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jokerscrazybrilliant · 3 years

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Survive - Chapter 3 - (Captain Rex)

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A03 · Quotev

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Not for the first time in my life, I found myself in the middle of a war. But not the kind of war I was used to. It all began when I wiped the training mat with Fives' face in front of all his brothers. This led to him serving me a cup of caf which I thought was a peace offering but turned out to be not entirely caf. Kix ended up having to pump my stomach and spent an hour lecturing both Fives and I on the dangers of consuming anything that goes in a battleship engine, no matter how much either party might've deserved it. Since I couldn't have Fives one upping me, I ended up sneaking into his barracks and shaving off most of his beard, making him look utterly ridiculous and having him walk around with his bucket on for most of the time until it grew back. He then returned the blow by breaking into my quarters while I was away and painting his signature five on all my clothes. I did not confront him, instead borrowing some standard issue blacks to wear until I could get more robes with the next supply run. But carefully, I plotted my revenge. "I thought revenge wasn't the Jedi way?" Kix commented while searching for the necessary tools for the operation. "Let's call it justice then. You gonna help me do this or not?" I raised a brow at him. "Of course." I smiled deviously. "Then let's get to work!"

***

The plan was set in motion. I was grinning, quite proud of myself as I sat, eagerly watching the doors in the ship’s mess hall, surrounded by the usual group of idiots. I had informed everyone in the squadron notto touch the caf machine today, and even with the numerous displeased grumblings and complaints, everyone was on board with the plan. Everyone except for Fives, of course. “Nim, are you even listening to me?” A voice insisted on drawing my attention away from the mess entrance.

“Not really Echo, why, have you said something important?”

He sighed, shaking his head in amusement. “I guess not.”

“I hope Fives gets here soon, I’m tired of waiting and I have to get to the med-bay soon.” Kix complained, pushing away his empty tray.

“Speak for yourself, I only just got here.” Echo said, shoveling food into his mouth as if to prove his point.

I grinned at the boys’ usual antics before turning back to look at the newest arrival, who was making his way to the caf machine. My eyes grew wide in realization as Rex went to press the button. Everyone but the captain! I stared in shock, my mouth about to form a shout before his hand made contact with the machine, electrocuting him immediately. He yelped in surprise, staggering backwards before composing himself quickly.

Turning around slowly to face the mess full of soldiers that had just witnessed what happened, his face was a combination of emotions as he searched the faces in front of him. “Alright, which one of you boys is responsible for this?! Fess up!”

It was chaos. Kix was giggling like a mad schoolchild beside me, and Echo had his face in his arms while trying not to choke on his food from across the table. Fives, who had stepped into the mess hall at the most opportune moment, was heaving on the floor, tears in his eyes as he took in the situation, obviously knowing it was I who was at fault. The other men were at varying degrees of delight, some simply laughing, while others, like hardcase, were shouting in joy, slapping the table loudly.

I was silent, face stonelike as I rose from my seat. “It was me captain, I am so sorry, it wasn’t meant for you – It was meant for that bitching lunatic!” I lost my composure as I pointed at Fives, only making him laugh harder. “I warned everyone else but I guess I forgot to tell you.”

The captain faltered as he looked at me, temper dissipating as he raised a hand to rub his face wearily. “That’s okay commander, didn’t realize it was you.”

“You can taze me back captain, it’s only fair.” I walked up, looking from him to the caf machine earnestly.

He chuckled lightly, “That won’t be necessary.”

I shook my head adamantly, “No, it’s only fair.” I quickly stepped in front of him, jamming my hand down on the caf machine before he could say anything else, letting out a small grunt of pain at the shock as the electricity buzzed painfully through the entirety of my body. I twitched on the floor, unsure of when I had fallen. The captain stood over me, offering me his arm.

“Are you alright commander?”

“I’m alright.” I choked out, chest still constricted in pain. “I may have fried my every last brain cell, but I’m alright.” I grinned as I realized he was laughing at me. “I am glad, however, that you find this amusing.”

His laughter only increased as he helped me up to my feet. “Permission to speak freely, commander?”

“Of course.”

“Are you certain the Fives is the lunatic?” I laughed at his words.

"Oi! I just fried myself on your behalf, you ought to show me at least a little respect.” Finally, the pain subsided and I quickly became aware of all the eyes that were on us. I cleared my throat as I devised a new plan, seeing as how the old one backfired so spectacularly. "May I borrow your gun, captain?"

His eyebrows furrowed as he took it out of his holster, handing it over slowly. "I'm almost afraid to ask why?"

My eyes locked on Fives, who registered what I was thinking a moment after I answered Rex. "I owe someone a little payback."

Fives immediately turned around and bolted out of the caf, but I was right behind him, setting the weapon to stun as I went, the caf full of soldiers cheering me on. Kix followed after us to make sure neither of us killed each other, and Echo followed after him to record it on his holopad.

My chase was cut short when we ran into Master Skywalker in the hallway. Immediately, I straightened myself as if I had been taking a stroll the entire time, flashing him an innocent smile. "Anakin." I dragged the last syllable of his name in a singsong, “What can I do for you?”

"Hello Nim. If you've had your fun, we need you on the bridge for a mission debrief." His eyes roamed over all the guilty party, from Fives, who was cowering in an entryway, to Kix, who was attempting to hide behind me, to Echo, who was trying to discreetly put away his holopad, finally settling back on me with an amused grin. "I'm glad to see you're finding your place here."

I nodded with a small chuckle, relieved when he turned and walked towards the bridge ahead of me. I turned to give Fives a threatening glance on my way. "I'd watch my back if I were you." I hissed as I passed by.

We quickly made our way up to the bridge, where Ahsoka was waiting, and Captain Rex had somehow beaten us there.

Anakin wasted no time in explaining the mission to us. “We’re being sent to the Quell system to aid Master Aayla Secura. As I understand it, her Jedi cruiser is damaged beyond hope of repair, so we need to prepare a ship to dock and evacuate anyone we can. Rex, prepare the men, Snips, go with Nim and make sure that ship is ready by the time we arrive, I’ll meet you at the gunships. Let’s have some fun!”

***

Thankfully, we hadn’t been too far from Quell, so before long I was onboard a gunship with Master Skywalker, Ahsoka, and Rex, on our way to board Master Secura’s ship to help with the droids that had overtaken them.

I watched as a stream of rocket droids powered by duo jets made their way from the separatist ship to Master Secura’s, landing on the surface and cutting their way in. “Those droids are boarding Aayla’s ship!” Anakin called over the noise. One of the battle droids landed on our gunship, ripping into the cockpit. “Take care of that clanker! I’ll be onboard Aayla’s cruiser.”

“Master! Are you sure that’s the wisest thing–” Anakin ignored Ahsoka’s comment, and I watched with awe as he jumped down, landing on the back of a super droid as it made its way to the ship.

Master Diya had been a great Master who liked to encourage creativity in problem-solving scenarios, however he usually carried the stoic air you would expect from an esteemed Jedi Master, and wasn’t usually so unorthodox. Master Skywalker, as I was eagerly learning, was entirely the opposite. He faced everything as he was, an overwhelming swirl of emotions attitude and power. And he cracked jokes as he did it.

I turned to look at Ahsoka with excitement in my eyes. “Your master is fun!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, but it gets him into troub–” I missed the rest of Ahsoka’s comment, turning to leap after Anakin, eager to join the action. I managed to land on my feet on the back of a super droid, slicing it in half before hopping down onto another, and another, before finally landing on Master Secura’s ship.

I hopped down into the ship after Anakin, slicing through battle droids as we went. “I see you followed my example.”

“Couldn’t let you have all the action.” I grinned at him as we went through several more droids. Ahsoka made her entrance before long, Rex and his troops following after her. “Glad to see you could join us.” I flashed her a quick grin before deflecting a shot back at a droid, then slicing it and the one beside it.

“You shouldn’t encourage him you know.” Ahsoka teased as we made our way to Master Secura.

“I heard that!” Anakin called, taking out the final droids separating us from the Master and her troops.

“Nice entrance, Skywalker.” The Twi’lek turned to greet us. “How do you plan on getting us out of this mess?”

“I have a ship docking in the lower hangar as we speak.” Anakin responded, grunting with effort as he stabbed his lightsaber to the hilt into two droids at once.

Quickly, we led the path to the port, ship shuddering around us as it took more hits than it could bear. “We made it!” Ahsoka exclaimed, extending the docking port. We quickly ran down the corridor but an explosion sounded, making me turn to watch as Master Skywalker force pushed us out of the reach of the blast.

“It’s too late!” He turned to try to face the blast as the doors shut between us.

“Master!” Ahsoka and I shouted in shock, quickly getting up to try to find him. I opened the blast doors slightly as she searched for his form.

“I found him.” She sliced a hole in the doors and we pulled him through, quickly getting him onboard the ship so we could detach. Ahsoka and I carried Anakin to the med-pod as Master Secura headed to the bridge, hopefully to get us to dock with the Resolute.

“Ahsoka, get an oxygen mask on him while I turn on this med-droid.” I quickly gave her a task to occupy her while I fiddled with the med-droid, searching for it’s on button. “Kix is much easier to wake up.” I mumbled, recalling the pleasant memory of dousing him with ice water and wishing he were here. He’d know how to calm Ahsoka down. How to calm me down, too. I thought to myself, conscious of the unrest that surrounded the force around me.

The droid finally powered on and began working on Anakin, beginning its scans and attempting to stabilize him. I gave Ahsoka’s shoulder a little squeeze as she stood back to let the droid do its work. “He’ll be alright.”

She gave me a little nod but didn’t speak, watching her master with anxious eyes. I felt the ship shift around us, and my brows raised of their own accord. Making my way into the hall, I found Rex working on a repair panel. “Did we just jump to hyperspace?” I asked, observing how he handled his hydrospanner less than expertly.

“Not sure. Just trying to repair the shields.” He said, accidentally shocking himself and letting out a frustrated huff before trying again.

I folded my arms and leaned against the wall, watching in amusement. “Need some help there, captain?”

He turned at my teasing tone, but unfortunately his helmet obstructed whatever expression he held underneath it. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

I laughed as he shocked himself again, “Just let me help.” Leaning down beside him, I took the hydrospanner from him, taking his place in front of the panel as he moved to the side slightly. “Besides, you’ve been fried enough for one day.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” He watched as I began repairing the damaged panel easily, blushing lightly as I laughed again in embarrassment.

“Sorry… It was an accident.” He chuckled at me, shaking his head.

“It’s alright, I’m just messing with you.” My grin didn’t fade as I kept working at the panel. “How are you so good at that?” He piped up after a few silent moments.

I shrugged easily, thinking I must’ve appeared to know more than I did. “I like starships.” Completing the repairs, I replaced the panel as Master Secura rushed past us, Ahsoka following her into the cockpit.

“That seemed important.” Rex commented, and I nodded as we stood to follow after them.

“Karabast.” I mumbled to myself as the flashing screen showed us heading directly for a star.

“We need to shut down all the power circuits so we can reset the coordinates.” Master Secura commanded.

“But that will cut off Anakin’s life support!” Ahsoka protested the orders.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

“We don’t have much time.” I interjected, preparing for being thrown out of hyperspace. “Let’s do this.”

“Switching off primary power units.” Ahsoka informed.

“Ready to shut off auxiliary power.” Master Secura said from her spot beside me.

“On three. One, two, three!” Master Secura pulled the lever, turning off the remaining power to the ship and throwing us violently out of hyperspace.

The ship shook around us and Rex, who had been attempting to hold onto the chairs in front of him, was tossed backwards, slamming into me, throwing us both against the wall and taking Master Secura with us.

“Switch the power back on! What are you waiting for?” Commander Bly shouted back at us in panic as we came up on the star.

Master Secura reached through the force, switching the lever back on just in time for us to miss the star, Rex and I crashing onto the floor as the gravity came back on. “Ow!” I complained loudly, untangling myself from him and staggering to my feet, helping him up as well.

“Sorry commander, are you alright?” He brought up his hand to the back of his helmet embarrassedly as he apologized.

“I’m fine, but man your armour hurts.” I wheezed, rubbing the bruise I could feel already forming on my side from where his elbow had slammed into me.

“Well, we’re not gonna crash into that star, but we’re definitely going to hit that planet.” Ahsoka pointed out of the viewing port in front of us. With the state our ship was in we definitely weren’t going to have a smooth landing.

Gritting my teeth, I braced myself as we began our descent into the planet’s atmosphere. The shields lasted well enough that the ship didn’t break apart until we hit the ground, flames rising around us. “Everyone out!” Rex shouted, Master Secura and Ahsoka going to get Anakin while I helped Cameron, who had been injured in our escape, out of the shipwreck.

“I – I’m alright commander, thank you.” Cameron gave me a little nod of thanks as I let go of him slowly, letting him find his way to where we would set up camp.

Commander Bly scouted the area as the other troopers set up the campfire and I helped set up a small protected area for the injured Anakin to rest in. Rex searched the ship for anything we could use but unfortunately the med-droid was damaged beyond repair.

I watched as Master Aayla and Ahsoka argued about leaving Master Anakin behind. While I understood Ahsoka’s worry, I also understood that Master Secura wanted to use this opportunity to teach the young padawan to learn to control her attachment. I could sense the anxiety Ahsoka was pouring into the force from concern over her master. I related to it, having gone through similar experiences with my own master, and when I ultimately lost him, it was excruciatingly painful. Having gone through that myself made me appreciate what Master Secura was trying to do for Ahsoka.

They seemed to have settled their dispute before coming to join the rest of the group, Commander Bly holding out a wooden carving he had found while scouting the plains around us. It showed some sort of people, surrounded by what looked like giant trees. “General Secura, look. We're not the only ones here on this planet. There has to be some kind of – something here.” Master Secura took the carving from his hands before strange guttural screeches drew our attention to our surroundings, soldiers flicking on their helmet lights, my hand drawing near my lightsaber on my belt. “That doesn’t sound too friendly.” Rex commented from next to me, gazing into the plains with his gun drawn.

“No, not at all.” I murmured. I squinted my eyes but found nothing, then opening myself to the force. I couldn’t sense anything too close, and satisfied, I stepped back to where Ahsoka kneeled in front of Anakin’s form. “Be strong, Master. Just a little bit longer. Rex and Nim will watch over you.” She told him. “It is time to go.” “Don't worry, kid. The commander and I will take good care of him.” Rex told her, helmet tucked beneath his arm. When'd he take that off? Master Secura turned to us. "Alright, both of you keep your locators on. We should be back by daybreak with whoever, or whatever, lives on this planet." "Got it, General Secura." Rex gave her a nod. “Hey, kid. Good luck." He gave Ahsoka a small smile and she returned it before they headed out in search of giant trees, and whatever help they could find.

“Hey Rex?” I spoke, still watching their retreating forms in the distance.

“Yes commander?”

“What if the trees are normal sized and the creatures are just really, really, small?” I turned to look up at him, pleased to see him grinning widely at my asinine suggestion.

“The thought had occurred to me, commander.”

I moved to sit in front of the fire, glancing at Anakin to make sure he was still breathing. “Are you really going to keep calling me that? No one else does.”

“Doesn’t matter to me what everybody else does, sir.”

I nodded sagely at this. “I respect that. I just wish it didn’t mean you kept calling me ‘commander’.” I kidded lightly, grinning as he sat down near me. “Fives didn’t even bother trying with that.” I chuckled, thinking of how easily Fives had abandoned all protocol when we became such quick friends.

There was silence between us for a while, and I could see him mulling something over in his mind before he turned to look at me, finally speaking up. "I’ve been meaning to say, commander, that I’ve noticed the way you treat the troopers in our battalion. Like they're your equals. That kind of treatment... It's rare. And it means a lot to those men. It means a lot to me. So, thank you." I glanced away from him for a moment, trying to maintain my composure and stop the flush from creeping into my cheeks, before turning back. "I know that what we're fighting for is important but sometimes... I can't help but feel like they deserve more. Deserve better. I see someone like Kix and – he's such a dreamer. The fact that war is the only life he's ever known, it just doesn't seem fair."

"All due respect sir, but we were bred for the sole purpose of this war." The firelight reflected in his golden eyes, giving them a fervour I’d never seen before. I nodded. "I know. But you're still people." He held my gaze meaningfully before turning to look into the fire in front of us. "You're one of very few who see it that way." He shook his head, lost in thought as he stared into the crackling flames, and I resisted the urge to say anything else. “You should rest, commander. I’ll take first watch.”

I shook my head at him. “I’ll take first watch, you rest!”

He huffed out a chuckle at my stubbornness. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I know I hit you pretty hard back there.” I immediately stopped nursing the bruise on my side. I should’ve known he would notice it. “You should rest it off for a bit, then I’ll have my turn.” He pushed before I could protest that it was nothing.

Sighing, I stood up and found a small area across the campfire from him. “Fine. But don’t let me sleep too long.” I lay down on the uncomfortable dirt and tried to find some peace in the silence of the nature around me.

***

A low predatory growl in the distance woke me before the nightmares could, and I bolted awake, holding my lightsaber at the ready.

“Everything alright, commander?” Rex asked from opposite the campfire.

I scanned the plains in front of us carefully. “Something’s out there.” I spoke quietly.

“Clankers?” I shook my head and he turned to see if he could spot anything.

“Something else. A creature of some kind I’d guess. And it’s not alone.” I got in a defensive stance, my back to Rex and his back to mine as we stood protectively in front of where the injured Anakin lay.

A large creature jumped at me from the shadows, and quickly I activated my lightsaber, slashing it, causing it to take a few steps back. I could make out a fierce beak, a dark feathery mane, and four taloned feet. It tried to swipe at me again, but I slashed it again, this time successfully cutting into the flesh of its leg, causing it to whimper and run off as I heard blaster shots behind me.

Whirling around, I found another of those creatures standing over Rex. It had him completely pinned down even as he tried to get a shot on it. Quickly jumping over it to land near its face, I slashed at its beak, and it backed off immediately, running after its counterpart.

“Are you okay?” I extended an arm to Rex, and he took it, nodding at me gratefully as he got to his feet.

“I’m fine, but those things will be coming back. And I’ll bet they’ll bring their friends with them.”

I nodded in agreement, staring after the creatures. “I hope the others are doing alright out there.” Quietly we sat back down, more vigilant than before as we waited for whomever returned first, the creatures or our friends.

***

It was well into the next day before we saw any more action. Rex was walking around the perimeter again when Anakin awoke, grunting as he tried to sit up. I quickly tried to get him to lie back down. “Master, you need to rest!”

“I can’t rest. They’re coming.” I helped him stand and turned as I sensed the creatures from the previous night approaching.

“Rex!” I shouted him a warning and he responded immediately, gun drawn as the two creatures stepped into the clearing. Rex managed to shoot the first one down before it could do any damage but the other one pounced on him, knocking him down before heading for me and Master Skywalker. I quickly tried to put myself between him and the creature and push us both out of its path as it charged. It overshot us and quickly found its bearings, preparing to charge again before a small furry being jumped into the clearing, tying a rope around the large beast’s legs and trying to pull, attempting to trip it.

Ahsoka followed it into the circle, and I turned to Anakin, figuring the others had a handle on things. “Are you alright, Master?” I asked him, laying him down gently and checking him over to look for any additional wounds.

He hacked out a cough before responding. “I’m doing great, can’t you tell?” I grinned at his signature sarcasm, glad he was well enough to find his wit.

“Of course, Master Anakin.”

“Master!” Ahsoka ran up to us, having successfully dealt with the large beast, and knelt next to Anakin, seeming relieved to be back by his side.

“Good to see you, Snips.” I smiled and backed off to give them privacy before we loaded Anakin onto a stretcher to carry him to whatever civilization Ahsoka had found.

Turning to find Rex cradling his arm, I raised a brow in concern. “That thing got you?”

“Just a scratch.” He shrugged it off, moving to stand next to me as we watched the creature who arrived with Ahsoka introduce himself to Master Skywalker as Wag Too in Basic.

“I guess those trees really were giant.”

“I guess they were.”

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dreamcatcherjiah · 3 years

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Part 9

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 9

A/n: Here is part 9!!! With this part, I’ve come to realise that guilt does play a nice part in the creative process, lool. It’s taken me centuries to get to a point where I felt like writing at all, I can hardly believe I managed to take this chapter into the four thousand word mark! I hope you guys like it. It is not so much where I wanted it to be, but I’m getting there!

Love you guys and I missed you a lot!🖤

As consciousness was claiming you back, your heart settled in your chest with a feeling of contentment and happiness you hadn’t felt before. Hoseok’s arm was flung over your waist and his hand was moving against your spine in soft caresses. You hadn’t moved from the position you fell asleep in and, waking up but still with your eyes closed, you could feel his soft breath against your eyelashes. Your heart jumped in your chest as his arms tightened against you, snuggling you closer to his chest. With a smile, you slung your own arm over Hoseok’s ribcage and settled your head in against his throat. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you again.

You heard Hoseok’s little yelp before you actually opened your eyes. He tensed for a second and tried prying his arm from under your neck. He was making small distressed noises trying not to wake you up but achieving totally the opposite; make you laugh. It started slow, as a small chuckle at the back of your throat that escalated into a full giggle when you opened your eyes and saw his startled expression. His eyes were open wide and his mouth was hanging open forming a heart-shaped half smile that began morphing into a full grin the longer you laughed. Instinctively, you tightened your arms around his torso and hid your face against his chest to try and calm yourself.

“And here I thought you were going to flip and send me flying from the bed,” he laughed, draping himself back around you and settling back in the bed with you in his arms.

“I haven’t felt happier than I am feeling now, I don’t ever want to let you go,” you whispered, more relaxed than you remembered ever being, letting out a calming sigh as you looked up at his smiling face, “I do know this feeling is the bond messing with our pheromones but I just don’t want it to end.”

His smile grew the biggest you had ever seen it and he dropped a kiss to your forehead. Laying back down on the bed, the both of you spent the morning talking about your lives, how you had started feeling each other through the bond at such an early age. Hoseok told you many things about his grandmother, how she had been the one to break the news of the bond to him when he was not older than two. He could still remember, he told you with a wistful smile, how the old woman would cuddle him to her chest and create new stories for him, how she would, as he grew older, talk about her meeting with Hoseok’s grandfather through the Red String of Fate.

“You must have been fascinated by those stories,” you whispered, while your hand absentmindedly drew patterns over his chest, with your head moving up and down as he drew breaths and exhaled, “I can just imagine a little Hobi smiling and listening to her telling him fairytales.”

He startled and turned his head so he could look at you. A small frown was present on his features and you wanted nothing more than touch it with your fingers and make it disappear.

“Well, not so much fairytales, since we know for a fact it is real, don’t you think?” That settled the mood into something more sombre than when you woke up. All the things, all the meetings and responsibilities waiting for you outside that room rushed to the forefront of both your minds and the blissfulness dulled to a warm sense of wellbeing around your heart. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel with you, just like this. Do you think it has to do with us sleeping together?” He asked and you watched as his features morphed into mortification when he realised how the words that just left his lips may have sounded, “I only… I meant sleeping— as in, you know, just sleeping… no, hugging you in your sleep— wait, no, that sounds creepy… you know—.”

You giggled against his chest just as you had done that same morning as you woke up. He was an adorable mess when he was flustered.

“I do know what you mean,” you responded, deciding to take him out of his misery, “in fact, that’s what I wanted to tell you last night, but my brain was too fried to form a coherent thought.”

“Is your brain okay now?” He asked, looking intently at your head, as if the answer would somehow just jump out of it and he wouldn’t have to look you in the eye.

Pushing against his chest to get into a more comfortable position, you rested your head in your hand and watched as he changed his position, half laying, half sitting against he headboard with an arm supporting his head. His other arm, as if neither of you noticed, was still resting on your shoulder blade, drawing small patterns.

“My brain is much clearer now,” you smirked, “mind you, it still thinks you’re extremely hot and can’t stop thinking scenarios, but I can control it,” only seeing how red his ears got made you regret having spoken too freely. After all, you two were still strangers, you were a fan at that and that kind of comments were highly inappropriate in any sort of situation. “Too soon?” You asked, avoiding his eyes, which wasn’t too difficult to do as he was busy himself examining the pristine ceiling as if he would find a blemish there if he focused intently enough.

With a huff, he scoffed and tightened the hold of his arm around your shoulder. “No, it’s just— I think the bond is producing the same thoughts both ways…”

That sure was an effective way to shut you up. You left your head fall from where your hand was supporting it and felt how Hoseok’s heart hammered against his ribcage on your cheek as it lay on his chest. With the way he was behaving, you would have bet and lost on him not being as affected as you were by the bond. It was time you admitted that the bond went through both of you, it would be the fastest way to get used to it and stop feeling awkward every time something escaped your mind.

“Hey,” he called, lifting your face from its hiding place and placing another sweet kiss on your forehead, “I can feel you getting ashamed and I’m not going to let you, okay?” His eyes were completely focused on yours, no trace of that semi-permanent blush that had been there since your first meeting, “We’re in this together, we’re both learning and it’s gonna take it’s sweet time, but just think about it. One day, we’ll be comfortable together, it will feel as if it’s the most natural thing to wake up in each other’s arms, even if it doesn’t now, okay?”

“It does feel like the most natural thing in the world…” you whispered, too shy to voice your thoughts aloud.

“What does?” Hoseok asked, making his lips turn into a small pout with his confusion.

Battling your shame and feeling how your cheeks got hotter and hotter as the blood rushed around in your ears, you wondered what he would do if you lied, if you made something up, other than what you had actually said. His eyes were still wide open, looking straight at you, and maybe that was it, or maybe was the way his body fit perfectly with yours and how your always screaming rational side had chosen that specific moment to shut up and bask in the wellness your soulmate was radiating to you. It may have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but you told him the absolute truth.

“Waking up in your arms,” you answered while looking him straight in the eyes.

They got even wider as his brain registered the new bombshell you had decided to drop on him and then, they traveled all over your face as if they were looking for any sign of you lying. Obviously, he couldn’t find a lie anywhere, everything you’d said was the pure, even if a bit embarrassing, truth. Then his eyes dropped to your lips and the temperature in the room rose to an unbearable extreme. Your heart, somehow dormant after the relaxing morning, did a somersault in your chest and started beating at an alarming speed, pumping blood to every crevice of your body, alerting you of every movement of your soulmate’s body, the way his breathing had also increased and he seemed unable to let go of you, bringing you closer and closer to him as the seconds ticked away. If you hadn’t been paying attention to him, you may have missed the way his pupils dilated and almost covered all the deep brown surrounding them, the way his mouth slightly opened as if the wind had been knocked out of him and the only thing he could do was try to breath. Your bodies were melting into the mattress, a mess of taut muscles and electric shocks, intertwined and beating in unison. In the back of your head you could feel a warning, something telling you that you would regret whatever happened if you gave yourselves to the bond. You would later thank him for his kindness in dealing with your messy feelings in the moment, but when his words were uttered, a frustrated sigh left your lips.

“Y/N…” he exhaled, his breath ghosting over your cheeks and sending a shiver down your spine, “Y/N, take a deep breath. Close your eyes, focus on…” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “breathing.”

Listening to his voice, you followed his instructions and turned your head away from his face. The situation had nearly gotten out of hand and you should thank your lucky stars he at least had kept some of his mind working, because the mortification that would have come out of such situation could have lasted for longer than you cared to admit. Both his hands were going up and down your back and he was whispering to himself to get his act together. You focused on his voice. Only his voice and rested your head on his shoulder looking away from him.

Little by little, sanity came back to you. As soon as Hoseok felt your uneasiness, his hold on you tightened and his hands stilled on your waist; he wouldn’t allow you to feel ashamed of what had happened. You could feel determination and affection coming out of him in waves and you decided right there and then that you would give back just as much.

“Let’s do something,” his voice, still affected, whispered into the shell of your ear, “we go at our own pace, okay? Let’s go with what it feels right for both of us.”

You smiled. Somehow he had voiced one of the hundred thoughts going around in your head: is this going too fast? He was right, you had to admit. What may be fast for the rest of the world, felt like a walk in the park for a pair of soulmates; the emotional connection was a given with the likes of you and, if the episode you experimented minutes before was anything to go by, the physical connection was there as well. The only thing missing was knowing him. Really knowing him. And he had gauged your reaction to him to perfection.

“We don’t have to answer to anyone else,” he kept saying, getting more and more relaxed, “as long as you and I are okay, then that’s all I want.”

Not needing an answer, he hugged you to his chest once more and kissed the crown of your head. He untangled himself from the mess of sheets and walked into the bathroom. It looked like the small bubble you had been enjoying most of the morning was about to burst. You rolled until your head was resting on Hoseok’s pillow and, with his scent surrounding you and overwhelming all your senses, you felt how your brain began to go back to normal. Something had clicked into place that night while you slept next to him. Your head, the rational you, that had been screaming bloody murder the prior night, completely refusing to loose its independence, had somehow recognised Hoseok as something good and essential to you. Your mind was now completely blank, not even registering the fact that Hoseok had moved away from you, the furthest you’d been since you met last night, and neither of you had even flinched.

You sat on the bed and stretched, your muscles relieving tension that had been building for years but that now was useless. Looking around, you saw your bag resting against a bookshelf next to the window and didn’t even think twice before getting up and going to get it. You were reaching down to lift it from the floor when the door to the bathroom opened and you pivoted only to see a still-wet Hoseok jumping on one foot as he tried to straighten his shirt with only one sock on.

“Oh! Are you okay?” You asked, worried he might have fallen in the shower and hurt himself or something, not even realising you would have felt or heard something if that was the case.

“I just—” he groaned as his knee nocked against the corner of the bed as he hastily approached you, “I was completely fine until I felt you moving away and I just… moved,” he looked incredibly confused, with his shirt now on and both socks in place, his hands were on his hips as his eyes shot daggers at the bed, “I didn’t even realise I could stand away from you until I could only think to get back to you.”

You smiled. The sweetness of his puzzlement moved you to the core. He was so fast to reassure you and yet, he walked on eggshells whenever he thought he might be overstepping his boundaries with you. Again, you were going to make sure he felt just how much you appreciated everything he had done for you since you met.

“Do you trust me?” You repeated your words from last night, making his head turn to you like lightning and his eyes analyse everything about you with a calculating focus that made you suddenly realise how intimidating it was to be the sole focus of Jhope’s attention. Carefully, he nodded but still his eyes didn’t stray away from you.

Without even thinking, you travelled the length of the room in two strides and threw your arms around is waist, your ear right above his heart and your hands resting lightly on his back. The sudden wave of euphoria you were expecting didn’t come, just like a mere shudder of warm honey bathing your skin, the familiarity that was already Hoseok didn’t phase you a bit. He chuckled and drove his arms around you as well, his hand caressing your hair and settling there, basking in the feeling of being together.

“It doesn’t feel invasive now, does it?” You asked, your bodies swaying side to side, “like you said before, our own time, Hoseok.”

“I love it when you say my name like that,” his voice sounded less affected than you’d ever heard it, you were wondering. He followed, “do you want to shower before breakfast? We’re supposed to be at BigHit in three hours, how do you feel about brunch?” If the mention of the impending meeting at his company phased you before, it didn’t even register as something negative in your mind now. He’d be with you.

“I think I’ll grab a shower before we leave, it’s a bit warm in here and I don’t want to shower twice if I sweat…” he nodded, tapping your head with his chin in the process, “and brunch sounds heavenly! I’m quite a bit hungry.”

As if on queue, both your stomachs growled at the same time, prompting the both of you into yet another round of giggles. If your future was going to be anything like this first morning, you were ready to laugh next to this man.

The kitchen was in pristine condition. If you didn’t know for a fact that seven men lived in the apartment you could have sworn that kitchen just came out of an IKEA catalogue. You sat on one of the chairs while Hoseok moved about between cupboards and counters. He was making salad and pulling huge containers out of the freezer. Cutting some kimchi and preparing some rice. If your calculations were right, that was too much food for only two people, but it was his house, his kitchen and his food, you weren’t about to contradict him. Maybe you could finish all that food, you were nearly starving after all.

So focused you were on ogling how he moved about the kitchen, with his hair getting fluffier as it dried, that you didn’t notice the sound of feet approaching the kitchen or some chairs being occupied next to you. You were forced out of your daydreaming by someone cleaning their throat to your right.

Turning in your seat, you were startled to find Kim Namjoon sitting next to you, his elbow on the table and his chin resting on his hand, imitating your same position. Were you really looking at Hoseok looking like that? Mortifination, here I come, you thought.

“How are you feeling this fine morning, miss Y/N?” He asked. He didn’t seem to be joking, even if his words may look like it, his eyes were serious and he sat, patiently waiting for you to answer. Looking around the kitchen, you noticed that Seokjin and Yoongi had also entered the kitchen and were busy pretending not to be paying attention at your conversation with Namjoon while preparing coffee and some kind of omelet. Hoseok wasn’t even being subtle at it and just smiled at you encouragingly only to turn and scoop a good amount of rice into a pink bowl. With a slight tilt of your head, you greeted them, thinking that introductions were long overdue but not knowing how get them out of the way without looking awkward. You decided to hold onto the lifeline Namjoon had thrown you and, looking back to him and finding him in the same position, smiled and answered his question.

“I am great, thank you very much,” your shaky smile turned into a genuine smile just as his did, and his dimples showed up, “Hoseok has been wonderful and I feel rested for the first time in years.”

A windshield boast of laughter interrupted the quiet calm of the kitchen as Seokjin threw his arm around hoseok and ruffled his hair.

“Did you all hear that? She calls him Hoseok and he’s been wonderful!” His laughter was contagious and even Yoongi ended up laughing along with the three of you as he settled in the chair across from yours. Hoseok brought over all the food and placed some of it under a small umbrella, for the little ones when they wake up, he told you. The four of you did a faster job of the food than you could have imagined. Apparently after Hoseok and you retired for the night, the rest of them had had a few celebratory drinks and had woken up hangover and hungry.

“It’s always like this, Y/N,” was telling you Yoongi, becoming quickly comfortable with you as Hoseok found more and more in common between the two of you, “we wake up early after we drink, make huge amounts of food and then, when the other three finish polishing up the plates, they clean. A nice symbiosis we’ve got here,” he finished, chuckling along with you at the image of the other three members of BTS finishing off the huge dishes the other four had set aside for them.

“Now, let’s talk business,” started Jin, after sharing a meaningful look with Namjoon, “what are we going to do with BigHit?”

Silence reigned in the kitchen then. You felt Hoseok tensing beside you and immediately relax. His feelings were a mess of nervousness, anticipation and apprehension, but on the outside he was calm and collected.

“Bang PD was okay with me having a soulmate, we’ll just go and talk to them, the PR team as well. But they should know things are changing. Y/N is here to stay,” he said as his hand got a hold of yours under the table. You had a feeling his brothers noticed but none of them did anything but nod at Hoseok’s words, as if taking it as fact.

“All of us will be there with you, of course,” was saying Namjoon, drinking his Americano with a metallic straw that reflected the light from the windows into your eyes. The whole thing looked just surreal to you, sitting in the kitchen table with Seokjin, Namjoon, Yoongi and your Soulmate Hoseok. How had your life turned into this? You wouldn’t know, “Y/N’s part of the family now. Someone will have to wake up Jimin, Tae and JK, but we’ll be ready to go when you guys are. I just need to know how many cars we’ll be needing to text Sejin.”

The other three seemed used to this complete 180 degree personality change, from the Namjoon who nearly stabbed his eye with the straw, to Kim Namjoon, RM, leader of BTS. You, on the other hand, were getting whiplash.

Sensing it, even before you did, Hoseok moved your hands from under the table and placed a light kiss on yours. His eyes connected with yours and as if he was speaking out loud for the whole house to hear, you heard his whisper: “This is normal, Y/N. I’m here, okay?”

You nodded. You just needed some time to get used to the new life thrown in front of you. You prided yourself in being a fast learner and quick to adapt to new situations. You would just have to floor it and get used to it faster.

As if you needed something else to get used to, just as Hoseok was lowering your hands back to the table, another pair of feet were heard entering the kitchen, followed by a sleepy Jimin, rubbing his face. His eyes glossed over the kitchen, seemingly taking notice of the people there and realising there was one too many.

“Hey Y/N, I’m very glad to see you looking alive again! I got very worried yesterday! I’m gonna like having you around! Please tell me there’s some mul-naengmyeon left!”

He examined the dishes as if nothing had happened wishfully ignorant to your wide eyes and the way your legs were hammering a whole into the marble floor. The older men were found in varying degrees of amusement at your nervousness, but all of them found it hilarious. It was Jin who, this time, took pity of you and smiling brightly, set a piece of kimchi in your spoonful of rice.

“That’s our Jiminnie for you, very excitable!”

Smiling, Hoseok pushed you up to your feet and reminded you to take that shower you were talking about earlier. He tidied up both your places on the table and, promising to come back quickly so you could leave for the company, he guided your shocked self back to his room. He stopped to check one on the rooms in the hallway, telling someone to get ready fast and to wake the maknae while they were still ahead of schedule, continuing later on his way. Once inside of his room, he produced a nice pair of jeans and a huge orange hoodie from one of the drawers and, putting them in your hands, gently guided you to the bathroom and smiled at you, closing the door behind you.

SOOO, WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK? TOO FAST? TOO SLOW? SHOULD I RETIRE?🥴

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

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hi-im-dazey · 4 years

Text

My first thoughts on 15x17

Behind the cut for head-canon and spoiler avoidance for them that wants ‘em

Chuck was writing versions. Each version had a different twist to set them on the path to Chuck's ending.

So what was the twist for this Sam-n-Dean that made them able to defy the narrative? Where was the moment that Chuck "screwed" his story and made actual free will?

I'll tell you what I think.

I think Chuck accidentally made one human with free will.

Only one.

Sam Fucking Winchester.

Sam can see and understand exactly what's going on. AND he is coming to realize that he is outside of Chuck’s control.

He knows Dean is being manipulated. Dean is clearly aware of it too, but he doesn't seem able to stop it. So what's the difference?

Sam told us, he told Dean, he told everyone, throughout the show, for 15 years,

‘It’s not who you are; it’s what you do.’

And because of this understanding, he relies on one particular trait of Dean's.

Dean will do literally anything to protect Sam. It's not always the right thing (he doesn't “always like it”) but in the end Sam knows and has always known the magic spell to trigger this trait in Dean. (call it “puppy dog eyes” if you want, but someone having blind trust in you, no matter what, is a helluva drug. Dean is addicted to it.)

But how come? Where did Chuck make his fatal error? What was the twist this time? The one that broke, not only the plot line Chuck wanted, but the character of Sam, as well. Making Sam incapable of following the narrative laid out before him.

I think the moment where Chuck made his mistake was the moment he had John hand the baby to the four-year-old. There’s a reason that’s the scene that kicks this all off.

A moment of extreme trauma and dire importance, literally burnt into Dean's brain.

Setting up this trait in Dean enabled Sam to truly push through any obstacle Chuck's story presented, because he knew Dean had his back when push came to shove.

Nothing bad was ever going to happen to him as long as Dean was around.

It's the song he grew up listening to.

"But," you say, "Everything that ever happened to Sam was quantifiable as ‘bad’!" (the joke of the only stroke of luck Sam Winchester ever had was that coffee cup landing on its ass is sad, but true)

Yes, and don't you think he has noticed that?

He’s given considerable thought to the fact he has survived this long with that much crap, against all odds, largely because of Dean. Anyone else would have been dead the first time and it would have stuck. Yet here he is. This has only reinforced the fact that Dean will try to do anything to save him. Not only will he try to do, he will succeed.

Without Dean he may have died at six months, or any time between then and now. It’s an important revelation when Dean tells Sam about carrying him out of the fire in season 1, Sam did not know that before then, but it makes Dean’s entire character snap into focus for him.

Sam has seen the pattern, he sees the hand of Chuck in their lives. He tries to break them out of the pattern over and over again.

Even before he fully understood what was happening and that it could be broken out of. Or that this was what he was doing. Before he was consciously breaking free, he still broke out of the plot.

Dean sees it too, he's not dumb.

But Dean's life did not belong to anyone, not the way Sam's has always been his responsibility. He only has Sam to help him break out of the hamster wheel, and I think they are just now seeing that.

I think Sam understands now, that for some reason, he is free and can refuse to do what is laid out before him. And, indeed, that he has been refusing his entire life.

He also understands that Dean can break out of the pattern too, but he needs Sam to help him.

Sam is the snapped fingers in the corner of Dean’s eye.

Sam is the trance breaker for Dean.

Sam is that moment of real panic that flooded his system when the house was burning and Sam’s life was in his hands.

That moment, that plot twist, is what broke Chuck’s story.

I’ve said before that the reason Chuck is afraid of Jack is that Jack was not written by Chuck, Jack is what the characters in the story wrote when Chuck left them alone (to go off and play with Amara), and in Unity Chuck admits there were things he “didn’t write”

So someone else must be writing things. When did that start, though? At what point did Chuck lose control of the authorship and accidentally allow another author into his sandbox?

Maybe when John Winchester handed a baby to a four-year-old. Maybe the reason Sam has free will is because he is also capable of writing in Chuck’s world. Or maybe he is capable of writing in Chuck’s world because he has free will.

What we saw in Unity was Chuck forcing his will on Dean to get to his poetic, tragic ending. He squeezed all of Dean’s rage up to the surface, and added more, he gave him an order direct to his nerve ending, squeezing his ink through Dean’s veins... “This time, fire that gun, boy!” Daddy’s blunt little instrument fed on rage and frustration and anger at being thwarted and impotence at being led on a string...

And Sam, again, snapped his fingers in the corner of Dean’s rage and broke him out. I think we saw Sam beginning to realize that he has the upper hand here.

And I don’t think Chuck has realized that Sam himself is, in fact, the issue.. yet.

Not the bullet hole, or Sam’s hope, or the demon blood, or the latent powers or missed destiny.

Sam’s existence and being are the issue. What Sam DOES, not who he is or was meant to be. Sam’s actual free will is the problem for Chuck. (and take a moment here to remember that almost every crisis Chuck wrote for Sam involved removing Sam’s agency and autonomy.)

He thinks they are all refusing to toe the line, I don’t think he understands that Sam is the one editing his book yet.

And what about Castiel? Well, the moment he shook hands with Sam, he was broken. His chassis may have come off the assembly line cracked, and Naomi may have patched him up time and again, but the second he shook hands with Sam, he was irredeemable for Chuck’s narrative.

Chuck inserts himself in to the story as the prophet, maybe to check in and see what’s going wrong? Figures out that Cass is broken (again?) and takes steps to make an opportunity to “remake” Cass. Then again, once back in Sam’s orbit, Cass is again, broken... there is something that cracks apart for Cass when he interacts with Sam.

This is not a shippy thing, btw. It’s being confronted with a creature that has actual free will... Cass is not equipped to handle that. He left the angel factory without that blind faith setting. He can ‘see’; and he ‘sees’ Sam. Every interaction with Sam shows him what is wrong with the rest of the story.

And again, Chuck rebuilds Cass, and this time traps him in a story where Cass himself is the villain. And Cass was a great villain, that was a good story, no matter how you feel about Cass or Misha, season 6 was a good story.

When Cass returns again, in season 7, hyperbole is gone now, he literally BREAKS himself upon touching Sam. There is no metaphor here, he takes on Sam’s brokenness, with a touch.

(”you’re broken [...]broken toys? You throw them away...”)

The only way Chuck could possibly hope to keep Castiel from being broken is if he can keep him away from Sam.

But Chuck hasn’t realized this yet. He tries to write a narrative that Naomi is “tuning him up as he transgresses” as she has in the past? or as she has in other worlds?

Is Dean what really breaks him free of Naomi?

No, touching the Angel Tablet does it... and again, this is just Chuck, writing his way to his preferred ending. The Narrative Cycle begins again because the Angel Tablet ‘resets’ Cass. This plot point starts us on yet another iteration of the “remove Sam’s agency so one of the brothers sacrifices either himself or the other” cycle.

~~~

Looping back again to the fifth season...

When Chuck says “endings are hard” in Swan Song he’s not talking about writing that ending. That ending was good, it was solid, it closed out the story on a note of melancholy hopefulness, Sam was gone, and the apocalypse averted. It wasn’t happy but it was complete.

That ending wasn’t hard to write.

It was hard for Chuck to read.

Because that wasn’t what he was trying to write, Sam took over his narrative. Sam refused to kill Dean, Sam refused to kill Adam, Sam refused to kill Michael or allow Michael to kill Lucifer, or allow Lucifer to kill either of Sam’s brothers or his own brother.

Sam effectively cock blocked Chuck’s little ‘fratricide 21-ways served in a light creamed-angel sauce with a side order of fried surrogate dad’ all you can eat and there’s dancing after banquet finale.

Cass comes back, almost immediately, because Chuck needs to re-boot the cycle. Because Sam screwed it up for him, again. (Maybe if Chuck takes Sam’s soul out of the equation... he can get some traction on his plan, this time.)

Sam Fucking Winchester is simultaneously Chuck Shurley’s hero, voice, protagonist, and muse.

He’s also Chuck’s biggest problem.

Sam Fucking Winchester is the corner Chuck has written himself into.

~~~

Now this is all just spit balling head-canon, and probably nowhere near where the writers are actually going, but it woke me up early and took over my brain and prevented me from doing my homework (which is also writing, to be honest) until I got it all out of my system.

~~~

Inserting standard disclaimer: (C-A-S-S is how they spell it on the show, and more importantly, it makes screen-reading software for the visually impaired pronounce it correctly; as opposed to C-A-S which makes screen-readers say “Kah.”)

#spn #spn spoilers #spn 15x17 #spn Unity #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #chuck shurley #Jack Kline #Castiel #Cass #non-shippy #head canon #spitballing #writers lie #alternate theory #posted 10-30-2020 #Spelling it Cass is screen reader friendly

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rayfollowsfromhere · 5 years

Text

Sapphic September Day 7

Today's word was Cold.

-.-.-

The cemetary was empty when Domi got there. The lights on the street beside it had just flickered to life despite the sun hanging just above the rooflines. Given the lack of lights in the cemetary Domi didn't much mind.

She weaved between the headstones till she came to a half row of empty plots. There was a hole dug, splitting the empty plots from the full.

It was one of the last rows in the cemetery, butting right up against an old oak tree and well-hidden from the park beyond by a tall hedge. In the quiet of the cemetery you could even hear the families playing on the other side - the children laughing and squealing as they ran around.

Domi stopped at the grave on the other side of the hole. She crouched. There was no marker the last time she'd come to visit and she was surprised to see a curly script on her brother's grave.

Beloved Son, Galvin Davies, 1984-2012.

"I'm officially older than you big brother." Her voice cracked and Domi took a stuttering breath. "I graduated ya know. Finished my residency just last year."

There was no response, of course. Domi didn't believe in ghosts or magic or whatever else Eleanora thought she could do. But…she still kinda hoped to hear her brother's voice.

Domi reached a hand out, let her fingers trace the lettering her mother had selected. She pursed her lips, "Sorry I haven't visited." She glanced to her left, to the hole her sister would be lowered into tomorrow. "Sorry it took something -"

Footsteps alerted Domi to someone behind her. Though they stopped a few rows back. She cleared her throat and stood.

When she turned around Domi came face to face with Amity Lawn. Her spine straightened and her eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

Amity Lawn looked just as she remembered him - square jaw, leather jacket, and scuffed up boots. His face had a few more angles on it now and his eyes were ringed with yellowing bruises from lack of sleep.

"S-sorry…" Amity couldn't- or wouldn't- meet her eyes. He gestured a bit. It drew her eyes to the bouquet of flowers in his hands. "I was just-" he gestured again, this time towards Gavin.

Domi found herself stepping towards him, placing herself between her brother and his would-be murderer. "Go away."

His eyes finally flickered up as his hand, jittery and pale, ran through his hair. "I didn't mean-"

"I said go away!" Domi screamed at him. Her voice echoed, too loud in the quiet cemetary. Amity flinched back. He took three paces before stopping.

His chest and shoulders rose as he took a noticeable breath. She recognized the technique - eight in, eight out. Her fingers curled into fists and her nails dug into her palms.

Amity's chin rose and Domi was struck by the flatness of his eyes. Listless. It was like staring into the earth itself, but far less comforting. Less comforting in that it sent warning bells off in every lobe of her brain, including the cerebellum - which was providing exactly zero help as her feet refused to move.

"The lady said to leave." Eleanora's voice was as flat as Amity's eyes and it sparked a flicker in them. Amity took the bouquet with him when he fled.

Domi had jumped what felt like three feet when Eleanora spoke. When she turned around, again, she found the woman behind her.

"How long have you been here?" Domi groaned as Eleanora smiled at her.

"A while," she shrugged, nodded her head in the direction Amity fled, "I wanted to see if he'd show up."

Domi took a breath, flexed her hands a few times to loosen the fingers. "How did you know-"

"That your brother was the one he attacked?" Eleanora raised a brow. "Despite you not telling me that crucial bit of info?" Her smile stretched wider.

Domi rested her hands on her hips. "I told you about my brother years ago."

"You said he died, due to an accident." Eleanora snorted as she gestured with her thumb behind her, "Dude used a rope. That was no accident."

"Well?" Domi gestured out, "How'd you figure out it was my brother he attacked?"

Eleanora rolled her eyes, long and slow, before giving Domi a pointed look. "This isn't that big of a town. Two men get attacked in roughly the same time period, it isn't hard to piece together, Domi."

"That's..." Domi nodded, sighed, "…fair." Eleanora chuckled. Her laugh was dry and hollow. Gooseflesh spread across Domi's skin at the sound. "You okay, Nora?"

"Been a day," Eleanora's lips trembled, but her smile held. "Been a while since anyone's called me that."

Domi shook her head, grinned, "Been kind of a day for me too." She rolled her shoulders back. With a tilt of her she asked, "Wanna get some food? The bar's just across the street."

"Bar food huh?" Eleanora clapped her on the shoulder as she started walking. Domi followed half a step behind. "It's gotta be a helluva day for a doctor to suggest that."

"The occasional soul food is good for everyone," Domi hip checked Eleanora as the stepped onto the sidewalk. "Occasional being the key word."

Eleanora kept her mouth shut all the way into Patrick's Pub. Once she plopped herself onto a stool she leveled another look at Domi, "I am confused about one thing."

"Just the one?" Domi flagged down the bartender and ordered a scotch. Eleanora ordered water and chili cheese fries. Extra cheese.

"In this town, your ex-stalker is the sheriff and the man who murdered your brother might have been dating your sister." Domi closed her eyes and wished for her scotch to get there sooner as Eleanora spoke. "Why the hell would you move back here?"

The bartender delivered her scotch. Domi downed it and tapped the edge of the glass for a refill. "In my defense, I didn't know Amity was back." She rolled her neck, "And technically, Galvin committed suicide."

Eleanora tutted at her, water still untouched, "Semantics."

"I grew up here. My family was here. Is here." Domi sighed, downed her second scotch, and shoved the glass away. "It's not like I knew Ana was going to get murdered the day before I arrived."

A hand patted her shoulder and Domi glanced at Eleanora to see her looking at the bar top with scrunched up eyebrows.

"You're shit at comfort."

Eleanora shoved her shoulder then, "If you wanted comfort you should have stayed in Nashville where you could drink with Sera."

"Yeah..." Domi folded her arms over the bar and rested her head atop them. "I suppose that would've been better."

"Suppose?" Eleanora snorted befor finally bringing her water to her lips. She shook her head as she glanced around the bar. "And you call me nuts?"

When the psychic has a point, you know you're screwed. Domi groaned and turned her head to bury her face in her arms.

"Only behind your back." Domi mumbled into the wooden bartop.

"Hey!" Eleanora flagged down the bartender, "Double that order of fries or the doc here is going to be drunker than a skunk within half an hour."

Domi turned her head to glower at Eleanora, who sipped at her water with a smile. "I hate you."

"Feelings mutual," Eleanora patted her back a few times. Domi watched her scope out the rest of the bar, eyeing each patron with the aid of the bar's mirror and the shiny jukebox.

Eleanora would know all the juicy secrets by closing time.

"Can I get a bourbon? The cheap stuff." Eleanora nodded her thanks as the bartender set the fries down between them. Domi upped her estimate to midnight as Eleanora dropped from her stool to go mingle.

"At least she left the fries," Domi mumbled to herself before picking up the cheesiest looking fry in the basket.

Cheese makes everything better. Even sitting in a bar with a psychic she didn't like, or believe in, in a town where that psychic was the friendliest face.

#sapphicseptember #sapphicseptember2019 #the life and times of a writer #daily writing challenge #writing #writers on tumblr #writblr #writeblr

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kriss-the-writing-nerd · 5 years

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11/11/11 tag game

Answer 11 questions, make 11 new questions, tag 11 persons!

I was tagged by @waterfallwritings for this! Thank you, your questions were really interesting and fun to answer! o(^▽^)o

(Sorry if I got a bit lengthy, it was just so nice to do something not university related after exams!)

1. How do you come up with ideas for your WIPs?

The heavy artillery from the get go, eh? *cracks knuckles* Okay, to be honest, I'm not sure. I've never really thought of it, they're just there, clamoring for attention (plot bunnies are my best ally and worst enemy). I definitely have bouts of very intense inspiration and days when I just,, can't. Even if I know where the scene is going, how it's going, and why, the words aren't there. Or they're all wrong. (This is when I default to writing ugly-crying emotional breakdowns or sex. Likely both.)

Working out a story is a game of association laced with concepts and core elements for me. Like this: dragons (core element) + mountains (association) + tribe/clan (concept) + shapeshifting (association/concept) + relocation/settlers (core element). And that's basically my dragon wip.

Eld's story is based on a Doctor Who quote "demons run when a good man goes to war". Ren and Kuro grew up with me; at some point they just started acting on their own - I just throw shit at them and sees what shakes loose at this point. (They have five kids! How???? did that?? happen???)

(I'm a sucker for prompts. My brain can see a single word and just, run of with it hollering in glee.)

2. How do you get past gaps in the plot?

Urrrrgh, I have to get past them??

I struggle, is what I do. Typically I let it sit, soundly on the back-burner in my mind, until I've mulled through my story to the point where the hole is gone. (This takes months, and with my sci-fi wip I ended up rewriting the dang thing completely at the third draft after eight years of working on it. Scrapping it was painful.)

Or I try a different angle. Sometimes it works.

3. What motivates you to keep writing?

I love writing. There's really no more significant reason than that. Writing allows me to express myself, create and explore worlds and characters who wouldn't exist otherwise. And it lets me just exist without any layers. When I've been hurting, writing has helped me get the pain out with no more than tears.

And I love words and languages; the way we have about 10 different words to say "snow" (partly because Swedish mesh several words into one but still) and maybe 2 (3?) for heat. That there are groups of languages with the same ancestors that are so close; how absolutely amazingly different they can be (I just learned "y" is not considered a vowel in English and I'm???? Completely blown. What. What do you mean it's not a vowel. Are you sure???). And languages with different alphabets and ones that use pictures to represent ideas instead of sounds! And sign languages!!

And idioms! It's so cool how idioms can carry words of wisdom, caution and reassurance, and rarely can be translated (classical examples from Swedish "There's no danger on the roof" and "The rain is standing like sticks in the ground") because they lose their connections to the cultures they are used in.

The universes in my head are as full of life as the real world and not nearly as anxiety-inducing. I have stories to tell. And you know that feeling when you’re in the zone and everything is flowing and you’re writing 10′000 words in a go? That.

4. Do you do any other kind of creative writing?

I dabble in poetry? Like, very sporadically and with mixed results. I have a friend into slam poetry who opened my eyes to it, too.

(Would fanfiction go here too?)

5. Do you have any other creative hobbies besides writing?

Urngh, yeah, too many. If I’m not reading, my hands need to be moving or I’m an unhappy bean. Though, writing is the only thing I never put down. Ever.

Okay, so, I draw (badly), both on paper and digitally. Mostly landscapes. I also try to make house sketches/plans. And I paint (a bit better than I draw), prefer oils or acrylics over water colors. My partner and I also paint miniature models when there is time.

I also crochet and knit, and I love origami. I roleplay (Dungeons & Dragons, whenever the DMs have time), and I play the violin (and piano) and write simple music for myself.

I garden if there's time in the spring and during summer, and I absolutely love these little fairy-gardens that have been popping up everywhere. On that note, I have more houseplants than I have space for.

I'm also thinking to start up a little thing making bracelets and bead strings for fidgeting. I needed some kind of stim toy to be able to focus and I wanted something silent with many different sensations to keep me entertained. I hunted around a bit but eventually made my own and they turned out pretty nice!

(I also like to bake, especially pies and breads.)

6. What do you do when you’re stuck on a scene and don’t know how to get it out / write it?

I slam the key words in. And then I ignore it until it stops fighting back so much.

Or I backtrack. Sometimes I've written myself into a corner unknowingly.

Sometimes I drop a wip that's giving me grief and work on another, or I use word/idea prompts to get me started.

7. How do you decide how to end your WIP?

God, please tell me because I don't hecking know. Should I do an epilogue? Should I leave it open/ambiguous? Should I just cut it off and leave the next step to the reader? Should there be a "true" ending, with goodbyes (actual or metaphorical)?

Urrrrrrrrgh. Good Lord, endings.

8. When in the process of writing do you decide how its going to end? Or do you kind of just wait til you get there?

Either I know from the start, before I write the first words, or I wait. Which tends to mean frustrating the hell out of myself. I have started to go through my wips (whether original or fanfiction) and give them all bare-bones outlines, because not having endings is a big problem for me.

9. Why did you decide to join writeblr?

Basically when I decided I had had enough of the "join to see more" button or the "sensitive material" warning. And when I realized there was a really nice writing community here I could maybe become a part of. (A major reason was actually @concerningwolves advice posts.)

10. What’s your favourite food?

(CW: Maybe skip if you’re vegetarian/vegan/you’d rather not read about meat.)

Chinese deep-fried chicken with sweet-and-sour sauce (not the spicy chili kind, the actual pineapple and tomato juice based kind) with rice. No question about it.

Mom's "blodbröd med fläsk" is a close runner up though, but we only eat it once a year, at the midwinter solstice. It's homemade Swedish tunnbröd (hard thin-bread) with blood instead of water in it that you dip in boiling water to make it soft, with white sauce, and fried, thoroughly salted pork.

(Believe me, some country-side Swedes in the northern parts are still pretty pagan about the sun coming back, me included. It's a big deal when you go between no night/darkness and then very little/no sun.)

11. If you had to kill off a character in your WIP, who would it be and why?

People are dying right and left in most of them already, since three include large-scale wars, so there's no shortage there.

But if I had to choose a main-character or a directly supporting character? (MY BABIES! NO.)

I think Ren, from the sci-fi wip, because he would be free from both responsibility and physical and mental pain. (My boi is a wreck.) It wouldn't be unlikely either. But at this point it would destroy my story! 😂 Less story-destroying would be their foster-guardian Sandra. It would still force me to write a completely new arc, but it would be do-able.

Although, regarding the fantasy wip Firestorm, Kebarock dying in their war would crush Sunling. That could be done without losing the plot entirely. Hmmm.

Puh, that was a lot of thinking! Okay, I'll be tagging.. @concerningwolves @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @adorhauer @focusdumbass @sleepy-and-anxious @els-writes @meteorwrites @sebastian-writer @telvivere @thescribesloft and @aceymichaelis No obligation to do this of course! <3 (And if I tagged you and you’d rather not be tagged in games, I apologize, please let me know)

And here are your questions if you want to:

1. What about your wip makes you smile?

2. What's the hardest decision you've had to make in regards to a wip?

3. What text font do you prefer writing in? Or do you write by hand?

4. Are there pets in your wip? If not, what pet might your character(s) keep?

5. What AU would you love to see/write for your wip?

6. Is there any type of music/a song in particular that you associate with your wip?

7. Are you a night owl or an early bird/When do you write?

8. Favorite beverage?

9. Where do you prefer to write? At home? In a library? On the bus/train?

10. What are your first 3 to 5 associations with the word 'writing'? Why those?

11. What do you do when you're bored?

Hope you enjoy! o(^◇^)o

#11/11/11 tag #11 asks tag game #tag game #ask game #writing related #writing community #writeblr community

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sittingoverheredreaming · 6 years

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Part three of HaruMichi BatB! See the masterpost for previous installments. And as always, comments are the best!

The sun was Haruka’s only hint at the time. The room she’d been given had two small windows, facing south, just large enough to stick her head out of. They bore heavy red velvet curtains that cast her into eternal night when closed. Open, though… she managed to pin one side to the wall with an understuffed armchair that had been in the corner.

It was morning, now. The sunlight glittered on the dew-wet tree tops. Haruka tried to see her truck through the leaves, but she could not even find the road. It wouldn’t matter if she could find her way to it, though. There was nothing but trees as far as she could see, and without gas she did not trust she’d make it back to civilization.

“It’s a bit too small if you’re trying to escape.”

Haruka jumped, banging her head on the top of the window. She bit her lip to keep from swearing. Behind her was… at first she saw nothing, but then it moved. A little ripple in the light, the faintest shadow of a human form… two human forms. The ghosts the mon- the ghosts Michiru had mentioned.

“Oh dear!” the shorter one said, scurrying to Haruka’s side, arms posed like she held up voluminous unseen skirts. “We didn’t mean to startle you! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little bump.”

The little ghost stretched to reach Haruka’s head. Her fingers ruffled through her hair like a winter breeze. Haruka shivered, but the pain receded.

“I’m Usagi.” The ghost dipped into something like a curtsy. “And this is Makoto. Do you by chance know my daughter?”

The ghost did not have any discernible facial features, but Haruka could feel the eagerness radiate from her. She felt a tug of deep sadness. If the mansion was as old as it seemed, the ghost’s daughter was probably long gone.

“I’m not from around here, sorry.”

“That’s a pity, my daughter has probably grown into a wonderful lady you’d be lucky to know. Or…” the ghost spun excitedly. “It’s a good thing, because if my daughter is your age, you’d surely fall in love with her instead of--”

“Usagi.”

The small ghost made herself smaller. “Sorry.”

Makoto came forward, gliding rather than walking. “Our Lady Michiru believed you may need company.”

“Oh, no, I’m alright, you guys don’t need to—“

“But we want to!” Usagi butted in again. “We haven’t had a visitor in… in…” She froze, fading in and out of full color and clarity. She was round and blonde, with blue eyes wide in horror. “It’s been…” She rose a transparent hand to her opaque face. “We are…”

Makoto flashed into clarity and put a solid hand on Usagi’s shoulder. They both calmed back to shadows.

“Well,” Usagi said, as though nothing had happened, “it’s been several years, at least. So we could use the company as much as you could!”

Haruka forced a smile. “Alright then.” If she stayed here, would she face the same fate? Had the creature trapped these two women years ago, and now that they had died or done whatever had put them in this limbo, she’d decided she needed another?

“Do not be afraid,” Makoto said gently, as though sensing Haruka’s thoughts. “We are Michiru’s handmaidens, while she is trapped here so are we.” She turned to the door. “Would you allow us to give you a tour?”

“Um, sure.”

They took her through various sitting rooms, the kitchen, a library and even a wine cellar. Usagi advised her on the many nooks and crannies where you might— not that she had, that would be irresponsible as a lady’s maid, but still, you might— sneak a suitor in to have a moment alone. Makoto was more practical, she told Haruka where the entrance to the walled gardens was, if she would like to go outside, and all the staircases that led to the floor her bedroom was on.

They came upon a staircase that neither of them said a word about. Haruka stopped. “Is that where she told me not to go?”

Both ghosts froze. “Yes,” Makoto said. “And you’d best keep to that.”

“Why?”

“Haruka! Michiru is a lady.” Haruka had the keen sense that Usagi had her hands on her hips. “She can’t have someone like you in her chambers. It would be improper.”

Makoto hurried them both along. Haruka wondered if that was the whole story, or if it was true at all.

“What else can you tell me about her?”

“Generally,” Makoto said sternly, “if you want to know about someone, you should ask them directly.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

She softened. “You’re afraid.”

“No!” Haruka’s stubbornness got the better of her. “I would never, I just—“

“She was made to be frightening,” Usagi said quietly. “I was scared for a while, too.” Her shadow shrunk down smaller than ever. “It hurts our Lady. She could always be scary, but she got to choose when.”

“She was not nice, but nor was she cruel. Her family took care of the town, and employed many of its people, and she had no need to extend more kindness than that.”

“What happened, then?”

“Oh Haruka,” Usagi said. “You can’t expect us to spill all her secrets for her.”

Haruka could not help but smile a little. “I’m beginning to think you’re plotting something.”

“It would do Michiru good to have company aside from us.” Makoto sighed. “She does not like to admit to loneliness, but it’s clear she’s suffering.”

Part of Haruka wanted to shout that she, too, would suffer when kept as a prisoner, especially with something that, while they spoke highly of her, was still clearly a monster, but she thought better of it. “She did seem… sad, last night.”

Usagi nodded her shadowy head. “She wanted so badly to impress you!”

That, perhaps more than anything else, rang true to Haruka. The creature had tried so had to grasp the silverware, and Haruka had pretended not to see but all she could wonder was why she did not simply eat with her claws, if it was what she was accustomed to. She felt bad, now, for how she’d reacted. Michiru had been, it seemed, a person. Still was, probably, despite how she looked. Haruka’s cheeks flushed with shame. She knew what it was like, to be treated as less than you were.

She thought for a long moment. “Could the two of you convince her to come to dinner again?”

“We can try.”

“And the kitchens will make anything I want? Even if it’s not a food that you guys would know?”

“It should, yes.”

“Haruka, are you plotting too?”

She laughed. “I think I just might be.”

****

Haruka made her way to the dining room that evening and was pleased to find exactly what she’d wanted. The table bore a large plate of hamburgers and a practical troph of fries. She deeply wished she could send a pic of it to Mina, it was a party dream come true.

She took a seat towards the middle, so that wherever Michiru sat there would not be so much distance between them.

The shadows from the windows grew longer. The food stayed magically warm, but Haruka still worried. Her misgivings about trying to befriend a monster, her captor, began to rise in her stomach again.

There was a rustle outside the door. Haruka caught a glimpse of a scaly tail in the crack it was open. Michiru was pacing outside. Haruka surprised herself by thinking there was something almost endearing in it.

“Please come in,” she said as steadily as she could.

Michiru came to the door, half hiding behind it. “What is this?”

“They’re hamburgers.” Haruka took one. “They’re good. You eat them like this.” She rose it to her mouth and took a bite.

“If all you seek is to poke fun—“

“No, no! I like them.” She took some fries, hoping to drive the point home. “I thought you might too.”

Michiru hesitated, but then slowly approached the table. She took a seat again at the end of the table and took a burger as gingerly as she might handle porcelain. Her claws strained the bun but did not pierce it.

She looked at it with suspicion, then glanced to Haruka. “What is the year?”

Haruka swallowed her bite quickly. “2018.”

“Ah.” She turned back to the food. “And people… eat with their hands now?”

“Sometimes, yeah. For burgers and pizza, and stuff. We don’t eat steak or whatever by picking it up like this.”

“Oh.” She looked at the meat. “Is this not a steak?”

“It’s beef, yeah, but if there’s bread like this, we use our hands.”

“Like with hors de’ouvers.”

“Sure.”

Haruka watched, hopefully not in ant way that was weird, as Michiru chanced a bite. Her gaunt face twisted the moment it was in her mouth. “Oh dear, it’s quite… well, I should hope I’m not being rude, but it’s absolutely disgusting.”

Haruka laughed. “Yeah, we probably have way worse taste than people did in your day.”

“I would say so.”

They made eye contact, smiling at each other for the first time.

“We’ll try something else tomorrow, I’ll try and figure out—“

“Tomorrow?”

“Well, yeah, you said it was proper to have dinner together every day. Or do you mean you want something else now?”

“Oh no, you don’t need to worry on my behalf.” She looked down at her plate, limp hair falling over her shoulder. For a moment, Haruka could see how the motion would look on a person, on a woman who might be called beautiful. “You have been very kind to me, and I have not repaid you as such.”

“You don’t gotta…”

“Do you wish to leave?”

Haruka shut her mouth, suspicious of a trick.

“I can’t keep you here, I know. I acted selfishly, and I want you to go freely.”

“Well, I can’t get far without gas for my truck, and I know you can’t give me any.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can we make a deal?” Michiru nodded. “My roommate will come looking for me. Can I stay here until she finds me? She’s tenacious, she’ll make it eventually.”

“That sounds fair.”

“And until then, we can always have dinner together. And maybe…” Haruka wracked her brains for a good gesture of faith. “Makoto told me about the gardens, but didn’t take me. Maybe tomorrow you could show me around?”

Michiru pushed her burger around her plate, a small smile breaking across her face. “I would like that, Haruka.”

Haruka stopped just short of saying “It’s a date.” Life had gotten very strange very fast.

#sam writes #harumichi batb #this is the critical moment I’ve never kept up with a fic series past three chapters #but chapter four excites me a lot so! I think I’ll make it!#harumichi

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