.

A light struck down from above, enveloping the Doctor and Bondarev. The glass reflected the light, as clear as the most expensive crystal glassware, but it was carved from a whole block of solid ice, pure ice, without any air bubbles, with cornflower patterns carved on the outer wall. The two men gently clinked their glasses and drank the wine in one gulp.

　　Bondarev played with the ice carved glass: "It's wonderful, the spirits wrapped in ice, as moving as a stunning young woman under the appearance of an iceberg. I think my hands will freeze and to it."

　　"Usually people who drink from such an ice glass have to wear leather gloves, and only people like you, Major, who are not afraid of the cold can hold it in their hands. It is carved from old ice in the -30 degree strata and also kept at -30 degrees, making it the coldest drinking vessel for the warmest of wines." The doctor said, He said so, but he was also holding the glass with his empty hand, his slender hand was stable and did not tremble at all because of the low temperature.

****** SUPPOSED ROYAL FAMILY and EXTREMELY RICH ***************

　　"Bondarev, a KGB major, from Moscow, these are the truth. I only concealed from you the name of my great-grandmother, her name was Nastasya Nikolaevna Romanova." Bondarev slowly pronounced this long, awkward name, like a magician reciting a forbidden spell.

　　The doctor was stunned: "Was it the last royal daughter of the Romanov dynasty?"

　　Nastasia was the last princess of the Romanov dynasty, the last dynasty to rule Russia until it was overthrown by the October Revolution in 1917. in 1918, the last Tsar Nicholas II and his entire family were secretly executed by the Red Army. Nastasia was the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, and although she was young, she was given the title of "Grand Duchess", which made her more honored than other royal princesses in Europe at the time, and princesses were required to curtsy and address her as "Your Imperial Highness" during their audiences. It was rumored that she was the only one who escaped execution, and that her name Nastasia meant "resurrection".

　　"Since there is still me, the grandson of the emperor, I can't say that she is the 'last' royal daughter." Bondarev smiled.

　　"How do you prove yourself?" The Doctor asked.

　　"I saw Rasputin's signature at the end of the tunnel, and that heretic who had been canonized had been here before, so I should say he was the one who found this cave, right?"

　　"Yes." The Doctor said, "This cave is his legacy."

　　"Then you must know that Rasputin was a guest of the Tsar and a close friend of Princess Nastasia. The fact that I could find this place means that I have Rasputin's secrets, secrets that he told my great-grandmother. This is the proof of my status as the last royal grandson of the Romanov dynasty." Bondarev held his head up proudly.

　　"So, what were the secrets that Rasputin revealed to Her Imperial Highness?"

　　Bondarev smiled slyly: "I think there are certain things I know that you do not know, and of course there are things you know that I do not, so we might as well exchange information about each other. Then we might be able to sit down and talk about cooperation."

　　"After you." The Doctor raised his muzzle.

　　"This matter begins with my great-grandmother's escape. A Red Army bullet did go through her heart and her body was thrown into an abandoned mine, but three days later she awoke and the wound miraculously healed. It was then that she remembered what Rasputin had told her, that Rasputin said he was willing to share the secrets of the world with his great-grandmother because she, like himself, was God's chosen one. Like Rasputin, she had an unparalleled power of life and could even return from hell. She later married a Red Army officer, and in those days the only way she could gain refuge was to marry a Red Army officer. My great-grandfather, who later stepped into the high ranks of the military, was a very good man and always protected my great-grandmother from revealing her identity. Great-grandmother would sometimes wake up in a dream and shout, 'The Red Army is coming with guns,' and great-grandfather would reassure her, 'I am the Red Army, and as long as I live, the Red Army guns will only protect you.'"

　　"Touching love." The doctor said faintly.

　　"Great-grandmother decided to give up her past identity, so she rarely talked about the past of the Romanov dynasty, with the exception of one thing. She bade her great-grandfather that there were relics of God in the north of Siberia, which the saint Rasputin had told her about. That saint found the cave where God created life on the shore of the icy sea. But he did not announce it to the world, but sealed the miracle with iron water, because the miracle had degenerated into the cradle of the devil, and inside it were hidden fallen angels. Generations of our family descendants have to be on guard against the reopening of that cave, and the day it reopens, the end comes with it."

　　"So you are here to check if we are guarding the miracle properly?"

　　"No, no, my great-grandmother was a good and devout Orthodox Christian, but I am not. I have a great curiosity about everything, and after I inherited the secret, I am bent on finding the miracle. If I were to find it, I would definitely open it and take a look. Not long ago I found an engineering map from the ruined archives." Bondarev drew out the map roll and rolled it along the ice toward the Doctor, "It marks the elevator that leads deep into the tundra."

　　The Doctor scanned the map, "It's not the original map, someone drew it from memory."

　　"It was drawn by a madman who used to be the engineer battalion commander of the 13th Konrad Infantry Division and was ordered to participate in the excavation of the tunnel, after which he was brainwashed by drugs and became a regular in a mental hospital. All he remembered was that he was engaged in a big project on the northern coast of Siberia, and the project was to dig a cave. Suddenly I realized I had found a breakthrough. But as the investigation progressed, I found that the matter was becoming more and more mysterious. Many years ago, the army had built a port in the almost unnavigable northern part of Siberia, about which there was no information, and even the coordinates had been erased. Below that port, sappers had dug through the hard permafrost and opened a long-closed cave. So I decided to come and see for myself. As a KGB officer, I easily applied for a charter to investigate this mysterious port, so that I could drive in as the 'Minister of the Admiralty'. Sure enough, I found Rasputin's signature at the end of the passage, and I finally arrived at the place I had dreamed of since childhood." Bondarev looked around, "But it doesn't look like there's anything interesting here."

　　"I'm sure you noticed when you came here that the closer you got to the door where Rasputin signed, the more bones there were in the tundra, and they all crawled out through a gap in the rock wall. It was those things that Rasputin was talking about when he said this cave would breed demons. But now the cave is dead, and the mysterious forces in the cave have dissipated."

　　"I don't think so. If this cave was no longer valuable, you would have left long ago."

　　"If this cave was really valuable, I should have shot you and monopolized the secrets of this place."

　　"Wait a minute! I have brought you a gift! Won't you take a look at the gift before shooting?'' Bondarev took an envelope from inside his clothes and slid it along the ice toward the Doctor, by which he showed that he had absolutely no intention of resisting.

　　The doctor tore open the envelope, inside was a Swiss bank cashier's check - a cashier's check for $200 million.

　　"This is a rare and large check, what do you want to buy from me with this check?" 'Doc asked.

　　"Not a purchase, just a gift." Bondarev smiled, "We believe this gift will be useful to you. Your research has been going on for decades, consuming huge amounts of state funds every year, and it must not be finished yet, right? But now that the Soviet Union is about to split, your backers have fallen, which means you no longer have access to funding to complete your research, and no one to help you keep it secret."

　　"It does sound like I'm facing a lot of trouble." The doctor said.

　　"Then why not work with my family? We know politics, we know technology, and we know war, and we're willing to invest in this cave as long as its secrets pay off. We can continue to support you in this project and share with you all the benefits it brings. I have already shown my sincerity and told you everything I know. Shouldn't you also tell me what I don't know? After that you will still have time to shoot me."

　　"You are very calm, Comrade Major. You think I won't shoot you if you produce this $200 million cashier's check, don't you?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the Doctor's tone.

　　"There are not many people in the world who can refuse two hundred million dollars." Bondarev smiled, "And killing me wasn't the best option. If I do not return safely to Moscow, the family will know that something has happened to me, and they will not spare you. At that time the secret of Black Swan Harbor will be made known to the world."

　　"Ten times." The doctor threw the cashier's check back to Bondarev.

　　Bondarev froze: "What did you say?"

　　"Your family needs to increase the bid tenfold. I need three years and two billion dollars to complete this research. At that time we will share the whole world."

　　"That amount is beyond my expectations and not easy to raise even for my family."

　　The Doctor laughed coldly: "It seems you really don't know the secret of this cave, in front of which two billion dollars is too small a figure, what is here no one can afford, it is priceless! Your family should be proud to offer this two billion dollars."

　　"Everything has a price, weapons, women, secrets, even souls." Bondarev said.

　　"But who can put a price on God?" The Doctor asked.

-------

The Lenin's mooring is only 40 kilometers from Black Swan Harbor, and they will be here soon. This new flare is so great that American spy satellites will recognize it as an aurora borealis." Bondarev said.

　　"You had said that the Lenin would not come." The doctor said.

　　"Moscow is not prepared to send the Lenin to Black Swan Harbo, but we can, and now the Lenin is at my family's beck and call."

　　Black shadows rose above the sea level, the roar of a giant bee on its wings approaching at high speed, snow dust twisted into a tornado by the helicopter's rotors, red five stars flashing in the white tornado. It was the "MiG 26" heavy helicopter, codenamed "Halo", one of the pride of the Soviet military industry. The helicopter hovered over the cast iron dock, the searchlights broke through the haze of the night, the hatch opened, and five captains lined up, saluting Bondarev. The communication lights below the belly of the plane blinked up, signaling greetings to Bondarev in Morse code.

　　"Glad to see you're safe and sound, Your Imperial Highness!" The doctor read out the greeting.

　　The fact that they called Bondarev "His Imperial Highness" instead of "comrade" meant that the helicopter and the Lenin on the icy sea were no longer loyal to the Soviet Union, but to the heir to the Romanov dynasty. The name Romanov is about to shine again after almost a century of obliteration in history, and with the power of the Dragons, it is not impossible for them to re-establish hegemony on Earth.

　　Bondarev handed a letter to the Doctor: "This is a letter I wrote to the family, please read it."

　　The Doctor scanned it and handed the letter back to Bondarev.

　　"If things go well, we will be able to relocate within a few weeks." Bondarev handed the letter to a captain who descended down the zip line, "We will build you a brand new research base in the warm and pleasant Baltic Sea, along with a vacation villa."

　　The captain placed a mouthful of boxes at the doctor's feet, containing a case of aged Red Label vodka.

　　"A small gift, so you don't have to worry about running out of booze until we leave Black Swan Harbor." Bondarev said.

　　"I guess I picked the right partner." The Doctor smiled.

***** HE VERY STRONG AND CAPABLE ***********

Bondarev looked alert, his muscles bulging under his uniform. He was a highly trained soldier, capable of breaking a wolf's neck with his bare hands, and had no need to fear this delicate boy, but not daring to take it lightly in the presence of something supernatural, he adjusted himself to a state of immediate danger.

------

Bondarev noticed a transparent figure flashed from his side. It was just a short blink of an eye, a fraction of a second, but Bondarev was trained to the rigors of the KGB and he was absolutely certain it was a person!

-------- IS A HYBRID THAT HAS NO ISSUE KILLING PEOPLE, INCLUDING KIDS ------------

The lieutenant on duty in the boiler room collapsed on the duty desk, a bottle of Red Label vodka still in his hand. A steel-core bullet had penetrated his heart, and Bondarev stood behind the lieutenant with his Makolov pistol.

---

At that moment the doctor heard the wind change behind his head, and the beam of the searchlight struck him. He turned sharply and saw huge black shadows hovering in the air, their rotor blades churning the snow into a flurry. It was Halo, the heavy helicopter from the Lenin, which had ventured to Black Swan Harbor in such bad weather.

　　"Didn't you say Halo couldn't fly in a snowstorm of this magnitude?" The Doctor froze. Something hard pressed against his back, it was Bondarev's Makarov pistol. One by one, the steel-core bullets pierced the Doctor's chest, tearing the aging heart into a million pieces. The Doctor spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with fragments of his lungs, which had been destroyed in the process. He braced himself and turned his face to look at Bondarev, his eyes filled with shock.

　　"You can't complete the research without me ......," he hissed.

　　"We didn't even try to finish your research." Bondarev's pupils swirled with a gorgeous gold.

　　"Who the hell ...... are you?"

　　Bondarev held the Doctor in place and injected him with adrenaline using an air needle, "Hold on one more minute for the most magnificent scene."

　　The Black Swan Harbor suddenly trembled up tremendously, the sound of a series of explosions spread upward from the ground, but it was not a vacuum bomb detonated in advance, if it was a vacuum bomb, a square kilometer around would be leveled to the ground. A fire rose, and countless pieces of frozen earth spilled onto the frozen sea.

　　"Engineering explosive mines?" The Doctor asked in a hiss.

　　"The new engineering burst mines, even 10,000 years of permafrost, as long as the right eye is chiseled can be blown up. Now in a place you can't see, there is a huge hole with a depth of 180 meters, leading to Rasputin's cave, where we will use the laser to cut through the ice and take away the precious collection that originally belonged to you." Bondarev said, "You have been isolated from the outside world for too long to know the progress of engineering, it is no longer difficult to cut through the tundra in an instant today, once I probe its location."

　　"You ...... want to take that dragon!" The Doctor understood.

　　"Yes," Bondarev replaced the magazine, walked over to the sled, and fired four bullets into the chests of each of the four children.

　　The children died without a struggle from the potent hypnotic drug. It was pure carnage.

　　"You are not the only one who is willing to sacrifice human lives for a great cause." Bondarev pressed his chest in silence for the children he had just killed, looking reverent.

#Dragon Raja #Lore Post #Major Bondarev

[cg29]

Fanfiction 21 Q&A Tag Game.

Answer the 21 questions then tag anyone who’s fics you’d like to know more about.

1. What fandoms have you written for?

Apart from 1 fic all of mine are Thunderbirds.

2. How many works do you have on AO3 &/or FFNet?

I’ve 21 on A03 & 22 on FFNet. The extra fic that’s not currently on A03 is a short I wrote many years ago set in the OZ universe. Plus - 47+ mini fics in my Pic & Mix collection.

3. What are your top 3 fics by kudos on A03 &/or Favs on FFNet?

A03 Kudos:

93 - Virgil Drabbles.

79 - Pick & Mix.

70 - Gone.

FFNet Favs:

50 - Gone.

22 - Virgil Drabbles.

21 - Pick & Mix.

4. Which 3 fics have the least kudos & Favs?

A03:

6 Kudos - Birthday Wish.

7 Kudos- Moving on. Episode TAG Flame Out.

8 Kudos- Scayo. Episode TAG HyperSpeed / Bring on the Fluff

FFNet: only including TAG fics.

1 Fav - Bring on the Fluff.

2 Fav- The Games.

3 Fav - The retribution of Scott Tracy.

5. Which Fic has the most comments and which has the least?

A03 Comment Threads:

Gone, 72.

Scayo Episode TAG for Hyperspeed, 0 comments.

FFNet: Only inc TAG.

Gone, 347.

Scayo Episode TAG for Hyperspeed, 2.

6. Which complete fic do you wish had gotten more attention?

Moving on, episode TAG Flame Out. A fic explanation for Grandma Tracy’s 8 episode absence until her hysterical return in Flame Out.

7. Have you written any crossovers?

I’ve started 1 (only put 1 chapter up so far) a cross between Thunderbirds and Hunger Games.

8. What is the craziest fic you’ve written?

The retribution of Scott Tracy. I wrote the short crack fic while high on pain meds, and it shows! 😂

9. What’s the fic you’ve written with the saddest ending?

Definitely White Light: I was actually in a fairly good mood when it popped in to my head, but it was one of those that demanded I write it down. Finished it in one day, and personally (even though I cry whenever I read it) I think it’s one of the better shorts I’ve written.

10. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Considering how much angst it contains probably Gone.

11. What is your smuttiest fic?

The night of Anderbad, it’s set after the original series episode of the perils of Penelope and features some Virgil/Penny hotness.

12. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, all were anonymously sent and are usually deleted and forgotten about. The two that have stuck in my mind were for The Tracy Family - apparently saying that I accepted prompts for future chapters meant I was stealing other peoples ideas and I was a rubbish writer who couldn’t come up with my own content. The other was for Bad Day, and they sent a homophobic rant because I wrote Virgil and Brains in a relationship.

13. What is the nicest comment you’ve received?

I love all my comments. I did receive a private message once on FFNet (which I kept until FFNet decided to delete it) saying that I was their favourite writer and they had read Gone multiple times. ☺️ I can’t remember who it was but the message helped me through so many ‘I’m crap at this’ moments and inspired me to write many more TAG fics.

14. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware.

15. How many fics do you have marked as incomplete?

I have 8 in total, also around 10 WIPS that I’ve only shared bits of on here. 😅

16. Which of the WIPS will most likely be finished first?

It will most likely be Reflections as I have the final 2 chapters planned out and a some in 1st draft stage.

17. Which WIP are you looking forward to finishing?

Avalanche. I’ve really enjoyed the challenge for this fic and personally think it’s one of my better multi-chapter stories. No idea when it will be complete. I was a little bit stumped with the next few chapters. I do know how it ends though.

18. Is there a WIP that you’re considering abandoning?

All the posted WIPS that I’ve put up should hopefully get completed at some point. I’m currently expecting The Games and Virgil Drabbles to be the last ones to be marked complete. However, there are a couple of fics I’ve only shared early chapters/snippets for on Tumblr which may unfortunately go no further - if I decide to leave them, then I might post as they are in my Pick & Mix collection or on their own.

19. Which complete fic would you consider rewriting?

I won’t rewrite it but I had considered Tracy Family. There are some bits I’ve cringed at when reading again, foreshadowing ideas I had after posting . I also had an idea for a part 2 but it would only work if I rewrote parts of it.

20. Which complete fic is your favourite?

Bad Day. This was a self-indulgent fic which included one of my favourite tropes, (repeating days) contained a heap of Virgil suffering lows and highs and although I’m no longer into the OBannon/John pairing some of my other favourite pairings are included.

21. What’s your total published word count?

According to A03 it’s 246722 😮

Tagging: @burningcowboyhoagietaco @gumnut-logic @janetm74 @psychoseal @womble1 and anyone else who’d like to join in.

#21 questions #Fanfiction tag game #thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29 fics #thunderbirds are go

[fandumb-thoughts]

First-Sentence Breakdown

I saw this on my dashboard and I thought I might as well try it for the hell of it. The rules were “List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag some of your favorite authors!” I don’t know any authors on tumblr, really, but I’ll be doing everything else lol.

1 - Untitled WIP fic where Obi-Wan was never freed after he was enslaved at 12/13-ish and ends up on Tatooine with Shmi and Anakin.

“There’s a storm coming,” said the boy who burnt as bright as a thousand stars, eyes so blue and vast that Qui-Gon might call them endless.

2 - Chapter 17 of my Castlevania fic A Backwards Fate, still being written, titled “The Speakers in Action!”

The stink of death hung heavy in the air.

3 - Chapter 2 of my Star Wars soulmate au Mosaic (Obi-Wan), which is the first of many fics that I plan to write within this au.

Obi-Wan was nineteen when he first saw the color green.

4 - Chapter 6 of my Star Wars time travel fic Companion of the Ancestors titled “He cut off my HAND”

Padawan Yan Dooku scowled fiercely, knowing that his master couldn’t see it from his perch on Yan’s shoulders.

5 - Untitled scene in which Obi-Wan briefly reunites with Neild (from the Melida/Daan arc) during the Clone Wars Era

Obi-Wan thought often of his time on Melida-Daan.

6 - Chapter 6 of my Senator Skywalker/role swap au Our Paths They Will Converge, titled “Bentu Depuraak”

Anakin made it across the desert, that first night.

7 - A scene that I wrote based off the fic Ib’tuur Jatne Tuur Ash’ad Kyr’amur in which Maul and Obi-Wan have a shared vision of the canon future while in the generator room in The Phantom Menace titled Today is the Day that Nobody Dies.

Qui-Gon stared at the datapad.

8 - Chapter 11 of my media-centic Clone Wars fic The CloneNet, titled “Showing Off” This one is a little weird to pick a first sentence for due to structuring.

A group of young troopers are in the middle of painting their armor for the first time.

9 - Final chapter of the three-part Castlevania fic Pining Idiots, titled Strawberry Blonde.

Sypha was yelling something at Trevor, halfway across the castle.

10 - First WIP chapter of what I call my Skywalker Time Travel au, very similar premise to Companion of the Ancestors.

Leia was going to scream.

11 - A (likely going to be unfinished) scene in which Valkyrie realizes that Thor and Loki are extremely young in Asgardian standards and reacts appropriately.

It was hardly anytime into their journey to Midgard when Valkyrie took Thor by the arm and all but physically dragged him to a private hallway.

12 - Chapter 4 of my aged-up Percy Jackson HoO fic (it’s been a decade since the Titan War, but the new characters are all their original canon ages) The Heroes of Tomorrow Follow Those of Yesterday.

Hazel finished introducing Percy, but Nico couldn’t move.

13 - The start of the second part of my omegaverse Star Wars fic (completed!) titled Trouble Comes in Pairs, and it’s Not Always Bad.

Vader nearly left Bespin with the nine troopers that he had allowed to remain with him.

14 - A poem titled “on napping”

I took three naps today / while the girls next door moved out.

15 - A prose poem titled “to the boy”

who said “she could suck my dick.”

16 - A poem titled “heart, pounding”

she escorted me like a princess, / along the curb I balanced on, / sky darkening / from evening to dusk to night.

17 - A poem titled “girls of bone”

i was never fat— / barely even chubby— / but i always felt like i was.

18 - A poem titled “rapunzel”

there’s a smudged handprint / on the outside of my window / eighty-five feet off the ground.

19 - A poem titled “A Baby Cried And”

I think, ‘I must have been a mother once.’

20 - An untitled prose poem:

A girl slipped and fell in some loose gravel, or maybe it was a tiled floor—a stray root in her path, a raised step, an abandoned toy, or just because she was off-balance.

I definitely seem to favor either dramatic, short first sentences or long descriptions as I jump in mid-scene. I think that my poetry is a little bit more towards the second, although the first “line” (which might be the first sentence?) tends to be quite short and sharp. 

Also I write a shit ton of Star Wars fics lol.

#please let me know if you want to know any more about these #especially the poetry #i took a class last semester which is where some of them come from #but i want to keep writing them #there's just no motivation for me if i don't have /someone/ excited with me #poems #poetry #creative writing #my poems #fic rec #my fic #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #nield (star wars) #shmi skywalker #anakin skywalker #tatooine slave culture #soulmate au #satine kryze #a backwards fate #castlevania #trephacard #companion of the ancestors #qui-gon jinn #count dooku #master yoda #ahsoka tano #senator skywalker #our paths they will converge #darth maul

[i-lionheart]

IT'S NOT A WIP ANYMORE BITCHES!!!!!

Ok so i wrote a fic that's basically this post by the-modern-typewriter but i took the concept and some main elements and rewrote it as a kylo ren self insert because of course i did i wanted a comfort fic and i refuse to apologize its not plagiarism i cited my sources k thx

anyways this is a Kylo ren x fem!reader (but the only time reader's gender is referenced as when they're referred to as "good girl" so make of that what you will). Angst, torture mention, self harm tw, suicide tw, depression tw, safe for work but implicit nudity. Also there's none of that "y/n" or (name) shit because I just personally hate it. I made this for me not you but it totally fukin slaps so read on at your own risk lmao

Tell Me Why

“You’ve been astonishingly resilient,” Ren said softly. “What a shame it has to come to this.”

His gaze roamed over you lazily, possessively, drinking in the sight of you. You were bound, gagged, and strapped down to an interrogation table. In his personal quarters, of all places.

You would trade every star in the galaxy to be anywhere but here.

Ren picked up a syringe full of clear, thick liquid off the tray of wicked-looking instruments that lay beside you and held it in front of your eyes. “I’m expect you’re quite familiar with this," he said, voice deceptively casual. "The resistance undoubtedly trained you to resist truth serum as insurance against the unthinkable. Obviously,” he said, indicating your current predicament, “They are fools.”

So it would be truth serum. You could handle this easily enough. All you had to do was tell him the truth, but not the one he was looking for. Simple.

Some miniscule change in your expression must have given your hubris away. Ren chuckled. “You poor thing.” he said. “Do you really think that we haven’t made… improvements on this since my grandfather held your precious General captive so long ago?”

You swallowed thickly, blood pounding through your temples as your breath caught in your throat. What could he possibly be talking about? Truth serum had been perfected in the days of Old Republic and hadn’t changed for centuries.

What advantage could he possibly hope to have?

Ren lowered his face until his eyes were level with yours. Though every fiber of your being screamed at you to look away, you met his gaze, trembling.

“You know as well as I do that the Old Republic, the Jedi, were weak. Fools,” he spat. “They were afraid to do what was truly necessary to meet their goals. The First Order has no such weaknesses.”

He lowered his mouth and whispered rapidly in your ear, his breath ghosting along your skin. “Unfortunately for you, I am not a Jedi, and this will hurt quite a bit. I only wish that I could remove that gag and hear every shriek that comes out of that pretty little mouth without risking you biting off your own tongue.” He clucked his tongue softly as he stood up. “What a shame.”

He replaced the syringe on the tray and selected a small pair of medical scissors, then began to methodically cut through the fabric of your sleeve. "I would apologize for the outfit," he said sardonically, "but I rather suspect that you have much bigger things to be worrying about at the moment."

Once your sleeve was split all the way to your elbow, Ren set the scissors down and set his leather-clad fingers to the task of spreading the halved fabric of your sleeve to fully reveal your bare skin. He was agonizingly gentle, as though trying to spread the petals of a struggling flower and help it bloom.

His work complete, his eyes and his fingers roved over your exposed arm, relishing your vulnerability. If you weren't paralyzed with fear, you would have squirmed, thrashed, done anything to flee his scrutiny.

Force, please, you thought desperately, don't let him see them. Please, anything but that. I'll give anything. Let him do what he wishes to me as long as they go unnoticed. Please.

As though sensing your frantic pleas, Ren's eyes locked onto your wrist, onto the unnaturally straight cuts and scars criss crossing your skin.

"What is this?" he said softly.

Shit.

It was the last straw. The spell of fear holding you in place broke. You twisted your arm as far as you could in the restraints, trying to hide what it was far too late to conceal. Instantly his hand shot out and pinned your wrist to the table as you writhed in his grasp.

"You know as well as I do that you cannot take back what has been revealed. The mynock is out of the bag, little one. Are you going to lie still, and let me finish what your own foolish actions have started? Or am I going to have to make you?"

Realizing it was of no use, that you were absolutely, utterly powerless, you stopped thrashing. Tears glistened on your cheeks. Your breath hitched as choked sobs pushed their way past your gag. You fought for every inhale and exhale, lungs crushed under the weight of your own rising panic.

But bewilderingly, inexorably, you were still.

"Good girl," he breathed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand from your wrist. When you remained motionless, even without his grip holding you to the table, his hands moved to your elbow and, abandoning those damn scissors, he began to finish what he had started.

He tore first one sleeve, then the other, and made short work of everything else until you were laid bare before him. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Kylo Ren's eyes roved over you, taking in every mark, every scar, every bruise on your bare skin. You wanted to fight it so badly, wanted twist yourself away from his agonizing scrutiny, but all you could do was shut your eyes and pray for it to be over. His burning gaze held you immobile like the galaxy's most powerful vice.

"I know what marks I've left on this body, little one," he said, voice unbearably tender. "I know what scars one gets from doing what we do. But this-" his fingers brushed your wrists, your thighs, your torso, tracing the bar code that you had marked yourself with in so many places- "this is not that." His voice, though still intolerably gentle, was taut, hinting at the tightly leashed rage that you could feel bubbling just below his deceptively calm exterior.

For so long, you had been terrified that someone would find out, would ask an unavoidable question, would see something they shouldn't have because you slipped up.

You hadn't expected it to be him.

What the hell was he going to do to you?

After another excruciating moment of consideration, he reached up and unbuckled the gag, carefully sliding it out from between your teeth and setting it on the tray beside the scissors and abandoned syringe. You worked your jaw, gratefully bringing a bit of relief to your sore muscles and parched mouth. You were so tired. So, so tired, too physically and psychologically exhausted to care what happened to you anymore. You had already been on this table for an eternity too long. Let him get what he wanted from you and finally, at long last, leave you for dead.

"What is it?" he asked evenly. "Control? Punishment? Or something else?"

Your eyes snapped open, wide with fear and shock, only to find your gaze locked together with his.

"What?" The word came out of your mouth in a grating, dry rasp.

"You heard me," he said. "Why do you do it?"

How dare he. How dare he. The absolute nerve he had, to strap you to a table you and torture you endlessly, and then find out about this and pretend that he cared.

"Fuck off," you said.

"That's no answer."

"You don't even care." You glanced away, eyes flooded with silent tears that you were too embarrassed about to let him see. "No one does."

You flinched as you felt a leather glove hand touch you, then realized that he was caressing your face. Stroking your hair. Comforting you, exactly where you needed it. Holding you like your mother did, so long ago. Touching you the way you had been starving for for so long.

How could he possibly know what you needed so desperately, much less be doing it of his own accord? What happened to him?

You finally mustered up the courage to look back at him, despite the blinding tears and your fear of what you might see. When you finally wrenched your gaze up to meet his, you were shocked by what you saw.

Pity. Concern. Genuine worry. Anger, not at you, but at the people who watched you spiral so far down and did nothing.

All this he told you with his eyes alone.

How was this possible? Stars' sake, he was your enemy. He hated you. So why was he looking at you like he was trying to offer you a lifeline when he was supposed to want you dead?

"Why are you doing this to me?" you whispered.

"Answer me," he said quietly, "And I'll stop."

You took a rattling breath in, and shut your eyes.

You had no choice.

"It's everything," you said softly. "The control. The punishment. All of it." You opened your eyes again and looked back at him as a sob built in your throat. "It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

---

"It keeps me alive, even though I don't deserve to be."

The words hit Kylo like a dagger to the heart.

So that was why you had never acted on the desires he sensed in you, why you wanted to join him so badly but rejected his offers at every turn. That was why, when he offered you his hand, his teaching, his service, a position by his side, you almost took it before you wrenched yourself away. The Resistance never understood you, saw you as nothing more than a tool for a job. And you didn't think you deserved the what he could provide.

The sobs he had watched you struggle against for so long finally spilled past your lips in a tidal wave. He shushed you as one would a frightened animal, brushed away your tears with his thumb, and quickly undid the restraints at your ankles and wrist. He slid his arms under you and lifted you as easily as though you were a child, one arm under your legs to support your weight, the other pressing your head to his chest as you sobbed, the Force supporting you where he couldn't.

"Easy now," he said, voice low and soothing. "Easy, easy, easy- there we go, come on, come on, there's a good girl. I've got you. I've got you. You're safe now. You're safe. Good girl, come with me. Come with me, now."

He kept up the constant stream of reassurances as he carried you to his bed, holding you with one arm and the Force as he pulled back the covers with the other before setting you in the bed. He kicked off his boots and slid in beside you, pulling you close to his chest, telling you what you had needed to hear for so long.

You were going to be okay, he told you. He promised. Vowed to keep you by his side and give you everything he had to offer, fulfill your every need.

He'd give you the galaxy, if you asked for it. But all you needed was him.

The two of you stayed there until your sobs subsided, his hand absently stroking your hair, your tears soaking his shirt. Neither of you said anything, but you both knew.

You were finally where you belonged. And you were here to stay.

#kylo ren #star wars #kylo x reader #kylo x you #kylo x y/n #kylo imagine #torture mention #sh tw #implied nudity #power dynamics #tw depression #tw suicide #ask to tag #or dm to tag that works too #idk what this is but i like it #fuck it

[lairofsentinel]

Do you think Oskar Fevras the artist whom you can buy in any way mirrors Gale? His story reminded me a bit of Gale’s in the whole hung up on your first love thing

Hello there!

Let me explain you how I understand Oskar Fevras. I think that may be an important key to see what I'm going to be concluding.

Oskar has the pretence of being a noble, and likes too much wealth and fame. His patron is his betrothed: Lady Jannath. The Jannath are a  family of wealthy mine-owners in BG, who, according to the Main Char's "gossip" knowledge, have been passing through a scandal when they realised that Oskar was a commoner. Apparently Oskar is known as the runaway groom for this.

I'm not so sure to believe that the problem in all his drama is his commoner past. But he doesn't clarify it in a very explicit way. We only have this information from the narrator and it's like a "rumour", something you picked in the air in the city's gossip, so it can be slightly different.

He clarifies that the date of the marriage was never set... but clearly the intention was there. What happened? "Complications", he adds.

Oskar tells you that before his fame as a painter and his affair with Lady Jannath, there was another woman he wanted to spend his life with [which make me assume he was with her until the last moment of the proposal] but when he was offered marriage with Lady Jannath, who gave him a better future because her wealth, he thought "important to tell her about his past".

These lines are a bit inconsistent in their logic, no? You love a woman you want to marry, but then another one very wealthy, asks you marriage and you consider to tell her "you are a commoner" [if we assume the rumour is true].... There is no much connection with the concepts... unless Oskar is saying other thing in his vague way of explaining this story.

In my opinion, he is saying:

I was with this woman I wanted to spend my life with. But on the other hand, I wanted to be famous and wealthy, so I started a serious afair with a person who would support my art: Lady Jannath [it's implied he became her lover without never telling her he was with the first woman]. All was done in order to have fame and wealth. Then Lady Jannath proposes him marriage, and he considers it's reasonable to tell her about "his past" [his past as in, there is another woman, there was always another woman]. This scandal triggered, and because we are talking about a noble family in BG, we know they can control rumours, so they preferred to make it about his "commoner" past instead of his double-cheating.

When he explained his past to Lady Jannath, he was "forced" to escape and think about who to "choose". He doesn't know yet. "Fame and wealth suit me very well." But when he thinks in his first love... he hesitates. He says all this with a very light tone, yet, he makes of this a big dilemma, almost a performance of drama: to choose between true love or wealth to develop his skills.

I may have taken all this a bit more serious if it weren't for the last line he says. If something I've learnt by reading a lot of books of narrative and how to write narratives, is that professionals don't put useless lines in the character's mouths to be wasted. They have meaning.

When the rescue is finally done, he asks for money to fight the "discomfort of the road", and, unless this has been changed in this last patch [I don't play BG3 since patch 2 or 3] he says something that makes you understand that he is going to spend this money in alcohol [he says something along the lines "well, I should endure the road sober then"]. So this last bit showed us that he is not really a very trustworthy person, he hides the truth just to take some extra benefit of the situation [we don't see a real struggle in all this, more like a performance of a struggle].

It's true the situation is a bit vague and this interpretation may be wrong, but Oskar is not exactly an honest char. He has his love for over-dramatisation and present himself as the victim in situations that are not thaaaaat bad.

Now, how all this is similar to Gale? I'm afraid I don't see much similarity, sorry. You can stretch things a lot to make Lady Jannath to look like Mystra [Mystra is the one who gave Gale the deepest connection with the Weave, which is something that brings him joy and sense in life to Gale. She is a kind of "patron" for Gale? It's too stretched, Mystra is a goddess of particular behaviour in her lore] ... but you also can connect her with the first woman by using the weak link of "being Gale's first love". Where the Main Character fits in all this analogy? How all this situation has a relationship with Gale, his abandonment issues caused by a powerful, immense entity as Mystra, and how he made dire mistakes to get her attention again, like all devotees do in this crazy Faerûn? I don't see it, sorry. Gale's first love was Mystra, the most powerful goddess of the pantheon of Faerûn. Oscar's first love was a mortal woman. I'm afraid I can't see much to relate there beyond the fact that "people have first loves" that imprint a strong effect in a person's life [which is true for almost all humans in real life].

I'm not sure if maybe this question is motivated by all those terrible takes that Gale receives in this fandom. I think a lot of people have serious problems with the fact that Gale has an ex. For this, people are a mixture of being offended by that and also treat the party scene as if it were a "big" revelation, which is not?. Sure, he has an ex that inspires him complicated emotions but it's clear he wants to get rid of that event and move on.

Gale never plays two sides. He is always very clear about the fact of having secrets, about his boundaries [another thing that the fandom doesn’t forgive him], and how complicated is for him to speak about Mystra. If you get nice rolls, you can even tell Gale that he is dreaming with Mystra [like, the game makes you AWARE of it XD]... And he also tells you that the tadpole dreams are about power and desire... I mean, if the guy says that, and then dreams with Mystra....why some people are offended/surprised after the party!??? haha. The biggest mystery in this fandom.

Sure, the scene is not handled in the best ways, there are some weird lines, everything looks so high-school cheap drama. I get that... I don't know, we have to blame it for being Early Access and for Gale not being Larian's fave.  But well... Gale has an ex. It's a fact, and one can know that very early if the fucking game couldn't be soooooo shitty bugged with his char.

Here is one of my videos [very old patch as you can see] where we can see the second dream: He says "These dreams are about desire", I pick the option of Mystra. "Yes, I dream with Mystra". You know by your own dreams that these dreams are very sexual in general... So, conclusion? Gale has an ex.

Oskar is playing with two women at the same time in the worst case scenario. In the best one, he abandoned his first love to follow wealth. Her first love [that, let's be honest, how much he loved her that he had no problem to cheat on/abandon when it comes to fame and wealth?] was put aside in favour of this noble. Then he leaves the noble one because he is unable to choose. He was the one who abandoned [or cheated, we can't say completely because it's vague] two women, not the other way around... Plus, to make things even more different, there is this small detail that the fandom always seems to be blind about because most of them only know Dragon Age lore: Mystra is the most powerful goddess in the damn pantheon xD Gale was a plaything in her grasp [this is the worst case scenario; I have a secondary interpretation, more kind to her, focused on Mystra's point of view]. But there is something very strong here that make these comparison too out of any frame to compare: She is not a normal woman... her power is not even compared with Jannath's. She is a Goddess.

So, in short: I'm afraid I don't see much in common. XD I mean, everyone has exes, every person with some age has a past even in Faerûn. Sure, this is Faerûn, so exes can go wild, I get it. XD And having exes is not always a "finished business" [specially when that comes with abandonment issues], but more like a WIP: something to deal with unresolved emotions from past partners that you want to move on, and sometimes a new partner may help you [or make everything worse]. I always read Gale that way.

Thanks for the ask!

[the960writers]

I posted 3.580 times in 2021

137 posts created (4%)

3443 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 25.1 posts.

I added 1.265 tags in 2021

#inspiration - 362 posts

#writing advice - 159 posts

#tea - 126 posts

#characters - 121 posts

#coffee - 115 posts

#flowers - 104 posts

#plotting - 88 posts

#ao3 - 70 posts

#history - 61 posts

#structure - 59 posts

Longest Tag: 85 characters

#i remember the days when google was all about don't be evil. those days are long gone

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

The Internet's best write-reward system! Write one hundred words, get an image of a kitten!

Check out this fun little site! You write in the text box and every 100 words, it’ll show you an image of a cute kitten. Isn’t that wonderful?

Let’s see how many kittens you can get.

93 notes • Posted 2021-03-24 21:24:59 GMT

#4

A recent post I reblogged went something like "Embrace good enough with your writing" and I see your tags on reblogs like #HAHA, #hello crippling perfectionism, #I wish I could

And, yes, I know, I see you. But let me give you my mantra that keeps my perfectionism and self-doubt at bay:

Am I curing cancer? Is somebody going to die if this isn't perfect? No? Well, then:

Fuck it, it's only a story.

108 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 08:54:44 GMT

#3

What is discovery writing (sometimes known as pantsing)? How can you write a novel with structure if you don't plot in advance? How can you build a writing career for the long-term? All this and more with Patricia McLinn.

OMG this interview was such a reassuring revelation!

Let me show you my favorite part, there’s a transcript by the way if you don’t want to listen to the interview:

Patricia: I'll tell you the truth. I had tried plotting three separate times and each time I lost a book. Well, two times. One time I finally regained the book. But it was partly I guess squirrel mind or my mind said, ‘Okay. You got a plot? You told that story. Let's go do something else.'

We know how that one turns out. And the only way I think you really learn your process is by doing, and I also think your process tweaks and grows with you. So you're constantly watching it a little bit and playing with things.

Joanna: I know what you mean as well. I think you lose the fun when you say lost a book there. I know what you mean. If I knew everything that happened, I'd be bored.

This is exactly why I can’t outline! I keep looking at methods and structures and whenever I try to do this, I get so bored and annoyed at the story that it dies right there. Both authors in this interview have some interesting things to say about their writing process, retroactive outlines and structure. I felt so much better with my messy process after hearing this interview.

122 notes • Posted 2021-06-08 17:38:55 GMT

#2

“The Heroine’s Journey” by Gail Carriger

I’ve finished Gail Carriger’s writing-craft-book “The Heroine’s Journey” today and what a revelation it has been. This book gave me so much insight in what kind of stories I write and why I’m currently so terribly stuck on that one WIP.

In short: The Hero’s Journey is about the solo hero, it’s a story of loneliness and revenge. The Heroine’s Journey is a story about connection, about building a network, a family succeeding by helping each other. (The terms Hero/Heroine have nothing to do with the gender of the protagonist by the way.)

Now in the fanfic I’m currently writing, the source story calls for a heroic moment of self sacrifice (which isn’t really one because the player character survives of course) and I have been struggling so much with the build-up to this moment. (Why oh why do I put so much writing energy in a retelling? Who asked for this?)

As I read Gail’s book, I finally realized why I had so much trouble. I was trying to cram a Hero story into a Heroine’s Journey and it just didn’t fit. My guy has been smacking people over the head for 28 chapters to get everyone together and overcome prejudice and religious bs to save the world, and here I am, trying to get him to abandon everything for some stupid hero moment. No wonder it didn’t work.

I’m thoroughly recommending this book, especially for writers who write stories with “found family”, “the gang gets together”, “me and my friends gonna kick your ass”,  and that sort of thing. You know what I mean? That shit we love? That’s the Heroine’s Journey.

138 notes • Posted 2021-03-02 21:15:45 GMT

#1

Hi there! I made the mistake of going to uni for a degree in creative writing, only to find out a little too late that turning my passion into a career was the wrong choice for me. My experiences in uni have ruined my love for writing. I struggle to write so much as a journal entry nowadays, let alone a full-fledged story! Do you think there's a chance I'll ever love writing again? I miss it, but failing uni shook me to my core.

Man, I was in Uni for engineering and by all things holy did I ever hate writing after that. Just because I had to write so much for it. Took me 20 years to start again.

Take a break. Really, it's fine. Writing isn't the only fun thing you can do with your time. Read books, take up knitting, mountain climbing, off road bicycling, bird watching, travel.

I don't mean this in a dismissive way, I really mean it. Don't force yourself to write, put writing aside and do something else. Life is all about learning new things, about making life experiences. See the world around you with new eyes, read and hear new stories.

One day the joy in creating words will come back, even if it takes 20 years. Give it time.

260 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 10:51:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I wish the fuck it post was number one

[shoeshineyboy]

tagged by the amazing @retrauxpunk thank you!!!

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

10! not loads, considering how long I’ve had the account, but a few!

2) what is your total ao3 word count?

19,592... clearly, I write very very short things (because those are the only things I have a chance of finishing)

3) how many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

two - Ace Attorney, and the Magnus Archives!

4) what are your top 5 fics by Kudos.

On Being ‘Fine’: a Klapollo fic, where Klavier finally gets the chance to grieve - the chance Capcom never gave him. I think people appreciated that. Someone drew art for it in a discord server I’ve since left!

new world: Jonmartin, written immediately after the TMA finale ended, about them having a second chance and also the happy ending they deserved

talk about it: another Jonmartin fic written for Jonmartin week, which I ended up not doing anything else for because work kicked my ass. just them discussing their nightmares and being sweet,

better than the alternative: I got made fun of because of the Will Wood title. it’s... another Jonmartin nightmare one? I’ve genuinely forgotten one of these. I tried to make this one hurt/comfort but ended up writing full-on angst, apparently

Quick Question: a look at how Gregory Edgeworth and Raymond Shields met! I just like writing Ace Attorney backstory tbh

5) do you respond to comments?

I try to, but my AO3 account is linked to my less important email address, so I don’t often get notified of them

6) what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

UH. all of them.

genuinely, I think we are electric, because it foreshadows one of the tragedies in Ace Attorney, and focuses on that whole bittersweetness until it hits you? also, it’s one of my favourite bits of writing, despite having the least love!

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

new world, for sure! it was designed to be a happy ending, after all! it was... interesting, to write something that was a little more optimistic!

8) do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've ever written?

I don’t, bar the Ace Attorney/Life on Mars crossover I attempted as a kid. that’s long gone, it was waaaay before AO3 even existed

9) have you ever received hate on a fic?

nope! nothing to hate! (/j)

10) Do you write smut? What kind?

I don’t, though I think I’m gonna have to learn, because I was hoping on a May Carlton/Grace Burgess hate-fucking fic but it doesn’t exist. I just think they’re fucking neat, both of them, so I guess I’ll have to do this myself

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so!

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, but I wouldn’t object to it!

13) have you ever co-written a fic before.

I’m a control freak, absolutely not. there is ONE friend I would write something with, but it wouldn’t be fanfic, it’d be an original thing

14) whats your favourite ship?

currently Tommy and Grace from season 1 of Peaky Blinders specifically. “I’ll break your heart” “already broken” invented love

15) whats a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Grey Day. I had such high hopes for this one, but I’ve run out of steam for Ace Attorney and I literally don’t have time to be writing something like this. add that to the fact that I’m trying to get something original published while I’m still young and hot, I don’t think there’s gonna be more of this for a long time

16) What are your writing strengths.

dialogue and final lines, for sure

17) what are your writing weaknesses?

not actually finishing anything, and description. I suck at writing description I do not like it

18) what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

this isn’t something I really thought about much, but... I think it can work, or, it did work, back when it was such a pain in the ass for the reader to translate anything, but I’m not so sure it really works, now? but this is the first time I’ve ever thought about this question in my life, what do I know?

19) what was the first fandom you wrote for.

man it was probably Ace Attorney, but back in like 2007? I’ve been here for a Long time

20) what's your favourite fic you've ever written? it’s a tie between we are electric and normal things, my least-loved TMA fic! you guys hate my favourite children. normal things is Jonmartin (surprise, surprise!) having a little quiet time in an old abandoned pub. I love the dialogue in it

there’s also a fic I wrote about an Ace Attorney OC, Isaiah, called Dead Ends, but that’s not been published anywhere and probably never will be,

idk who to tag but I enjoyed this!! got me thinking!

#za writes occasionally

[onlyhereforangst]

2020 IN WRITING

tagged by @indestinatus 💕

tagging whoever wants to go thru this journey with me & see their accomplishments in this terrible terrible year!

1. List of works published this year:

Oh god there’s a lot, like 70 total in just 2020. I’ll try to categorize them so this doesn’t get too long 😅but here’s a cut for aesthetic on your dash.

Sequels/Partner Fics: Risk It All (for @hellokaelyn), Finally Home (to Come Back), They Always Do & Could She?, Lucky Day & Completely Yours, Fiery Trance (Two Can Play series), Obsessed (Particular Taste), Soul (to Ignited)

Smut: My Turn (sequel to My Pleasure), Worth It, Maybe We Should, Make it a Double (also a fic request), Shall We (AU)

Fic Requests: Coffee Run, Hold Still, Typical, Deal, Needed It, I’m Home, For Science, Cry Me A River, From Your Dreams (AU), Crystal Clear, Tempt Me, Your Fault, Prove It, Silent Proclamation, A Hundred Suns (angst smut), Duly Noted

Stand Alones: No More, Never Let Her Go, Life is Fragile, Pandemics & Peach Drinks, To Need and Be Needed, Never Let Go, Coming Home, Priceless, Behind The Mask, Need a Hand?

Angst: My Daisy, Status Quo, Can I Stay, I Refuse, Deal

Series/Multi-chaptered: Back Off (Better Apart, Missed The Mark, Change Her Mind, But You Do, Layered Love), Electrified (Don’t Stop (Senorita)), Here By Faith, Forgive & Forget, Angstober ‘20 (Never Has & Never Will, Only In My Head, Long, Long Gone, Do Something, Take Care, Waiting to Burn, Survive the Hell, Find Her, Never Ended Well, At All Costs, One Thing Right, Stay Away, Echoed Back, Smart Man, Not Interested, Flake Again, Release, Slipping Away)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Here By Faith mainly because of the topic. Pregnancy & Infant loss has been such a taboo topic for so long and something I have personal experience with so writing this was very therapeutic. 

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Shall We and only because I truly wanted way more plot in this and it turned out to be essentially just straight smut with a tiny bit of plot. But it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Ok I had 70 fics to choose from not breaking down chapters so I’m sure I’m missing something, BUT I do love - omg typing this out I realized it’s from a fic in 2019 so I can’t use iiiiiit 😩 ok so here’s a couple excerpts. I loved typing out this stream of conscious partner fics (They Always Do & Could She?):

They Always Do:

Yet this time, this time she didn’t have the chance to rebuild. Like a Trojan horse, he waltzed right up to her and slowly dismantled her defense. Joke by joke, smirk by smirk—Nick took each brick down with care. The worst part? It was so subtle, so thoughtfully done, she didn’t even notice it was happening. Didn’t see her chest being pried open, beating heart on display for him to see, and take. Never realized her greatest defenses were missing until it was too late.

That love- precious, fragile, delicate love- had managed to grow again. In her desolate, cold heart, Nick managed to bring to life an emotion she had long given up on. An emotion she was too afraid to ever feel again. Because with it came agony.

They leave, and you’re abandoned- picking up the pieces of a shattered heart.

When you love, you lose. Always.

Could She?:

But-

Even if that was love, even if he loved Ellie with his whole heart, his entire being. Was that enough? Was Nick enough? Was he deserving?

A resounding no clanged around his skull like a church bell in a Southern town on Sunday morning. He wanted to silence it, stop the shrill metal sound that started any time he pictured forever. Any time he truly thought he might deserve to love, even after all he’d done. After all the unimaginable things he’d done, the horrors he’d seen, the pain he’d caused. That bell sounded, loud and clear.

How did he deserve love when he couldn’t bear to love himself?

[...]

Could she love him despite all his misgivings? Could she love him even when he didn’t love himself? Could she love him when there was a risk he’d be taken from her too soon?

Could she?

Please love me.

But please be sure.

There’s been a couple of other inner monologues that I have absolutely loved (I like to think it’s semi my speciality? But maybe that’s super arrogant of myself?) but that’s a different post for another time.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

I said it recently but I *love* when people pick out specific line(s) from my fic and choose to comment on those. More often than not it’s a line I was so proud of either prose-wise or foreshadowing-wise or whatever and I get literally giddy with excitement that someone not only noticed it but also loved it enough to comment on it 🥰but truly any kind of comment is dopamine-inducing 😉

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

As some people may have noticed (& maybe not because I did still semi-run the other main ellick blog despite it) I was somewhat absent for most of the summer/fall. I struggled for the first time in my life with mental health issues, borderline depression after being in a shit work environment, an essential worker with a company that claimed to “care” about us, a community that I once loved but showed their true colors in the midst of the pandemic & election, add in a rough pregnancy & it was a recipe for disaster. I didn’t want to even move from the couch most days let alone write. 

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I had a lot of fun writing short excerpts from different characters’ perspectives (Jimmy, Kasie, McGee & Gibbs) in my Angstober series & honestly wouldn’t mind doing that again!

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Honestly not sure, I think I’ve just generally grown as a writer - better descriptions & descriptors, better dialogue, better plots. But that could all be me seeing things 😂

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I’d love to look into writing more seriously. My husband is convinced I could write an episode script or a novel, so I may look into trying my hand at that (even though I feel I’d be god-awful at it 😅)

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Hmmmm I always appreciate the support I’ve gotten from the ellick fandom despite it being rough this year for us, wonderful people like @erinchristmaselvis, @thekeyboardninja, @hellokaelyn & @wanna-be-bold are always there to either hear me vent or cheer me on ☺️

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Haaaaah yes. Lots of it (but I bet you can’t tell because I only add mini snippets so have fun finding those easter eggs 😏)

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Always, always, always write for YOU. Not for anyone else, the kudos, hits, comments, none of it. Write for YOU. And I say this as a reminder to myself as well, it’s so hard to get bogged down in that dopamine-induced craze we search for in recognition but it’s so important to not externally validate yourself rather internally validate yourself on baby steps of growth & accomplishment. 

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

LOL how about all my WIPs? All of those stories I started forever ago that people call me out on not finishing months later when I swear they’ve forgotten about them 😬

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

Hmmmm lemme pick one from each category because I’m indecisive 😉

Sequel/Partner Fics: Lucky Day & Completely Yours (the aaaaangst)

Smut: a tie between Maybe We Should & Make it a Double

Fic Request: A Hundred Suns (because I love me some angst smut)

Stand Alones: Pandemics & Peach Drinks (hahahaha because this was in an Insider news article at the start of the pandemic hahaha so on brand #2020)

Angst: My Daisy (I looooooove this one, but also all of the angst category lol)

Series/Multi-chaptered: literally not one of these is finished and they’re all heavy angst so take your pick 😂

15. Year word count: 103,050 in 2020 which seems like so little 😅

Here’s to 2021 being the year I finish WIPs! she says knowing she’s lying

#about me #2020 in writing #fuuuuuuun #all the writing all the angst all the smut #what's new though #ellick #ncis

[howemancing]

WIP Wednesday

I’m going to pretend @dreadfutures tagged me because she said it was open. I started a Flufy Modern AU one shot version of my main OC Elspeth Cousland and Nathaniel Howe which has been a ton of fun to play in. Problem is, I need to work on the pacing, because my main pair just spend the entire time teasing each other.  One day I’ll come back and turn this into a fully fledged fic.   I’ve never posted stories directly to tumblr before so this is about to be an adventure in HTML -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soldering pedals was one of Elsa’s great joys in life. It was simple, straightforward, necessary, and immediately rewarding. Working on music could be richly satisfying in its own right, of course, but sometimes she just wanted a project with a clear goal and obvious outcome. And as a bonus, she could listen to whatever tracks she or her collaborators had made, with half a mind to future tweaks even as she worked. 

Shadow suddenly perked up at her feet, a sure sign that Delilah was home, before turning into a barking dancing ball of energy as she raced towards the doorway.  Her mutt was just barely well trained enough not to bump her owner while she was working, but it made her nervous all the same.

“Hey, ‘Lilah, because I know you love me, would you be willing to take the monster out while you’re still bundled up?” she called out in amusement. “I’m just in shorts and a sweater over here.” She didn’t hear a response, but her faithful mutt’s barking began to get more muted, even through her headphones.

She let herself get caught up in her work once more, finishing the last few wires that needed attaching. Elsa Cousland stood, stretching energy into stiff limbs, wandering over to their kitchen to check on the stewing cordero al vino. Soon enough, she heard the barking of Shadow in the hallway, apparently particularly excitable tonight as she returned. Her faithful mutt didn’t usually stay hyper this long when Delilah came home.

Keys jingled in the doorway, letting in the hyperactive pup, but Elsa’s attention was caught up blowing on the broth, eager to sample if it was coming along alright. “Geez, Lilah, do you have bacon in your pocket or something?”

“Heard a number of odd pick up lines before, but that one’s rather new,” a different, comforting voice graveled at her. Elsa started in surprise. It can’t be, she thought, even as she whirled. Nathaniel Howe was leaning in the doorway. Of course there was a faint smirk on his face, helmet in hand, and he would choose to look quite so dashing in his snow dusted leather coat. “But yes, I am happy to see you.”

“NATE!” she breathlessly enthused, dropping the spoon and launching herself at the man.

He grinned, catching her into a tight hug, wonderful chuckles rumbling through his chest. Despite the cold he brought in, warmth of a different kind seared through her.

“Hey, Elsa,” he breathed, his cologne such a wonderful, familiar scent. “Miss me?”

“You can’t possibly need to ask, you dork,” she murmured back, voice muffled by his chest. She pulled back to beam up at him, trying to ignore how easily he made her heart flip. Piercing grey eyes crinkled at her, peering past that wonderful aquiline nose. A faint blush from winter’s cold colored his cheeks, all while a smile danced across his lips. His sharp chin sporting that same soul patch she remembered so well. 

Nathaniel Howe, back after over a year of international travel. Smiling at her, daring to act even a fraction as happy to see her as she was him. 

She shoved down her pounding heart with firm internal rebuke. She didn’t have a crush on the man anymore, really. Clearly this was just the affection of having missed a man she cared dearly for - as a friend! Her energy would settle soon enough. 

Around their feet, her mutt danced, still bouncing ecstatically, and one particularly affectionate bump nearly knocked Elsa over if Nathaniel hadn’t tightened his hug and righted her. “Shadow, couch,” she ordered with exasperation, and obediently the dog quieted, following her owner’s command. Ponderously she climbed on, mournfully huffing as she curled up on the cushion. Large, sad puppy eyes demanded an explanation for such a betrayal, but her supposedly morose demeanor was rather cut by a wagging tail steadily thumping on the cushions. 

“It’s so wonderful to see you,” Elsa repeated warmly to Nate. “I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re here! Have you had dinner? Can you stay? I’m making cordero al vino. Ori’s recipe.” 

“It smells amazing, but I don’t want to trouble you,” Nathaniel demurred.

“Doctor Nathaniel Howe! Don’t be ridiculous, do you see the size of that pot? Besides, I will not be denied the chance to play host, or the pleasure of your company,” she growled, playfully thumping him in the chest.

“I am still not used to that title,” he mused, shaking his head, eyes crinkling with amusement. She giggled. “I’ll have to help you get used to it then, Dr. Howe. Indiana Jones wannabe-”

“Great, good. Years in the field and that’s never gotten old.”

“Professional artifact thief.”

“I am not a thief, I do nothing of the sort! I don’t even - I work in Greece, I’m mostly just surveying, and you - ah. You know this, of course you know this, and you’re winding me up.” Nathaniel sighed, rubbing his nose and trying not to smirk. “Why am I such an easy mark for you?”

Her brown eyes sparkled with humorous delight, grin bursting past all efforts to control it. “I mean, that goes both ways and you know it,” she pointed out, and he had to smirk, dipping his head in concession. “Please, settle in, make yourself at home. I should warn you, I’m likely to strongly insist you stay the night.”

“Oh?”

She gestured out the window. “Look at the weather. Did you really not know a major winter storm was coming? I don’t even want Delilah taking public in this, though I imagine she’s thinking the same. Her decision, in the end.”

He hesitated, frame stilling as he shed his coat. “Oh. Just you and me, then?”

Nerves flashed through her. She kept her tone light, offhand. “Is that a problem? Need me to invite other friends?”

“Of course not, but I feel bad for interrupting your, ah, special date night. And I don’t mean to force you to entertain me.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated, worries settled. “Nathaniel. It’s fine. I’d really prefer you didn’t try and take your bike in the storm that’s about to hit, but I’ll not pressure you. If you can put up with a slightly more humble abode than you’re used to, oh mighty Doctor Nathaniel-”

“-I feel as though you vastly overestimate the lifestyle of a non medical doctor.”

“-we’d be more than happy to have you stay. Especially for safety’s sake. If you can’t fit on the couch, you can stay in my bed.” He raised an eyebrow at her and she flushed, quickly continuing as if nothing were wrong. “Instead of me! I can sleep out here, I’ve spent more than one night on this couch.”

He smiled faintly, though his eyes looked distant. “I’m sure both you and Delilah have.”

“If it weighs on the scale, I’d like to pester you with a thousand questions as your rent for the night. Plus, you’ll have to give that shameless flirt - the one with a tail - all the attention she craves.”

Nathaniel grinned, piercing grey eyes sparkling and flipping her stomach in knots. “Such a price. Are you trying to threaten me with a good time? You know I’d pay it a dozen times over.” Her heart pounded within her, but she shoved that down. Nathaniel loved dogs. “But wouldn’t I just be in your way?”

“Nate, don’t joke like that. I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“A year and a half!” She huffed at him, and he quickly held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I just thought you’d rather - well. I appreciate the offer. Hm.” He checked out the window, noticing the snow flakes getting thicker. “Maybe I will take you up on it, at least for tonight. Mind if I go down and cover my bike, then?”

“Excellent! Good choice,” she praised, and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “And go for it. Dinner should be ready in another ten minute or so.”

“I look forward to it. And the promised thousand questions,” he added with a faint smirk, heading out.

Elsa watched him go, double checking on the lamb with sudden nerves, buzzing with excitement that wasn’t suspicious. It was normal to be this happy to see an old friend. Those butterflies were just clearly the natural excitement of being surprised. But the growing snow worried her, so she found her phone to make sure her roommate wasn’t enroute, and realized she’d missed several texts from Delilah

 Nathaniel’s back in down, you don’t mind if I invite him to dinner, right?

Hey

Hey

Check your damn phone buttface. He’s on his way.

Also I’m going to stay at Albert’s tonight. It’s much closer and work held me up. If you end up fucking my brother, please don’t tell me.

I lied, please tell me

No don’t.

Look tell me but I don’t want details. I just want to know it happened finally.

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes, and set about responding. 

Fucks sake, I’m sorry! I was working on soldering, alright? It’s fine, your brother’s here safely, happy to see him and entertain. He’s going to stay the night

No I’m not gonna sleep with him. Have to get him drunk first so he’ll even want to and that makes the whole thing too bleh for me

Can’t believe you abandoned me on date night, bitch

I’m kidding. Glad you’re staying with Albert but duh. Even without snow, when was the last time you spent the night here? Tell them I said hi

Soon enough, Nathaniel returned, and was promptly attacked by Shadow. He pretended at irritation, but a smirking grin kept fighting against his scowl even as she twined around his legs and forced him to sit with her on the couch.

Elsa smiled, watching him rubbing Shadow’s belly to her obvious delight, letting him have a moment of calm. Soon enough, though, he looked up, raising an eyebrow. “So quiet all of a sudden, should I be nervous? I believe you threatened me with a thousand questions.”

“Just giving you a moment to settle in!” she defended solicitously.

A faint half smirk traced his lips. “Consider me settled.”

It was like a floodgate releasing. “How’s Greece? Are you still doing GIS? Were you able to start any digs, discover any good sites, and find any exciting sherds? Meet any interesting new people?”

Nathaniel chuckled, and his eyes briefly went unfocused, clearly trying to keep track of each of her questions. “Rapid fire questions get rapid fire answers. Greece is good, surveying is excellent, I think we've identified a very interesting new site, specifically because yes, we found a number of interesting sherds. And no, nobody particularly interesting we haven’t already emailed about.” He shook his head, bemused. “This isn’t even your kind of field, and you’re not my family, forced to pretend. How do you remember this much? Even Delilah glazes over whenever I try to explain it.”

“Please, you underestimate how interesting you make things. Besides, ‘Lilah always remembers, she’s just trying to yank your soul patch. Which I note you still have, and so I’ve now lost a bet with her.”

Self consciously, Nathaniel stroked it. “I think it looks good.” 

“It does,” she soothed with a teasing grin. “I just didn’t think those were easy to maintain. Surprised you can keep up such careful grooming in the field.”

“Some things are worth the effort. Besides, you’re one to talk! You’re here in the middle of a city, and yet your hair’s getting so long,” he retorted. “When’s the last time you got a haircut?”

She mockingly gasped theatrically, tossing her long auburn hair. She hoped it would cascade beautifully but realistically knew she was just getting a floofy mess and shedding behind her. “Hey, I get it trimmed regularly. Besides, don’t you mock my hair, it’s my only good feature, Nate!” she baited him, raising a teasing eyebrow.

“That’s not even slightly true,” he protested.

 “How very dare you, good sir. I can’t believe you just called my hair ugly.”

 “I did nothing of the sort.”

 “I work so hard on it, too!”

 “Your hair is beautiful, and so is-”

Theatrically she pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing dramatically. “And now Nathaniel Howe, Expert P-H-D, just called it ugly. Alas! I’ve disappointed my dear Delilah’s brother. Now she’ll hate me too. Curse my miserable existence! I suppose there’s no help for it, I’ll just have to shave it all off.”

Nathaniel was outright laughing by the time her performative and overwrought display was done. “So dramatic. You are such a ridiculous ham,” he teased her. “You would never do such a thing. You know your hair is beautiful.”

She grinned at him, joy bursting out of her too much to be contained. “Can’t help the drama. I’m too excited, it’s hard to play at calm.” She performatively covered her mouth, then, and by the time she removed her hand, her smile was slightly better controlled, though her twinkling eyes betrayed her still. “Sorry, I promise I’ll try to settle down again. This is what you get for surprising me, Nate. My favorite - one of my favorite people is back in town, I’m a little eager!”

He settled slightly, smiling warmly at her, grey eyes dancing with light that made her heart flip within her. “Favorite? Please. Don’t exaggerate, you heartbreaker,” he teased, and as she geared up to protest, he continued, eyes softer, careful smile dancing on his features. “I missed you too, Elsa. It’s - it’s really good to see you again, energy and all. Especially that, actually. I loved your emails but they always lack a little something compared to seeing you face to face.”

She smiled warmly back, trying not to flush. “I know what you mean,” she agreed. “I’m so glad you could come back early. How long are you back this time?”

“Likely a couple years, actually. We’ve all but got the permit to dig in Greece so now it’s just applying for grants for awhile until we have enough to fund an actual dig. I’m probably going to be staying near the university, working on data analysis and grant and paper writing.”

Elsa tried not to let her tremor of excitement show. Cool as a cucumber. Casual. Not at all a silly, lovesick girl. Because it would be ridiculous. She couldn’t actually be still crushing on a man she should have the good sense to get over by now.

But.

A part of her couldn’t help but note this would be the first time in years they’d be local and single for an appreciable time frame. Most of Nathaniel’s graduate career had been intercut with international travel spanning for months on end, often rarely spending more than a season in the country. Last time he was in town for 6 consecutive months, she’d been dating Sebastian, and before that, he’d had some long distance relationship with someone or other. Alvina? Elvira? Damn, she probably shouldn’t be forgetting that.

Nerves would betray her, so she diverted to practical matters. “Oh? That’s wonderful to hear. Where will you be staying?”

“Mostly working out of the university, so I’ll probably settle in with father while I look for a place around here.”

Elsa made a face even as she poured herself a glass of wine.  “You really want to live with your father? I thought you didn’t get along with him either.” 

Nathaniel sighed, shrugging. “Well, I didn’t exactly have an alternative set up. It’s just to tide me over until I can get an apartment.”

“Stay here!” she insisted. “We can put you up for however long it takes to find a place.”

“That’s a kind offer, but I’m not sure Delilah would appreciate it.”

“‘Lilah would much rather you stay here than with your father, trust me,” Elsa pressed, taking a seat on the couch with him. “Double check with her if you prefer, but I’ll put money down I’m right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nathaniel demurred. “I’d rather not, ah. Be in either of your way, though. Wouldn’t it be awkward to have the older brother around, looming over you two?”

What a strange way to phrase things. But Nathaniel tended to be more careful in his word choice than others, and Elsa knew she’d probably thrown him off already with her energy and offer. “Not at all. I intend to be shameless regardless of your presence. We can have late night slumber parties!” she insisted cheerfully. 

Nathaniel’s face flushed slightly, then, though it was hard to tell why. Nathaniel was a flirt himself, and quite smooth about it, so the idea that he was flustered from her flirtations was hard to buy. But then, it was possible she was coming across stronger than she realized. Best to back off, then. “Well, it’s your choice, but offer’s on the table.”

“I’ll talk with Delilah.”

#Howesland #f!cousland x nathaniel howe #Nathaniel Howe #Modern AU #Fanfiction #wip

[justsomewhump]

Memories Revealed (12/?)

@killian-whump’s original piece is here, and you can read my additions from the beginning here.

Warnings: Rape, memory wipe, a bit of blood (for this chapter).

Tagging @sherlockianwhovian, @hookaroo, @hollyethecurious, @mathildia, @kingofmyheart14, @wyntereyez and @cocohook38. If you want to be tagged/untagged, hit me up!

Word count: 1.4k AO3

~

Set in 3x19

~

Killian felt that by anger and despair alone he could bust the trunk door open. It wouldn't do him any good, though. Zelena wanted him close to Emma for her own plans. Maybe he could use that chance to finally come clean to her.

Before he had time to think about Henry and Zelena's threat against him, the trunk was opening again, this time only Rumpelstiltskin standing above him.

"Missed me already, Crocodile?" Killian said.

"Don't talk," Gold all but hissed. "Don't say another word."

Killian scoffed. "Do yourself a favour then, and put that blasted rag back where it was, cause I'm not-"

He was cut short by Gold reaching down and grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, lifting him up slightly. "Shut up. Just shut up."

He was breathing hard on him, and for the first time since meeting him as the Dark One, Killian felt fear in his presence. Gold looked feral, as if he was barely holding back his rage. After a few seconds of intense staring, he dragged Killian out of the trunk, only to push him face down back inside when his feet found the ground.

Killian grunted, the quick and abrupt movements making him dizzy. "What are you doing?!"

Gold didn't reply; he only leaned forward and undid Killian's leather pants, lowering them down to his knees.

That was enough of an answer.

"No! Stop!" Killian said, squirming under Gold's weight over him.

Gold also seemed to be struggling, still breathing hard.

His face pressed against the bottom of the truck, Killian couldn't turn his head enough to see, though he knew very well what was coming.

There was no preparation though. He could have sworn that Gold had just stabbed him.

It took him a few seconds to be able to hear anything but his own wails, to feel anything but Gold's hard cock slamming inside him. The edge of the truck was pushing down on his stomach, and his restrained arms were being squeezed between his and Gold's bodies.

And Gold was moaning hard above him, but not in a way Killian would imagine as pleasant. If anything, Gold sounded to be in pain himself.

Gold raised up a little, alleviating the pressure on Killian's back, but allowing himself to go deeper, and Killian's breath was cut short by gasps of pain. Tears filled his eyes, and by now the side of his face was rubbing against the hard surface of the bottom.

In the absolute chaos, a memory of something Swan had told him during their road trip from New York City to Storybrooke entered his consciousness, about time feeling relative.

It couldn't have been hours, then, that he'd been like this. It only felt like it.

His face felt raw, and probably bleeding, but that was the least of his worries by the time Gold finally gasped and finished inside him.

Very few things could have given him the strength to turn around and look at Gold right then. He hadn't expected the sound of Gold sobbing being one of them.

Gasping himself, he lifted his head, ignoring the spots of blood where it had just been laying, and he turned as much as he could.

Gold was still inside him, still grabbing his hips, but his face was down and shaking with sobs.

Killian was speechless.

Gasping hard and without raising his head, Gold pulled away and simply collapsed next to one of the car's wheels. Killian bent his knees, using his own weight to drag himself out of the trunk, and rested his head against the back of the car as he looked at him, still speechless. Something wet and hot was running down his cheek, but even if his hand wasn't restrained he wouldn't care enough to check if it was tears or blood.

Killian was slightly shaking himself, his quick gasps forming condensation on the metal.

Gold was full-on crying; he only covered his exposed crotch with his hands, seemingly too upset to be able to dress himself. Tears were dropping down to his lap as his shoulders were still shaking.

For one single moment, Killian allowed himself a moment to feel sympathy, being surprised at how less it hurt than hating the man, even after he'd just... done that.

Feeling too tired already, he closed his eyes and waited. His backside was still exposed, and he was getting cold. Then Gold, he assumed, grabbed him and carelessly pushed him back into the trunk, putting Killian's pants back on.

Killian opened his eyes and looked at him. Gold still looked upset and shaken, his eyes red from crying, but his face quickly turned cold. His hand took on a purple glow as he put it over Killian's face, and he felt the sting from the scrapes there disappear. Then an object appeared in Gold's hand and started to glow with magic too.

A single train of magic flowed from Killian towards the object, then darkness.

~

Killian stood frozen, looking at the dreamcatcher in his hand, but this time knowing the shock was different than the one he usually had while watching these.

He examined the dreamcatcher's condition as his senses slowly came back. It looked brand new, the feathers clean, the wood shining, not a single thread jumping out from the thread woven around the wooden circle.

He swallowed hard. Gold probably hadn't watched this one much, if at all. No surprise there, considering it contained such a vulnerable moment for himself.

Then why the hell keep it?

Killian sighed deeply and threw it away, not caring where it landed. He rested his arms on his knees and dropped his head. Part of him hated that Gold still kept this souvenir, that he still wanted to remember this moment even though he did not wish to relive it. The other part was glad, because if Gold had kept that one, everything that Gold had done to him had been recorded. Killian wouldn't have to lose sleep wondering if there had been any dreamcatchers Gold had destroyed for whatever reason.

But still, he wondered what the point was. Even if he had watched it at least once, all he would see-

He froze again when he realized; the dreamcatchers were from Killian's point of view, and there was always an indescribable... aura of emotions while watching them. It was always like living them all over again, not like simply watching a film.

At the point Gold made this dreamcatcher, he had already made about three more. At least, he thought with a shiver and casting a glance at the box of unwatched dreamcatchers. If he'd known they worked that way... if when watching them he also got an impression of Killian's feelings and emotions...

A small sob escaped his mouth and he brought his arms closer to his chest. It was like a new way that Gold had violated his body and mind.

Was that another reason why he'd apparently enjoyed the dreamcatcher from Neverland?

He closed his eyes and shrunk into himself, feeling bile raise in his throat.

Still, he tried to put the pieces together to understand why Gold had kept this specific memory. Killian remembered a wide array of emotions he'd felt in each one; hate, disgust, self-loathing, pain, fear, shame, even that bloody arousal... but this was the one and only time he'd felt sympathy.

Where Gold had just raped him bloody and all Killian thought was how much pain he must have been in after losing his son. Where Killian couldn't even think of the word rape.

Killian sighed again; it would be an endless mystery, much like his inability to accuse the one responsible because he was lucky enough to have died already. But as his mind begged him for an explanation, all Killian could give was that Gold had simply wanted a reminder that, for once, his nemesis had felt sympathy for him, even - or especially - after the pain Gold had caused him.

He looked at the discarded dreamcatcher. Gold had died quickly, but had formed a bond of sorts with the other Killian by then, enough to sacrifice his own life to save him. Would he have done something with those dreamcatchers, had he had the time to prepare himself for his demise? Would he have done something with him? Would he apologize? If Killian feeling sympathy for him once was enough to hold onto a memory - or a souvenir, at least - that was vulnerable for Gold as well, what could his relationship with the other Killian have lead him to?

A tear fell from his eye. Was this the time to come clean to his other self?

~

Note: Most of y’all have already left kudos and comments on AO3, and I appreciate them still, but I’d be lying if I said new ones don’t make my day so if you feel inclined to, hop over to AO3 as well :)

I’m preparing another update which I will post very soon! (famous last words on abandoned wips)

#I write thangs #Memories Revealed #content warning #nonconsensual #Golden Hook #Killian Jones

[ahgastae]

phantasm (pt.1) – namjoon x reader

➥ word count: 1.6k | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: this is a wip i’ve been saving for a while lol. it’s *technically* a rewrite of an extremely old one-shot i had that didn’t quite turn out how i wanted it so here we are!! i’m thinking of making it a series that i kinda just update whenever i feel like/have time to work on it but idk. feedback is always appreciated, and thanks for reading! ♡

An aggravated sigh leaves your lips, giving up on yet another failed attempt to force the basement door open. The metal handle remains stuck no matter what you do or how hard you push, and at this point you’re starting to run out of ideas. 

Part of you wonders how you managed to get yourself into this situation; locked in the basement of some musty, old abandoned hospital. It’s not exactly everyday people willingly wander into places like this, and you would normally be one of the ones who stayed as far away as fucking possible.

So what changed? What made you take the risk? And how the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

“Why in the hell would I ever want to do that?” You quirk a brow at your best friend, popping another fry into your mouth as you do. “Actually, scratch that, why the hell would you ever agree to that?” 

The unamused look on Hoseok’s face makes you want to laugh, but you cover it up with another sip of your chocolate shake.

“Because,” Hoseok grumbles with a roll of his eyes, “those little shits can be very persuasive when they want to be. I didn’t want to be the only one in the group who didn’t go, you know?”

You nod your head understandingly, “So you didn’t want to be the one to pussy out.”

“Y/N!”

You burst into a fit of laughter, barely dodging the onion ring he throws your way. Hoseok rolls his eyes again, and the furrow in his brow makes you realize he’s a lot more serious about this than you first thought.

“Okay, okay.” By the time you manage to contain yourself, his scowl has softened slightly. “But if all the guys are going, why do you want me to go so badly?”

Hoseok scoffs, “Uh, are you kidding? That place is going to be creepy as all hell, and I need my best friend there to provide some serious emotional support. And to keep Jungkook from posting videos of me freaking out on Twitter again.”

You both cringe, clearly remembering the last time he got sucked into one of these “adventurous” outings. Jungkook got the silent treatment for a solid three weeks because that clip of Hoseok screaming at a pigeon went viral. The kid still apologizes to this day, but you have a sneaking suspicion he’s behind some of the (admittedly hilarious) edits that have cropped up.

It makes sense for that reason alone as to why Hoseok would want you to tag along, but you’re honestly just as much of a scaredy cat as he is. You’re a lot better at keeping it under wraps, though, always coming up with some excuse for why you can’t go exploring whatever creepy abandoned place his friends want to check out next. But Hoseok has never been the one to ask until now, and you’re more than a little conflicted about it.

“I don’t know, Hobi,” You sigh, glancing down at your half eaten burger. “This has always kinda been your guys’ thing, you know? I’m not really into any of that.”

“Honestly, most of us aren’t, either,” Hoseok shrugs. “The only ones who really like it are Tae, Yoongi, and Kook. The rest of us are kinda just along for the ride.”

“You mean the ride through every possibly haunted, definitely dangerous place in the area.”

“Yeah…”

A small silence falls in between you, and you briefly wonder how in the hell he ever thought this was meant to convince you. Sure, he took you out to lunch, said you could get as many milkshake refills as you desired, put on those heart wrenching puppy dog eyes that you always have to struggle to ignore. But is it really worth getting the shit scared out of you with him and his six friends? One of whom might “accidentally” post a video of you losing your mind over something stupid?

You aren’t ready to become a Twitter meme!

With that terrifying thought, your mind is finally made up. You’re just about to open your mouth and tell Hoseok you just absolutely cannot–

“Joonreallywantedtoknowifyouweregoingtocome!”

The words leave his mouth in a jumbled mess, but you make them out clear as day. You should’ve known that’s the game he was playing. There’s no way Jung Hoseok would come to you with a request like this without having some kind of backup plan. And, unfortunately, his role as your best friend means he knows all about your little crush on the de facto leader of his friend group. You just never thought he’d be so prepared to openly exploit it.

“So what do you say?” Hoseok bites his lip from across the table, and you have a sneaking suspicion he already knows what your answer is going to be.

“...Fine. I’ll go on your stupid ghost trip,” You grumble, a bright smile appearing on Hoseok’s face as he starts to thank you rapidly. “But I’ll break that kid’s phone if he so much as tries to record me!”

Your threat falls on deaf ears, Hoseok already whipping out his phone to presumably tell the other guys. Part of you wants to be mad that you let yourself get played so easily, but does it really count if you knew that’s what he was trying to do?

Eh, whatever. At least he’s happy. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually end up enjoying yourself after all.

So that was a fucking lie.

You haven’t even been out of the car for five minutes, and you’re already starting to regret leaving your apartment this afternoon. Hoseok said you guys were going to check out some old hospital on the outskirts of town when he picked you up, but you had no idea he meant this far out.

The woods surrounding the “hospital” aren’t particularly thick, but it’s just enough to where you know it’ll terrify the shit out of you when the sun starts to go down. You’re honestly not sure if you’d rather be stuck out here or in the creepy ass building in front of you when that happens. But, if all the guys currently standing around Taehyung’s truck are anything to go by, that decision might be made a lot sooner than you think.

 “Y/N!” One of them suddenly calls, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Stop being a weenie and get your ass over here!”

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself off from your spot leaning against Hoseok’s car and make your way over to the truck bed. The three younger ones are huddled around some sheets of paper in the bed while Jin and Hoseok fiddle with some flashlights and batteries near the open passenger seat. You head over to Hoseok first, curious about the two missing from your party. 

“Hey, where are Joon and Yoongi? I thought you said everyone was coming.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be here,” Hoseok laughs. “Joonie just had to finish up some stuff at work real quick. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

You nod, crossing your arms and scanning over the building in front of you. It definitely looks old. What used to be white paint has faded to a dark, muddy grey, and the windows are either smashed to bits or boarded over with moldy planks of wood. There’s stray graffiti scattered all over the place, the parking lot barely distinguishable from the overgrown weeds and shrubs surrounding the area.

Honestly, everything about it just screams “Danger! Stay the fuck away!” to you. How in the hell did the guys even find this place?

“Ah, fucking finally!”

You’re jolted out of your thoughts once again by one of the boys shouting from the truck bed. It must have been Jungkook, since he’s the one who jumps out and starts running towards the car pulling into the clearing.

Wait, a car? That could only mean-

The car slows to a stop behind Taehyung’s truck, and sure enough, you can just barely see the two boys you were asking about waving to you all inside. Well, one of them is waving. The other seems to be focused on parking without running over the energetic Kook jumping around the car.

You can kind of relate to the younger boy’s excitement, but the butterflies in your stomach are for an entirely different reason.

“What took you guys so long?” Jungkook whines, greeting the two newcomers as soon as they step out of the vehicle. “We were supposed to get into the building before it got dark!”

“I know, I know,” Namjoon apologizes. “We would’ve been here a lot sooner, but-”

“But someone kept insisting on grading ‘one more spelling quiz’ before we left.”

Yoongi’s grumpy pout is as evident as ever as he wholeheartedly throws his roommate under the bus. The three of them have joined the rest of the group now, the other two youngsters leaning over the side of the truck bed.

“You weren’t thinking of ditching us for some second graders, were you, Mr. Kim?” Taehyung teases, quirking an amused brow.

Jimin falls into giggles, “That sounds exactly like something he would do!”

“Hey, I promised the kids I would have them all handed back by Monday!”

Namjoon’s desperate attempts to defend himself are ignored, and you can’t help but smile at the small pout that crosses his face. It’s short lived, though, as Jungkook soon calls everyone’s attention back to him as he hops back up onto Taehyung’s truck.

“Alright, losers, now that we’re all finally here,” A mischievous grin grows on the maknae’s lips. “let’s get down to business.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon fluff #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #bts fluff #my writing #look at me still having no idea how to tag things lmao