#also also rereading my answer to you i apologize if i sounded....defensive

[icejello]

It's just a little mistake

A/N: Here's some Kavehtham angst (if you can consider it as that) that I thought off just before falling asleep. This is also in honor of Kaveh's character story bcs i love that man so much (tw: anxiety attack?)

A delicious aroma wafted through the house and eventually reached Al Haitham's nose as he tried to focus on the task he had to solve as the Acting Grand Sage, which really in his defense he would rather not do it but Lesser Lord Kusanali insisted on making him the Grand Sage and-

He snapped out of his train of thoughts when he felt someone poke his shoulder. He turned his head to see his roommate standing behind him with his arms crossed. They stared at each other in silence before Kaveh rolls his eyes and started to make some hand gestures. Turn off your noise cancelling. Seeing that, Al Haitham realized that he indeed has his noise cancelling on and Kaveh had probably spent the last few minutes calling him.

"What is it, Kaveh? I'm working." He turned it off and the sounds of his surroundings greeted his ears, along with the sound of Kaveh's annoyed foot tapping.

"I've been calling, no yelling your name for the past few minutes just so you know," Kaveh stated with a glare thrown at him.

"Oh really? I did not hear you," Al Haitham shrugged and turned back to the papers on his desk.

"An apology would be nice, Acting Grand Sage," Kaveh emphasized on his title and Al Haitham did not held back the small smile on his face as he replied, "I don't see why I should, Light of Kshahrewar." With his face turned around, Kaveh wouldn't be able to see the small smile on his face anyways and if Al Haitham had to be honest, bantering with Kaveh right now would be a thousand times better than dealing with the papers on his desk.

"You are so annoying," Al Haitham merely hums at his words as he rereads the words written on the paper. "Hey! Don't ignore me!" "Well hurry up and say what your purpose is for coming here then," was all the answer Kaveh received and the blonde contemplated smacking the back of his junior's head.

"I made some pie and was calling you to eat it together," Al Haitham stopped reading when he heard those words, "but you can forget about eating it now with that attitude of yours!" Al Haitham turned around in surprise to look at the blonde, a slight blush seems to decorate his face. "You made pie?" "Did you not hear a single word I said-" "Why?" Kaveh stopped talking when Al Haitham cut him off and stared at him before looking away and answering, "you just seemed stressed these days with your job so I thought I'd make you some pie since you like them and-"

"You made pie for me?" Al Haitham was even more surprised now. "I- yes- You know what forget it, I'm just going to go and eat it alone now," Kaveh turned around to leave and Al Haitham quickly followed after him. "Why are you following me?" "This is my house, I can go anywhere I want," "Is there a reason you're going to the dining room with me right now?" "... There's pie,"

Kaveh stops and turns to look at him. "Are you kidding me, Al Haitham? I just said you can't have it," "You also said you made it for me specifically," "That is not the point!" Al Haitham simply walks past him and pulls out a chair at the dining table. He could hear Kaveh muttering to himself from the door as he walks to the kitchen counter to take the pie, pretty sure he also heard some curse words there but it only made Al Haitham amused.

"Here, take it since you want to eat it so badly." Al Haitham stared at the slice of pie in front of him before staring at Kaveh who was standing beside him. "What? What is it? Why are you staring at me?" "There's only one slice," "Are you seriously asking for more you-" "No, where's yours?" Kaveh shut his mouth at that question.

"Where's yours, Kaveh?" Al Haitham repeated his question again. "I'll eat mine later so stop your complaining and just eat it," "You said you wanted to eat together," "I also said you weren't supposed to get any," Kaveh glared at him so he just sighs and turn his attention back to the slice of pie. He was about to eat it but turned his gaze back to Kaveh again, "aren't you going to sit?" "I- I'm fine with standing." Kaveh crossed his arms and threw yet another glare at Al Haitham. "Can you eat it already?" "Why are you being so nervous about this pie?" "I made it! Of course I want to know what you think of it!" "This is the usual pie you make for me though, isn't it?" "Just shut your mouth and eat it already!" Kaveh had enough and immediately took the spoon and shoved a spoonful into Al Haitham's mouth which did an amazing job at shutting him up.

"So? How is it?" Kaveh didn't understand it himself why he's feeling nervous about what Al Haitham's opinion is. Knowing his roommate, it definitely would only be criticism to mock him and rile him up even more but still he was nervous about it. Al Haitham was silent for a while even after Kaveh could see that he had swallowed it. "What is it? You're being so silent, was it that good that it made you speechless?" Kaveh would prefer to be optimistic because surely it couldn't be that bad that Al Haitham is rendered speechless.

"Kaveh did you..." Al Haitham trailed off as he stares at the pie before looking at the blonde. "Did I what? Al Haitham finish that sentence, did I what?" He became even more nervous as the feelings of anxiety starts to flood in. "... did you change your recipe? Or is it just me that tasted it differently?" Kaveh felt his heart seemed to stop dead at that time. Stopped before racing up and the sound of his thundering heartbeat seemed to fill his ears. He did not change the recipe.

He instantly ate a spoonful of the pie and the world seemed to stop dead as realization washed over him. He had messed up the recipe. Panic rushed over him as he starts running through the process while he was making the pie, was it the sugar? It seemed to taste a bit plain or did he not cook it enough? Where did he messed up? How did he messed up? What did he do wrong? He stood there frozen as his hand gripped the spoon harder.

"Kaveh...?" Kaveh muttered something under his breath which Al Haitham didn't quite catch. "Kaveh? What did you say?" "I... I messed up the recipe," the answer was barely a whisper which Al Haitham almost didn't hear. He studied the blonde's face and recognize the look on his face. Kaveh was having anxiety attack.

"Kaveh, its alright, the pie still tastes fine, I can still eat it." Al Haitham made a move to reach for the plate but Kaveh quickly pulled it away. "Kaveh...?" "No, don't- don't eat it anymore, don't even- don't touch it." His eyes seemed to shake in fear and Al Haitham notes the way his hands are shaking while holding onto the plate and spoon. "Kaveh I'm telling you its alright, the pie can still be eaten-" Kaveh shook his head as he slowly backs away.

"It- it can't Al Haitham, I messed the recipe up, I should- I should throw this away. Yeah, I'll throw it away and maybe..." He stopped talking as he stares at the slice of pie. "No, what am I kidding? I can't make a new one, I'll mess it up again, I'm- I'm sorry Al Haitham, I wanted to make this for you but I can't even do something like this nicely." Kaveh turned around and went to take the rest of the pie.

"Kaveh, listen to me, the pie is alright, you don't need to throw it away." Al Haitham felt a slight panic inside him. He wasn't the best person to go to when it comes to comforting someone. He was awkward with it especially with his difficulty to really express feelings. Right now, he needs to comfort Kaveh and bring him out of his head. Al Haitham watches as Kaveh seemed to ignore him but he knows it wasn't intentional, Kaveh must be having a rush of thoughts in his head, it would be filled with panic that Haitham needs to pull him out of. "Kaveh snap out of it and listen to me. Look at me Kaveh please, listen to me."

Al Haitham grabbed Kaveh's face to force him look at him. His cheeks were damp and Al Haitham could see the tears in his eyes. Kaveh was crying. "Why are you crying?" "I messed up the recipe, you must be annoyed I mean these are your ingredients after all and I just wasted them like that, I'm sorry I'll buy it again to replace it. You probably wouldn't want to accept that I mean-" Kaveh continued rambling as more tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Light of Kshahrewar?" There was a new softness in Al Haitham's voice as his gaze seemed to soften and look at Kaveh with a rare gentleness and care. "I don't- I don't know, aren't you mad? I just wasted the ingredients you brought and we can't even eat it and.... I don't know, Al Haitham, I don't know." The softness seemed to made him feel worse, his voice cracked as he questions why Al Haitham is looking at him so softly instead of angry, pissed or annoyed.

"No, Kaveh, I'm not angry at you and you did nothing wrong." Al Haitham wiped Kaveh's tears away with his thumb and gave his cheeks a soft caress. "But I messed up the recipe, I ruined the pie I-" "You did nothing wrong, my love." Al Haitham rarely referred to Kaveh as that. Actually, he rarely ever calls him anything other than his name or Light of Kshahrewar. He was not the type to use nicknames but there were rare moments where he would. Kaveh's lips trembled as Al Haitham continues to show that rare softness and tenderness of his.

"Are you... Are you really not angry? At all?" Instead of answering, Al Haitham kissed his cheeks where he had just wiped his tears off. The left side and then the right side. Surprisingly, he pressed another kiss at his forehead, this time longer than the other two were before pulling back to look into Kaveh's eyes. "I'm not angry, now stop crying, you're ruining your make-up."

It was not a surprise to Kaveh that Al Haitham does not try to comfort him more. He understood well enough that he struggles to even express his true feelings but seeing him try nonetheless was more than enough. "Shut up, I know my face looks alright or you would have a smudge on your lips." "What do you know? I already wiped your tears before kissing you," realization crashed over Kaveh as he grabbed Al Haitham's hands. "Is my make-up really ruined? Oh my archons, I must look hideous right now."

A chuckle slipped past Al Haitham's lips as he smiles at Kaveh. "I'm joking, you look fine." Kaveh squints his eyes at him, "no I don't believe you." He tried to pull away but Al Haitham wrapped his arms around Kaveh's waist instead, trapping him in an embrace. Kaveh froze before slowly wrapping his arms around Al Haitham's neck and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, catching a whiff of Al Haitham scent.

"Thank you, love," it was a whisper quiet enough to make sure only Kaveh would hear it even though it was only them in the house. It was as if those words were for him and him alone, not for the world or the archons to hear. He simply hugged Al Haitham tighter as an answer. "Care to join me and eat some pie?" Al Haitham offered him a smile as he pulled away. "Alright but I'm going to check my check my face first, no doubt I look like a mess." With one last kiss, Al Haitham let Kaveh go as he walks away towards the bathroom. Al Haitham busied himself by cutting a slice for Kaveh and that's when a yell that he was sure the whole of Sumeru could hear. "Al Haitham, you liar! I hate you!" The Acting Grand Sage just smirks as he eats a spoonful of pie.

#kavehtham #fanfic #if anyone is curious what prompted this #it's myself #i was cooking some curry but fucked up #nothing big like accidentally setting the kitchen on fire or anything #but i did messed up the recipe #which on my defense it was the first time i cooked it myself without supervision or guidance #and i only ever cooked it once before #but the mistake I did was perfectly fixable and could still be fixed #and note that i was home alone at that time #and i just had a mental breakdown and anxiety attack in the kitchen #i fixed it and it was better but i was still not able to accept it that i threw all of it out #and ended up not eating anything for lunch today #took me a while to calm down #and the only reason i threw it out was bcs i just felt like it would make my parents absolutely idk disappointed? #ik they wouldn't be mad and would instead tell me what to improve but dear god i could not accept my own flaws and fear it #well that's that #ocelwrites #mine

[itsactuallywhitewolf]

Hi, I hope you are having a good day. I was wondering if you could write something about Stephen Strange and how he helps the reader overcome stress, panic and helps her have a good self care day? Thanks ♡

Study Break

Pairing: Stephen Strange x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1161

Warnings: Anxiety, self-consciousness, procrastination

A/N: Heyy! First off, I apologize for taking so long to answer and posting the story, I just had a lot going on so I didn't really get to write... But I loved the concept and I really hope you like what i wrote!

there's so much fluff and caring Stephen! also please note that english isn't my first language so there might be some mistakes! hope you like it 🥰

The candles were almost burnt down when Stephen entered the study. The smell of work out leather, stained book pages and tea bags filled the room, papers and notes scattered on the floor, piles of lexicon and  spell books laying on the old wooden desk in the corner. You have your nose stuck in one of those books, rereading the spell in front of you over and over again. It just won't stick with you.

You let out a desperate sigh, closing the pages and burying your head in your palms, not noticing the sorcerer standing in the doorway until he stepped forward and reassuringly put his hand on your shoulder.

"How long have you been studying?"

Slowly you look back up, watching the flame of the candle in front of you go out.

"I don't know, way too long"

He watched you with concern while you wearily rubbed your eyes. He got the stool from the back of the room and sat down next to you, watching your tired features. He immediately noticed the dark circles underneath your eyes, the redness in your eyes and the frown in your brows. "When was the last time you had some sleep?" You needed a little time before you could answer, " Three days ago, i think"

"Well, that doesn't really sound healthy, my dear", Stephen replied, surprised to see you functioning at all, "Don't you think you should get some rest?"

"No, I can sleep when I'm dead."

"Now that definitely doesn't sound healthy", he chuckled, now glancing at the book on the desk. "What exactly even is it that you're studying?" You took the notes next to you and gave them to him, "All sorts of stuff, Astral projection, protection spells, self-defense spells, portals, sorcery history..." - "Wait, and this is what you're stressing about?", he asked, looking at the papers and putting them aside. "You don't understand, Stephen! I'm the only one in my group being so far behind and all the others already know so much and I just feel so dumb when training and Wong isn't exactly helpful and I really don't wanna waste your time so I just thought that-"

"Hey, look at me", Stephen interrupted you, taking your hands and gently rubbing his thumb over them, "First off, you would never waste my time, no matter what it is, you understand?" He looked at you with his soft eyes, waiting for any form of confirmation so you just nodded and glanced down to your hands that he so gently held. "And second of all, you really shouldn't put this much pressure on yourself. You should take care of yourself, not put your body through a series of all nighters just because you think you're far behind with stuff." - "But I am!", you whined, pulling your hands from him and hopelessly laying your head on the wooden table in front of you.

"No you're not, because Wong always tells me otherwise. Besides, you just started your training, my dear. It's normal to not know everything from the beginning.", he reassured you, getting up and standing behind you to slowly rub circles into your weary shoulders. "Yeah, says the one who did the same as me now when he first started here", you replied, mumbling into the desk.

Stephen chuckled, continuing to massage your shoulders, "Still doesn't mean you have to do the same mistakes." -

"I wouldn't really call it a mistake, considering you're the Sorcerer Supreme now."

He just nodded in silent agreement, a smile on his face. You sat up again, turning to the side so you could see him better. "...I just feel so dumb, you know? No matter how much I read and research it just won't stick with me and it stresses me so much and then I panic and... i don't know what to do...", you sigh, looking down to your feet.

"What about a little break, huh? We could go out for a walk if you want, or watch a movie?", he suggested, pulling you up to your feet so you stood in front of him. He searched for your eyes, putting the stray strand of hair in your face gently behind your ear. Him caring so much made you smile. "I'd really love that. Thank you, Stephen", you replied, hugging him and nuzzling your face into his chest.

He put his arms around you, holding you tightly and leaning his chin on your head. "No need to thank me, my dear."

You stood like that for a couple of minutes until you quietly spoke up "Stephen?"

"Hm?" - "Can we also cuddle?" He chuckled at that, his laugh filling the small room. "Yes, whatever you want" - "So we could also eat Popcorn in bed?"

"Now I wouldn't go that far, Y/N"

"Hm, worth a try..."

He then opened a portal to your shared bedroom, stepping through with you. You went to the bathroom and took a quick shower, changing into one of Stephen's hoodies and a pair of pyjama shorts while he put on your favorite rom-com that he pretended to hate but secretly loved. Stepping out of the bathroom, you tiptoed over to the bed, getting underneath the heavy blankets and laying down next to your boyfriend, who also changed into something more comfortable. He immediately put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

"Getting back to you feeling 'dumb' or not as good as the others... You know that's not true right?", he started, cupping your face so you'd look at him. "It just hurts me to watch you suffer from all the pressure you put yourself under... It's just not good for you"

You watch him admiringly. Who would've thought that Doctor Stephen Strange could care so deeply about someone? You definitely didn't when you first met him. The ever so selfish and ignorant Doctor Strange, too stubborn for his own good. Then somehow you got closer, and now you moved with him into the Sanctum, learning the Mystic Arts yourself.

"You're right, and I'm aware of it too, but I just... can't help myself, you know?", you sighed, pulling the blanket towards you. "I guess I just need you to distract me from all the stress once in a while", you grin, nuzzling his nose with yours, making him smile softly.

"You're not being serious about this, Y/N"

"I am! It's just that right now I'd rather cuddle with my man than talk about my bad habit of overworking myself", you reply, but Stephen doesn't seem satisfied.

"Alright, I promise you I'm gonna take care of myself, okay? I am not gonna stress or panic about that stuff and just go easy with myself", you told him reassuringly, "does that sound good to you?"

"Hmm... better than nothing...", he mumbled.

"Stephen?" - "Yes, my dear?"

"Thank you", you whispered, leaning forward to give him a kiss. "Everything for you", he replied, stealing another kiss from you.

#stephen strange imagine #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange #dr strange #dr strange imagine #dr strange x reader #dr strange fanfiction #stephen strange fluff #dr strange fluff #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch x reader #marvel #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange

[dqrkerstqrs]

truth or drink!

this is based off the cut’s truth or drink series!!

oikawa : hi!

you : hi, uh- my name’s y/n.

oikawa : i’m oikawa, and we… met on tinder.

you send a death glare in his direction and oikawa smiles sheepishly. as this happens, the text that hovers above the two of you says, ‘these “friends” will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.’

oikawa : i'm jokiiing- stop looking at me like that-

you : we met in high school.

[are you… friends with benefits?]

you : yeah.

[what does that mean?]

oikawa : we’re best friends. but we also fu-

you step on his toes immediately, making him wince and pause in the middle of his sentence.

oikawa : ow, ow, fine- we sleep with each other.

[how often do you sleep with each other?]

you : next question-

oikawa : every day. they just can’t get enough of me-

he sends a wink to the camera while you groan.

you : tooru, stop exaggerating this or i swear-

oikawa : you wanna go first?

you shake your head, motioning for oikawa to take a card.

you : no, you go.

oikawa hums, his knees bumping into yours when he shifts in his seat and reads out the card.

oikawa : hm… what should we call our relationship?

you : um… we’re friends, i guess?

oikawa : best friends.

you :

oikawa : that fu- sleep with each other.

you narrow your eyes.

you : did you really have to add the best friends part?

his brown, fluffy hair bounces as he nods.

you : … i don’t know what you’re talking about, iwaizumi’s my best friend.

you stick your tongue out at him. oikawa shakes his head in denial.

oikawa : they’re lying. we’re best friends.

you roll your eyes playfully. widening his grin, oikawa knows he has won when he sees you try to fight off a small smile.

you : next question.

oikawa : your turn.

you : oh… this one-

oikawa chuckles at the groan you let out.

you : let’s just drink.

oikawa : nooo, what’s the question anyways?

you avert your focus on oikawa, who was blinking way too innocently for your liking. you furrow your eyebrows at him. he smiles with an eyebrow raised.

you : on the count of three, name who likes who more in this relationship?

he snorts, attempting to pass it off as a cough. you grumble under your breath.

oikawa : isn’t it obvious?

you : i hate you.

oikawa : it’s clearly y-

you : no, wait- ugh, fine. let’s just say it on the count of three.

oikawa : fine. one.

you : two.

oikawa : three.

you and oikawa : you.

oikawa has a gleaming white smile carved onto his face while you fold your arms and huff in annoyance.

you : see-

oikawa : well… you did confess to me that one time-

you : i was drunk!

oikawa : well, you know what they say, drunk minds speak sober minds.

you :

oikawa : you even told me how hot you think i am~

oikawa leans forward and rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

you: well- uh- well, i wasn’t the one that got jealous of iwaizumi!

you flick his forehead.

oikawa : ow-

he flinches and moves away to lean against the back of his chair.

oikawa : i mean, to be fair i didn’t know you and iwa are that close to each other!

you recall the amount of times iwaizumi has comforted you whenever you see oikawa leave parties with someone else that’s not you. you purse your lips as the memories come rushing in, unaware of how oikawa’s grumbling under his breath.

you : we are close to each other! you’re just never there when we talk.

oikawa’s jaw slackens. you laugh softly, quickly pushing the memories to the back of your mind before it brings your mood down.

oikawa : you guys hang out without me?

you : yes? why, are you jealous?

you smirk at him before turning to the camera. you miss the flustered expression on his face that was gone within a second.

you : he’s so jealous.

oikawa : am not!

oikawa : so…

y/n : so…?

oikawa : this one’s interesting.

you tilt your head, wordlessly asking him to read out the question.

oikawa : does it hurt your feelings when i sleep with other people that aren’t you?

your eyes widen a fraction.

you : … does it hurt your feelings?

oikawa : no, it’s my question. you answer.

you : um…

you avoid his eyes, opting to look down at your shoes that are sandwiched in between his.

you : it might, i guess.

oikawa : … you guess?

you : i mean, i’d definitely hate it if you were hooking up with your ex. you know how much i hated them.

both of you wince at the memory of his toxic ex, and oikawa scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

you : you should’ve-

oikawa : i know. i should’ve listened to you.

you : mhm.

oikawa : well, i’m not hooking up with anyone else.

you : you’re… not?

oikawa : it’s, uh… it’s been a while.

you look back up just in time to see him shrug.

[ask him when was the last time he slept with someone other than you.]

you : oh, uh, when was the last time you slept with someone other than me?

oikawa : uh…

you notice how oikawa’s avoiding your eyes.

you : was it… recent?

oikawa : it was last summer, i think. so, no? not recent?

[were they cuter than y/n?]

you briefly glance at the director, nervous of what oikawa’s about to say. to your relief, he shakes his head.

you : … no?

oikawa : no.

you : this one…

you blink at the words before you, rereading it mentally over and over again.

oikawa : what is it?

oikawa leans forward onto his elbows, adjusting the glasses that rest on the tip of his nose. you swat away the hand that tried to reach for your card.

you : where… is the weirdest place we had sex?

oikawa : oh, definitely th-

you : NO, tooru-

oikawa : what-

you : we’re drinking.

oikawa sighs in faux disappointment. you stare daggers at him, and he pretends he doesn’t see. you step on his shoes again for his attention, and the yelp he lets out elicits laughter from the crew. the shot cuts to both of oikawa pouring you a shot of liquor and both of you downing the shot.

oikawa : … it was fun, though.

you : shut. up.

oikawa : would you have a threeway with me?

pausing from rearranging the cards that were haphazardly strewn across the table, you hum in thought.

you : sure.

not expecting the straightforward answer, oikawa almost chokes on his own spit.

you : what?

oikawa : you’re joking… right?

you : … yeah? duh? it’s not like i’ll reveal the answer in front of these cameras.

oikawa : o-oh. yeah. okay.

you : were you… expecting me to say yes…?

oikawa : no. definitely not.

you blink at him when he answers a bit too fast. he blinks back at you. a few moments pass, and oikawa clears his throat to get rid of the unnamed tension in the air.

oikawa : so… we’re drinking to this one?

you : um… yeah.

both of you down the shot in awkward silence. you don’t think about how it’s probably not the alcohol that’s painting his face red.

you take one of the last two cards in front of you.

you : oh! i’ve actually been wanting to ask him this myself.

oikawa : hm?

you : so, tooru… when are you going to introduce me to your parents?

oikawa scratches his chin in contemplation.

you : they’d love me, y’know?

you grin playfully. oikawa smiles, and the sincerity behind it throws you off.

oikawa : they probably would. even my sister loves you.

you : oh, i know. once she told me that she’d replace you for me with no hesitation.

oikawa : that was so uncalled for-

you laugh. oikawa smiles. you think it’s from the memory, but it’s really from the sound of your laughter.

oikawa : whatever, takeru’s on my side.

you glance at the cameras with a knowing look on your face. oikawa silently watches you as you mouth ‘no, he’s not’ to the camera, the corners of his lips tugging upwards at the sight.

you : so?

oikawa : … huh?

you : when are you introducing me to your parents?

oikawa : oh.

you :

oikawa : when you date me.

taken by surprise, your mouth forms an ‘o’. oikawa laughs.

you : that’s- that’s foul! i wasn’t expecting that- stop laughing!

[what makes your relationship that much different from someone who says they’re in a committed relationship?]

you : well… hm…

oikawa : it’s not that much different, to be honest.

you : actually, yeah.

oikawa : the difference is just that one of us wouldn’t commit.

oikawa stares at you pointedly. you purse your lips.

[why?]

you : i… i don’t know… well, i was young. and insecure. and he had fans that i don’t wanna mess with. has, actually. so i just thought it’d be bad if we got into a relationship.

oikawa : … thought?

you :

oikawa : you thought it’d be bad? so… you don’t think so anymore?

you : … keep that up and it’s gonna change to think.

oikawa raises his hands up in defense. this time, oikawa lets you see the sincere (you’re not sure but, lovesick, perhaps) smile he has been sporting every time you’re turned away from him.

you : last one?

your head whips to the crew standing behind the cameras. they nod in response.

oikawa : my turn, right?

you : mhm.

oikawa takes the last card. his eyes scan the words before him, before looking up and boring a hole into your skill with his gaze.

oikawa : do you love me?

you :

oikawa :

you : yeah.

oikawa :

you : yeah, of course.

oikawa : like, in a… i-want-to-be-your-significant-other kind of way or…

you : do you… want me to be…?

oikawa : did i not make that clear enough?

silence hangs heavy on your shoulders, and you look away from his intense stare. you blame the two shots of alcohol for the sudden surge of boldness in oikawa’s behavior.

you : at least… at least take me out on a proper date first–

oikawa : okay, then it’s settled. i’m picking you up this friday. okay?

you finally muster up the courage to look back at him.

you : … okay.

it’s silent for a few seconds, but it’s not like last time. it’s comfortable. warm. you return oikawa’s smile.

oikawa : did we just have our ‘the fault in our stars’ moment?

you : that’s it, you ruined it.

loud laughter from the crew is heard as the scene fades to black. the director shouts ‘it’s a wrap!’ as oikawa apologizes a multitude of times, telling you he’ll treat you for a week in exchange for your forgiveness. you forgive him. oikawa shouts ‘yes!’, clamping a hand over his mouth when he realizes he’s being too loud, and you laugh at his antics.

special cut!!!

oikawa : read the last booty call i sent you.

you : oh my god.

you pick up your phone that has been sitting on your lap, sighing.

you : see, here’s the thing about oikawa tooru.

oikawa chuckles.

you : he doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to these things. he just… straight up tells you what he wants.

you scroll through the endless sea of chat bubbles, looking for the texts that he sent a few days ago. and when you finally found the text you were looking for, you look back to oikawa’s expectant eyes.

you : are you sure you want me to read this?

oikawa nods, pressing his lips together to stifle the laughter bubbling up his throat. you look at the director.

you : i think you might have to bleep this out…

[that’s okay. let’s hear it.]

you take a deep breath.

you : keep in mind i was at work when he sent this. okay-

you clear your throat.

you : tuesday, 1 pm. can i come over tonight? i want you to-

i hope you liked it!! i’ve been inspired by so many amazing writers on here like @kybabi and @bellesowl​ so don’t forget to check their blogs out too!

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #oikawa angsr #oikawa angst

[chaeryybomb]

“8 hours and counting...” || l.dh

anon: “Can you do a best friends to lovers with nct haechan?”

a/n: here you go! thank you so much for requesting and I might’ve went a bit overboard with this,,,

pairing: lee haechan/lee donghyuck x gender neautral reader

genre: best friend to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, slight angst, haechan lowkey being a jerk, slow burnish?

featuring: mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin and choi jongho

word count: 2.3k (oops)

summary: haechan misunderstood the situation thinking you had found a boyfriend and allows jealousy to take over and it is up to you, to slap— well, more like kiss him back into reality.

Haechan stared at the red iPhone in front of him. Well, more like he was glaring at the device. The reason was because he sent a text to his dear best friend, L/N Y/N, asking to meet up at the cafe because he was bored and he wanted to spend time with you.

He sent that text a few hours ago. 8 hours ago to be more precise, his brain taunted.

Sighing, he stood and paced around the room as endless scenarios ran through his head. Usually you would’ve answered his text within seconds after he sent it, the latest you ever took was 20 minutes! And that was because you were in a replacement class! Haechan knew your schedule like the back of his hand, of course he knew when you were free to text. And this was one of the moments, so where the hell was you?

Maybe you had a replacement class you forgot to mention. Haechan scratched their side of his head as he tried to remember if you had any classes cancelled in the past week. You didn’t. What if you were kidnapped?! His eyes widened at the thought. Oh no, should he make a police report? But you have to be missing for 24 hours before you’re “officially” a missing person and it’s only been 8 hours and 47 minutes... (Technically 8 hours felt like 8 years in Haechan’s book.)

Before he could think of even worse situations, Haechan’s phone rang out loud and the boy quickly dived to answer it. He groaned in disappointment once he read the contact name. It wasn’t you, just stupid Mark Lee. He swiped the accept button and raised the phone to his ear. “What?!” He asked annoyed.

“Woah, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today,” Mark said on the other line.

“Hahaha, very funny Minhyung. What do you want?” Haechan replied with a sarcastic laugh.

“Jesus, I was going to ask if you want to go to the arcade today. Renjun said he’s going to beat your high score at Super Mario,” Mark explained.

At mention Renjun, Haechan could hear his voice yelling, “Be there or be square!” in the background.

Haechan swiped out of the call app and into his texts, his message was still on delivered. At least it was better than being left on read, right? But there was also a 80% chance of you being missing.

“Hello? Dude, you there?” Mark’s voice drew Haechan out his thoughts. Haechan shook his head, maybe the arcade would be a good distraction.

“Yeah, I’m in.”

The arcade was not a good distraction.

“Bro, are you okay?” Mark asked as he slung his arm over the younger one. “Renjun beat you in Super Mario. I repeat, you—“ he jabbed his finger at Haechan’s shoulder “—lost to Renjun!”

Renjun, who was sitting across from Mark, kicked his shin under the table. The older hissed in pain as he grabbed his leg. Mark glared at the boy in front of him, who’s now indulging himself in a conversation with Jeno, pretending like he didn’t stab Mark on the shin with the back of his heel.

Haechan mindlessly stirred his soda with the plastic straw, the whole time his mind was occupied with you, you and you. He made a mental note to blame you the next time he sees you. It’s stupid Y/N’s fault that he lost to Renjun in Super Mario! Ugh, now he has to play the damn game again just to get back his rightful place at the top of the leaderboard.

He looked at his phone the nth time since he entered the arcade. His lockscreen was empty from any notifications. No new messages or any missed calls. His wallpaper was a picture of him and you, who was on his back. It was a candid picture (courtesy of Jaemin) and the two of you were caught in the middle of laughing. He loves the picture, but right now it’s becoming a reminder that you have yet to reply to his message. It’s officially been 12 hours since his text. 12 hours and still nothing.

Suddenly, his ears perked up at the sound of someone’s laughter. Not just anyone, he knew whose laugh was that. It was yours. There’s no doubt that it was your laugh, he’s heard it his entire life. (And it’s also his favorite sound but he’d rather die than admit that.) Haechan sat up straighter and craned his neck, his eyes scanning the area for a certain person.

And there you were, standing in all your glory. His eyes lit up once he found you, but they immediately darkened in the next second. You weren't alone, beside you was another boy. A boy that he did not recognize. He saw you open your mouth to say something which resulted in the boy to ruffle your hair and sling his arm around your neck. The two walk past their table from the mini cafeteria and into the arcade. You didn’t even notice him.

Haechan’s fist tightened around the head of the chair as he watched you and the boy laugh together. Who the fuck was he and why the fuck was he with you? Mark seemed to notice where Haechan was staring and spoke up.

“Oh hey, isn’t that Y/N? HEY Y—MMPH!” Haechan swiftly moved to slap his hand over Mark’s mouth. He waited till you and the mystery boy disappeared into the aisle of arcade machines and finally slumped back into his seat.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Mark demanded and glared at the boy beside him.

Haechan rolled his eyes at the older and slumped back deeper into his seat, a pout on his lips. Mark paid no mind to him and just ruled it as one of his moments. While the other boys were laughing at Jeno choking on a french fry, a thousand thoughts were running through Haechan’s mind. The main one was who was the guy with you?

You couldn’t possibly have a boyfriend, right? No, you wouldn’t. You would’ve told him. That’s what best friends do, right? But that’s what he’s always going to be to you.

The best friend. He hates it.

Something’s wrong with Haechan. You’re sure of it. You stared at your phone in your hand as you reread his reply over and over again.

Haechan [8:33am]: hey you wanna go to the cafe for breakfast??

Haechan [8:35am]: hello???

Haechan [8:35am]: y/nnnnn

Haechan [8:36am]: don’t ignore meee :((

You [9:42pm]: omg im so so sorry

You [9:42pm]: im sorry hyuck i was at a family reunion :(((

You [9:43pm]: we can go to the cafe tomorrow if you’re still up for it!

Haechan [9:45pm]: i have plans tomorrow. maybe next time.

You [9:46pm]: alright..

First of all, Haechan would’ve popped off at you for replying to his texts so late and for ignoring him the whole day unintentionally. And secondly, he would’ve sent multiple texts at once, all caps and fighting emojis. Not just “i have plans tomorrow. maybe next time.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my best friend,” you mumbled to yourself. You sighed to yourself and placed your phone back on your desk. Maybe he’s really mad at you for ignoring him the whole day. In your defense, you were showing your cousin around town! You hadn’t checked your phone the entire day.

‘I should probably get him coffee as an apology tomorrow,’ you thought to yourself as you got ready for bed. Yeah, coffee sounds like a good plan.

You were wrong. It was not a good plan. It all started the next morning when you sent a good morning text to Haechan. He didn’t reply to you. You found it weird but you brushed it off. Maybe he was rushing off to school. He had a habit of waking up late anyways.

But the moment you saw him at campus, he immediately took off without giving you a chance to call out for him. Even weirder. Every corner you turn, there he is laughing with someone else but the moment you take your eyes off him for a second, he’s gone. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched Haechan trying to subtly walk away from you. He can’t really be that mad at you, right?

It has been 4 days since you last saw Haechan and it basically confirmed your suspicions. He was avoiding you. But the question was why?

You tried to remember if you did anything to piss him off the past week but your brain gave you nothing. You tried asking his friends but they shrugged as they didn’t know the reason as well. You finally decide that you had enough of it and go to confront him.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Haechan’s apartment door. You rang the doorbell and waited, rocking back and forth on your heels. You heard shuffling coming from behind the door and it opened to reveal a just-woken-up-from-a-nap Haechan.

You smiled at him once he opened the door but Haechan’s eyes widened and he slammed the door shut. You blinked. What just happened? Regaining from the shock of his actions, you wasted no time and bent down to get the spare key under the welcome mat.

You quickly opened the door to his apartment and stepped in, ready to give Haechan a piece of your mind for his stupid antics. Haechan shrieked when he saw you came in.

You glared at him and jut her finger at him accusingly. “You’ve been avoiding me,” you said.

Haechan gulped and played it off. “No, I have not,” he said through gritted teeth and walked past you to the kitchen.

“Yes, yes you have! I texted you and you didn’t even reply back for days, Haechan,” you said, following him into the kitchen.

“Taste of your own medicine, then,” he mumbled under his breath. But it was loud enough for you to pick it up.

You raised a brow and scoffed. “Is this because I didn’t answer your texts the other day?”

Haechan turned his head to the side, not wanting to make eye contact. His lack of response told you that it was a yes.

“Haechan, you can’t be serious. I told you I was at a family reunion!”

You stared at him with your doe eyes widened. “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend, what are you talking about?”

“Are you sure you weren’t out with your boyfriend,” he blurted out. Haechan slapped his hand over his mouth, that wasn’t supposed to be said out loud.

“I saw you with another guy at the arcade that day,” he blurted out once again. He winced once those words left his mouth. Dang it Haechan, couldn’t he keep his mouth shut just this once?

You blinked for a few seconds before realization finally settled in. You couldn’t help but laugh at his accusation, causing Haechan to glare at you. “You mean Jongho? He’s my cousin,” you told him after you stopped laughing.

Oh.

Your cousin. The word echoed in his head. The "boyfriend" was just your cousin.

“Besides,” you added, leaning against the counter, “why would you care if I got a boyfriend anyway? What, do you like me or something?”

Haechan visibly stiffened at the last sentence. Oh boy, he hopes you didn’t notice him freeze. But of course you noticed it, you noticed every detail of him.

“Wait, do you actually like me?” You asked. You were internally panicking. Holy shit, does he like you? It’s too good to be true, right?

“Yeah,” he said quietly after a few seconds of silence. He was looking down at his feet. “Is that a bad thing?” He whispered, finally lifting his head up to meet your gaze.

‘Of course it isn't, because I like you too,’ you wanted to tell him. You had liked him the moment he introduced himself as your neighbour when they were 6 years old. But the way he flirts around other girls always gave you the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

You stayed silent too long for Haechan’s liking. ‘Oh no, they’re going to reject me,’ he thought. Before you could even open his mouth, he quickly added on, “It’s okay if you don’t like me though! I totally get it.”

“Haechan—“

“No, no it’s okay, Y/N. I understand. You don’t like me, I mean of course you wouldn’t. You probably see me as a brother and nothing more. So let’s just forget this ever happened and—“

He was too busy rambling to notice that you were advancing towards him. You got on your tiptoes and gave him a peck on his lips. Haechan immediately shut up, and froze on the spot. It was merely a peck but it was more than enough to make him stop working. His cheeks were now red at the sudden contact. You had an amused smile in your lips.

“D-Does this mean you like me too?” He stuttered out.

Instead of saying anything, you nodded and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him down for another kiss, this time it was longer. Haechan smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist.

When you pulled away, you whispered, “I like you too, idiot.”

[bonus]

“Wait, so Jongho is that cousin who could break apples with his hand? While singing?!” Haechan repeated what you told him. You were now sitting on his lap, your back against his chest, his arms around you.

“Uh huh, he even broke a watermelon with his finger once,” you added. “And he’s like an older brother to me, so if you ever break my heart...”

Haechan visibly shuddered at the thought of Jongho breaking his neck. He hugged you tighter and buried his head into your neck, causing you to let out a laugh.

thank you for reading and requests are open!

#requested #kpop #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #haechan imagines #nct haechan #nct dream haechan #haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan smut #lee donghyuck imagines #donghyuck #kpop imagines

[isa-ghost]

Hi, same anon who asked about ego shipping. I just saw you reblogged a post from an artist who is pretty well known for their ship art and I just thought you would've blocked them, so I got kinda confused by that. And I know people who ship egos also reblog your posts so idk. It's fine to not like ego shipping, I wasn't saying that it wasn't. You're allowed to like and dislike whatever. You didn't have to be so hostile like that :( I didn't mean to make you mad

Rereading it, my answer doesn't sound AS hostile as it was in my head when I first wrote it, but I'm sorry regardless! I tried not to be super aggressive, but I thought you were like anons about ego shipping I've had in the past that have sent similar messages to yours, but meant them in a rude way. You didn't really make me mad, I just thought I was dealing with another one of those anons so I responded the way I did.

I couldn't read the tone of your question as legit confusion and thought it was another of those. 😅

I've had shippers sneak into my askbox in the past sending me "Gotcha!" type messages like they'd ""caught me"" being an ego shipper and reaching at straws or just straight up being passive aggressive or really nasty to me because *god forbid* I don't like something they do. It's happened a bunch of times and usually when I get one, a bunch more shippers follow.

Since my idiot ass couldn't read the tone of your question as Actual confusion, I assumed it was one of them like uM i tHoUgHt yOu DiDnT LiKe iT?? because I've gotten snotty anons like that saying they're "confused" before. (¬_¬ )

I genuinely don't know of any shippers that I interact with [apparently regularly] unless I just don't realize they post that content. Shows how little I pay attention to shipping content though. xD

I'm not quite a "shippers DNI" person, its more like Just Keep The Shipping Away From Me And My Blog and people who disrespect that will catch these hands.

As far as them interacting with my posts, I can't control who likes or reblogs it and they only get blocked if they're an ass about me disliking shipping; which I think has only happened 1-3 times I can remember?? But honestly, probably more. I had at least one BIG shipper send a bunch of people to attack my askbox once.

I hate getting anons like that though, because now I immediately get defensive and snippy like I did with you. >:/ Again, sorry about that. I've legit never gotten someone ACTUALLY confused about it before.

What I don't get is that I've been quiet on the ego front aside from reblogging art for a While, and yet I've gotten at least 2 shitty anons about not liking shipping within the last year or so. I wonder if they stumble across old posts of me speaking against it or something... :/

Thank you for coming back to my askbox and letting me know you weren't one of Those anons. :') I really appreciate it, especially so I could apologize for making assumptions.

But yeah, you can ship egos and follow me. Just keep that stuff Far Away from me and my blog. 🙏🏻

#not to slightly dampen the genuine reply but i almost typed ''Fart Away from me'' and wanted to share bc its really funny #i hope that helps lighten things hgfbghf

[kinetic-elaboration]

100 Days of Writing: Day Sixty-Three

I decided to catch up on The 100 Days of Writing and then I... accidentally wrote a large number of words. In my defense, this is like 2 weeks’ worth of questions. Also I skipped the ones I didn’t have anything to say about so actually this could be worse.

(I’m not even kidding, this is really long. I talk about writing rituals, tools for plotting, my thoughts on opening with dialogue and why I don’t like it, my favorite topics, the weather, and what length of fic I like to write.)

I’m tagging, and apologizing to, @the-wip-project and fellow participants @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold, @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @easilydistractedbyfanfic, @dylanobrienisbatman, and @fontainebleau22.

*

Day 49: How do you get yourself in the mood to write? Do you have a ritual?

Every time I tell myself I’m going to get back into doing these questions, I see this one in my bookmarks and go nope! and turn around. It’s not a hard question; I’ve just been having trouble consistently getting into the mood to write, so I feel like any answer I try to give to it will be, in some sense, a lie. Like do I ever get “in the mood” to write? Really?? Also, I feel like I’m relying too much on ‘ritual,’ building up ‘the perfect writing situation’ in my head, which at the end of the day is less important than just saying ‘I’m going to do this now’ and then doing it.

I do have some things I always do when I sit down to a writing session. I write on my couch. Almost always (unless I’m on an event deadline where I just have to write in bits and pieces whenever possible), I write in sprints—I use write or die to keep me actually typing and not staring into space. I write in order, and I often write a whole scene at a time. So before I start I need to have at least a couple solid opening sentences in mind, plus some kind of idea about what happens/needs to happen in the scene. In order to get in the right headspace, I usually spend some time just thinking before I actually get to writing. I reread my outline or notes, and skim whatever I might have already written on the project. Sometimes I look at images that help me get in the right mood. Sometimes I just imagine or daydream for a bit. The difficulty, especially recently, is in making sure I do this just enough and not too much, because then I get too caught up in my head and I can no longer translate what I’m seeing into words.

In a broader sense, I also have a building up to writing ritual—again, I think this is part of my problem, that I don’t know how to balance this build up with actual writing. In the hours/days before writing something, I turn it over in my head a lot. I practice different versions of those critical opening sentences. I play it out like a fantasy just to see if there’s a possible flow, even if the final version is different. Basically, I try to turn it into something that just needs to be written, that just needs to get out. But again—this can lead to overthinking and frustration.

The best way I can describe writing for me is that, when it goes well, I find a rhythm, or enter into a zone, where I can describe the images in my head in a way that’s both accurate and pleasant to read. But entering that zone or finding that rhythm is like jumping into a game of jump rope. If you don’t do it right, you’re just going to trip over your feet and get tangled in the rope. But if you do it correctly, it’s fun and exhilarating and you can keep jumping for a long time. Sometimes it takes me some false starts to jump in. And recently I’ve been having days where I just can’t at all, where I tangle the rope up so much I can’t unknot it. Those are the days I just have the same sentences repeating over and over in my head, sounding wrong, and I can’t do anything about it. On the other hand, I write in much longer sprints than I did a couple years ago. I used to only write partial scenes, maybe a few hundred words. Now I can write whole scenes without stopping, and on a few occasions, I’ve written multiple scenes or even whole stories without stopping. So in other words, when it works,  it really works. But it doesn’t always, and there’s not a lot of in between.

*

Day 50 What fic/story made you?

Um… honestly I’ve been writing, in general and fic specifically, for such a long time that I didn’t have a ‘maybe I can do this’ moment. I mean one problem I’ve never had is thinking I can’t do this. I had positive reinforcement for my school and academic writing, and for a long time my fictional stories were just for me, and I knew what I liked. Even just thinking about my fic writing… I’ve been posting fic online since 2006, and I’ve been in multiple fandoms. I don’t really have much connection to a lot of those early stories anymore. They feel like they were written by someone else, a little. I’ve also moved on from most of the fandoms I wrote for in my early fic days so I don’t feel like I can really judge them anymore.

That said… there is kinda an obvious answer for my Star Trek fic lol. I also have favorite stories, and stories that stick out even years after I wrote them, in all (or at least most) of the fandoms I’ve been in. But I’m not sure if that’s the same.

Also, I had two teachers who were really encouraging of me and who I still think about often. One was my seventh grade English teacher, who had us do a lot of writing exercises of various types, both large and small, including keeping writing journals we wrote in every day at the start of class. He once told my mom that I wrote well, not for a seventh grader, but in general, and to be honest I still think of that with some regularity and take a lot of pride and comfort in it. The other was my creative writing professor in college. I don’t think I did my best work for that class, but she was very encouraging and seemed to like what I did. At the end of the semester, as I was preparing my portfolio, she told me that if I didn’t want to do much editing, I didn’t have to, because my unedited work would stand on its own. Again, especially considering all the problems that I saw with my writing for that class even then, I really took that comment to heart. When I’m feeling very self-critical, I remind myself that even my raw scribblings have, perhaps, something to them, and it helps ease the excessive and unwarranted pressure I put on myself. These aren’t really stories about specific writing pieces that ‘made’ me but I do think they speak to that ‘maybe I can do this’ feeling.

*

Day 51: Do you use tools for plotting and what are they?

So, generally, no. Sometimes I’ll look at various writing/plotting/organizational tools as a method of distraction, but my actual process is very simple. I use plain old notebooks and pens, and word documents on my computer, to plan all my fics, from the one-shots to the multi-chapters. I start by writing down general thoughts and brainstorming, then I build a scene list and/or outline, and then, if necessary, I separate the scenes lists into chapters. Sometimes I break down the scenes even more, if I have additional ideas I don’t wan to forget or if I know I need to hit certain points in a specific scene. The process varies a little bit from project to project, but that’s basically all I do.

I did use Evernote to plan the (still unwritten….) Ark AU. I don’t know if that was the best program choice or if something else exists that would have more precisely met my needs. But that’s what I used and that’s how it is. It’s a little annoying that every time I open it, it’s been updated, and the interface looks totally different and I have to relearn where everything is. But the tagging system has worked decently to allow me to see the big picture of this complex, multi-strand, multi-character, multi-ship disaster epic of a story. I struggled to plot it for a long time because I didn’t know how to balance all of the different parts. In Evernote, I made one ‘note’ for each character, and one for each scene (in addition to miscellaneous notes about sub plots, relationships, questions, etc.). Then I tagged each of them, including tagging the scenes by chapter. So now I can look at a list of all the characters, or all the scenes, or all of the scenes in chapter 8, or whatever, but I can also look at just one particular note at a time, and not be distracted by anything else. That said, I do also have one note that is just a total scene list for the whole fic, which is pretty reminiscent of my usual outlining process.

So… somehow this helped me plot (tentatively) the whole thing, but as I’ve written almost none of it—I finished outlining this in February 2020 so in my defense… I think you can see why it stalled—I’m not yet sure if it was a successful experiment in a ‘plotting tool.’

*

Day 60: How do you start your chapters? Do you start with dialogue? Why or why not?

While I am definitely against prescriptive “writing rues” generally, as my own personal rule, I try not to start with dialogue unless I have a very good reason.

To be quite honest, I think it’s lazy. I do think that dialogue openings can be used well, if the writer acknowledges that they are intensely stylistic and, from a reader’s perspective, quite difficult. Even within fanfiction, where a line of dialogue (especially if accompanied by a dialogue tag or swiftly followed by a reference to the speaker) gives a lot more information to the reader than in original fiction, opening with dialogue still shoves the reader directly into the deep end of the scene, with very little to orient her. WHERE is the speaker? WHO is being addressed in the dialogue? WHAT is the context of the conversation? Who ELSE might be present in the scene?

There are reasons you might want to throw the reader in the aforementioned deep-end. Maybe it’s an in media res situation and you want to emphasize the overwhelming nature of the action—starting a scene with “Get down!” for example. Or maybe the overall mood is one of disorientation or floating or uncertainty, and you want to create the same effect in the reader.

But I think if you’re starting a scene with dialogue because that’s the first thing that comes to mind for you—the person who conveniently already has the setting, character list, and even future plot already in mind—and it’s just simplest and easiest to start that way, you’re doing a disservice to the reader.

For example, I actually am planning to start the next chapter of the Sleeping Beauty AU with dialogue. My POV character is in a room with multiple other characters, and she’s examining something meaningful to her and not fully listening to the conversation around her. So I want the dialogue to float around in the background, to feel unmoored, and to stand in contrast to the very precise, detailed thoughts and memories that she’s experiencing, which are grounded in physical sensations like touch.

I haven’t quite gotten it to work yet, though, in part because opening with dialogue and doing it well is, in my opinion, quite hard. The difficulty lies in alleviating the challenges the reader is experiencing and making the text fluid and easy to picture. You need to get all of that scene-setting information—the who, what, when, where, and why—in very quickly, but without being jarring. In this scene in particular, I have multiple characters, all in a comparatively unusual location, and I need to establish where they are, who exactly is there, how they’ve come to meet my POV character (which happens ‘off screen’ between the end of Ch5 and the beginning of Ch6), all on top of the character’s thoughts and feelings.

I know all of this very well. To picture the scene in my own head takes only a moment. I just think about it and I see all seven of the characters, where they’re sitting, how they’re positioned, what their facial expressions are, and I also know roughly what each of them is thinking and feeling. To describe all of this in words would take several sentences. Do I put all those sentences on the front end? Do I weave them in among other description and dialogue? Is all of it even necessary—maybe we don’t need to know who’s sitting in what order on the couch, for example.

I’ve gone over a couple of different ways to do this in my head, and I’m sure it is possible, but I’m struggling to get it all down in a coherent way. (Admittedly, I’ve only made one solid attempt. As I was describing above, I’m probably going to jump in with several false starts, and then it will suddenly click.)

My initial attempt to set up the scene relied heavily on dialogue, but when I read it over, what sounded snappy and interesting in my head just fell completely flat—because it lacked context and thus, any meaning. I think the gulf between how dialogue openings feel to the writer and how they feel to the reader is large. To the writer, they feel easy and natural. To the reader, they can feel forced and, contrary to the writer’s intention, serve as an additional reminder that this is a constructed narrative rather than an immersive experience—the opposite of natural. In other words, as I said, they’re a highly stylized form of writing.

To illustrate, this was my first try at the Chapter 6 intro:

"I still can't believe it," a lightly awed voice says from somewhere behind Clarke. "The Princess of Alpha Station really used to live in our quarters.”

She pictures Miller, sunk into the couch cushions, slowly shaking his head, the expression on his face equal parts satisfied and amused.

"Really? That's what you think is the oddest part of all this?"

"Yeah, Bry, I do. Would you prefer I gloat? About being right this whole time? Who says she's just a legend now?"

My current idea is to still start with dialogue, but to move back into a significant amount of description pretty immediately afterward, and only then add more dialogue. Even this is a little hazy, since I haven’t thought much about this fic in a while. But I do think it’s quite clear this won’t work.

As for how I DO start chapters/scenes/stories… I like to start with a strong image that sets the scene and mood of the story, and hopefully leaves the reader wanting to know more. Here are some examples of story openings I’ve written recently, which I like a lot:

When Bellamy is angered, deafening bouts of thunder shake the heavens.

The cawing of the crows—high, sharp, angry shots of sound. The buzzing of the telephone wires.

Marcus Kane's body shows up again in June, skeletal and rotting, six months after his disappearance at the turn of the year.

The sky has turned a bruised yellow, like the inside of a plum, by the time Bellamy starts seeing the robots in the fields.

At noon on the third-to-last day before Christmas, Murphy leaves the cafe, with a single peppermint mocha and a small paper bag, and heads right, walking parallel to the ocean.

The last one doesn’t seem as interesting but consider: you get the who, what, when, and where, the mystery of the paper bag and where he might be going, and also the immediate understanding that this is probably going to be a Fluffy Beach Christmas story—which is correct, that’s exactly what it is.

I’m not saying that I’m always creative or unique. I often start stories off with descriptions of the weather. And I have committed the ~~cardinal sin~~ of starting with a character waking up, heaven forbid. I don’t have any hard and fast rules for myself other than that I try to avoid dialogue, or at least, be careful about its use (another example: I use dialogue to start off Mad Women—but it reads like narration, until it’s rudely interrupted, a sort of in-joke/reference/twist). I try to match the mood of the story and, as I said, include something that will create a question for the reader, some version of why, that the rest of the story will answer.

*

Day 61: Do you describe the weather? Try changing a scene you wrote by adding weather effects.

After writing a book for the last question, here’s an easy one! Yes, I describe the weather. A lot. Often. In detail.

(Though if we’re talking about the Sleeping Beauty AU as my “current wip,” I actually don’t do much weather describing there, because 4 of the 6 chapters take place in a location with no weather.)

 *

Day 62: What is your favorite thing to write about?

Honestly I like to write about people being dramatic about their emotions. That’s what I’ve discovered while writing my surprisingly self-indulgent Troped fic: I want to describe people acting as if Everything was the Most Ever. It’s fun. Part of this is getting into the usual romantic tropes—longing, pining, exaggerated touches and glances and the like—but why stop at romance when you also have stuff like The Weather and Random Feelings to contemplate?

I also like setting scenes that I find soothing, which is part of why I like Seasonal Stories.

 *

Day 63: Are you more of a drabble/flash or a longfic/novel kind of writer?

I’m in the middle. I mostly write one-shots, and I’ve noticed that a lot of them fall in the 4-6k range. Long one-shots can get all the way to 10-12k but I feel like most of those are, semi-objectively speaking, too long, and would probably have been stronger if they were pruned down to 6k, or, better yet, never made it past 6k in the first place.

I have written some multi-chapters, or, uh, started multi-chapters, but I’m VERY bad at it. The only thing that makes me slightly less bad is being stubborn. Hence the existence of a WIP that I’ve had going for over 10 years now and refuse to call abandoned. Hence this year’s extended angst about the Sleeping Beauty AU, which is only 6 chapters but has taken me literally years to write. I don’t honestly know if I’ve ever finished a multi-chapter WIP, like, properly speaking. I’ve done some short multi-chapters that I wrote as if they were one-shots and then split up for ease of reading or, I dunno, just because. I wrote a Big Bang once, but it’s not very good. Nor very long, if I remember correctly. Generally speaking I probably shouldn’t be allowed to write novels lol—I have a lot of them in my ‘I should write this one day’ idea list—but as it so happens, no one can stop me, so here we are. I definitely have wild fantasies of writing multi-chapters with ease but I’m just a very slow writer and my ideas can’t keep up with my actual-writing. Thus one shots are much easier than multi-chaps, and one-shots on a deadline are much easier than ‘I’ll finish this whenever’ one-shots. One-shots written for events or exchanges also tend to be shorter (and, imo, better) because of the deadlines they’re written on, and are thus more likely to hit that sweet 4-6k spot than stories where I’m allowed to ramble at will.

All that said, I ALSO write a good number of drabbles/writing exercises. I used to write them more often than I do now, but still over the last five years I’ve produced 110,000+ words in free-standing scenes so like… that’s also a thing I guess.

#100 days of writing #my 100 days of writing #100daysofwriting

[write4tomorrow]

Husband and Wife (Part 2)

Word Count: 2562

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: About a year after The Rise of Skywalker, peace in the galaxy is fragile. The Resistance is faced with new diplomatic problems as they try to maintain the peace. Trade routes are especially tricky and has forced Y/N to test her abilities as a negotiator. Due to tirelessly, negotiating with different planets and systems, Y/N has become the new face of peace and hope. Does this make General Poe Dameron jealous? 

Genre: Adventure / Fluff / Angst

Part 1      Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Epilogue (Complete)

Nix Altross needed more time. The Rebellion needed peace to prevail. You needed this trade deal to go well. Yet, nothing seemed to be going your way. The brief meeting with the farmers on Coruscant revealed that they already made up their minds: they were not interested in trading with other systems. 

“They were ready to sign a deal,” General Dameron was furious, “why are they suddenly uninterested?” He was pacing in the small rooms where you two would be spending the night. It had a small square dining area and a large window that looked over the city. You sat at the table, rubbing a small piece of paper between your gloved fingers. Distractedly, you watched General Dameron talk. He paced between his small bedroom and the shared living space and you were thankful that Connix had found a space that had separate sleeping quarters. On either end of the living space were the two small bedrooms, one for you to the right and one for the General to the left. BB8 came whirling out of General Dameron’s room. 

“I know!” General Dameron kicked the chair opposite you. BB8 rolled back defensively which did not go unnoticed by the General. He crouched down and gave his droid an apologetic pat. You knew the fury hadn’t left him. You could see that he was beginning to channel it elsewhere - a feeling you knew too well. 

“What do you have to say about all this?” General Dameron sat down on the floor next to his droid. For the first time since the meeting, he talked to you instead of at you. “You haven’t spoken since the meeting,” he said slowly. He was starting to realize that you the beginnings of a plan forming in your mind. 

“Read this,” you handed the slip of paper to the General, glad that he seemed more rational now. You watched him read the note and noticed every twitch in his brow and the way his mouth creased at the corners. 

“Where did you get this?” Poe read and reread the note. One of the farmers, the unofficial spokesperson for the group, had slipped you the note when he shook your hand goodbye. He was apologetic, but insisted that there be no more meetings. However, he palmed you the note and gave you a hopeful wink as he departed. Even with the gesture, you could sense the fear in the group. There was something wrong here. 

“The farmer gave it to me when he shook my hand,” you explained, “we should go.” The note was a brief apology and a location for a meeting place. The rendezvous was set for a few hours from now. 

“I’ll get my blaster and we’ll-” The General ready for action, almost itching for it. You silenced him with a wave of your hand. You were ready to do something too, but you knew what happened to people who rushed into things. This needed to be thought out. 

“We need to inform the Generals about what happened. At the very least, Nix needs to know that he doesn’t have much time to broker a deal with the outer rim bounty hunters.” You watch as General Dameron nods and pulls out his com. You do the same and the two of you set them flat against the table, sitting opposite of one another. 

Small, blue holograms of each of the generals flickered to life as they each picked up the signal. You noticed that Nix was the last to answer, but first to speak.

“I guess you’re not calling with good news,” Nix’s voice crackled over the com speaker. General Dameron shook his head.

“The farmers are refusing to negotiate. They gave y/n a note, though-” Dameron explained. He held up the note so everyone could read it. Nix became eerily still. 

“They’re scared of something,” you said after a moment, “we need to go to this meeting, but we cannot go as General Dameron and Y/F/N Y/L/N of the Resistance. We would draw too much attention with the extra security and off world clothes. We need to go undercover.” You kept your eyes on Nix, but you could tell General Dameron was watching you. 

“Y/N is right,” General Calrissian agreed, “I have a contact on Coruscant that can get you some clothes. Maybe this meeting can buy you some time for Altross. I don’t like that you have to go to this meeting with no security detail. You’ll have nothing but each other to watch your backs.”

“We’ll be find.” You and General Dameron say in unison. Nix almost flinched at that. 

“You two need to think of a cover,” Connix explained. Again, you and Dameron speak at once.

“Husband and Wife,” General Dameron says with a smile.

“Siblings.” You demand at the same time. Finn lets out a small laugh as your cheeks become warm. 

“I’m no spy,” Finn continues, “but when I was with the First Order, I know that intelligence considered people by themselves to be the most dangerous. People in pairs were also very suspicious unless, they were a couple. Especially a couple with children.” 

“Husband and wife, then!” General Dameron says all too happily. You knew that couples were less suspicious than siblings but you were hoping to avoid stepping into that role. 

“They have no kids.” Nix seemed just as opposed to the idea as you felt. Still, you knew that this job required stealth and caution and your comfort level wasn’t going to get in the way of security. 

“I’m going to be his very pregnant wife,” you say with a sigh. A mischievous twinkle glistens in Dameron’s eye and both Connix and Finn laugh at the thought you pregnant with Dameron’s child. Even Calrissian seemed to be amused by the idea. The only face on the coms that was not amused was Nix. His usually charming smile was as cold as ice and his glare was for you alone. 

“It’s settled then,” General Calrissian said, “I’ll have things delivered to you shortly.” All of the generals hung up their coms with a quick word of good luck. Nix was the last to hang up and spoke to General Dameron before leaving.

“You take care of her,” Nix nearly growled. You were about to interject but General Dameron nodded, respectfully.

“She’s in great hands, Altross. BB8 won’t let anything happen to her,” General Dameron hung up before Nix could say anything else. The General turned his attention to you. 

“Well, dear wife,” The General asked slowly, “what is the name of our first born?” You swatted at him and tried to hide your flustered smile. 

The next few hours were spent alone in your room. After hashing out some small details of your cover with the General, you decided to try napping. Really, you just wanted to be alone. Your com kept buzzing with messages from Nix. You ignored all of them but you felt guilty that Nix was worried about you. Instead of answering his messages, you turn on the tracking option on your com. This way, Nix will be able to see where you are and will know that you aren’t in trouble. It wasn’t as good as answering his messages but you decided to just lie down until you had to leave for the meeting. 

The only time you were disturbed was when the clothes arrived. They were simple farmers clothes. You wore a loose maternity dress and found that your outfit came complete with a swollen, stuffed belly. Wearing it, you felt ridiculous. As you tried waddling around the room, you made yourself smile. Even the General couldn’t hide his grin when he first saw you. 

“You’re leaving the gloves on?” Dameron asked as he strapped his blaster discreetly under his shirt. You had two strapped to either thigh and felt a little more secure. 

“Just the one blaster?” You chided. Dameron looked you over, as if searching for where you might hide your own weapons. 

“You think we’ll run into trouble, my dear?” Dameron asked. He was far too ready to play husband and wife. You wondered why he might be so comfortable with the role. 

“I have some informants on Coruscant,” you explained as you took a seat. The false belly was heavier than you expected. “There have been whispers the new weapons that are developed on this planet. There are corners of this galaxy that are weaponizing faster than the Resistance realizes. Just the other day Nix was telling me about an interrogation technique that involved making the victim believe they were losing their five senses. It’s incredibly painful to experience but leaves no scars behind. There is also a new machine that can erase someone’s memory. It’s also incredibly painful and slow. Most test subjects that live through it have some form of brain damage for the rest of their life. There is also-”

“I get it,” Dameron cuts you off, “I’ll go grab another blaster.” When he comes back he hands a scarf to you. 

“Thanks to all the negotiating you’ve been doing, your face is one of the most recognizable in the galaxy,” Dameron explains before you can ask, “wear this around the bottom half of your face and try to avoid eye contact with people.” Was he really giving you lessons on how to blend in? You are one of the best spies in the galaxy. Still, he takes the scarf and begins to tie it around you. His chest is almost touching your back and you can smell him as he moves behind you. Like the sound of his voice, Dameron smells warm. It makes you think of honey and pine and somewhere safe. Lost in the smell, you lean back into him. He paused for a moment. 

“Tired, y/n?” Dameron moved around to face you. He seems concerned and you were glad that he could not see your blush under the scarf. 

“I’m ready,” you answered simply. Dameron took your arm and began to escort you to the door. BB8 followed the two of you out with a strange chirp that maked Dameron smile. 

 Walking through the lower markets of Coruscant with Dameron wasn’t as taxing as you thought it would be. He was actually very charming. Along the way, he kept his arm intertwined with yours and pointed to different types of spice and local goods. He seemed to know everything about everything. Dameron even made up stories for some of the vendors as you walked past. 

“He’s actually a secret prince from two plannets over who was banished by his sister,” Dameron said as he pointed to an elderly vendor. 

“Why was he banished?” You had to speak louder than usual to be heard through the scarf and over the ruckus of the market. Still, you enjoyed playing along in Dameron’s game. 

“You can’t tell? He slept with his sister’s husband. It’s written all over his face!” You laugh and cling to Dameron a little tighter. He had managed to wring more laughter from your lips in the past hour than anyone had in the past few months. His laughter seemed to come easily too. He laughed when you laughed and, in some instances, seemed to laugh only because he had made you laugh. Being with Dameron was easy and you suddenly found that you were thankful that he was here with you. However, you had to keep reminding yourself that you were in the middle of your job; you couldn’t be too comfortable. 

“I’ve heard rumors about your gloves,” Dameron finally says slowly, “I hear you keep every secret you’ve ever stolen in those gloves.” You smile and hope that he didn’t notice your hands tense around his arm.

“That’s ridiculous, Poe,” you keep your eyes forward. 

“Just a style choice, then?” Dameron asked, but you knew he didn’t believe that. You glanced up at him and saw the gentle curiosity in his expression. Something about this General was welcoming. The little voice in your ear kept telling you, trust this one. 

“I’m not the best spy in the galaxy because I’ve never been caught,” you begin to explain, “during the war, the First Order found me. I was kept for weeks in captivity. At first, there was no physical torture. They kept me in a room that overloaded my senses: bright lights, loud and erratic noises, almost no food and freezing temperature. Then, when it was convenient for him, Kylo Ren came to interrogate me himself. With his lightsaber,” you gingerly slip one of your gloves off to reveal your hand, “Ren carved my arm until it was almost unusable. What good is a spy if they cannot pick pockets or write down secrets?” General Dameron took your exposed, scarred arm in his and stared at it. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking for words. 

“I was rescued,” you continued, “I gave up the name of an empty base which distracted Ren enough to leave me alone. The Resistance came for me. I spent months trying to relearn how to use my hands. I still cannot write like I used to. Because of this, I rely on my memory and what I hear. For the most part I’ve put the incident behind me, I’ve even forgiven Ben. I heard about his stand against Palpatine. I just… I can’t stand the sight of my arms.” You were surprised by how your voice sounded by the end of your explanation. It was soft and fragile, not the voice of a skilled negotiator or a confidant diplomat. You were even more surprised when Dameron brought your hand to his lips and silently slid your glove back on. 

“Will you wait right here for a minute?” Dameron asked with a small grin. Without waiting for you to answer he said, “There’s a small vendor we past that has the best molten cakes. I’m going to get a couple for us later.” You watched as Dameron quickly went back the way you came. His dark head of curly hair seemed to weave and bob elegantly through the crowd, it was entrancing. So much so, you didn’t notice the shadows moving behind you. 

“I’ve never heard that story before,” you turn around to find Nix standing in the shadows. He gives you a grin but the usual charm is replaced by a wolfish quality that leaves you unnerved. 

“You’re here,” you stammer, “did things on the outer rim…” you trail off as Nix levels a small blaster at your chest. He seems almost apologetic when you look back up at him... almost. He weaves his arm through yours like Dameron had done just moments ago. Only this time, you found no comfort from the touch. You didn’t understand and you looked over your shoulder for Dameron. Where was he?

Nix tisked as he began to pull you away from the crowded street. He lead you into a dark alley with the blaster tucked against your ribs. Neither of you said a word. Suddenly, Nix pushed you in front of him. 

“Don’t worry, hon,” Nix said with a sympathetic look, “It’s just set to stun.” 

As Nix pulled the trigger, the last thing you thought you heard was Dameron’s voice calling for you from somewhere far, far away.

Part 3

A/N: Part two, done! Thank you for reading part two!! This project has obviously turned into a chapter story and I am so excited to get the next three chapters out. Please let me know what you think!

#poe dameron #poe DAMNeron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x oc #Poe Damn son #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars: the rise of skywalker #star wars imagine #oscar isaac #reader insert

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Chapter Five - Origins

The Echo in the Mirror

Words: 2,503

Ship: None

Warnings: Alcohol mention, mentions of underage drinking (no-one gets drunk), Body mutation, panic attack, sex jokes

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck @madly-handsome​ @strickenwithclairvoyance​ @limitededitionsanderssidesblog​ @ab-artist​ @sometimeswritingsometimesdying  @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ @because-were-fam-ily @gattonero17​ @analogical-mess​ @joaniejustwokeup​ @whycantihavemorethan32characters​

---

If there was one thing the Dormir cousins were famous for, it was parties. So, it was no surprise that Remy’s Halloween party was one of the biggest events of the year. It was also very exclusive, you had to know the right people to get in. Any regular student would have dropped everything for a chance to go. Anyone except for Logan Hamilton, who had barely spoken to Roman or Virgil in days.

It was Wednesday, October 30th and the lunch bell had just rung. “You can’t keep ignoring me forever, Logan,” Virgil said. Logan only walked away, giving him a silent message. “That’s a very rude hand gesture!” he yelled.

Virgil sighed, falling against the wall as Logan walked away. He felt a hand on his shoulder and didn’t even bother to look up. He already knew there was a fifty percent chance of it being Roman (and the other fifty percent chance of it being Remy). “He’ll be back eventually,” Roman said. “We just need to talk to him.”

“I’m trying but he’s impossible to talk to when he’s angry. We’ve really fucked up.”

“Maybe we can get Patton to talk to him.”

Virgil laughed. “You think he’d listen to Patton?”

“What’s wrong with Patton?”

“Nothing,” Virgil said. “To us.”

“To us?”

“You’re pretty oblivious, Princey.”

“Oblivious,” Roman repeated. “Are you saying Logan has a crush on me and therefore won’t talk to Patton?”

Virgil pulled himself from the wall and took Roman’s hand as they walked down the hall. “First of all, you wish Logan had a crush on you. I think you’re just looking for an excuse to change your name to Roman Hamilton.”

“Imagine marrying Logan Hamilton. I could never,” Roman teased.

“Shut up you’re getting off-topic.”

“Weirdly defensive about marrying Logan,” he teased, bumping into Virgil’s side with a laugh. He felt pain in his hand as Virgil’s fists grew tighter. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay, okay I take it back.”

“Even if I did have a crush on Logan, he’s straight,” Virgil said. “And you’re getting off-topic. He’s not listening to me, he’s obviously not going to listen to you, and Patton isn’t even in the same room as the table.”

“And, again, what’s wrong with Patton and why am I oblivious?”

“Logan doesn’t exactly, uh, like Patton. And if you haven’t been able to notice that, you certainly have your head in the clouds.”

“I’m king of the clouds.”

“You’re not even a prince, Duke.”

“Touché.”

“I’ll send him a text,” Virgil said. “I just... hope he’ll respond.”

“You guys have been best friends since- what? Seventh grade?” Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand and leaned into him. “He’ll come around.”

Virgil leaned into the touch, both their heads pressed together as they turned a corner towards the school cafeteria. “This is worse than any fight we’ve ever had. I don’t know what to do.”

Roman stopped dead in his tracks. He took Virgil by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. (He still had to grow used to the fact that Virgil was now taller than him. The growth spurt he had hit during his sophomore year was still a surprise.) “Everything is going to be fine,” he said. “You know how I know it will be? Because if Hamilton thinks he can hurt my second best friend then I’m going to kick his ass with my new weird crazy powers.”

“And what powers are those?”

“I’ll figure it out, okay? Now, c’mon, either Logan is going to come back and we can sort out this spirit situation. Or- Or- we forget about Logan for one night and I show you and Patton how to have a good time.”

“But what about-“

“Shhh.” Roman placed a finger over Virgil’s lips. “It’s a Remy Dormir party. We’re going to get drunk off our asses and have a great time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

It was Thursday, October 31, nearly 7:00 O’clock at night. When Roman had arrived Remy was busy locking the last of the bedroom and office doors, any room that would give him a death sentence if it were trashed.

“I brought drinks,” he announced, holding two plastic bags in his hands. Patton and Emile exchanged a glance, staring at Roman with quirked eyebrows. “Relax.” He pulled a bottle out from the bag. “It’s Sprite.”

“Ro, I’m glad you’re here,” Remy said, sliding three stacks of paper plates across the counter. “I need you guys to open these.”

“Great to see you too, Rem.”

“The pleasure is all yours I’m sure. Hey, hand me that pumpkin, will ya? Thanks, babe.”

“I’m pretty sure you call me that more than your own boyfriend.”

“Everyone else is ‘Babe’,” Remy explained, “Emile is ‘baby.’”

Emile blushed, his face redder than his Steven Universe shirt. “Reeeeemmmyyyy.”

“Save that for the bedroom, baby,” Remy teased.

Roman shoved a finger in his mouth and gagged. “You two are disgusting.”

Remy raised an eyebrow and threw a tape dispenser at Roman’s head. “Oh, please, like you haven’t jerked it to m-“

“OKAY! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he yelled, face bright red. He turned towards Patton and Emile. “Pro tip: Never fucking tell Remy about a crush.”

“I’d consider it a close matter,” he said, failing to hide a laugh. “Aww, c’mon it was years ago.”

“And yet, you’re still an asshole about it.”

“You act like you still have feelings.”

“You act like I won’t shake you off this damn ladder.”

“Ouch. Someone’s got a sore spot.”

“Ladder,” Roman warned. There was a knock on the door but it swung open before anyone could answer it.

“Sup, bitches! I brought beers!” Narcissa yelled. She wore all black with a leather jacket that could rival Remy’s own and a floppy witch hat that still had a price tag on the side. Her long black hair and choppy bangs framed her face nicely. She had a diamond stud in her nose and wore glittery purple eyeshadow.

“Eww.”

“Oh. Duke is here.”

“Ah. Draco can go fuck herself.”

The two stood silent, staring each other down for a total of five seconds before laughing and pulling each other into a hug. “Virgil pulled into the driveway a few seconds after me. He’ll be here in a few-“

“Sup, motherfuckers!”

“He’s here,” she deadpanned.

“Virgil! Virgil, look!” Roman said, smiling like a puppy. “It’s Narcissa.”

“Aww, it’s my chorus baby,” she cooed, ruffling Virgil’s hair. “We miss you.”

“Stop, stop, I spent an hour making this look perfect,” Virgil said. He was dressed head to toe in regal vampire gear with fake blood on his lips and chin.

“Lookin’ sharp, bloodsucker,” Roman complimented.

“Blood isn’t the only thing I suck,” he said with a wink. “Oh! Patton, you made it!”

“I did!” Patton said. “Any luck with, uh, you know who?”

Remy gasped as he jumped off the ladder. “Did someone take my title of You Know Who?!”

“That’s offensive to Lord Voldemort,” Narcissa said.

“Suck my dick, babe.”

“Only if you suck mine.”

“I haven’t had any luck,” Virgil said, taking a seat next to Patton. “I know he needs space, but I don’t know what to do. Our time is running out.”

“Emile,” Patton blurted out. “We could, uh, use Emile if Logan won’t agree.”

Virgil knitted his eyebrows together, glancing up and down at Patton as he wiggled in his seat. “You don’t sound too sure of yourself. Besides, replacing Logan would only make things worse.”

“You said yourself that we’re running out of time.”

“Patton, I-“

A voice escaped Patton’s throat, low and gravely, nothing like the young boy’s own. It said, “We only have tonight, Fear. What are you so afraid of?” Patton slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Your face is turning green.”

“Your arms are turning violet.”

“Princey,” Virgil called, “can we see you real quick?”

“Yeah, what’s- Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck indeed,” Virgil growled. He grabbed Patton and Roman’s hands and pulled them into the bathroom.

It’s Thursday, October 31, nearly 7:45 at night when Logan finds himself pacing in his bedroom, his eyes going up and down trying to reread a text Virgil had sent hours ago. He couldn’t think of a response.

Logan, we need to talk.

I’m so sorry about what happened at Patton’s house and I’m worried that I'll never get to apologize enough. I know you and Roman don’t always get along, but he really does care about you. The two of us have been fighting trying to figure out what’s best for you but that’s a choice only you can make. We’ll be at Remy’s house tonight and I really hope I can see you there and properly make amends.

We found a way to summon the fourth spirit. His name is Knowledge and I can think of no one more deserving than you of that power. But above all, I want my best friend back. So, please, talk to me.

Logan practically had the message memorized by now. He paced back and forth watching time move forward as his battery drained. Should he stay angry at Virgil and Roman for trying to make this choice without him? Should he forgive them? Should he accept this power? “Feelings,” he mumbled, “the bane of my existence.

Then his phone rang. His texts disappeared as a picture of Roman in a prince costume from behind the scenes of his last play took their place. Why was Roman calling? His finger hovered over the answer button before he finally gave in and clicked it.

“You have three seconds to explai-“

“Logan! Logan, oh thank fairy godmother you answered! We need your help!”

“Is this some sort of trap?”

“No! No, seriously, Virgil and Patton are here with me! We- We don’t know what’s going on! Patton has like- like scales or something! And Virgil looks like he barely escaped the Wonka factory!”

“Roman, your eyes,” he could hear Patton saying. “They’re red.”

“Logan! Just, please, we’re at Remy’s house! Get here as fast as you ca-” The line went dead. The clocks around him slowed, time never fully halting. The room began to dim. 

“Roman?” Logan asked, frantically trying to call him back. Every attempt failed. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was having a panic attack but he didn’t even have the time to pull himself out of it. He ran for his bedroom door, trying to pull it open but the handle wouldn’t budge.

“You are not needed there. Not yet,” a voice spoke.

Logan’s eyes welled with tears as he frantically pulled at the door handle. “LET ME OUT!” he screamed. “ROMAN NEEDS ME! LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

“No one can hear you now, Logan Zander Hamilton,” the voice said. “We have temporarily pulled apart from the known universe. There is no one outside that door. It’s only you and me. I suggest we have a little chat.”

Logan pressed his back against the door and fell to the ground, hugging his knees. “My- My friends,” he choked out. “They need me. They need me!”

“We need you, Logan Zander Hamilton,” he said, almost perfectly mimicking Virgil’s voice. Almost, yet too robotic. He wasn’t as caring and compassionate as Virgil always was. He appeared as a reflection in the mirror, a perfect doppelgänger to Logan but with something cold and robotic in his eyes. He looked like a man but he could not pass as human. “My friends and yours are now one.” He pressed his hand against the glass and walked through as easily as someone would walk through a wall of gelatin. And with that, the mirror seemed to bounce back as easily as gelatin without so much as a crack to prove that he had broken through. As he stepped closer, Logan could see how inhuman his eyes were. He was the cosmos hidden inside of a human shell. “Join me- Join us- and learn the secrets of your existence.”

“If- If I do this,” he asked, trying to wipe away the last of his tears, “will I be able to save my friends?”

“With the power of knowledge, you can save humankind.”

“They aren’t human, are they? Not anymore, at least. They’ve been... infected.”

“How observant of you.”

“I don’t need to save humankind,” he said, “I just need to save them.”

“Any panic or pain they are experiencing now is only at the cost of summoning me,” Knowledge said. “Whether aware or not, they have brought me to you. Neither I nor them will be at rest until I have a vessel.”

“For Virgil,” Logan said, “and for Roman. And Patton.” He stuck out his hand towards Knowledge. “I’ll do it.”

Knowledge took Logan’s hand. His human shell melted away and Logan found himself being blinded by the pure light in front of him. He expected to choke and cry in pain as Virgil and Roman had done. Instead, he found warmth traveling from his fingertips through his veins and arteries. He found warmth traveling through him in all directions. His head felt light and his chest felt full of the purest air.

Logan woke up from his bed. He slid on his glasses and looked at his reflection in his phone’s camera. His eyes held pools of stars. He was the cosmos inside of a human shell. He felt enlightened.

Logan put his phone in the pocket of his jeans, grabbed a jacket, and ran out of his house as fast as his legs would take him. When he got to Remy’s house his heart was pounding in the best possible way. He walked in, dodging students as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“LOGAN!” Virgil yelled, smiling brightly as the lights around them flickered with electricity.

“Maybe don’t destroy the lights here,” Logan teased. “You guys summoned a spirit. How the hell did you do that?”

“I, uh, think that was my fault,” Patton said meekly.

“It was Morality who started it,” Virgil corrected. “Not Patton.”

“Is there any difference?” Patton asked.

“Yes,” Logan said. “And no matter what, we must remember that there are differences between us and the spirits using us for personal gain.”

“Woah,” Roman whispered, leaning close to Logan. “Your eyes look wicked right now.”

“You accepted his powers,” Virgil said in disbelief. He smiled brightly, pulling Logan into a hug. “We’re superheroes!”

“We haven’t done anything heroic,” Logan said. “Being superhuman does not automatically make one a hero.”

“Be gay, fight crime,” Roman announced. Virgil shot him a look. “That’s going to be my motto. I’m copyrighting it as we speak.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Logan said with a laugh.

“That’s Logan’s way of saying ‘I love you.’”

“No, it’s just my way of calling you a nerd.”

There was an annoyed knock at the door. “Can you guys have your orgy somewhere else? You’ve been in there for nearly an hour,” Remy yelled.

The three of them laughed, their skin and faces slowly returning to normal. “Well, my friends,” Roman said. “Welcome to the rest of our lives.”

#sanders sides fic

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Drawn Together: Chapter 12

Feliciano might be overreacting a bit over this.

He was currently sitting on his phone, waiting for Elizabeta to respond to his slightly angry messages over not even giving him a hint of what to expect. Poor Ludwig was left on read.

Feliciano was excited, he truly was, but for some reason he was scared. Ludwig Beilschmidt was extremely close to being his new favorite author and then he messages him and Feliciano is freaking out because he does not know what in the world is he supposed to do. Responding is a good way to start, but what should he say in order to not sound like a weirdo? Now he knew how fanfiction readers felt like commenting on their favorite stories.

Maybe he should rule out 'have my babies' as a possible answer...

While he was having his meltdown, he failed to notice that it was suddenly night and Elizabeta responded.

Lizzie: Well... Lizzie: In my defense I did tell him not to say that Lizzie: Keep his identity hidden

Okay, Feliciano was furious now.

♡~Feli~♡: You could ve at least warned me ♡~Feli~♡: Like idk hes not what he seems feli ♡~Feli~♡: Or something like that

Lizzie: Sorry  *sad face emoji* Lizzie: Lud has no experience talking to people online Lizzie: So I didn't want to burden him with being too careful about being a writer Lizzie: But he really wanted to talk to you so please don't feel weird around him Lizzie: Pretty please Feli ♡

And now he felt bad. He was acting like an asshole to his friend who was just trying to help her own friend. And Ludwig was still waiting for a response.

Artisloveandlife: Hi Ludwig! Artisloveandlife: Tbh when Lizzie said she had someone who wants to talk to me I was kinda expecting a fellow fan Artisloveandlife: Talking to the author themself is a big deal so I'm sorry if I'm awkward.

Feliciano didn't even get a chance to rest his phone.

Lutzie71: You are not awkward. Lutzie71: But I have a question. Lutzie71: Who is Lizzie?

Artisloveandlife: Elizabeta. Artisloveandlife: Does she go by a different name now?

Lutzie71: I am sorry. Lutzie71: I am just used to calling her Betty.

Artisloveandlife: Don't apologize  *big smile emoji* Artisloveandlife: She used to go by a lot of nicknames in middle school so... Artisloveandlife: Did you know that her real name isn't even Elizabeta? Artisloveandlife: It's something like Erzebet??

Lutzie71: Erszebet. Lutzie71: I asked her.

Artisloveandlife: Elegant, are we?  *laughing and crying emoji* Artisloveandlife: But you call her Betty like Otto and Alice. That's so cute!

Lutzie71: Yeah... Lutzie71: The character Elizabeta was made after her. Lutzie71: She was pestering me too much about it.

Well, that's kind of cute.

Artisloveandlife: That sounds like Lizzie. Artisloveandlife: But why did you want to talk to me? Artisloveandlife: I don't think authors normally do that.

Lutzie71: Well, you painted that beautiful piece of art and I have been looking for someone to do a cover for it and the second book. Lutzie71: So I thought I might ask.

Feliciano almost flipped another table at that. There is going to be another book?! For real?! He was only stopped from flipping things by Lovino calling him angrily. Right as he was texting Ludwig at that.

Lutzie71: I apologize for asking such a private question, but you never told me your name?

Well, of course Feliciano would forget something like that.

Artisloveandlife: Feliciano. Artisloveandlife: Sorry, I forgot. Artisloveandlife: Call me Feli.

Feliciano made his way downstairs as quick as he possibly could, just to see what his brother wanted from him now. He noticed two brown heads instead of one.

"Hey Toni!" Feliciano said.

Both Lovino and Antonio turned to face Feliciano. Lovino's face was as if he just ate a whole lemon and Antonio looked slightly worried. "We need to talk." Lovino said simply.

Feliciano nodded, feeling his phone vibrate, but he couldn't respond right now. That would piss Lovino off. "What is it?" He asked.

Lovino sat on the couch, motioning for Antonio and Feliciano to sit as well. Feliciano chose to sit on the stairs, a gut feeling telling him something wasn't right. He wondered if Antonio and Lovino had a fight, but when Antonio sat down next to Lovino, wrapping him up like a blanket, he relaxed.

"You know how Nonno is coming home tomorrow?" Lovino asked, not looking at Feliciano.

"Yeah." Feliciano answered. "Will you two tell him?"

"That's why we're talking to you." Antonio responded, interrupting Lovino as he was about to open his mouth and respond. "Feli, I don't know if you know this, but coming out is a big thing. And it only becomes harder when your heart is already devoted to someone." He squeezed Lovino closer to himself. "If something goes wrong, it's not just you who gets hurt. They get hurt as well. And it takes a good amount of time to properly come out to someone, so-"

"Keep your mouth shut, Feli." Lovino interrupted.

Feliciano nodded, he wasn't planning on saying anything anyway, but now he was more scared than ever of what his brother would do if he even let a tiny bit of it slip. "Can I go back to my room now?" He asked.

"Do the dishes first." Lovino said with a smirk.

Feliciano groaned. "But I did them yesterday!"

"Well, Midget isn't here right now."

"You can do them once in a lifetime!"

"Can't. I have a guest and important business to attend to."

"Making out isn't a business!"

"Neither is art."

Feliciano gave up before it escalated into a fight. He checked Ludwig's message before turning up music to do his work.

Lutzie71: Feliciano has a nice tone to it. It means 'happy one', doesn't it?

It was nice to see that Feliciano wasn't the only person in the world obsessed with name meanings. At least now, he isn't alone.

Once Feliciano was finished with the dishes, he sneaked up to his room before Lovino could give him another task to accomplish. He really just wanted to text with Ludwig right now, a thought of a great friendship growing in his mind. He sat on his bed and responded.

Artisloveandlife: Yess! Artisloveandlife: You know your onomastics, I like you already!! Artisloveandlife: I look forward to working with you on the book!

Lutzie71: So you accept my offer?

Feliciano giggled. Cute.

Artisloveandlife: Yup! Artisloveandlife: On a condition that I get to read it before anyone else.

Lutzie71: You would have to fight my brother for that.

Artisloveandlife: Ahh I don't like to fight...  *sad face emoji* Artisloveandlife: I'll read it after him.

Lutzie71: I just asked him and he said you can read it first if you paint him a portrait of himself. Lutzie71: In a Prussian uniform from 1770s.

Artisloveandlife: Deal! Artisloveandlife: I have no idea what he looks like but I'll do my best!

Lutzie71: He looks like an idiot. Lutzie71: And he's passed out on the floor now.

Artisloveandlife: Is he alright?

Lutzie71: Yes, he just had too much alcohol. Lutzie71: He looks rather comfortable next to our dogs.

Feliciano gasped.

Artisloveandlife: You have dogs?!?!?! Artisloveandlife: Can I see them? Can I please see them? I love dogs!

Lutzie71: I suppose you can. Lutzie71: Let me just figure out how to send you a picture.

Feliciano waited, smiling to himself. It's been a while since he talked to someone online, he almost forgot how exciting it would feel. Moments later, he got his response.

It was a lovely picture of three dogs perfectly nested with a white haired man. They were all ranging in size and colour. Feliciano didn't know much about dog species so he chose not to assume what they were. Them being super cute was what won Feliciano over, as he was on the floor with his legs high in the air, smiling and making strange noises whales would probably understand.

Artisloveandlife: THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!! Artisloveandlife: THEY MUST BE SO FLUFFY!! LUCKY!! Artisloveandlife: Also is that your brother?

Lutzie71: Unfortunately yes. Lutzie71: They aren't really fluffy, but they are rather cuddly.

Artisloveandlife: If this was anime world youre brother would be dead.  *dead face emoji* Artisloveandlife: SO CUTEE!!

Lutzie71: Oddly enough, you are not the first person who made that comment. Lutzie71: Also, I apologize but I am not sorry for this. Lutzie71: Your*

Artisloveandlife: Ah, thanks. Artisloveandlife: English isn't my first language so I make mistakes. Artisloveandlife: Whats the difference anyway??

Lutzie71: Your is for showing possession. For example your brother, your sister, your car, ect. You're is a short form for you are like I'm is for I am. Examples are you're driving, you're cooking and so on.

Artisloveandlife: You explained that like a teacher.  *smile emoji*

Lutzie71: A lot of people get it wrong. It is a common mistake.

Artisloveandlife: Is that why you type them out every time instead of shortening them?

Lutzie71: You could say that. Lutzie71: In any case I must go, my brother would just continue sleeping on the floor if someone wasn't there to carry him. Lutzie71: Good night, Feliciano.

Artisloveandlife: Lol Artisloveandlife: Good night Ludwig. Artisloveandlife: Remind me to send you a picture of my lovely babies  *yellow heart emoji*

Lutzie71: I will.

For the first time that night, Feliciano looked at the time. It was almost 2 a.m. He had been so engrossed into his conversation with Ludwig, he hadn't even thought about how late it was. There was no way he could even fall asleep after all that.

Before he knew it, morning came and he hadn't slept for a second. Instead, he spent the entire night rereading his texts with Ludwig, still in utter disbelief that he's talking to an actual author he admires. Most of his favourite authors have been dead for the past 800 years. Serves you right for liking Dante so much, Feliciano.

He decided to make something to eat and relax nicely. Their grandfather was coming home today so that means there's tons of cleaning to do and no time to rest. He turned on the TV and decided to watch some cartoons.

"Feli." A voice called for him.

"Feli, it's noon. Wake up." Someone was calling.

"Wakey, wakey, little Feli~" A melodic voice was calling, demanding that he wakes up. Strange, he wasn't even-

Feliciano opened his eyes to messy brown hair and a smile. He fell asleep? When? It didn't matter right now anyway, since he was awake.

"Morning, Toni." He smiled.

Antonio messed up Feliciano's hair. "Good afternoon, Feli."

"Those jokes suck. Stop it." Feliciano joked, adjusting himself in a different position on the couch.

"Never!" Antonio sat next to him. "Lovi is asleep too and Meo escaped somewhere again. I guess it's up to us to fix this place for your grandpa."

Feliciano looked around. Sure, there was dust everywhere and probably a good amount of spiderwebs, but overall, the place was actually less of a mess than it could be. "It's fine like this. He'll only stay for a few days so it doesn't matter."

Antonio pinched his cheek. "It does matter. He's your grandpa. Now, are you going to help me clean or are you going to wake Lovi up, soldier?"

Feliciano didn't even give it a thought. "I'll help you clean!"

"Good!" Antonio smiled.

"But first, let me check my phone." Feliciano said, already reaching for it on the table in front of them. He had a notification from Tumblr.

Lutzie71: Good morning, Feliciano.

This was sent at 9 a.m. Feliciano admired Ludwig's skill to wake up so early after talking to each other till so late.

Artisloveandlife: And a late good morning to you too  *smile emoji*

Ludwig's response was almost instant.

Lutzie71: You are just like my brother, only you actually woke up.

Feliciano giggled, catching Antonio's attention. "Who is it? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?" He asked, a huge smirk stuck on his face.

Feliciano's ears grew red, his smile shaking. "Just a friend." He answered.

"That's how it always starts." Antonio commented before getting up to make himself some coffee.

Lutzie71: You told me to remind you to show me your babies. Lutzie71: I am very curious to see if they are comparable to my dogs. Which I doubt.

Artisloveandlife: Meanie Artisloveandlife: Let me find them first.

Feliciano got up and searched around the house for his "babies." They were actually two cats, a grey one and a white with brown spots one. Both were Feliciano's. He got them for his 20th birthday after 20 years of begging. He found them asleep in the 1st floor bathroom and, without much thinking, snapped a picture which he sent to Ludwig.

Lutzie71: I must admit their adorableness. Lutzie71: However, they aren't nowhere near my dogs.

Artisloveandlife: Big meanie. Artisloveandlife: Pookie and Gino are worthy of being the greatest cats in the universe Artisloveandlife: Even witches' cats are afraid of their power.

Lutzie71: They still can't compare to my dogs and their wisdom.

Artisloveandlife: Im beginning to suspect that your dogs wrote your book for you

Lutzie71: I will not reveal such secrets.

Artisloveandlife: So they did  *smiling and crying face emoji*

Lutzie71: Okay, jokes aside. We know Aster, Berlitz and Blackie are superior, but Lutzie71: I am curious about what you thought on the book. Lutzie71: My brother complained that it was too cringy.

Artisloveandlife: We never agreed to that tho Artisloveandlife: It was a bit cringy at some parts like those romance bits Artisloveandlife: Even tho I fangirled like there was no tomorrow because they were meant to be with each other Artisloveandlife: But overall it was a really good book Artisloveandlife: You were a bit immature in that field so it made me laugh a lot

Lutzie71: I guess it helped in getting my point across.

Artisloveandlife: Point?

Lutzie71: The innocent suffer in wars. Lutzie71: I wanted to write about the soldiers who have their families and lives which they had to leave behind in order to die for a cause irrelevant to them. Lutzie71: Because what we remember from them is always just a number. Not their lives or their deeds, just whether or not they make the number of deaths increase. Lutzie71: I wanted to point out that they are so much more than than. More than a number.

Artisloveandlife: That Artisloveandlife: That is really meaningful Artisloveandlife: But why did you choose The Thirty Years War? Artisloveandlife: Wouldnt it be easier to just use World War 1 or 2??

Lutzie71: Because, unlike them, The 30 Years War was a long time ago and people have mostly forgotten about it. Lutzie71: That's not the case for the World Wars. Lutzie71: They are still far too fresh in the world's memories. Lutzie71: There's also the fact that I am German which is why I felt wrong writing about the wars my country mostly started. The 30 Years War was a result of an unstable situation in Europe. Lutzie71: You could say that I was afraid of writing about the World Wars.

Artisloveandlife: This converstation took a turn for something really depressive

Lutzie71: Conversation*

Artisloveandlife: Sorry Artisloveandlife: My fingers slipped  *smile emoji*

"Feli! Are you helping me or not?" Antonio called for Feliciano, startling him a bit. He was still in the bathroom, on the floor and petting his two kitties as he read Ludwig's messages.

Artisloveandlife: Im gonna have to go now Artisloveandlife: My grandpa is coming home after a long trip and we have to clean the whole house Artisloveandlife: Which is a lot Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig  *winky face emoji*

Lutzie71: I have no idea what that means. Lutzie71: Good bye, Feliciano.

Feliciano raced to meet with Antonio for a spring clean up, not even noticing new messages from Ludwig. He was reluctant to clean the house now, eager to return to texting his friend, but he had to put some of his excitement into a good use. His Nonno was coming home and for the first time in a while, Feliciano had made a new friend. One that he intended to keep.

#GerIta #Germany x Italy #APH Germany #hetalia GerIta #hws germany #APH Italy #hws italy #hws gerita #aph GerIta #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars #hws #APH #APH Hungary #hws hungary #aph romano #hws romano #aph spain #hws seborga #hws spain #aph seborga #spamano #drawn together story

[swiftwind3]

Finally

lance-centric but yall already know lmaoo

So anyway, season 7 is about to destroy all our hopes and dreams and i'm not ready so here i am initiating my last line of defense

also no translations yall die like men lmfaoo --- Samuel Holt receives a much better welcoming committee compared to Shiro's. Granted, his ship didn't hurtle through the atmosphere and crash near a school campus. But after quickly gaining the attention of not just the Galaxy Garrison, but the entire world, Sam Holt eloquently explains the situation. Governments and countries fall into a panic. However, it's their space exploration garrisons that pull them together.

They need to reach their humans up there, provide aid and ready and brace their planet for the worst. Intergalactic Garrisons all over the world begin contacting each other, forming tight networks and rallying their forces. Better to be safe than sorry, even with all their preparations, the paladins of Voltron inform Earth of their victory and of their return. The Earth welcomes them back with relief. Their Lions land on designated pads at the Galaxy Garrison in the United States, their pads labeled by color for their convenience. But before they can even relish the sun and earth of their own planet, they're quickly ushered into one of the buildings and the paladins whisper about themselves. "What, no welcoming committee?" Lance cries out. "At least let me enjoy the sun for a minute..." "You would think we'd get some press coverage," Keith mutters. "At this Garrison?" Pidge scoffs. "Yeah, right." "Security here's tight," says Matt, shrugging. "I think we're lucky not to have been shot down in our own airspace." "Commander Holt told everyone we were coming, though." Shiro frowns. "Apologies for the seemingly cold welcome," interrupts an officer. "Earth is still in a state of...uneasiness regarding your return." Another adds, "The sensationalizing of the return of our heroes can wait, of course. Right now, we need to gather further information from you." "Further information?" Lance echoes. "For what?" "For the record," Shiro answers. "Most likely on the probability of a Galra invasion sometime in the future." "Well, that's zero, right?" "There are still Galra colonies looking forward to another Kral Zera, Lance." Says Keith. "We need to tell them that." With a defeated hum, Lance looks ahead of him. They pass a board with signs pointing to the different factions of the building. A shudders clambers down his back when they turn an all-too familiar corner. "Dude, they're taking us to admin!" He clings to Pidge's arm. "Do you think Iverson's still here?" "Man up, Lance. I doubt they're going to give us lifelong detention for saving the very universe we all live inーlet go!" Hanging on to Hunk instead, he pouts. "Is lifelong detention a real thing or is it lifelong as in high school-lifelong? Like, we just have detention for as long as we're in this school and graduateー" "I'm kidding," she smirks over her shoulder. "My dad should have already told the captains and everyone what's good." "Yeah," Hunk nods. "I don't think Mr. Holt's going to advocate for us getting punished, Lance." "True," he sighs. "Commander Holt was pretty cool. I mean, he’s your dad." "Both those things, he is." Matt smiles next to Pidge, crossing his arms. "Yeah, and while you're all worried about detention or whatever," Shiro snorts. "I'm here worrying for any charges I might get for breakout and inferred child kidnapping." They all exclaim. "What, noー" "ーShiro, come onー" "ーThey can't call it a breakoutー" "ーIt wasn't even kidnappingー" "ーThey cannotー" "ーOh, yeah, they canー" "ーKeith, if Shiro goes to jail, I'm blaming youー" "ーShiro's not going to jail!" Lance lets out an odd squeal, clinging off Hunk as he backs away. Keith's voice had snapped loudly, his eyes glowing a truly concerning shade of yellow. He points a shaking finger. "What kind of Galra nonsenseー" Pidge giggles while Matt hides behind her. "He even has fangs..." Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head with a smile. "Relax, Keith. It was a joke. I think Commander Holt wouldn't advocate for me going to prison either." "I'll let him have it if he has," Pidge responds immediately, locking herself around his waist protectively. "No one's taking my Space Dad to jail." Shiro grins, ruffling her hair. "Space Dad, huh." "So, you replaced Dad while you were up there, Kate?" Matt blinks. "Had to project on somebody, Matt. He was all I had!" Shiro snorts into his hand, sounding a little bit like he was crying. Keith scoffs, smiling. Their walk ends in a rather empty lounge. With a huge, floor to ceiling window, they stare at the activity across the arid land. Cadets and Garrison-issued golf carts, as Lance called them, run across the terrain, kicking up sand into the air. "The legendary admin lounge," Lance smirks as Hunk swoons and whines. "Ugh, I'm craving Earth food. I'd so raid their kitchen, but if Iversonーor anyone really, walks inー" He gulps. "I'd rather not." "I feel ya, bud, I'm starving, too. Man, but I also feel for Allura. She had to come all this way with us and leave her kind behindーby the way, where'd they take her, Coran, and Krolia to anyway?" "Some officers are registering them as foreign allies, I think? And she'll get to go back," Pidge shrugs, plopping down with a tablet on the couches. "It's just for a few days and we'll be doing, what? Press tours or something? Then, she'll be off on one of the Lions to try and find a planet for the last of the Alteans." "Oh, yay. Publicity events." Keith slides down next to her. "Hey, you don't get to complain," she pokes his knee with a sneer. "You were lucky to be with the Blades of Marmalade while Coran had us dance like monkeys for the Voltron Coalition. It's your turn to suffer with us." "Marmora," Keith pouts. "Marmalaaade!" Lance and Matt chortle. "She said Blades of Marmalade..." "It even rhymes!" "I think she'll be alright, Lance." Hunk interrupts. "She seemed pretty stoaked about getting to see Earth." "Was she really?" "I still am, actually." Allura enters the lounge with a large grin on her face, two children hanging off her armor. Krolia, Cosmo, and Coran follow her in. "Ahoy, number three!" Coran calls. "Or should I call you number four now? Well, anywho, you have company incoming!" Lance's heart drops. Then it soars as the children sprint in his direction, squealing. "¡Tíííooo!" "What the cheeseー" They knock the wind out of him, tackling him to the floor. Cosmo scampers after them, a herding instinct. "What," he gasps. "Are you guys doing here? Cosmoーquit slobbering!" The kids laugh, and it's then Lance sees the tears in their eyes. Even after two years, he recognizes the chubby, round faces of his niblings. The boy, with his large grin, still has teeth growing in. The girl has a couple of bandages on her face, her eyes bright behind a few stray locks of her even-longer dark hair. With a whistle, Cosmo joins Keith and Krolia on the couch. Its tail wags as they all give the space pooch a good rub. The boy whines. "Aw, I wanted to pet it moreー"

“Don’t worry,” Krolia smiles. “You can pet him all you want.”

“Really一ow!” "Caleb," the girl elbows him, hissing quickly. "Lance is right here, you can waitーHi, tío!" "Welcome back!" They grin hugely. "Caleb, Andrea," Lance chortles. "What are you guys doing here? How'd even leave the island?" Andrea opens her mouth eagerly, only to click it shut as their faces to contort with fear when a voice at the lounge door commands their attention. "Where is he?" A woman with a Garrison Administrator uniform asks, eyes on fire. The children jump away from him, the boy wincing comically. "¡Ay, ahí va a morir!" Lance gasps. "Tití?" "AdminitratorーSelena?" Shiro gapes slightly. "Good to see you again, Captain Shirogane." She salutes. "Do pardon my demeanor. I just clocked out. And I have a rather pressing personal matter to attend to." "You're the personal matter," the girl whispers in Lance's ear, poking his side before bolting back to a safer distance. He winces, giddy fear tickling his stomach. "¿Pero quéーtúーhacesー" He yelps as Selena manifests in front of him, taking a tight hold of his ear. "Montandote en una nave extraterrestre sin permiso oficial? Did you not read the cadet handbook I gave you? It says clearly, that you nor any other cadet are not to board any foreign ships without superior and or administrative clearance!" "I know, I know!" He wants to cry and he wants to laugh. Her no-nonsense countenance was still sharp and mounted with rectangular frames. But it looked as if age and something else had touched her usually bright skin, a few grey hairs streaking through that floating cloud bob of hers. Meanwhile, she was right. It really was in the handbook. He had read every single leaf of it, from cover to cover. Not like he was heading off to one of the most prestigious piloting schools in the world, it was nothing to worry about. Of course he read it. Not reading it felt like an act of sacrilege when she first gave it to him. That's why he read it all in one night. And reread it again three more times for good measure. "Oh, you knew? Pues, ¡no parece!" From a teary eye, he sees Shiro trying to wrangle a smile yanking at his lips and Lance had never felt more embarrassed. But he was happy about it. The children snicker a little bit more loudly, giving him dark smiles as he suffers. "Please let go, tití," he tries. "I'm sorryyy, I swear!" "You should be grateful," Selena humphed, crossing her arms. "I'm giving you a fraction of the physical lashing your mother can't give you. Yet." The kids giggle. "She's gonna kick your butt." Selena caresses his cheek, eyes assessing his face. With a nod of satisfaction, she turns away, taking in the rest of the faces in the room. "You must be Princess Allura," she greets expertly, readjusting her glasses. "It is an honor." "Please, no need for formalities." Allura smiles, joining their hands in a firm shake. "I apologize for my rudeness. Iーmy family has been waiting a long time since we saw his video and I'm just about out of patience." "You saw my video?" The skin on his ear is hot. "Everyone back home saw it!" The woman cups his face firmly. "Broke our hearts all over again. If you don't call your superiors next time, ay, Dios mío..." He laughs, teary-eyed and pulling her into an embrace. "He's a crybaby! It really is him!" The children join them, locking like monkeys around his legs. They barely reached his knees last time he saw them. His throat stings harder. "You owe me ten pesos, Caleb." Andrea smirks. He whines. "Acho, manooo..." "Wait, you guys made a bet to see if I lived?" Lance pouts, his voice cracking. "And to see if you weren't some chameleon alien?" She adds. "Yeah? There was no way you could have just died when you disappeared." "He could have been killed in, like, an explosion or something!" Caleb argues. "Did you even see how that Lion was moving? Only he could drive it like that." Lance splutters. "Wow, okay, rude. I risk my life, fight a war, help save the universe and this is the thanks I get?" "Uh..." He laughs again. "I'm justー" "Oigan, respeten." The command comes from Selena and the door. They look to see a young woman walk in. She's in a short, sporty dress, the white fabric speckled with dirt. She's tailed by two large men, one tall like Lance, fair skin still intact and the other, large and stocky like Hunk. A freezing joy thrashes in Lance's gut, and he almost really does burts into tears. "VeronicaーLuisーMarco!" He chokes. "The minute we heard you were coming back, they hashed me to let them come with me. Not everyone got a pass," Selena smiles tiredly. "Abu wouldn't have been able to hold the trip," says the taller man, giving Lance the playful smirk he had learned to mimic. "Neither would Elo, but we managed." "Luis," Lance sniffles. "Do I know you?" The man grins and picks him and Andrea up, knocking their heads together. "Come on, man!" He laughs. Andrea growls and squeals. "Paaa, nooo! Cut it out!" "Oh, so you prefer getting squeezed to death? Okay, then. Marco, you take them." Lance's stomach drops delightedly as his largest, eldest brother gathers him and poor Andrea in a bone-crushing hug, cackling loudly at his own display of strength. With a quick glance at his niece, they let their bodies slack, ragdoll mode activated. "We're dead," they wheeze. "Come on, Lance, I know you're stronger than that!" Marco cackles. "But it's not like I was concerned for you or anything," his wide shoulders shrug and he puts the two down. "I mean, you did survive a category five huracán by yourself." Luis chuckles. "Oh, yeah, he did." "Well, I wasn't really alone," Lance rasps with a smile. "You got stuck in the shed at the end of the fence, Marco." "Still, I consider a child without an adult within five feet alone. You were very much alone." "Wait wait wait, when was this?" Veronica frowns, skeptical. She crosses the lounge, picking up Caleb with ease. The boy starts to twirl her long, dark hair, enthralled. "Hurricane Cobalt," they chorus. "You were at a dig in Europe, remember?" Luis says. "Way out of the way." "Oh," her face relaxes before morphing into a scowl. She shrieks, "Wait, he was alone?" Lance grins while rolling his eyes. "Noー" "Yes!" Marco takes Lance's head in his large hands and nods it. "Yes, he was." He struggles to shake his head, voice muffled. "Nup. Vasn. Fe vas in de shed!" "Doesn't count," Marco lets him go, grinning. Veronica's eyes are wide and she presses her fingers to her forehead. "Ay, Dios mío, este nene solo..." "Veronica, I'm fiiine! It was years ago!" "Doesn't change the fact that these idiots left a toddler by himself during a category five hurricane!" "He wasn't a toddler," Luis mutters, pouting at his daughter. "He was like, six. But, like you said, Marco. He's got to be even stronger now. After fighting in a war and everything." "A war," Veronica looks distant as she shifts Caleb on to her shoulders. Her gaze pins Lance and he shrinks, giving her guilty-dog eyes. He would be lying if he wasn't scared out if his wits even more now. "Vero, I'mー" he takes a breath. And it's a good thing he does. Otherwise, she probably would have broken something after slamming him into the floor. Caleb cackles on her shoulders, pointing a finger. "I'm doing you a mercy, leoncito. If we don't something now, your grandchildren are going to feel la chancla in their DNA." He whimpers into the floor, smiling. "Sounds good." Pulling him to his feet, she brings him into a hug, lifting him off the floor. Caleb hugs his head. "You have no idea how much we missed you." "Tell me about it, please. I missed you guys, too, you know." He runs his hand through her hair, holding her tightly and blowing a raspberry into Caleb's chest. Setting him down, the kid goes into his arms and he nuzzles their faces together. "No, but we really missed you a lot, tío. After you left, we all got so sad." He pouts. "They're lucky they got clearance from the board to even be here after you said you were coming back," Selena looks distant. "Those words made life start running back through the house." "That house, Lance," Veronica gestures vaguely, shaking her head. "That house was an absolute, unemotional wasteland. For months after you left. Luis and Marco had to learn to cook for everyone, to replace Ma, Abu, and Ela." "Whatーreplace?" "Abu, Ela, and Nina wouldn't leave their rooms. Neither would Papa Tío or Elo. They stayed shut up for a long time." "They wouldn't smile, they wouldn't laugh. None of us did, really. For a reeeally long time." Caleb adds, going back to his mother. "I was afraid the grief would take them eventually, but they pulled through. It got really close, though." "Abu stayed in bed for almost a week after you left." Andrea says from atop of Luis's shoulders, drooping over his head. "Elo stayed next to her while Papa Tío and Nina missed work a lot of days. They almost got fired." "If it wasn't for us," Luis gestures to themselves. "I really think they might as well given into the grief of losing you." "You're that powerful, leoncito. It took all of us to try and fix the hole you left behind. But, I don't why we're all talking about what's in the past," Marco shakes his large head with a pout. "Are we going to call them or what?" "We are. They're expecting us. And we have time to kill while the officers decide who's doing what," Selena rolls her eyes. She shares a glance with Shiro and Matt, who smile pleasantly. She nods then, taking out a device. "Let's make it fast. So, let's try now." With excitement, Lance shakes off the guilt in his chest, throwing a sheepish smile to his team. They smile back with understanding, finally grasping a bit of the caliber of their teammate's homesickness. He really had a lot of people to get back to. When the transmission reaches its target, the face of a middle-aged woman greets them. Lance inhales sharply. Her hair touches her shoulders, a few lines of age engraved under her eyes. Her eyes widen and shine at the sight before her, her own small intake of breath echoing in his ears. He keeps his cries at bay, sniffling and giving her a smile. His voice is strangely quiet. "Hola, mami." The woman's hands fly over her mouth, muffling her own noises. She almost seems to choke on her words as she tries to speak, chuckles and whimpers wracking her shoulders. "Nina, say hello to your son." Selena smirks, ruffling his hair. "Hola, mi amor," her voice whispers. The view shifts away from her and the feed presents them with a view of a living room. The image of a large built woman sitting on a couch with three other people sends more tears down Lance's face. "Ela," The children call. "Papa Tío!" "Elo!" "Abu!" Their heads turns around and their eyes widen. The eldest man grins widely and he hoots, clapping. His wife wipes at the tears on her face with a shaking hand and the broad woman stands, swinging herself around. Her apron flows about as she sings and hoots, clapping her hands loudly. "¿Qué les dije? ¿Quéーlesーdiーjeee? ¿El Señor es?"  "¡Bueno!" They cheer. "¿El Señor es?" "¡Bueno!" "¡Así es! Alejandro!" She takes the shoulders of the man sitting next to her, his eyes bulging as she shakes his shoulder. "Say hello to your son, for God's sake!" "Papa Tío一Pa, it's him!" Andrea says. "It's really him!" "We checked!" Caleb grins. Chuckling, the man taps on her wrists and looks forward. "I don't doubt you for a second. ¿Cómo haz estado, mijo?" Lance nods weakly. "Bien. Bendición, pa." "Dios te bendice, hijo." "If that's not the truth," Ela laughs. "He's finally come back to us in one piece!" "Me imagino que nos extrañó," the elderly woman smiles, tucking her white hair back with a trembling hand. She sniffles. "Look at his face. Says everything." "He's still a crybaby, Abu," Andrea smirks. Lance pouts at her for a moment, wiping at his tears before putting a sad smile back on his face. "I really did miss you, though." "Like your father said," Abu smiles. "I don't doubt you for a second. ¿Y tú?" She puts a hand on her husband's. He stares at Lance with the wisdom he feared he wouldn't get to see again. "Get your butt back here, young man. I want to hear every single last part of whatever story you have for us. I've told you so many stories. It's your turn to tell us some." "Elo wants to hear a story?" Caleb gasps. "No way!" "Lance, you luckyー" Andrea's mouth is covered by Luis's hand. "Lengua," he rolls his eyes. "I'll一I’ll tell you so many stories when I get back. So many一I promise,” he wipes fast arm  over his face. “You're一you’re probably going to want to send me back up there. I'm going to talk your ears off!" "We sure hope so, hijo." Nina speaks again, joining the frame with several tissues in her hand. "I would have talked more, but I was too busy crying." "It's okay, ma." He grins. "It's really not," she sniffles. "But it will be, now that you're back. Try and hurry, alright?" He nods. "I'llーI'll be back," he gives them a smirk while his relatives scoff and roll their eyes. "Ridiculo," Selena mutters with the same smirk she had given him. They wave and chorus a goodbye as the feed shuts off, leaving them just a couple thousand miles apart again. But, at last, Lance heaved a wet sigh. A weight falls off his shoulders. He really had missed his family. Granted, they weren't all here, but he would reach them eventually, and then, he would hug them, too. For now, he focused on the ones here, right next to him. Excitement rushed through again. His old family would get to meet his new one. It looked like being apart from his old one, for what seemed like a while, paid off. He'd actually been blessed with an even larger one. And he couldn't wait to introduce them a little bit more properly. But, as he hugged his aunt, niece, nephew, sister, and brothers, the nerves, the fear and anxiety in his mind silenced themselves in the sigh he had let go. His mind quieted. Finally. The doors to the lounge opened. "Welcome back, Defenders of the Universe!"

#aaaaaaaaaaaa #my writing #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld lance #vld keith #vld krolia #vld coran #vld shiro #vld pidge #vld matt #galaxy garrison #does this count as langst #probably #langst #vld veronica #vld luis #vld marco #lance mcclain #voltron

[beneaththetangles]

Glory from the Gory, Grace in the Salacious, & the Controversial Lessons in Anime

Hello, everyone. In the spirit of the season of October and all of the spooky that comes with it, we have a somewhat appropriate topic for you. Its going to be a slightly different format than usual, but that’s because we wanted to try something new. We wanted to invite our readers, as best we are able, into a conversation that occurred amongst some of our staff members. Several months ago, in our Beneath the Tangles Staff Discord chat, someone made a passing comment about their simple inability to see value in the series Elfen Lied. Our very own Negative Primes was the next on the scene with quite a detailed and thoughtful defense of the series, one which I had never considered with regard to Elfen Lied but which sounded very much like my own apology for the series Berserk! And after I said as much to him, Negative Primes and I thought it might be interesting to do something like a group discussion with questions related to the overarching question of, “What are Christians to make of series with graphic, gory violence and/or  hyper-sexual content” or, put another way, “Is God glorified through series that contain hyper-violent and hyper-sexual content?”

What follows are some of the questions and responses from a conversation Negative Primes and I held with our fellow staff members: Emdaisy, thathilomgirl, and our fearless leader TWWK. We’ve tried to reproduce the conversation in a way that shows how we can agree as Christians in unity under Christ but still draw lines in different places because of our individual propensities toward sin and experience. We hope you find it an enjoyable read and a beneficial one as well.

This may seem like an odd first question given our topic, but I believe our shared Christian faith makes it the heart of the conversation we will have: What kind of book is the Bible?

Matthew G: I ask because, as people who spend a lot of time trying to connect anime to the Bible on a regular basis, we ultimately treat the two differently. All of us are entitled to our anime preferences. A person might like mystery, slice of life, battle shounen, and idol series, or only a few of those. However, as Christians who believe 2 Timothy 3:16 and that scripture is inerrant, we don’t get to pick and choose our preferred genres, books, chapters, and verses. Our theology can’t be limited to only what looks nice in cursive on inspirational Instagram posts. Is there anything wrong with being reminded that God has a plan for your life and that He is working all things for the good of those who love Him? No, and as Christians we should live our lives resting in that promise. However, Judges 11 and 19, which recount filicide, rape, and dismemberment, are also in the Bible. Not only that, but God tells us He is glorified by their presence there. It’s our responsibility to understand how and why that is. Does the existence of those Judges passages and various other verses like them in any way make it your “Christian duty” to watch Berserk!? To enjoy it? No. That’s not the point I’m making. However, we do need to recognize that the complex characters, the heinous violence and abuse, and the depravity that is on display in Berserk! Is painted in some of the same dark colors we see present in the Bible. That doesn’t make the Bible any less glorious or a cause for embarrassment. It makes God’s grace toward us and His providence all the more glorious, and, in so far as they reflect that glory and eternal truths inherent in it, any series from Berserk! to K-On! can be glorious.

TWWK: The point is well made—the Bible isn’t some sanitized book. It’s raw and real and authentic, and all of it points toward God and our relationship with Him. The passages you mention are extremely difficult and just a couple of famous examples among many that we can’t ignore. We’re meant to read these passages and get something from them, and maybe to struggle with them.

As we’re children, and likewise when we’re young in our faith, we often stick to passages that are “happier,” those that show us a God that’s easy to understand and love. And perhaps that’s best. But as we mature, we need to challenge ourselves to grow more deeply in our faith; part of how we accomplish is that is reading scripture as a whole instead of picking at passages here and there. There’s growth to be had here if we’re willing to open ourselves to it, if we’re willing to allow for discomfort, which is of course the feeling we often have when we’re experiencing our greatest growth.

thathilomgirl: My “objective, Sunday School” answer for this would be that the Bible is a collection of shorter books of varying genres and categories that connect with each other by/because of God and His promises. My personal experience of consistently reading the Bible for the past few years, on the other hand, has showed just how much it has to teach me despite learning about certain passages numerous times as a kid.

Matthew G: thathilomgirl, that’s the truth. I routinely have that same experience of rereading passages or hearing them preached and being shocked at how much depth I had simply glossed over because my brain made a habit of switching to autopilot whenever someone referenced them. I’d say experiences like that, while humbling, help train a critical eye and mind.

There are likely many people seeing the title of this article and wondering what exactly it is we are trying to accomplish with it. Some might see it and expect that we’re about to be extremely liberal with our answers to these questions, maybe even licentious. So, why do we be a little purposefully forward: WHAT exactly and WHOM are we aiming to encourage with this article?

Emdaisy: As far as WHAT we’re encouraging through this discussion… I’d say it’s just that – discussion. Healthy discussion. We’re encouraging those who, like some of us here, do watch and enjoy some series that may have some gore etc. Media is always, to some degree, some reflection of reality. So, brokenness in media is to be expected. Perhaps, like I often find with the darker shows I watch, we’re just intrigued to see how characters act and react while facing the darkness in their world. I find that a lot of the shows I enjoy despite the gore and/or other darker elements also hold some of my favorite lessons or reminders in anime. One of my all-time favorite shows is Tokyo Ghoul, in large part due to Kaneki. His character and the growth and change portrayed in him is something I LOVE discussing with others, particularly with respect to if he’s an accurate or inaccurate representation of a real human’s response to the events he faces. Also, these shows may be the only common ground that we as Christians may share with someone who is not saved. So discussion on these topics can be a great doorway to open up a discussion with others who hold different views, values, etc.

art by カピバラ (reprinted w/permission)

Matthew: I think it might be the person who feels that their conscience won’t allow them to watch certain shows but still feels the FOMO. I also think that our discussion — per Romans 14— is meant to confront those Christian fans who self-righteously sneer at a brother or sister for arguing there are any merits to an admittedly problematic series, or insisting that God is still glorified through it.

TWWK: I think you’re hitting the nail on the head, Matthew. Those two segments of our audience are particularly who we should be writing to. A lot of these audience members come from conservative congregations, many from evangelical churches that are quick to dismiss shows that show content that isn’t exactly family friendly and qualify them as glorifying sin. They might not be wrong, but the danger is that in that frame of mind, we can become Pharisaical and miss out on what God is revealing through these kinds of series.

To be clear, are we asking people to push themselves toward those limits where they might compromise their consciences?

NegativePrimes: It might seem that by encouraging someone to move toward what his or her conscience is uncomfortable with, we’re encouraging them to sin. And certainly Paul warns us both that our conscience can make a freedom sinful for us and that we should take care that our freedom not become a stumbling block for others’ consciences.

At the same time, the Acts of the Apostles depicts Peter going beyond what his conscience was comfortable with, and at God’s own command! The end result is that Peter entered the home of Cornelius and ate with him and his friends, and they received the Holy Spirit. So it’s possible for one’s conscience to be too restrictive or sensitive in cases where God is granting us freedom, just as it is possible for it to be insufficiently observant where He calls us to be. A mature spiritual guide is probably indispensable in navigating such situations in one’s own life, I’d think.

Matthew: I agree. I think that 1 Corinthians 6:12 and 10:23-33 are in effect here. All things are permissible for us in their proper context with an appropriate mind of gratefulness, but not everything is edifying for us. Some of us will struggle to see the finer philosophical point of a series for the blood that’s flying all over the place, or the overwhelming fan service, and so on and so forth. And you are not obligated to get over your weakness and eat what’s in front of you despite your conscience. But you are also not to shame the person who does and can watch those shows without sinning. I don’t throw these textual references around flippantly as though I’m handing out “get out of jail free” cards, and I hereby and preemptively rebuke any of you who try to say something along the lines of, “no you don’t understand. I’m not affected by hentai, so it’s okay.” But, there is, of course, a degree to which this is between you and the Holy Spirit in those moments when He elbows you in the ribs. And that’s what makes this a little less “hard and fast” and a little more “case by case.”

NegativePrimes: They should totally hand out Rebuke cards in Monopoly!—Anyway, simply saying “I’m not sinning” is also a pretty low bar in one sense. Is it possible to find something redemptive in a work that portrays something that is severely evil? Can we be the better for watching shows like this? I think it is possible, depending on an individual’s disposition and whether they reflect properly on what they’re viewing; but I’d like to hear what others think.

TWWK: In light of a desire not to put works above grace, I’m hesitant to make this comparison, but I’ll do it anyway: the ability to take a piece of media that would perhaps culturally be seen as “sinful” and to view it a work that might have the potential to actually help us love God more feels like a +1 in a person’s spiritual walk. I think it was that way for me, at least. There was a time when I was both a young Christian and in-too-deep otaku, and with less knowledge of God than I thought I had, I rejected many of my favorite anime series. In fact, I sold my collection of Evangelion DVDs to a friend, as well as my Serial Experiments Lain boxset, because I felt those series were dishonoring to God in how they reflected him.

As I grew in my faith, and eventually started this blog, I began to see media in a different way. Instead of condemning a piece that didn’t fit my Christian values, I stepped out of that box and looked at anime for what it is: creative works that I could find great spiritual value in, not because they perfectly reflect a Christian worldview (of course very anime few series are developed by Christians), but because I see the story of salvation all around me, even and particularly in media. It took me a while to get there, to step out of the black and white box and to see a fuller spectrum. But now, I’m right in it, maybe best reflected in the fact that all these years later, I’m going through Serial Experiments Lain again and blogging through episodically, finding rich value in that series.

Serial Experiments Lain

Emdaisy1: NO. Most definitely no. I would never encourage someone to watch something that may cause them to stumble. If they are aware of their own areas of temptation or the things that may cause them to trip up, then they’ll know what to avoid and what they can watch. My stance on things is rather the opposite: if you’re watching something, because it doesn’t make you stumble/fall, and you enjoy redeeming elements you have found in it, go ahead. If it’s not leading you into sin or tempting you to sin, I see no issue. Still do be cautious. We are, after all, told to “Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart”. If you do try a show that you think you’ll be fine with, but after maybe a few minutes or even a few episodes, find yourself facing temptations, then I encourage you to reflect on if you should really be continuing that show or not.

At what point do we know we’ve compromised our consciences with regard to a show?

thathilomgirl: When it gets to the point where I feel obligated to watch a show despite the constant internal debate of “should I really continue with this even with [X] in it?,” that’s how I know I’ve compromised my conscience. I may enjoy other parts of the show, but if they lead me to make excuses for that problematic element, I know that I’m just fooling myself.

TWWK: This is really tricky because are minds don’t work in a robotic sense of “yes” and “no,” one way or another. For instance, a thoughtful show that’s also full of fanservice might begin by engaging my mind with philosophical questions, but I may end up drifting from that toward sexual thoughts and pornography.

One reason I dropped Elfen Lied was that a specific scene in the series filled my mind with violent thoughts for days in a row. I didn’t like being absorbed by those images, or the idea that I found some pleasure in the gore. I felt that I was bringing in something that was harmful to my soul, something that was leading me to dwell on things that were not good. At that point, I was compromised. I could certainly see some folks feeling the same now when it comes to a show like Goblin Slayer, with its pervasive sexual violence.

Emdaisy1: This is a hard question to answer. I think this honestly varies by person. My experience is much like thathilomgirl’s in that I’ll find myself overthinking the media in order to try and “justify” it to myself. “Well, it does have ____ really GOOD element, so maybe that outweighs ____ bad element?” I’ll also find myself “negotiating” with God sometimes. “I know this show has some REALLY excessive violence that maybe goes too far… but I can use it to talk to (name) so we have a common ground so that’s good right?!” As soon as I start having to overthink it and justify to myself or even to God that it’s okay to watch, it’s a good sign I’m about to compromise, or already have. Also, for me personally, if I watch something that makes me uncomfortable I’ll actually feel a knot in my stomach. I legitimately feel queasy and that’s a good sign something’s not sitting right with me and I need to shut the game/show/movie off.

Your mention of that knot in your stomach is actually a good segway to asking, “what are your own criteria for deciding whether you will continue series like these?” Your criteria may be different than those of others, but they also might help someone with similar struggles.

Emdaisy1: While sometimes certain things fall outside this criteria, I do have a general rule-set I’ll apply for what I will/won’t consume. I have a very firm line on nudity and sex scenes in shows. Those are a no-go. I don’t typically have set criteria for things like swearing, violence, gore, etc. My filter/limit for those usually goes case-by-case. For example, while one show may have a lot of blood and gore in a war-type or zombie-style setting (think The Walking Dead) and may not bother me, another show may have a scene with a graphic depiction of a child or animal being ripped apart. That would usually upset me enough it’s a big fat NO from me. So for me my rule-set comes down to 1) is there a Biblical command about this, 2) how does this make me feel, and 3) how is this negative content being portrayed? As far as not watching something showing sex scenes on TV, I rule that out because I feel the Bible makes it clear sex is a PRIVATE act between husband and wife – so, I don’t believe I should be watching that as it means I’m intruding on something meant to be private. As far as how something makes me feel, sometimes you really do need to trust your gut. I may feel nothing over watching a terrible villain get brutally killed, but if it’s an innocent child, it bothers me. As far as how the content is portrayed… if a show is glorifying the negative elements as being good or positive qualities, it bothers me as it’s I don’t feel comfortable glorifying these things. If the show is full of darker elements because it is showing the consequences of said things (e.g. consequences of hate or violence, like Tokyo Ghoul shows) and the plot works to either warn about those negative things or promote positive elements as a form of redemption, that makes the darker elements less bothersome. In Tokyo Ghoul, the reason I don’t find the darkness of it bothersome is because the plot centers around the attempts of characters to reconcile things and bring about some form of redemption.

Have there been any times where you took the gamble that a show would prove worth the watch but then were let down when it just ended up being unfruitful? Are there any specific series that disappointed your expectations of making that redeeming point?

TWWK: I have a twitchy trigger finger, quick to stop series early in their runs, so I haven’t made it through to the end of a lot of series where I was on that it could be good / it’s not worth it line. But I can think of one—Oreimo. And it’s a series where I should have known better, because I’d read about the light novels and knew where the show was heading. And although the anime eased up a bit on the final conclusion of the series, the anime still went there. The first season, at least a good chunk of it, gave wonderful insights into what it meant be an otaku-in-hiding, but the series insistence on focusing on forbidden relationships covered the good stuff in the series. By the way, again, this should not have come as a surprise, but I convinced myself that maybe a “good ending,” and not in the way the characters would see it, was coming my way.

Emdaisy1: I find typically I’m okay giving up a series if it starts to bother me. However, in other cases, due to pressure from others or just my own curiosity I have carried on with some shows that definitely didn’t wind up being worth it.

It’s funny TWWK mentioned Oreimo, because that’s one that comes to my mind. I watched that show mainly due to pressure from a boyfriend to watch it with him. I did enjoy the funny elements of being a less outspoken otaku (at the time I was new to anime and wasn’t so vocal about it yet, haha), but the relationship between siblings became increasingly bothersome (leading to that knot in my stomach I noted before….). By the end of it I regretted watching it at all. One series that I enjoyed but didn’t have as much of a redemption as I’d hoped for was Shiki. While I found the show interesting if a bit disturbing/nightmarish at times, the ending didn’t live up to quite what I was hoping for. It ended on a rather depressing note and I felt it left too many loose ends unhandled.

Oreimo

Matthew: Oreimo really seems to have been problematic for you both, and for good reason. My example may seem strange, but I had more of a problem with the likes of Parasyte than I did with Berserk! and that’s because of the need for hope that we’ve mentioned already. The potential for Parasyte to become a redemptive series was enormous, but instead it ended with a morally ambiguous, “survival of the fittest” argument and tried to pass it off as intelligent depth. People often laud Fate/Zero as a nihilistic masterpiece, but I would argue that there is truckloads of more hope in the Fate series than there is in Parasyte. 

NegativePrimes, you spoke before in our Discord chat about the benefit of effectually hyper-extending a sin for the sake of making a point about that sin. Could you say more about that? Why might it be necessary?

NegativePrimes: Let me first explain why I think it’s important that sin be depicted in art at all. Emdaisy mentioned earlier how we live in a broken, fallen world. We can’t ignore this fact; we have to think about it, talk about it, and deal with it, and art is one way of doing so. But we also live in a world with hope, that has a Redeemer, and that fact should not be lost in the depiction of brokenness.

So it seems to me that it’s important for sin to be portrayed properly, accurately. There has to be a payoff that brings out the true nature of sin as ugly and wrong (even if it first appears desirable and good), and that provides some awareness of true hope as a contrast. At least, that’s what I look for.

One way of depicting sin correctly is to first show its appeal, and then how hollow it ultimately is. Another is to deconstruct sin’s appeal right from the get-go. Elfen Lied does this: First, it opens with a young woman, naked except for her face, brutally and bloodily slaughtering the soldiers who are trying to keep her contained. What would normally be considered sexual fanservice in this context gets inverted, because there’s nothing sexually appealing about the way we first meet Lucy; and what might normally appeal to fans of violence or gore becomes so heavy-handed, as the minutes drag by and the slaughter doesn’t let up, as to lose any appeal it might have had.

I honestly think it’s rather clever (and undoubtedly deliberate, for reasons too lengthy to go into here): The show takes the images we associate with titillation, both for sex and violence, and places them in a context where the viewer is forced to confront them in a serious and sober way. Further context later on, both as the plot develops and as it culminates in a self-sacrifice and Resurrection, serves to reinforce this interpretation.

Matthew: I really liked that metaphor of hyperextension because of the way it connects the intellectual/emotional to the biological. If you hyperextend at a joint through sports, lifting, or everyday use, your body is not so rigid as to completely disallow the flexion, but allows you to go just far enough to feel sharp pain so that hopefully you reconsider what you thought was healthy form and avoid that in the future. The same seems to be true here, where an artist or director purposefully takes something to an extreme to wake you up to what you’re watching, reassess where the lines of normalcy actually are, and what you’ll be willing to watch in the future. But because the conscience can be dulled by subtle abuse over time to where it doesn’t respond with pain signals like the body, some of us may be at a place where we need a series to come and dislocate our shoulder to get our attention. And I would absolutely agree that such artistic decision can walk a fine line when surrounded by shows that are simply provocative for sales or spectacle without a point, but that’s what makes the shows which use this purposeful hyperextension so important as material for contrast.

Do you believe that this “over-the-top” tactic actually affects a person’s long term perspective of violence or sexual content in the anime/manga they consume from that point forward? In my experience with the anime culture, overtly violent or sexual content can simply become fuel for memes that we joke about or hide our uncomfortability behind. Do you think these scenes can actually feed the desensitization that many people suggest is happening to those of us who are regularly consuming such media?

The specific examples which come to my mind are the infamous “chimera episode” in FMAB, the traumatizing “eclipse episode” in Berserk!, and the infamous death scene in Madoka. All of these have become something like rites of passage, signs of being in the anime know if you understand their reference and have, what is by now, the expected shudder at their mention.

Emdaisy1: YES! The brain is plastic and programmable. So, if you constantly train it one way, that way will become the new “normal”. If you constantly feed it a diet of over-the-top elements because you’re being gratified by them, sooner of later they will no longer feel over-the-top. Think of it like drug use – you always need more to hit the same high. You need a higher extreme before you feel the same hesitation you may have felt with something much less extreme prior. I honestly don’t even know of any of the examples noted as I’m not familiar with FMAB (yet), Madoka, or Berserk!, but I do think that some of these infamous moments become markers of sorts. “Well, I’ve seen a lot worse, so I guess it’s fine.”

Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood

thathilomgirl: This feels true from my experience as well, seeing that all those memes I encountered about that FMA “chimera episode” on Tumblr are more likely to make me laugh than be horrified now. On a more serious note, I feel that if my 13-year old self found out about the more violent shows I had seen since that age, she would definitely be shocked by it (then again, one would argue that having watched Rurouni Kenshin at age 5 would have been the true start of a possible slippery slope).

Was there ever a scene that seemed needlessly graphic but later, in light of the show’s arc and conclusion, you could see why the creator included it and how it fit into the story?

Emdaisy1: I guess one moment could be the disturbing scene in the Fairy Dance arc of SAO, where Oberon assaults Asuna in front of Kirito. That scene was incredibly cringey, and is definitely an example of enjoying the show *despite* that scene. I feel it could have been handled in better taste, but I do see that it was used to show Oberon’s true nature to an extreme.

thathilomgirl: I’m with Emdaisy1 on this as well, it really depends on the series and how it affects the story. With The Promised Neverland, for example, there is this one scene near the end of the very first chapter that would understandably drive a lot of people away from continuing it because of how disturbing it is. However, that scene was also very vital to the plot, as it reveals to the characters the true nature of the world around them, and also gives them the idea of escaping their current predicament. In my case, my enjoyment of this series comes from seeing these characters that I’ve grown very attached to achieve their goals so that none of them would hopefully ever go through what had happened in that first chapter.

Another example I can give is from Blood+. Among other examples that this series will later provide, the first 90 seconds consisted of the main character attacking both vampiric monster and innocent human villager in a frenzy during the Vietnam War. Looking back on that time like 12 years ago, the first time I got into the show was when I caught Episode 15 on TV, where the violence from Episode 1 has since toned down significantly at that point, but some character revelations had been dropped. The show is something I look back on with good memories, but I feel that if my first exposure to it was literally at Episode 1, I wouldn’t even think of continuing it further.

NegativePrimes: While I can’t think of a particular example (apart from thathilomgirl’s excellent example from The Promised Neverland), I think it’s entirely possible to find something to enjoy in a scene despite such things. That’s different from the Oberon assault scene, which could definitely have been left out without much loss to the story as a whole.

Matthew: My inspiration for the question was, as with most of these questions, a scene from Berserk! that is a notoriously brutal rape scene and the feeling it inspires is both horror at what is happening, shock at the fact that it is happening, and both of those things mixed with just a crushing weight of what the act actually means to the characters involved. And that’s only because of how great the storytelling was up to that point and afterward. I would not want to willfully subject myself to such a scene again, but without it the developments that follow wouldn’t be nearly as impactful. Which is to say, there was meaning to the creator’s use of the atrocity, and I think you guys made a good distinction between meaningful use and needless provocation with your examples.

Berserk!

So, to sum some of this up, it seems that there are a few recurring ideas affirmed by each of us. The degree and kind of sexual or violent content that each of us can reasonably bear without sinning is going to be different. But the element which empowers us to handle each our own limits of violence or sex is the presence or absence of hope. We accept the depiction of sin in art because we see it in reality. But in so far as a work of art fails to depict hope or—at the very least, through tragedy—the necessity of hope, it ceases to represent reality. We also realize that, while there may be hope that others can see and cogently defend in a given show, our own current weaknesses, brokenness, or immaturity in the offending elements of the show may mean that we simply take their word for it and choose not to engage the show ourselves. We should not try justifying the show to ourselves if our conscience kicks against it or our stomach knots because God takes our conscience very seriously, even declaring as sin the things which we cannot accept in faith and gratefulness. So let us be aware of our weaknesses and the weaknesses of our brothers or sisters, but let us also be grateful in all things.

As the watermark on the image says, our cover photo was provided by and published with the permission of the talented JaneVindom from her DeviantArt portfolio. Please check her out there or through Instagram @janevindoms_artstuff.

#Anime #Christianity #Violence #Gore #Sexuality #Articles #Berserk #Blood Plus #Elfen Lied #Shin Seiki Evangelion #Neon Genesis Evangelion #Hagane no Renkinjutsushi #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #Goblin Slayer #Ore no Imouto ga Konnani Kawaii Wake ga Nai #OreImo #Parasyte #Kiseijuu #Kiseijuu: Sei no Kakuritsu #Parasyte: the maxim #Rurouni Kenshin #Yakusoku no Neverland #The Promised Neverland #Serial Experiments Lain #Tokyo Ghoul #Author: Matthew G #Author: TWWK #Author: NegativePrimes #Author: EmDaisy1

[swanky-batman]

Letters to Thorin 1/2

Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (The Hobbit)

Warnings: probably crime, violence, some swearing and drinking

Y/N finds a way to communicate with the sometimes too rough Thorin. I hope you enjoy @notmyfault404 :D Part 2 will come soon!

Masterlist

Part 2

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

You knocked on the door, getting a husky, “Come in.”

“Thorin?” You ask, popping your head in, your breath catching.

“Who is asking?” He turned, a slight pout on his face as you saw the scar on his chest.

“I’m Y/N- we haven’t met face to face yet.”

“Y/N-” His eyebrows raised and his look softened. “You’ll have to excuse me… I can hardly believe you’re here.” He walked closer to you.

------5 months ago--------

You had received word from Gandalf that he was going to need help from everyone he trusted. He gave you a detailed account of things that had been going on and asked you for a list of tasks to help- and they weren’t easy.

He needed you to go and ask different groups to join in the fighting and help, as well as help Radagast.

You set off not twenty-four hours later and began on your journey. You had packed, making sure to include a pen and paper so your Raven, Jax, could deliver letters to the traveling party.

The first few with regular updates went to Gandalf and he did very little to respond to him- but then Thorin Oakenshield himself decided to answer.

Lady Y/N,

Please do not think me intrusive for directing letters to you myself now, but Gandalf seems preoccupied and with the assistance you are offering us I figured you could use an actual update on matters.

We are currently traveling now, having just had some dealings with orcs and Radagast the Brown. He seems like a strange fellow although he is attempting to be helpful I suppose.

We had run into some trolls who attempted to eat not only some of our horses- but two of our company and our master burglar. Luckily, no harm came to them, although I cannot say the same for the trolls. After searching and finding their cave, we came off with three new elvish forged weapons- much to my dismay.

Your raven seems very well trained, do you mind if I ask how you came about it?

This is our current report and I must say I probably chatted on for too long, forgive me.

Signed,

Thorin Oakenshield

You grinned at the letter, he seemed like much more fun to write to than Gandalf so you took out your pen and paper and started.

Lord Thorin,

I am pleased to find more than a quick line scratched in to let me know Gandalf and company are not dead. It would give me great pleasure in writing to you in future, if it suits you as well.

Trolls, eh? Not too shabby of a take-away although I have heard dwarvish forged is the way to go. Alas, I cannot ask for an unbiased opinion from you since you clearly are in possession of an Elvish weapon now.

Orcs can be a bit of a hassle but the one I am truly curious about is Radagast- I am set to meet him soon enough and am quite at a loss for how another wizard is going to be. Is he anything like Gandalf? How will I know when I’ve met him?

I thank you kindly on mine and Jax (my raven’s) behalf, he is a swell companion. He flies rather swiftly and prefers traveling rather than staying put so the more I give him to do, the better. I actually found him after a hunter was shooting an arrow in the woods and missed, damaging his wing. My legs moved for me and I was trying to take care of him at home before I knew what I had done. I tried to set him free after I helped him and he’ll leave for little spurts at a time but he always comes back to me.

I rather like that you’re chatty- seeing as you have 13 other traveling companions and I only have the letters Jax brings me and occasional people when I arrive in the places I am supposed to.

If you have time, I’d rather like to hear about your companions as well as yourself.

Signed,

Y/N Y/L/N

You nodded and the next morning before setting off, sent Jax off. You continued down your path to a group of waters that met, attempting to talk to the river-maids. You had actually never met one before in person and were curious to see if Gandalf had been misplaced in his ideas.

You breathed, attempting to follow through the instructions Gandalf gave you. You chanted, leaning over the water and placing your hand in it.

“Uhm- What are you doing?” A woman from across the water asked and you jumped.

You laughed, “You wouldn’t believe I was trying to summon River-maids, do you?”

She frowned, “What would you want with them, anyways?”

“Gandalf the Grey sent me.” Her eyes shifted and her jaw set.

“You… you are one, aren’t you?” You asked, looking her over. She looked very similar to a human- you talked with her and after a while, she brought you towards a group of them.

You talked with them, trying to convince them to help when the time came.

After another day with them, they said they would send some help. You received another letter as you waved to the woman in the cabin. You opened the letter at midday, interested to see what had happened.

Lady Y/N,

I must admit, I enjoyed the last letter you sent much more than the first- your tone seems to be renewed. It had given me a much needed laugh after my last letter as we were attacked yet again by Orcs.

Radagast sent us towards a passage and, aside from a defensive claim made by Gandalf, we ended up right on the border of Rivendell. With the elves, as if I didn’t have enough hanging off my belt to remind me of them. Everything here is glowing- literally. The city sparkles. Have you been to Rivendell?

Radagast will not be a problem to spot- he has to be one of the only human figures in that forest, set aside the fact he has animals running towards him all the time. Follow the animals, find Radagast.

I feel like I should get a treat or something for Jax every time he’s here- he seems to like me somewhat which makes me pleased.

Have you made progress on your tasks? I know Gandalf gave you a lot to do, I hope you are not feeling overwhelmed.

As for my companions and I, we are all quite… short. Most of us have beards, and we all like drinking. Fili and Kili are kin to me, but everyone else is like a brother. I’ve known them all for some time, except our Master thief, Bilbo Baggins the Hobbit. He seems alright as well, for someone who is not of our people. As for myself, I’m a dwarf- through and through.

It seems a bit silly now, saying all of this not knowing what kind you are from. I do not mean offense to other races, and am glad of the assistance of everyone. Would it be bold for me to ask where you are from? I do enjoy writing to you and have noticed my letter becoming increasingly longer.

I hope I am not boring you, this is the longest I’ve ever written I believe.

Looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Signed,

Thorin Oakenshield

A smile spread across your face multiple times throughout the letter- he was joking with you.

---

Another month passed and you had been chatting often with Thorin. You started another letter upon leaving Radagast.

Dear Thorin,

Your letters have been keeping me interested in the otherwise lonely trip over the last week. I have came into contact with no one since the last letter you sent. To be honest, rereading your letters has become a pastime of mine since there is little else I have of companionship.

It sounds strange to my ears that I could cherish a friendship formed in such a trying time with miles between us, but I do.

I realized I still have never answered your question as to what I am or what I look like- and I think at this point that you shall tell me no more of yourself physically and I will tell you nothing of me. I will meet you when we have finally recaptured what is yours and we will both be off guard. Does this sound sufficient to you?

Radagast is very… easy to spot. Could it be his sleigh that opened it up for no question? In a couple of days I shall be off again, making my way slightly closer to all of you. Where are you now? What has passed? You wrote very little in your last letter that I have been making assumptions and trying to examine what I do not see.

I hope I do not come off needy, and I will indeed write you again soon once I get on my way.

Waiting on your response.

Signed,

Y/N

You sent it out and got some things together, figuring out what to do.

In another day you received a letter back from Jax.

“That was quick, boy.” You offered him a treat to nibble on and he took it as you set out, trying to stop yourself from opening the letter at the news.

You moved on and to a smaller group of men that were supposed to aid Gandalf when he called for it. Midday, you decided finally to rest and pulled out the letter.

Lady Y/N,

I am glad to receive news from you, even after a difficulty befell us. I apologize for my last response as we did not have the time to stop for any longer- I hoped short news was better than no news to my favorite part of the days.

I confess I have also reread your letters and while I am not alone and surrounded by people, your letters are a great comfort to me.

I feel ashamed, however. You had been busy and I had not the time to write for a small amount of time and I fear I was snappy to one of our company, Master Baggins. In doing so, it led him away from us for a short amount of time and we had gotten captured in a weird underground lair.

We escaped, just barely, thanks to the assistance of Gandalf. We were backed up into a corner, fighting. And then something happened, something I did not expect- Bilbo Baggins from the Shire saved my life. We escaped on birds although I was slightly injured. Nothing serious, of course- one knows your imagination likes to run.

We can see it- Y/N. Our home, close enough to see it. I wish you could be here with us at the moment and I could point it out to you, it’s magnificent. In some ways it reminds me of you, parts of it are mysterious and dark with waves of beauty running through it.

This sounds silly, I know I cannot know all of this about you. I just feel a connection with you from my very core, which is strange for my kind.  There is so much I feel I can talk to you about, so much more than if you were here. Maybe it is because I cannot see your reaction, however much I wish for you fast response.

Please, tell me I am not the only one with these strong feelings- that you feel something deeper than friendship for me as well. Tell me I am not fooling myself.

I can hardly await your response, whatever it might be.

Signed,

Thorin

Your heartbeat quickened, your cheeks filling with a blush. You wished to write a response but did not know where to start. You decided to wait until a little later- you walked and got to the place you needed to go for a ride. You rode part way through the night and got where you needed to be, ordering a large drink and finishing it before writing your response.

Dearest Thorin,

My Thorin,

You rubbed your head, crumpling the paper and grabbing a new one.

Thorin,

Your latest letter has given me much to think about, you have had quite the adventure. I really do not know where to begin.

I am glad to hear you are not harmed severely or I would have to harm you myself. You promised me a meeting after you win your home back, if you do not forget.

I have had a fairly dull adventure compared to all of you- I’ve mostly been debating with people on helping or not. I wish to see your home and ride on an eagle- let alone see the arches you mock in Rivendell. Alas, I have seen rivers and plains and hills and small villages. And Radagast, but you had already seen him as well.

I feel a strong connection with you too, although I hadn’t dared to dream you felt the same way about me. Could this be real? Could a dwarf I have never met and who has never laid eyes on me feel for me as I do, him? I wish there were not still months ahead of us to be apart yet I wish never to stop this writing with you. I am among some people now but I wonder what a night in your company would hold.

I wish for an eagle to pick me up and fly me to you so that we may chat- but I know how important numbers are going to be in the final battle and know my duty and pledge.

The only thing I wish is that I do not disappoint you when we meet- I hope you have not gotten an idealistic view of me in your head to which I will not fit.

At least for this trip, if nothing more, we are bound. If you meet me and wish me to go, I will. For the remainder of this trip, I wish to remain tied to you Thorin Oakenshield.

Yours,

Y/N

Before your buzz on your third large beer could wear off you sent Jax off. A blush remained on your cheeks as you looked through his last letter again.

-----------

Permanent Tags:

@i-regret-this-already, @breezy1415, @seninjakitey, @imboredsueme, @courtneychicken, @marriedtopeterparker, @imeannooffensebabybut, @marie-lestowell, @cassiopeia-barrow, @daphne-fandom-writing, @notmyfault404, @i-larb-spooderman, @aussiearies

Tags and Requests are open! :)

#lord of the rings #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #fanfiction #Fandoms

[tysonrunningfox]

Open Flames: Part 7

I did that thing where I existed in my own head about this too long and convinced myself it was awful but then I went and reread it and I’m like, this is fluff with a dash of angst and a splash of funny and Stoick, the thirteen year old brat, and no one else knows what a brat he is so this is fun fuck it.  I outlined and the next chapter is half “shenanigans”.  There are multiple places where I just have to make “shenanigans”.  Don’t let me take myself so seriously, it’s lame and it makes me act lame.  

Masterpost 

When I wake up, Fuse is gone.  I panic, all the emotional rush I was too tired to feel earlier coursing through my veins as I pat across the blankets and fall off of my bed onto the floor.  

“What was that?”  Fuse’s voice carries up the stairs and she’s here and ok and I relax with a groan, rubbing my shoulder where it hit the wooden floorboards first. 

“Eret fell out of bed,” Stoick shouts downstairs as he appears in the doorway and I blink at his silhouette.  Someone opened the door at some point.  Probably the chief.  That’s probably what woke Fuse up.  

She needs her sleep and the injustice of the chief taking that away because of some stupid rule makes me instantly, hotly angrier than I have been in a while.  Because Gods, Fuse is pregnant. It’s my baby.  She said she needed sleep and someone got in the way of that and I sit up, glaring in the general direction of the stairs.  

“Is he ok?”  Fuse asks and Stoick shrugs.  

“Is he ever?”  

“Hilarious,” I stand up, stretching my neck and shouldering him out of the doorway when he doesn’t move in time.  

“Oh, you wanna go?”  His fists hit my arm in a couple of featherweight punches that I ignore and he runs down ahead of me with a laugh, skidding into the chair beside Fuse and leaning his elbow on her shoulder.  “Too slow.”  

“How long have you been up?”  I kiss the top of Fuse’s head, batting Stoick’s arm away from her shoulder and glaring at him.  It hits me that he’s going to be an uncle, an actually related uncle and I stack that onto the feelings I don’t have time to make sense of right now.  

His Stormcutter trills at me from its roost in front of the fireplace, cocking its owlish head like it’s daring me to touch him again.  And I spent years thinking Toothless was entitled.  

“Not long.”  She looks a little better, some of her usual color back in her cheeks.  I feel like I’ve spent the last four years worried about everyone and everything and it all pales in comparison to the strange protective guilt I feel now.  I did this to her.  She’s pregnant and it’s mine and her nausea is just the first thing I can’t protect them from.  

“Do you need more tea?”  Stoick asks, too chipper, like he always is around Fuse and what’s normally kind of funny is suddenly aggravating.  

“Sure,” she goes to hand her empty mug to him and I reach for it.  

“I’ll get it for you, really.”  

“She asked me,” Stoick snatches it, sticking his tongue out at me and darting over to the fire.  I take his seat, scooting closer to her and putting my arm over her shoulders.  

“I’ll get you tea,” I insist as she leans her head against my chest with a sigh.  

“I wanted him to give you the chair,” she whispers and I snort, fiddling with the end of a tangled braid.  

“I want him to go away.”  I pull her closer to me when Stoick sets the new cup of tea in front of her and lingers for a moment, like he’s expecting praise, or something.  

“Thanks,” Fuse picks up the mug, her elbow digging into my thigh as she leans on me harder.  

“Do you need something else?”  I ask Stoick, shifting so that Fuse’s pointy elbow is gouging into a new and not yet painful part of my leg.  

“Dad caught you with your door shut,” he raises an eyebrow, pointedly scratching his chin where he insisted he found a hair last month.  

“Ok.”  

“It’s kind of funny how that’s only a rule for you,” he looks at Fuse, “it’s only a rule for him, you know--”

“No one thinks you need that rule,” Fuse cuts him off, “thanks for the tea.”  

It’s the kind of blunt dismissal only Fuse can pull off without sounding mean and I stifle my laugh in her hair, only looking up when the front door opens and the chief walks inside as Stoick slips out with his dragon, thank the Gods.  The chief looks at me knowingly, like he also thinks I’m supposed to care that he caught Fuse and I sleeping behind a closed door.  I don’t worry about him reading my mind the way I do Mom, but the secret still rises to the front of my mind.  

Fuse is pregnant.  The chief is going to freak out.  I’m still waiting to freak out.  I almost want to tell him to watch him freak out.  I bet his eyes are going to bug out of his head.  

“Good...mid-afternoon,” the chief finally seems to get that I don’t care that he caught me and Fuse sleeping, even if he doesn’t get that I have bigger things to care about.  “How’s the rebuild going?”  

“More of a build at this point.”  I shrug and Fuse sits up, leaning her elbows over the table and sniffing at her tea.  I know it’s more polite but I miss her weight against me and I also don’t care about being polite to people who don’t let Fuse and I sleep without inviting Stoick’s assistance.  “It’s going fine, Ingrid gained the trust of a couple locals so I think I can trust it not to fall apart for a couple of weeks.”  

Gods, how could I leave?  

That thought smacks me like a war hammer at exactly at the wrong time, while I’m trying to look normal and talk to the chief.  Fuse already had to put this together while alone, she already had to figure out how to tell me.  It hits me that she had something half scripted because she was nervous, like talking to me had become such a phenomenon she had to plan for it, and I want to tell someone else, anyone else to take things over.  

“That’s good news,” he grins, “I could use your help shoring Berk up.  We had some spring flooding over on the East bay and dealing with it has been a pain.”

“It has,” Fuse agrees, sipping slowly from her mug, “I’ve been trying to help with a secondary dam but it’s slow.”  

“And while that’s taking both our time, everything else is stumbling along without much supervision.”  The chief smiles at Fuse.  They’ve made peace, I guess, and I’m glad, given the circumstances, especially because I’m remembering that I look like him when I smile and as much as I like to ignore it, he’s my actual father.  

And even though I’ve come to respect and even like him as a chief when he’s not trying to marry me off, I wouldn’t say I’ve largely benefitted from his attempts at parenting considering they involved trying to marry me off.  

There it is, the start of a freak out, at least now I know I’m not suddenly stable or anything like that.  

“Aurelia is doing her best,” Fuse says a little defensively, like she’s not as cheery with the chief as he seems to be with her, “but she’s been spending a lot of time trying to track down anything about those trappers by going through the last few months of communication.”  

“Yeah.”  My voice cracks and Fuse frowns at me.  

Oh Gods, it’s already happening, Fuse is the one pregnant and she’s looking at me like she’s worried about me and I’m going to have to leave in a couple of weeks and if she marries me, it’s all about heirs.  Or it would be if the chief ever actually handed over the title.  Fuse has to know that, she thinks of everything, but I’m just stumbling through the concept now.  I can’t breathe.  I rub my chest with my knuckles, pushing hard enough that my bruise throbs and my lungs remember what they’re supposed to be doing.  

“Ouch, what happened there?”  The chief asks, as if it matters, as if I’m not already making everything about me.  

“Smitelout,” Fuse frowns and I squeeze her shoulder.  

“No, it’s--I’m fine, chief.  I’ll check in with Aurelia and get up to speed.  And Fuse, don’t worry about helping him with the East Bay situation, I’m on it.”  

“I can help,” she insists and it makes her look more tired.  I kiss her on the forehead and stand up.  

“You shouldn’t have to.  I’m on it, ok?”

“Eret,” she huffs and eyebrows a straight, frustrated line as she stands up, “I said I’ve got it.”  

“Ok,” I back up, gesturing between her and the chief, “just let me know if you need help--”

“I will,” she looks at the bruise on my chest again and I wish I’d paused to put my shirt back on, it just feels like another way I’m drawing attention when I shouldn’t be.  

“We’ve got it,” the chief tries to comfort me with a grin I can see straight through.  He’s assessing me like he’s been doing a lot lately and I can’t tell if he’s seeing something he doesn’t like or missing something he wishes he were seeing.  I don’t know what else I could possibly do, but obviously, what I’m doing isn’t right or enough.  

“If you need anything--”

“I get that,” he cuts me off, “but I bet Fuse and I can handle it.”  

“I could handle it--”

“I know you could handle it, Eret,” the chief sighs, “and I know I messed up with the whole betrothal thing, but you can’t keep being everything to everyone all the time.  Trust me, you just end up missing out and not on the things you want to miss out on.”  

Fuse blanches at the mention of a betrothal and I’m worried she’s going to throw up.  I hate to say it, but the chief is right, I’m already missing out.  Fuse had to learn she was pregnant without me here, she had to talk to Rolf.  I haven’t even apologized for that yet.  I can’t imagine the dual nausea of talking to Rolf while pregnant.    

The chief is staring at me like he expects an answer and Fuse looks worried, because I’m still making her worry about me instead of the other way around.  

“Ok.”  

“Ok, you’ll relax a bit?”  

I barely bite back asking the chief why he hasn’t crowned me yet and if his reason really is that I’m doing too much and not relaxing enough.  

“I’ll go talk to Aurelia,” I get out instead, turning to focus on Fuse because the idea of walking away from her right now is physically painful.  “If--I mean, you’re good, right?”  

“She’s fine,” the chief rolls his eyes, “you’re going to worry yourself gray at this rate.”  

“Like father like son,” I mumble and the chief’s eyes light up, happy at the comparison.  We’ll see about that, chief, considering Fuse is already frustrated with me and it’s still day one.  

00000

“Can I have this wood?” Arvid asks me at the woodpile, one morning when I’ve been home about a week.  He has Wingspark loaded up with an unusually large stack of long, straight logs, their bark removed.

“Why?”  

“Because I need it for a project,” he shrugs, “Mom wants to build a house.”  

“Again, why?”  

He shrugs again, staring at me unblinking but bored and I look at the woodpile behind me, full despite how much he took.  I guess our loggers were a little overzealous in replacing what we took to rebuild Elva’s island with.  

“Fuck it, sure, just write it down, alright?”  

“No problem,” he clicks at Wingspark and she lumbers along after him, pausing to sniff at my hand for a treat.  I don’t have anything but I scratch behind her horn, looking thoughtfully after Arvid for a second.  

I expected lying to be harder.  I expected everyone to be asking after us all the time.  But in reality, aside from the quiet and increasing desperation I have to check on Fuse every morning, nothing outwardly looks much different.  

Yet.  

I want to ask when that’s going to change, because in a lot of ways that’s a deadline for figuring out how to tell people or what to tell people, but I don’t think it’s necessarily something Fuse wants to talk about.  She doesn’t seem to want to talk at all, actually, I think it would get in the way of her nap-on-me time, which has really seemed to take priority. Between that and my convince-Fuse-to-eat-something routine, we haven’t had time or privacy for anything else.

And I know I shouldn’t push her, because she’s the one dealing with more of this than I am, and I know she wants to keep it a secret just like I do, but not talking about it is killing me.  And if I were going to tell someone, which I’m not, because Fuse doesn’t want to, Arvid would be very close to the top of that theoretical list, if not at the very top of it. It’s a tie between him and Aurelia, honestly.  Maybe my dad is up there too, although I think he’s bound by some parental contract to tell Mom, and she’s the bottom of the list.  

Only because of the way she’d look at me though, all disappointed and reserved, like she’s waiting for me to finish acting before she decides how pissed she is.  I wish I had her advice right now. I wish I had anyone’s advice.  

“Why does Mom want to build a house?”  I call after Arvid, fighting every urge to run and catch up with him while my to do list for the day weighs me down where I stand.  

“Ask her,” he shrugs again, “I just said I’d help, I’ve been getting enough practice at it.”

I have a sneaking suspicion that he knows more than he’s letting on, which honestly became a given ever since he married Aurelia and spends all his time absorbing the information she radiates like a Nightmare  putting out warmth, but I don’t have time or energy to investigate it right now.  Especially now that he reminded me of all the houses being built on Elva’s island and the fact that I’m supposed to go back there in a week.  

It’s a thought I manage to shake until I’m home and surrounded by papers on my bed and Fuse appears in the doorway.  

“Hey!”  I stack all of letters riddled with Aurelia’s notes and shove them to the side, giving Fuse a place to sit.  “What’s up?  

“Stoick let me in,” she explains, pointing down the stairs with her thumb and lingering in the doorway, “are you busy?”  

“Not that busy,” I pat my bed, “how are you?”  

She deliberates for a second before shutting the door behind her and sitting down beside me, “fine.”  

“Fine?”  I laugh, my hand rubbing her lower back through the smooth leather of her vest, “not nauseous?  That’s great!”

“I was nauseous earlier,” she puts down the letter, “but it passed and now I feel alright.  How about you?”  

“I’m not nauseous--wait, that’s not what you’re asking.”  I wipe my forehead, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m--mmph.”  

She cuts me off with a kiss, lingering like she hasn’t been, her hand cupping my jaw and sliding down to my shoulder.  It’s the kind of kiss that makes the closed door compete with the idea of Stoick being downstairs and when Fuse’s tongue slips briefly into my mouth, the door starts winning.  Fuse knows me too well because she pulls back with a tired smile and glances at my stack of papers.  

“You sound preoccupied,” she gestures at my pillow, “I was just hoping to get a nap, I don’t mind if you’re working.”  

“Maybe I mind if I’m working.”  I raise an eyebrow at her and Stoick yells something downstairs, taking some hard earned ground back from the closed door in their eternal argument.  The chief’s muffled voice answers him and I hear Mom laugh and sigh.  Nevermind.  Plus, Fuse really does look tired, so I pick up the top letter in the stack.  “Go ahead and sleep, I’ll do my best to keep the door shut.”  

“It’s not your fault if you can’t.”  She lays down behind me, fidgeting to get comfortable, and I jump at her cold fingertips against my back, under my shirt.  She traces the edge of the scar on my hip and over the bumps of my lower spine and her breathing slows like she’s drifting off.  “I never answered your question the other day.”  

“Which question?”  I trace over a suspicious line of runes, an offer to deliver something to an island I’ve never heard of before but phrased in a way that makes it sound close.  

“You asked how I felt about the concept of us having a baby.”  

“Yeah?” I perk up, reminding myself that just because it took Fuse longer to get here than me doesn’t mean it’s going to be bad.  “I mean, you answered, you said you felt nauseous, which is fair--”

“I’m happy about it too.”  She yawns, cuddling closer, her knees curling around my hip.  “Also I’m nervous and really want to stop throwing up soon, but I’m kind of excited.”  

I grin, looking back over my shoulder at her.  Her eyes are shut and her hair is draped across most of my pillow, tangled and smudged in something blue and shiny.  It feels less selfish to be happy now that I know she is too and that excited voice in the back of my head reminds me of the prospect of having two of her around.  I can hope, at least, I can’t imagine that even Fuse would want another Eret.  There’s a surplus already.  

“I love you.”  

“Love you too,” she mumbles, snuggling closer and pressing her face into the pillow to block the light.  

Fuse’s quiet snores make it easier to focus on reading and I get through the short stack of letters that Aurelia thinks are important more quickly than I expect to.  It’s not great news.  It sounds like whatever trappers that are left on Elva’s island are looking for allies or markets to sell in, I’m not really sure which. That means I need to get back out there and see what might have turned up in a week without much management.  They’ve had a chance to get bold, maybe they’re willing to do or say something else stupid.  

A particularly loud snore puffs against my back and I look back at Fuse.  She looks pretty when she sleeps. Well, she always looks pretty, but it’s daintier when her face is relaxed and her usual aura of chaos and determination is turned down a notch.  

She got in the habit of sleeping by me when we were off Berk a lot, dealing with trappers.  She’s never said it directly, but I think it’s a carryover from the whole volcano incident, because in the months after that she couldn’t sleep unless I would be there when she woke up.  And she just told me she’s nervous about being pregnant and I’m about to leave to somewhere she can’t follow to deal with a dangerous situation that she doesn’t like.  

But I don’t know what else to do, I can’t just drop this situation on someone else, it has to be me.  It’s important. It’s my big piece of proof that I can solve things peacefully and maybe the chief will finally see that I’m ready and--

“Dad told me to open your door,” Stoick flings the door open and it smacks against the wall.  Fuse wakes up with a jolt, scrambling for my hand, and I don’t think before throwing the first thing in my reach at the grinning brat in the hallway.  

It happens to be my boot and it collides with his face with a satisfying thump.  

“Dad!  Eret threw his shoe at me!”  

“Get out.”  I stand up and grab the edge of my door with a white knuckled grip, “I mean it, move or this is going to slam into your face.”  

Stoick rolls his eyes and I flex my arm, making a show of just how fast I’m going to slam the door.  I’m not actually, because I know full well that the chief would do something dramatic and irritating like take it off its hinges entirely, but it’s still fun to see Stoick scramble backwards, eyes wide.  

“Fine, but…” He looks around for a way to retaliate, “I’m going to steal your shoe.  Finders keepers.”  He picks up my boot and waves it at me.  

“Whatever,” I shut the door and lean my forehead against it as he runs downstairs.  “Maybe I should come work at your house for a while.”  

“I wish.”  Fuse is adorable when she’s grumpy and half awake, frowning with her arms crossed.  “I’ve got some stuff to get done, I’m almost out of mining charges.”  She leans into my chest when I turn to face her, requesting a hug and pressing her sleep warm face into my shirt.  “I just couldn’t focus earlier, I should be good now.”  

“Are you sure?”  

“Yeah,” she backs away and reluctantly turns the doorknob, “I’ve got to get this done if you’re going to get any iron out of that other island anytime soon.”  

“You don’t have to help with that.”  

“I know I don’t,” she scowls and I can tell she’s frustrated mostly with the situation but probably at least partially with me, “but if I do, you’ll be done sooner and we’ll have one less thing to worry about.”  

“True.”  Maybe I’ll even be chief by then and I can just...decree something.  I don’t even know what.  

“Ok,” she steels herself, leaning up to kiss me briefly before opening the door the rest of the way.  “I’ll see you later.”  

“I’ll walk you out.”  I follow her down the stairs and to the front door, glaring at Stoick on the way as he feeds his dragon a fish out of my boot.  

As soon as Fuse is gone, the chief clears his throat, looking up from fixing his saddle and raising one graying eyebrow at me.  

“You know, if you didn’t live here anymore…”  

“Right, because that’s easier than telling Stoick to stop being obnoxious.”  

“I hadn’t thought to compare the two,” the chief nods, thinking to himself, “but I think you’re right.  Getting you married and out of the house is slightly easier than telling Stoick to be less obnoxious.”

I laugh at that and the chief looks equally tired and pleased with himself, glancing in Stoick’s direction like he’s surveying a threat.  I wasn’t that bad at thirteen, there’s no way, I don’t think Mom would have let me live.  

“I am the stubborn sibling,” Stoick shrugs, “do you want your boot back?”  He holds it out towards me, fish scales visible on the fur lining, and I wrinkle my nose.  

“I think I’m good.”  

#open flames #eret iii #festerverse #feret #fuse thorston #stoick ii #arvid hofferson #hiccup let the kids sleep you monster

[quixiiliveblogs]

Article: Two Black Raincoats & Forum Thread Let’s get to the examples.  Four youths tried to get superpowers by working off of the ‘trigger’ theory of power gain, and became a newsworthy case in 2004. 

Okay, so we’re going way back. (I got excited when I read about them trying to get powers, hoping it would confirm/deny people getting powers now. But no, back in 2004.) I’m so not surprised that people or groups like this exist(ed) but it sounds like an awful way to get powers.

The event got out of hand, one boy and one girl took charge and preyed on the two younger members of the group, torturing them over the course of a weekend. 

Oof, yeah. See: “awful way to get powers.” One with many problems.

Nobody gained powers, 

Oh no! Not too surprising, since I feel like it’s super hard to force trigger events. I just keep thinking of the scene in which the Merchants were trying to do this on a bigger scale - getting people to have powers either by the trauma of the fight or with the vials, and poor Scrub triggered. Like, it worked for him, but that match went from 80 people to ~5, and nobody else triggered. A couple kids doing 2 v. 2 trying to get powers sounds extra unlikely to actually work.

the search for the missing children led to the two older children being identified as they went into town on the Monday to get food and buy power tools, including a circular saw. 

D: I hope we don’t find out what they were planning with that circular saw.

They revealed the location of their victims; one of whom apparently lost fingers as the wire that was used to attach them to the toilet tank was too tight. 

At that point, were you even trying to get anyone to trigger, or were you just having sadistic fun because you felt like you had permission? Poor kid.

Unnamed Boy was sent to juvie.  Unnamed Girl was sent to psychiatric care.  Both gained powers while in care, both were released in or around 2009. 

Huh. I guess being locked up was more likely to cause powers for these two. Interesting. Also interesting that they went to separate places. Was that based on what they individually did, early 2000s sexism, random whim?

Reuniting, now with powers, they killed three people, wearing black raincoats to keep the blood off, and were not caught. 

Wow. Five years locked up and they came out worse than before. Of course, we’re missing a lot of details here. The result was killing three people - was that the intention? For all we know, it was self defense, or in defense of someone else, or a total accident. Or maybe they were just murderers.

They have been spotted in several locations at the Rochester span, wearing the black raincoats.

If they’re still wearing black raincoats, that implies that they’re not some of the ones trying to become heroes, I feel like. Wonder what they’re up to.

“For the time being, the amnesty applies,” Chief Armstrong stated to the media.  “We know where they are and we’re keeping tabs.”

Good enough?

Okay, I feel like we’re referring to a specific amnesty policy that’s been mentioned. Lemme go look..

Okay, here. Miss Militia said: “There’s an amnesty. ... There’s a deal.  Everyone gets a second chance.  We don’t have a problem with anyone, until they do something wrong.” Okay. Then this sort of thing should apply to everyone, even kids who are/were fucked up killers. I guess this goes along with what i was saying earlier - if a villain ever wanted the opportunity to change, now is the perfect time. I don’t know if it’s “good enough,” but it sounds like anything further would be a violation of the amnesty.

Something feels weird about “Chief” Armstrong. xP

Also, while I was trying to find that, I saw stuff about triggers post-Golden Morning. “The power destroyed the host.  That’s number two on the list of things that aren’t supposed to happen. ... This makes four.  Almost a fifth of the regular triggers we’ve heard of.  Two in three days.  One’s still loose, the others died or destroyed themselves.” So, triggers can still happen (or at least could pretty immediately post-Golden Morning) but tend to go wrong disastrously. It remains to be seen whether that’s still going on now, >2 years later.

Also, I feel I should apologize. Some of my theorizing/questions I guess were answered in the end of Worm, and I’d forgotten. I should probably reread Worm’s epilogue before I liveblog the next Glow-Worm section, so I make less mistakes like that. I’ll finish this section first, though.

#Quixii liveblogs #gwp3 #ph2 #Worm Teneral e.4

[kitashiwrites]

I'm sorry my post was really aggressive. I still stand by my point that it ISN'T fair to dismiss Mor's romantic feelings (or lack thereof) towards Az, but how I acted was really awful. You don't have to post this publicly, but I hope you know I'm very sorry. My intention wasn't to try to start drama, but just receive an explanation over WHY you still ship Moriel. My way of going about it was TERRIBLE. I know sorry is just a word, but I'M SORRY.

2/2 I didn’t send you three asks. I only sent you one? Just to clear that up.3/3 I also didn’t send more than one ask. :/ 

Okay Anon. While I find it extremely hard to believe because of the timing (especially because for as long as I have been on here, I have RARELY gotten asks, let alone 3 in such quick succession that are so similar), as well as the fact that you clearly don’t stand behind your words because you felt the need to do this all on anon/have to make sure we know that you still think we are wrong, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt & accept your apology.In regards to your question, why I still ship Moriel, @sarahviehmann honestly said it best in her original answer to you: “ACOMAF was written in a way that intended for them to be shipped. So those people spent a year building up their fanon and meta and so forth, only to have the rug pulled out from under them.”

(For the sake of everyone, I’m putting this under a cut. It got way long.)

I hated ACOWAR. I’ve made no secret of that. I’ve also made no secret as to WHY. I’ve been writing fic for this series for over a year, & heavily focused on ACOMAF. I started when there were literally 7 fics posted to Ao3. Basically all of my free time at home & all of my breaks at work were spent either writing fic, discussing the series/meta with people here/talking my poor friends’ ears off over dinner, or planning fic for characters I wanted to explore in POV fics like Rhys, Tamlin, & Tarquin. Hell, I still have a 10 chapter Amarantha POV pre-ACOTAR through ACOTAR fic that’s over half written at 16k that I originally wanted to try as a surprise for my readers. I read ACOMAF enough times that I honestly would have said that I knew those characters as well as my own family, knew exactly what happened in which chapters, & got many comments here & on Ao3 from people who felt I’d captured the characters correctly, so I felt pretty good about what to expect going forward.

When ACOWAR spoilers came out, absolutely nothing made sense with what we knew or had been prior established canon. Most of all in regards to Mor, Rhys, Feyre, & Lucien, but I’m going to specifically focus on Mor, since she’s at the crux of the issue at hand. In Mor’s case, we took a woman who is described in ACOMAF as “a queen who owned her body, her life, her destiny, and never apologized for it” & says to Feyre, “I once lived in a place where the opinion of others mattered. It suffocated me, nearly broke me. So you’ll understand me, Feyre, when I say that I know what you feel, and I know what they tried to do to you, and that with enough courage, you can say to hell with a reputation. You do what you love, what you need”, & in ACOWAR made her a victim in circumstances that make absolutely no sense for the character we had known up until that date. Queen of the Hewn City? She wasn’t even treated with enough respect to be prepared to go into a meeting with her abusers, let alone shown that she is in charge. The first real female friend Feyre has ever had? Regulated to acting like a jealous girlfriend around Cassian whenever Nesta got too close. And speaking of Cassian, it was pointed out in another post (I’m sorry I don’t have the link right now) that the Cassian & Mor moments read like they were originally Az & Mor moments & were hastily changed when suddenly they weren’t supposed to be even friends. Nothing in this book read like it had been edited for continuity.

There are many bloggers who are far more qualified than I am to speak on Mor’s coming out scene, & while there was a divide, there were quite a few I know & follow who felt it was poorly written/bad rep, & I agree with their reasoning. Besides the fact that I don’t believe for one dang second that no one in the Inner Circle at a minimum would have picked up on something bothering Mor in 500 years or that she wouldn’t have at least told them even if she hid everything from Keir, there is the fact of Azriel. Azriel is in love with her, no disputing it. But it is mentioned by Rhys that Az has always thought himself unworthy of her, & Mor says that she could take her clothes off in front of him & he wouldn’t do anything. Does that sound like someone who is trying to avoid him because she isn’t interested, or someone who is creepily stalking her? In the Nessian short Wings & Embers, Cassian speaks on their relationship as well: “He wasn’t stupid. He knew she and Azriel were … whatever they were. Knew Azriel had been in love with Mor from the moment she’d strutted into the war-camp five centuries ago. And Cassian had been jealous—of Mor’s shy glances at Azriel in those first few weeks, and the fact that his dearest friend and brother … was looking at someone else.”

I’m not going to rehash Wings & Embers or ACOMAF for you. But as Sarah said, it was clearly written with them as a ship in mind, & this is from the POV of a character that has known them since the beginning, not just a few months like Feyre.

Why I still ship Moriel at this point? Because I ship it in any form. I love her & Az together period, even as friends. This ship was one of the ways @illyriantremors & I bonded originally, before we found out how much else we had in common & she became as good as a biological sister to me (I call her my Threadsister for a reason), because we shipped it back in the beginning before there was really any fic for it because it was overshadowed by Feysand, Nessian, & Elucien. Moriel was our Nessian; the unconfirmed side-ship with so much potential & evidence to back it up. When Sierra met SJM at San Diego Comic Con last summer, SJM dedicated Sierra’s copy of ACOMAF to Moriel. Why the af would an author do that if they planned to destroy a ship in the next book from the beginning?

We still love Moriel because it is hard to let go of something you’ve loved that much after you’ve been strung along & then had the rug pulled out from under you with no actual basis in ACOMAF to say “oh, it was there all along”; like when rereading ACOTAR through the ACOMAF filter, as I like to say to people, & seeing the clues that were left to the deeper story for Rhys. For me, those were not in ACOMAF upon reading it again after ACOWAR. I noticed you using my tags in your defense of yourself to Sarah regarding why I wanted to ignore ACOWAR &, by your interpretation, erase Mor’s sexuality. If you had read any of my blog at all after ACOWAR, you would have read that isn’t true, but I’ll spell it out for you: I want to ignore ACOWAR & what it did to my favorite characters’ personalities/their interactions with each other. I want to forget that Mor’s agency was taken away from her & that she was regulated to a plot twist. I want to forget that Az has been made out to be a creepy stalker. I want to forget Rhys treating Mor like she would be too emotional to deal with the negotiations with Kier & Eris & so he & Az didn’t tell her. I want to forget Feyre using Lucien to make Tamlin jealous in the Spring Court while she dismantled it from within & putting him in danger. And so much more.

I personally hate the book for multiple reasons, ranging everywhere from inconsistent characterization to grammar/editing issues. But I’m stuck with the facts it gave us, which is why writing fic is so hard to even consider anymore. It made everything about the series, not just Mor & Az, something I no longer can love with the intensity I once did, & the fandom diminishes that love more & more everyday with their bullying of people for not believing exactly the way they do, which is exactly what you contributed to when you sent those asks to myself & Sierra. And honestly, I couldn’t care less what you think of me. But if you had even looked at one of Sierra’s actual written posts/answers to asks—just one—you would have seen how quiet she’s been about her love for them as a ship & how determined she’s been to not to offend people while she’s been trying to come to terms with losing something that has been a lifesaver for her, to the point she has mostly stopped contributing to the fandom at all. She posted two Moriel drabbles during her birthday week because she was inspired by the Azriel candle I got her for her birthday, & as she said to you in her response to your original message, they were her way of saying farewell to Moriel. And guess what: even though it isn’t canon, people liked them.

I view Mor as bi, & if she’s given a healthy, happy female love interest in a future installment, then awesome. I want Moriel at least as close friends because I genuinely don’t think Az (at least the one from ACOMAF that actually made sense) would begrudge her if he knew the truth. Would he be sad? Sure, but I think he would support her nonetheless, just as the rest of the Inner Circle would. But I have absolutely no faith that SJM will give Mor anything good because she can milk the drama and turmoil she’s created, & I have no desire to see the characters & ships (across the board) I have loved so much destroyed any further.

I think @my-name-is-fireheart put it perfectly in her chime in on Sarah’s post: “Also, we should keep in mind that Mor expresses sexual attraction to men, she just prefers women. How she feels about men romantically is also blurred, though it’s slightly more clear. She says she doesn’t think she loves Az romantically but she doesn’t want to try it just to see.” SJM didn’t even know how to break her own ship apart properly to fit what you suggested, which is a good chunk of why we are even having this discussion right now.

I know Moriel is no longer canon. Cazigan (Cassian/Azriel/Mor) isn’t canon either, but I still love that. I have enjoyed their interactions with each other more than anything else since they were introduced in ACOMAF. The entire Inner Circle made me so happy for their closeness & how much of a family they were. I feel for a plot twist & a couple extra Benjamin Franklins, SJM destroyed everything that made one of my favorite characters in the entire series who she was (a strong, independent woman who didn’t let her circumstances break her & showed Feyre how not to let hers break her) & made her a poor caricature of herself, & made Az something he never has been before either because SJM hastily had to make her new & poorly executed addition work.

I shouldn’t be surprised though. This is the woman who attempted to retcon Eris of all characters into a decent person. And also took away any modicum of being able to read Tamlin as the multifaceted antagonist he had been & just turned him into a completely hateful ass with no loyalty to anyone to further drive home how perfect Rhys is supposed to be (which he definitely is not in ACOWAR, & I say that as someone who loved the morally grey character of Rhys).

TL;DR I ship Mor with Az in any form, even as friends, Mor being bi is not an issue, & I have lost all respect for SJM as an author after ACOWAR for giving us a poorly written/poorly edited product after the anticipation/hype this book had. Make of that what you will; I don’t care. I’m out of effs to give, & your ask & the other Az one I received, no matter who it was from or what your intentions were, pretty much tipped the scale in favor of me wanting to step back even further & have nothing to do with this fandom ever again.

I would ask that next time you think you have a problem with someone (because I doubt Sierra & I will be the last people you do this to), please think about how it comes across & think about your target. Your original ask was terribly hateful, & there is no amount of apology that can take that hurt away. And you would be amazed how far a little kindness & grace when asking a question instead of an accusatory message can go.

This explanation is more than you probably bargained for when you started this yesterday, but that’s the last I’ll say on any of this.

#kitashianswers #Anon Answers #Moriel #Mor deserved better #Az deserved better #anti-SJM #anti-acowar #long post #sorry to my followers #discourse & meta aren't my thing #but seriously #sending hateful messages to people is never the answer #especially on anon