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seraphiism · 6 months

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─── 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐒𝐌'𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓

✧ ˚ · . welcome to kay's 2023 writing collab event! this is intended to be small, no pressure community event ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و essentially, the premise is to pick a quote from this post and write a fic revolving around said quote! there are many options, so i hope everyone will find one they'll enjoy integrating into their story (･ω･ﾉﾉﾞ

✧ ˚ · . STATUS [ 12/31 ] : CLOSED! masterlist here!

✧ ˚ · . guidelines !

01. SFW x reader fics only. 02. no dark content, no NSFW content. 03. no min or max word count. 04. pick only one quote; this means only one submission per writer for this event. i would like everyone to have a fair chance :^) this is subject to change, though! i don't expect all the quotes to be claimed, so maybe later down the road, the submission count will increase. 05. when you post your fic : ♡ provide the source of the quote ( e.g. from path to nowhere, by so and so, etc. ) ♡ mention/tag me so i don't miss anyone's work (•’╻’• ۶)۶ ( @seraphiism ) ♡ link back to this post ♡ tag your fic with #seraphiism'23

✧ ˚ · . how do i join ?

choose a quote & fandom from the lists below, then send me an ask containing: ♡ the quote you want to claim ♡ ( preferably ) the fandom you'll be writing for ( if you’re not sure, still deciding, or decide later that you want to change it, that’s fine! as long as it’s from the fandom list. you don’t have to msg me or anything! ) ♡ the blog name you will be posting your fic from please note there are no duplicates, so quotes are claimed on a first come, first serve basis. if someone else has claimed that quote, i will let you know! i'll respond to the ask and update the quote list with your blog name.

✧ ˚ · . when is the deadline ?

the deadline to post fics will be december 31st! this is a very, very lax deadline. if you don't have enough time, expect to post your fic after the date, or no longer wish to participate, that's completely okay! the point of this event is just to have fun. things happen-- school, work, life events, emergencies, creative block, etc. -- i understand, so please do not feel obligated :^) that being said, if you decide to not participate anymore, send me a message so i can make the quote available again! you are also more than welcome to post the fic before dec 31st!

✧ ˚ · . fandoms ! ( under the cut )

♡ baldur's gate ♡ code vein ♡ dragon age ( all series ) ♡ fire emblem ( all series ) ♡ genshin impact ♡ granblue fantasy ♡ final fantasy ( all series ) ♡ honkai star rail ♡ jujutsu kaisen ♡ obey me ♡ path to nowhere ♡ resident evil ( all series ) ♡ tears of themis ♡ tokyo revengers ( time-skip only ) ♡ touchstarved

✧ ˚ · . quotes !

╭┈ 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ✧. ┊ 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶 01. ' please don't get hurt while i'm not around. ' 02. ⁭' i know it's painful, but don't give up. ' 03. ⁭' let go. this time, it's my turn to protect you. ' 04.⁭ ' as long as you need me, i'll always stay by your side. ' 05. ' i want to watch it once more, the sunrise. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @dxy-drxxm )

✧. ┊ 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶𝗶 06. ' when that time comes, i shall willingly be at your mercy and follow you to the ends of the earth. ' 07. ' it must be hard for you to understand, right? that there'd be a selfish, cruel and cold-blooded monster like me in this world. ' 08. ' i know you're suffering now. perhaps nothing i will say will ease your pain. ' 09. ' no, i don't want you to die. i won't allow it. ' 10. ' you're ahead of others in reaching the end that nobody can escape. '

✧. ┊ 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗱 11. ' i wonder if you remember me as i was. sometimes i think of those days. do you? ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @primoredial-jade ) 12. ' there will come a time when we must part. i only tell you this in the hope to make easier our farewells. ' 13. ' all things end, all things burn to ash, but you, my friend, burn bright. ' 14. ' when you are near, my heart is at peace. ' 15. ' i see inside you. but you're not as twisted as i thought you'd be. '

✧. ┊ 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗶𝗰 16. ' what in the world is going on here? are you trying to flirt with me? ' 17. ' i pity you, human. you're so good, but there's so little of you left. ' 18. ' you've got enough sins on your conscience to suffer until the end of days. ' 19. ' if no one has ever told you about your fate, i will be the first. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @undermine-the-instinct ) 20. ' compassion might be the most sincere emotion a human being is capable of. '

✧. ┊ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗻𝗮 21. ‘ if you have to face emotions you wanted to keep buried, secrets you wanted to keep hidden away, and pain you wanted to forget, do you think you'll be able to accept them as your own? ’ 22. ' no matter what happens, you mustn't let go of my hand. ' 23. ' i had well beyond my share of happiness. i don't need any more. ' 24. ' i know we'll find each other. i have faith we will. ' 25. ' keep just a little bit of me in a corner of your soul. '

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 26. ' may you find your worth in the waking world. ' ┊ ⁭ bloodborne 27. ' this may sound strange, but... have i somehow changed? ' ┊ bloodborne 28. ' you can close your eyes. i'll always remain here by your side. ' ┊ persona 29. ' should you ever lose hope, should you be too weak to stand, remember that you are not alone. ' ┊ persona ➺ CLAIMED ( @auraxins ) 30. ' we all make choices, but in the end our choices make us. ' ┊ bioshock

╭┈ 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✧. ┊ 𝗮𝗴𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗱 31. ' if you can't hold it back, it's okay to cry. you're already more than enough to be loved. ' 32. ' the past is gone, the future is far away. what are you afraid of? ' 33. ' i'm always here, so don't worry too much. ' 34. ' you who sleep for your dreams, it's okay to rest. ' 35. ' forever’s something like a sand castle, you know. it comes crumbling down at the calmest of waves. '

✧. ┊ 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 + 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 36. ' you can’t carry it with you if you want to survive. ' 37. ' i’m not calling you a ghost ; just stop haunting me. ' 38. ' then i heard your heart beating ; you were in the darkness too, so i stayed in the darkness with you. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @decadentfantasy ) 39. ' you can't choose what stays and what fades away ; and i'd do anything to make you stay. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @noxtivagus ) 40. ' and the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own. '

✧. ┊ 𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗻 41. ' what we had was never enough for us, just echoes and dust. ' 42. ' but please, just hold on to me ; i've slayed these demons, they're old to me. ' 43. ' some say these things are for the best ; how are you so sure? ' 44. ' all you want so far is love, death and some kind of higher high. ' 45. ' i used to wonder what love is, but ever since you've been around, i finally think i have it figured out. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @teyvattales )

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗰𝘀 46. ' you taught me the courage of the stars before you left. ' ┊ sleeping at last 47. ' the heaviness that i hold in my heart's been crushing me. ' ┊ sleeping at last 48. ' don't bring tomorrow cause i already know i'll lose you. ' ┊ daughter 49. ' and if you're in love, then you are the lucky one. ' ┊ daughter 50. ' my love, don't look back anymore. ' ┊ rm

╭┈ 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 / 𝐩𝐨𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 ✧. ┊ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗹𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘅, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲 51. ' life is difficult, but you are loved. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @fuyuu-chan ) 52. ' sometimes i think you believe in me more than i do. ' 53. ' there is more love in this world than you could possibly imagine. ' 54. ' home isn’t always a place, is it? ' 55. ' often the hardest person to forgive is yourself. '

✧. ┊ 𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁 56. ' i shall pray that you may continue to exist somewhere, too. ' 57. ' will i ever get to meet you again? ' 58. ' i couldn't rage when i wanted to rage. i couldn't be sad when i wanted to grieve. ' 59. ' the hurt we inflicted on each other would not be erased. ' 60. ' even if you manage to save the world, you still won't be saved. '

✧. ┊ 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗲 61. ' you must know, surely you must know, it was all for you. ' 62. ' we are all fools in love. ' 63. ' i am very sorry to have caused you pain. ' 64. ' you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire and love you. ' 65. ' have a little compassion on my nerves. you tear them to pieces. '

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗮𝗯𝗲𝗹 66. ' we don’t get what we’re due, or what we’re owed, we only get what we get, and we can crumble and cry about it or we can make do. ' 67. ' if you ever saw good in me, it was only reflected from you. ' 68. ' i am not myself. i don’t think i’ve been my real self for a very long time. ' ➺ CLAIMED ( @thomine ) 69. ' if you don’t come with me now, i can’t protect you. you have to leave it all behind, and i can keep you safe. i promise i will keep you safe. ' 70. ' you’ll remember, then, that i might have saved you, that i loved you enough to try. '

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶 71. ' your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself. ' ┊ oscar wilde 72. ' the gods have been good to you. but what the gods give, they quickly take away. ' ┊ oscar wilde 73. ' i love you and i missed you and i’m so very sorry. ' ┊ shuly xóchitl cawood 74. ' nothing this intense can ever last. even the brightest stars burn out. ' ┊ gwendolyn macewen 75. ' i will tell you this. there’s no need for you to break. ' ┊ r.m. drake

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶𝗶 76. ' i will share my life with you, for good or evil, until death comes. ' ┊ agatha christie 77. ' in the whole entire world, you are the only person, the only person i love or have ever loved. ' ┊ tony kushner 78. ' i almost do not exist now and i know it ; god knows what lives in me in place of me. ' ┊ fyodor dostoevsky ➺ CLAIMED ( @ex-tenebris ) 79. ' of course we will hurt each other. but this is the very condition of existence. ' ┊ antoine de saint-exupéry 80. ' i love you– i do– but i am afraid of making that love too important. because you’re always going to leave me. we can’t deny it. you’re always going to leave. ' ┊ david levithan ➺ CLAIMED ( @aimixx )

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶𝗶𝗶 81. ' don’t fool yourself into thinking that you are going to have it all. you are not. ' ┊ joyce brothers 82. ' i will love you tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and still many more, so very many more tomorrows. ' ┊ vladimir nabokov ➺ CLAIMED ( @bloodandthestars ) 83. ' i’m a fool, but i’ll love you dear. ' ┊ bill trader` 84. ' it was nice to have you in my life while i did, good luck with everything that happens after now. ' ┊ iain thomas 85. ' you have broken down my defenses, and i don’t really resent it. ' ┊ vita sackville west ➺ CLAIMED ( @monocaelia )

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶𝘃 86. ' love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. ' ┊ james baldwin 87. ' i cannot stop you now. i cannot save you. ' ┊ amal el-mohtar & max gladstone 88. ' i love you. the most three difficult words in the world. but what else can i say? ' ┊ jeanette winterson 89. ' is there something you need? name it. it's yours. if i have it, it's yours. ' ┊ ali hazelwood 90. ' i swear i've been tender ; i've been tough when i needed to be. ' ┊ molly mccully brown

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝘃 91. ' your words are so softly spoken that no one can hear them except in deep silence. ' ┊ guigo II 92. ' tell me this will never ruin us ; god, tell me, please. ' ┊ michael wasson 93. ‘ which parts of you did you kill so you could be loved? ’ ┊ jody chan 94.' don't leave now. we have almost survived our lives. ' ┊ linda pastan 95. ' my rot is as hungry as me. & when god asks me about love, i always respond with cruelty. ' ┊ yves olade

✧. ┊ 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗰. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 ; 𝗽𝘁. 𝘃𝗶 96. ' the truth is simple, you do not die from love. you only wish you did. ' ┊ erica jong 97. ' and i'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i'd find you and i'd choose you. ' ┊ kierston white ➺ CLAIMED ( @mayaree-darling ) 98. ' i'm tired, can't think of a thing, and my sole wish is to lay my head in your lap, feel your hand on my head, and stay that way through all eternity. ' ┊ franz kafka ➺ CLAIMED ( @astrxealis ) 99. ' still, there is this terrible desire to be loved. still, there is this horror at being left behind. ' ┊ michael cunningham 100. ' i don't care, i love you anyhow. it is too late to turn you out of my heart. part of you lives here. ' ┊ anne sexton

questions? ready to send a message?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ send one here!

#my god i hope people enjoy this . i am Nervous #and it took like 8+ hours to do #but i hope it’s fun!#and that the quotes are appealing #tumblr haaaates this format so if you see smth off . no you don’t .#.: events - seraphiism’23

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inhuman-obey-me · 2 years

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Devildom Courting - part 2!

We left off a couple demons on our previous Devildom Courting post mini-stories....so here comes a follow-up of the missing demons, along with Simeon and Solomon just for fun!

Please note that we've used the same courtship practices as in the previous post, so feel free to skip straight to the story blurbs if you've already read the previous one!

(tagging those who called us out on it: @mythsofkairos @ice-icebaby)

MAMMON - Gifted Locket

A much more direct way of courtship, some demons have partaken in the tradition of gifting a locket to their intended partner.

While this might sound rather ordinary on the surface, there is something particularly special about these lockets – they are imbued with a special, intimate magic.

When one opens the locket, it pulses with the other’s heartbeat – mirroring it in real time.

It also feels warm, as if you are holding the other’s hand instead of the locket.

"What's this for?" you ask, wide-eyed as Mammon shoves a small jewelry box into your hands.

The blush on his face radiates so much heat that you can almost feel it from where you're standing. "I-it's a gift, obviously, ya dummy. C'mon, shaddup and just open it," he mumbles out, determinedly avoiding eye contact.

A similar warmth emanates gently from the glittering golden locket inside the box. As you click it open, you nearly drop it at the way the pendant suddenly starts pulsing rapidly in your hand. You catch it just before it slips off your palm though, and finally get a glance at what picture is inside.

"Mammon! Is this...?" you ask, gasping. "Our first selfie together?"

"Y-yeah," he answers, somehow becoming even redder than he already was. "Just so you remember, you know...because I was your first, okay?!"

SATAN - The Boutonniere’s Challenge

At high-class Devildom weddings, it’s common practice to serve something called a boutonniere elixir, a special kind of sparkling demonus with a single flower floating atop.

On its own, the drink tastes somewhat plain, much like any other kind of sparkling demonus.

However, if two individuals hold the chalice at the same time, even for just a moment, the cup reacts by warming up to represent the strength of their connection – the hotter it becomes, the better a match they are.

The demonus inside, in turn, also transforms, lighting up and bubbling over, and becomes infused with the taste of the flower inside.

It is considered incredible good luck for both the pair and the marrying couple when a chalice of boutonniere elixir is spilled from the abrupt searing heat.

However, due to the pain of burning their hands on the goblet, it is often referred to as the “Boutonniere’s Challenge.”

"Ah -- only one glass left, huh?" you say as you and Satan approach the table at the same time.

"Go ahead and take it," your date answers sweetly. "You haven't been to very many Devildom weddings, after all. It's a special demonus, so you should take this chance to try it."

You pick up the glass and take a sip, the flower inside gently bumping against your lips, but you can't help but feel a little bit bad. "Here, let's just share it," you insist.

To your surprise, his face gets bright red almost immediately. "Are you sure?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah, of course! Come on, we share drinks and stuff all the time at home, don't we?" you say with a smile, holding the cup out to him.

"Okay," his blush deepens as the cup begins heating up in your hand under his, "but you should know...even if it burns, I won't let go."

SIMEON - Written Story

For demons, giving someone their grimoire is the ultimate sign of trust, as it is akin to surrendering complete power to that person.

Long ago, demons sometimes actually gifted each other their grimoires as part of marriage ceremonies, though it has generally fallen out of practice at this point.

However, the sentiment of the act is still quite popular, and as a symbolic equivalent, nowadays demons will sometimes write down a story from their life as a gift to their beloved.

Especially popular is for couples to choose a story about each other, such as when they met, a special date, etc.

Simeon might be an angel, but he's been learning quite a bit of all the various demonic customs and traditions during his time in the Devildom. One that he found particularly interesting was the one that stemmed from gifting one's grimoire to their beloved -- a written story, an excerpt of their lives.

You were always surrounded by those demon brothers, and if he was to express any of his feelings towards you while in the depths of the Devildom, why not stick to local tradition?

"Could you have a look at some drafts I've been writing? I'd love to have your opinion on my latest manuscript." He gives you his gentle smile, leading you to his desk before presenting you with a page of parchment, ink scrawled across in the most beautiful handwriting you've ever seen.

"Wait, Simeon..." Your eyes widen as you read, gorgeous and poetic prose describing a memorable and eventful outing you had had with the angel. You feel your cheeks get warm as you read the romantic take of events, of you. "This is about...us?"

"It's tradition here to present a written story to another when you want to express your feelings. Like a page from a grimoire." He chuckles, hand going to the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. "I may not have a grimoire myself to offer you, but...would you accept this page of your life coming intertwined with mine?"

SOLOMON - Sharing Bloodseed Fruit

There are a few different kinds of fruits in the Devildom that can have romantic meanings when shared with someone you’re interested in.

Bloodseed fruits, which vaguely resemble human-world dragonfruits on the outside and pomegranates on the inside, are the most popular of these by far.

The number of seeds you each eat is meant to be representative of how long you will stay in love with one another.

The average bloodseed fruit has around 1,000 seeds in it, with especially large ones able to have up to 1,500 seeds.

Which of course means the demon brothers and royals aren’t going to settle for anything less than the largest ones they can possibly find to share with you.

Solomon, of course, is not demon, just your fellow human exchange student. But he's been around demons long enough to have heard of or even been recipient of, a few times various demonic courtship rituals. His favorite? Bloodseed fruits.

There's something nostalgic of his human realm in the crunch of the juicy seed pods, yet the flavor has such a delightfully unearthly sweetness to it. Plus the romantic meaning he's heard it holds? So, when Solomon gets his hands on one of these rare fruits, he knows exactly who he wants to share it with.

"Thanks for making time with me today," he smiles sweetly at you. "I had something special I wanted to share with you."

The moment you see him preparing to cast a spell to cut the fruit though, you quickly snatch it away to cut in the kitchen. You are not taking any chances with Solomon and food.

He's caught a little off-guard by your abrupt interruption, but he's happy just to be able to share this with you. After all, being able to spend hundreds of years together with another human would be a dream come true for the long-lived sorcerer. He wants to believe in it, at least.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me worldbuilding #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #demons being demons #sorry for the delay on this follow-up; things have been super busy but we're trying to get back to things now!

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washymylifeaway · 3 years

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Haikyuu fanfic recs for ones I liked hehe

EDIT: I made a pt 2

Anyway, as the title suggests, I am recommending some fanfics for popular(ish) ships that I personally really enjoyed! I’m only doing one or two fics per ship (which in hindsight is KILLING me so I’m just putting the first fics I find and am like I really liked that one LOL) because I wanted to do a shorter fic rec list (tho watch this become super long LOL). I also may or may not be procrastinating finishing a couple other long posts, so there’s that hehe. For the (kinda but not really) public consensus for best fics per ship (by kudo count) check out some of my other posts. Also I’m putting some ships I don’t actually read much of (OOPS LOL) so if you think that there’s a fic that fits my type (if I even have a consistent type) better, pls tell me LOL. Otherwise, pls continue heh :)

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading to make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) and stay healthy!

IwaOI:

The Loyalty of a Traitor by DeathBelle (E) 76.9k // ok so does me liking this fic make me basic cause I feel basic LOL. I really love mafia fics, and the way the story line developed was SO good, like IN LOVE with this story. This is a fic where you should read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY before diving in, but if the length scares you, don’t be. It’s so easy to fall in and get lost in the writing!

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (chanyeol) (T) 66.3k // again, basic? Probably LOL but it’s good so I have no shame ;) Again, pls don’t let the word count scare you (cause it scared me LOL), you get really into it after like 2 paragraphs, so just make sure you have enough time to finish hehe.

KuroKen:

Thicker Than Blood by kylar (M) 91.4k // are you surprised that there is another mafia one? You really shouldn’t be LOL. Anyway, I’ll just be here pushing my mafia fanfic agenda while you read this monster of a fic hehe :) Definitely read WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARY because there is some very sensitive topics involved! I also adore the oibokuroo friendship headcannon, so more reasons to read, right?

Liked, Commented and Subscribed by Royal Society of Pandas (Abarcelos) (T) 45.7k // this fic is SO funny omg. I read it and I had to stop so many times just to laugh because I could not stop sometimes LOL. However, there IS angst towards the end, it gets resolved, but it’s still there... But honestly, it just adds such depth and flavor to the fic, so pls read it!

BokuAka:

bang! now we're even by Authoress (M) 11.9k // so I’ll be honest, I don’t read a lot of BokuAka (...oops?) and so I wouldn’t consider myself as the best person to be recommending fics for this ship (in general too LOL).... ANyway, I love myself some good spy AUs (was gonna put that IwaOi spy AU but the LIMIT), and Akaashi in a dress? Like the tags might state, what more do you need? The characters are done beautifully, and the story development is SO good, so I give you all my humble BokuAka rec.

Crisis Converted by valiantarmor (M) 60k // man do I really love fighting in my fics LOL. This was super good and the plot itself kept me really engaged (what a twist omg). It does talk a bit about mental health issues, but it’s done so well, and they really did this AU justice!

DaiSuga:

How to Manage by SuggestiveScribe (E) 39.3k // ok so yea yea we established, I’m basic, BUT can you blame me? This might’ve been one of the first DaiSuga’s I’ve read and I have no regrets. Literally, this fic series is one of my favorites, so OF COURSE I had to add it somewhere :D Honestly, I don’t even think you need to read the first one to understand what’s going on, but I would just cause it has some funny DaiSuga moments too ;) This is explicit for PWP, so proceed with caution~~

Add New Contact by booksong (G) 8.5k // this one! It’s so cute and poor Daichi LOL. He really out here doing the most,,, Anyway, we love tech Suga, and a nice dash of snarky tsukki (LOL is he salt, yes yes he is). It’s very fluff and pine, so if you want to read Daichi having gay panic like 24/7, go right ahead LOL.

SakuAtsu:

Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) 91.2k // ummmm, haha what, another mafia AU? Me, predictable? Noooo, never..... Anyway, this one was so freakin’ good like, love it so much! It’s one of my favorite mafia AU fics, and I love the story line progression. Poor Atsumu being dragged into this mess, but it’s okay because THEY are IN LOVE. Honestly, this fic is Atsumu best boy like he is the best boy. BEST BOY.

Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (T) 20.9k // I ignored all of the other fics I LOVE in this ship (like the pain I’m in rn), but I love this fic with my whole heart. Like I have reread this fic multiple multiple times because I love it so much (tho I might’ve skipped the angst a couple of times cause I didn’t want the pain okay?). I keep coming back, and the second fic in this series is SO funny and cute and I love it here. Please read it, it’s so FREAKING good, angst and ALL.

KyouHaba:

Team Mom by All_My_Characters_Are_Dead (T) 2.7k // so as I was going through this tag (because that’s what I do LOL), I remembered this fic and I love it. Like yes Yahaba is the fear factor and yes Kyoutani is the DAD. I really like the team dynamics in this one, and the first years make me laugh pls.

Camellias by kiyala (T) 1.9k // IK you’re all like, you’re missing such great fics, like no I’m not I just made myself hate myself by limiting fics to two per,,, I love this fic and when I starting looking for this ship, it was the first one I thought of hehe. I really love magic and their interactions are so cute and the PLANTS ARE DOING THE MOST. Pls read both in the series, cause domestic KyouHaba is best KyouHaba ngl LOL. I love the plants, and if you read the second one, someone tell the trees to stop bullying Yahaba.

MatsuHana:

This gets annoying fast, Makki by Ink_stained_quills (G) 2.3k // IM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC PLS I COULD NOT STOP CRYING TEARS OF LAUGHTER. This AU needs more fics PLEASE. It was SO freakin’ funny and the other teams KILLED ME. Like how they all approached the problem differently and how some of them (KUROO) asked for help LOL. Please this is so freaking funny go read it.

boiled frogs by reginagalaxia (E) 91.5k // I told myself I was gonna put my most angsty fics on another post (which I will for my other favorite MatsuHana angst fic which I love), but this fic. Omg I saw it and I was like I have to. Literally I have to. I hate angst, but read it. It, the, plot, omg, I jjfnsfknalkjdnf ljksan. Like I’m not sure you understand. This fic. asjfjfsadnldjb. I never thought I could hate a character SO MUCH,,,, like SO MUCH. READ TAGS, WARNINGS, AND SUMMARIES because some serious stuff really goes down. Bless Iwa-chan.

SunaOsa:

Accidentally in Love by pancake_surprise (T) 19.6k // JOSE CUERVO strikes. I love this fic and all the chaos in it. The way they were supposed to be the responsible couple (of friends LOL),,, sike. This one is only a slight angst and it’s mostly love and fun :) Also technically this is no longer the first fic in the series, but I’m still putting this one cause the other one is SakuAtsu orientated hehe :)

Spring Secrets by DeathBelle (T) 3.8k // Seasons might be one of my favorite (as all things also seem to be) series of all times. I don’t like rerecommending fics I’ve already said to read, which is why I’m not yelling at you to go read a certain other fic (which is my life and blood). Anyway, this fic series is all fluff barely angst (maybe that’s why I like it) but it’s so freakin good pls read it all ahhhhhh.

Komori/Suna (what is their ship name):

I wish to live in a world by hatsuna (T) 24.8k // ok ngl this fic was so sad and relatable? Like I was like wtf why are you making me cry rn even though like I shouldn’t be? My heart? Pain. (Hotel? Trivago.) Technically, this is END GAME but the main pairing is kinda SakuAtsu???? Something of the sort, but also their relationship (Komori and Sakusa) is written so well and idk guys I think you need to read this fic rn.

Ah the two fic limit hurt me, but fear not I am making ship specific rec posts (LOL I’m so dramatic), so if you wanted more of a ship,,,, its a coming hehe. And yes I did say I’m making an angsty fic rec post, but we’ll see if it gets finished before I side-track with posts like these LOL.

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eirenical · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: 许你浮生若梦 | Xǔ Nǐ Fú Shēng Ruò Mèng | Granting You a Dreamlike Life (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Luo Fusheng/Xu Xingcheng, Luo Fusheng/Xu Rui'an Characters: Luo Fusheng, Xu Xingcheng, Xu Xingyuan, Liu Shuzhen, Luo Cheng (Granting You a Dreamlike Life), Shuang-jie, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: *cracks knuckles*, Here we go..., Rape/Non-con Elements, Rape, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Panic Attacks, Nightmares, Flashbacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety, Panic, Past Torture, Sexual Torture, Held Down, Object Insertion, Asphyxiation, Drowning, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Dissociation, sub space, (but not in a sexual way), Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Cuddling & Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Hair Washing, Bathing/Washing, hair petting, Dirty Hair, feeling dirty, Ablutophobia (Fear of Bathing), Reconciliation, Recovery, Safehouses, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, If I think of any, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts Series: Part 7 of Indefinitely

Summary:

Fusheng is finally free, and Xu Xingcheng is out from under his father's thumb... but that doesn't mean the road ahead will be easy or smooth. Fusheng has a long way to go to even find all the broken pieces, much less to begin to put them together again, with his own mind now his worst enemy. Xingcheng wants nothing more than to help, but the wrong kind of help, or the help of the wrong person, can be worse than no help at all. Fortunately, Xu Xingcheng isn't the only one with a vested interest in seeing Fusheng back on his feet, and Xu Xingyuan has more than enough strength of will to carry them all for as long as she has to, and she isn't afraid to use it.

You know the drill: further notes and detailed warnings behind the cut. ^_^

September 4, 2021: First of all, thank you all for your patience! This monster is about 22k words, so hopefully it will be worth the wait. ;D As with the last one, I'll be editing as I go, so I don't have a definite posting schedule, the whole thing IS done, so at least I can promise I won't leave you hanging. ^_~ I have five prompts left in last year's Whumptober set and I think I can finish this series off in another one or two fic... so there's a chance I'll finish it off before the next Whumptober starts? ;D (I have my eye on Wu Xie and Ershu for that one, so... watch this space? XD)

Further details about warnings and Prompt fills: This is the fic where the series most earns its major archive warning, so... here we go!

The chapter opens on a scene in prison. (This is a nightmare, but it depicts elements of real events that Fusheng remembers from the month Xingcheng was gone.) There are mentions of Xu Rui'an beating Liu Shuzhen. Fusheng hears this but doesn't witness it. Xu Rui'an then comes into his cell and rapes him. This is somewhat graphic, but not very long. If you want to skip the act itself, it starts after the sentence: "Fusheng wanted to vomit." and you can pick up again at "When Fusheng came to, there was still a heavy weight pressing him down..."

The next section includes a panic attack (when Fusheng wakes up), during which Fusheng isn't sure what's real and thinks he is still in prison. There is also a section where he has a rapid series of flashbacks to the nightmare he just had.

In the next section, Fusheng is still experiencing bursts of panic/anxiety as Xingyuan tries to help him and talk to him, and he is mostly unable to speak in return. He later escapes from his room, but not before having another flashback to what Xu Ruian had done to him. Xingcheng catches up to him just before he can leave the house and Fusheng has one final full panic attack, leading to an episode of severe dissociation before eventually coming back to himself. There are more elements of derealization here, as Fusheng is convinced that none of this is real, that Xingcheng is playing some kind of game with him. Fusheng also has a brief moment of suicidal ideation in this section.

There will be further detailed warnings on later chapters, but for now, please check the tags so you have some idea of what you're getting into!

Prompt fills: No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? (Branding, Heat Exhaustion, Fire) -- alternate used: Alt 10. Nightmares No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN (Possession, Magical Healing, Science Gone Wrong) -- alternate used: Alt. 12. Water No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO (Panic Attacks, Phobias, Paranoia) No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE (Experiment, Whipped, Left for Dead)

#eirenical.fic #granting you a dreamlike life #luo fusheng #xu xingcheng #xu xingyuan #warning: noncon #warning: rape #panic attacks #dissociation #nightmares #ptsd #rating: e #whumptober2020 #eirenical does whumptober #gyadl fanfic #ANGST AHOY

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fyeahnix · 3 years

Text

Pathfinder's Quest — Bangalore/Wraith, Voidstrike Shipping Speculation? (7/7)

I'm going to talk about my thoughts on the Apex Legends lore book in a series of smaller posts. I have a LOT of fractured thoughts on this book and it would be unnecessarily long if I were to list them out in the same post. If you want to skip to some other post because the content in this one doesn't sound interesting, please do so! I will be numbering the posts and tagging them with "nix talks apex book lore" if you'd like to follow these specific posts and "apex book spoilers" if you'd like to avoid them.

This special post will strictly be about Voidstrike speculation. Keep in mind that this is speculation with a theory based on available lore. You don't have to take this seriously, but if you ship Voidstrike in any capacity, you might want to read this. Caution that this post will be very long and will contain quite a few images from the book as well as Broken Ghost and other supporting material. Let's go!

Book Content + Supporting Material

All right. I've been waiting an entire month to write up this post. You all know by now that Voidstrike is my OTP for Apex Legends. The unfortunate problem with this ship, like some other ships in Apex, is that they have the bare minimum of interaction with each other. Even in this book that proves to be true, except for one interesting little exchange through Pathfinder...

Do you see this comment? I asked Tom Casiello, Senior Writer of Apex Legends and Target of Internet Scorn (just poking fun at his twitter bio here), about it on Twitter and this is what he said:

Yes, that's right, y'all. These two have beef. I can imagine Wraith is little pissed about the whole "headcase" thing from Season 5's Broken Ghost quest:

I mean, can you blame Wraith? Anita’s kind of an asshole in canon, if we’re being honest, so Wraith wanting to get back at her in some way makes sense. She went the fuck off on Mirage when he made a similar comment about her in the Season 6 comic posted on Twitter. What's even weirder is Anita's response when Pathfinder tells her what Wraith said:

Now. I know what you’re thinking. “Nix, it’s not that deep, Anita’s just being a sarcastic dick.” And you would likely be correct, and I would not disagree with you. On the next page, however, this exchange happens:

First of all, why would Anita ask "why would Wraith tell me anything?" Has she tried talking to Wraith before and Wraith may have been closed off and/or hesitant? Or maybe she doesn't fully trust Anita because Anita has such strong feelings about the IMC? Is she... hurt by Wraith not telling her things? Did Wraith try to open up once before, get shot down by Anita's reaction to the IMC, and Anita's been a little salty about it since, henceforth, the shitty "headcase" comment? Maybe Wraith is being a little shit and getting back at her in a weird way. This comment initially sounded vaguely flirty but what do I know except the writers haven't been known to just write things for literally no reason...

Lots to think about here, but I'm hoping we'll get a follow-up to this in-game at some point.

And second of all, why would Pathfinder ask if they're best friends? I know he has an interesting view of who he considers friends...generally people who have talked to him for more than a minute:

But a “best friend”? What would give him that assumption about these two? Is it because they have some things in common? Or has he seen them interacting more than we (the players and lorehounds) know of? Is it because of their one exchange in Broken Ghost? I don’t think so at all. Granted, right on the next page Anita calls Wraith a lab rat (pretty shitty!), but as we learn later on, she is really sensitive and defensive about people who speak badly about the IMC (more on this in my post about Bangalore). I'm thinking Path mentioning Wraith being IMC pissed her off because Wraith, overall, blames them for what happened to her.

In any case, it's an interesting question to ask, and I do have to wonder if Wraith and Anita have been seen talking to one another for more than a minute lol. But Anita's answer is intriguing. She doesn't flat out say no. We know Anita to be very direct—sarcastic, sure—but generally you'd expect a straight fucking answer from her. Here, she doesn't even give one. She beats around the bush for an answer. What I think is happening here is about the same as her talking about Octane and Mirage. Remember that loading screen from Season 3? No? Well, let me refresh your memory...

Send in the Clowns (Season 3 Loading Screen)

Numbnuts! That’s what Mama used to call guys like that. You know the type. Big jokes, big trucks, big wallets...they need all that big to cover up what’s small. I got four brothers. Real gentlemen, raised with respect. They don’t have to woo-hoo their way through a battlefield like it’s a joke and they’re the punchline. Sorry, Laughtrack. The only punchline is you’re going home in a box.

Maybe Silva isn’t so bad. He’d take a bullet for anyone… mostly ‘cause he’s already fifty paces ahead, charging in with no game plan and even less strategy. Witt’s had my back more than once. And whatever, he’s gotten a chuckle out of me. Occasionally. Maybe they’re good. For morale, I mean. I mean… I just need them to stay out of my way.

She's just... like that. Anita is the type of person who won't openly admit that she actually likes or respects anyone. She's guarded, and she's probably been this way since her brother Jackson died. And that's where Loba comes in.

See, I think Loba has been making Anita rethink some things about opening up. Anita initially pegged Loba wrong, and in her chapter, Pathfinder basically figures out that she initially hated Loba because Loba reminds her of her older brother's shitty girlfriend:

I think Loba's purpose in her and Anita's budding friendship is to eventually lead Anita to opening up to others, especially Wraith, since Path mentioned they have a lot in common, which is something I've been saying for fucking months. Now, Wraith and Anita haven't really had any interaction that we know of outside of Broken Ghost and the book, but there have been some....very minor hints/foreshadowing. I'm going to preface this by saying you may think I'm being a little...out there with these points, but trust me, we'll touch on why these matter later. For now:

Back in Season 1, both Bangalore and Wraith were the first two Legends to get Legendary skins in the Legendary Hunt themed event. First occurence is an incident.

In the Season 3 opening trailer, Caustic throws a gas canister inside a room and you can vaguely see Bangalore and Wraith in the room on the same team:

In the Legend select screen, these two were right next to each other up until they were separated in Season 6. They were together. Five. Straight. Seasons. Was there another, more subtle reason they were separated? Common sense would say no, it's because we're getting more Legends and the UI needs to change to accommodate. Shipping and speculation sense would say maybe it's metaphorical and foreshadowing a story element. Maybe something happened between them that we aren't aware of yet and they've separated.

At the end of Season 6 for the Fight or Fright Halloween event, we got a bundle of skins called the Wicked Wraith bundle. Guess who's in it? Bangalore and Wraith plus some gun skins. But only these two Legends.. Hm.. Two's a coincidence.

In Season 7, we got the Black Friday event where we got both Airship Assassin and Outland Warrior back in the shop, two beloved Wraith and Bangalore skins respectively. Three's a pattern, and with this lovely banner:

In Season 8, for the Two-Year Anniversary Event, both Bangalore and Wraith received stat trackers of their concept art... We typically only get two Legends' trackers per each event with a prize track, and we got these two for this event? I predicted back in October 2020 that they would get stat trackers in the same event, but I didn't expect this event out of everything.

If one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, then what's four very similar occurrences?

If you've read up to this point, you're either deprived for Voidstrike content like I am, or wondering just how much further I'm willing to dig for hints to support this ship. Trust me, I have a little more.

I am predicting that Anita and Wraith will start having some interaction starting Season 9 or 10. Why? Well, back at the start of Season 7, there was a Reddit AMA with the senior team members of Respawn. It was mostly to address the battlepass issue, but Manny Hagopian, the Lead Writer for Apex Legends, was also there answering questions, so I took a shot and asked him one:

You can totally chalk this up to typical “I can’t say anything right now” PR talk, sure, but I think he's hinting that this was in the plans. Tom has also said something:

Now, granted, this is Tom and mostly everyone takes whatever he says with a grain of salt, myself included, but it's worth keeping an eye on since what Manny says kind of lines up. We were supposed to get a follow-up to Broken Ghost, but that story, whatever it was, ended up being... let's say, "altered"? Tom has a thread on what actually happened on Twitter (that I did link here, but removed for fear of this post not appearing in the tags), but the follow-up was essentially "axed" and bits and pieces of it had to be kicked down the road in various different formats in the lore. What does this have to do with Season 9 and my theory?

Well, there's supposed to be some crazy stuff happening in Season 9 and I think we're going to start to see some elements pop up from what was supposed to happen in Broken Ghost. Why? Well another thing Tom said from that same Twitter thread:

I think whatever Tom was working on was related to IMC, Bangalore, and Wraith. And the reason I believe this is because of a now-deleted video from Chris Edgerly’s twitch stream from back around May 27th, 2020 or so where Tom was a guest. I unfortunately didn’t think to archive the page or video so I don’t have it, but I can say with confidence that I asked a question about Anita and Wraith having some future interaction about the IMC stuff, and the answer he gave was...suspiciously vague. He said something along the lines of:

"I just started writing something dealing with that and you should get to see it before the end of the year [2020]. And that’s all I’ll say on that :]"

I know that’s...well it doesn't say MUCH, but it is making me think that it's the same content he may have been working on. I have a feeling it may be in comic form, but who knows how the format may change. Season 9 is supposed to be fairly game-changing for Apex overall, according to the devs.

The last bit I wanted to mention was character development. I said earlier how I think Loba is helping Anita open up a bit more overall, and eventually that will turn towards others as well as Wraith. Anita, compared to other Legends, has seen character development through voice lines. And Wraith is kind of doing the same. Like sure Loba talks to Anita, but she hasn't really...progressed as a character much. She's remained fairly flat so far. We're actively seeing Anita's walls break down as she becomes more vulnerable as a person. And no one else is really doing this much except for, arguably, Wraith.

Wraith has had some very introspective voice lines to herself while on Olympus, basically wondering if the Rift explosion was a result of her experiments, wondering what type of person she was to have partnered with Singh. Wattson even mentions she looks more lost than usual, and Wraith responds that she needs to handle this on her own for now. We know from the end of Season 6's comics that she's learned she was apparently a shitty person in her past life with anger issues and a severe lack of empathy. She wonders about this and is actively working towards... not being like that lol. She's also fairly sarcastic as we've seen with her voice lines with Rampart, but she's developing as a character, albeit slowly and more subtly than Anita.

So now that that's all out of the way. Where do we go from here? Well, this brings me to a theory I've manifested due to the points in the post so far.

The Theory

What if Anita and Wraith were on pretty okay terms with each other previously and we just haven't heard about it yet? What if they’ve known each other for a while?

Anita has been in the Outlands with a small group of IMC soldiers, her brother Jackson and General Lewis included, for about 18 years. She's been in the Apex Games for about 3 years and the Hestia incident happened about 3 years ago:

That lines up. Since the start of the Apex Legends lore takes place in 2733 (as of Season 8 we are now in the year 2734 in lore), that would mean she had to have joined around 2730. What about Wraith?

Well... I think Anita and Wraith joined the Apex Games around the same time. In the book Wraith mentions that she took a few years to hone her skills before she ended up in a qualifying match:

She arrived at our Kings Canyon in 2727. If she took a few years, she had to have joined around 2730-2731. What if they met and actually were amicable? Closed-off on both ends, but mutually respectful towards each other as coworkers? And maybe this is what causes Pathfinder to assume they're "best friends" in the book.

...That is until the Repulsor incident happened and the IMC labs under Kings Canyon were eventually unearthed. Wraith learned her real name and what the IMC (ARES more specifically) did to her and so did the rest of the Legends she was somewhat close to—Mirage, Pathfinder, and...Anita.

What if Anita took the IMC disrespect personally, thought Wraith was placing blame on the IMC instead of taking responsibility for her own actions like Anita mentions in the book, and Anita blew up about it? Wraith would probably feel extremely hurt by this and withdraw from opening up even more. At this point, Anita would hold a bit of a grudge about the IMC bad-mouthing.

They continue to work as coworkers and on a team when necessary, but the mutual respect has been...lost. Wraith finds friendship elsewhere in Wattson. Fast forward to the events of Broken Ghost. Anita is stressed, annoyed, dealing with too much shit at leading the operation, and hurls an insult at Wraith, the infamous "headcase" comment. It's extremely shitty and uncalled for and while Wraith doesn't explode at her in the moment because of dire circumstances, she absolutely doesn't forget it. It hurts her deeply.

What if after the events of Broken Ghost, their connection is severed. There's some bad blood between them. Wraith's friendship grows with Wattson while Anita's friendship grows with Loba. That separation in the Legend Select screen starting from Season 6 onwards seems a lot more metaphorical...

So fast forward once again to Wraith's comment directed at Anita in the book. It was an opening Pathfinder inadvertently provided and it was an opportunity to take a jab at Anita. But instead of being overtly shitty, she makes a relatively teasing comment. Maybe an olive branch to squash what they have and move on? Anita's response is to thank Wraith when she sees her again. Sarcasm? Maybe. But what if she's being genuine? What if the comment was a joke reflective of the type of humor they shared when they were on better terms with each other?

Anita has been opening up more to Loba, and though shes's still sensitive about the IMC, what if she's more willing to...apologize for the initial shitty comment?

The Theory Continued

Anita has recently, in canon, mentioned Jackson to Loba. Jackson is a VERY sensitive topic for her, and so far, the only two people we know of who have heard her discuss Jackson are Loba and Pathfinder. An interesting thing about Jackson that can be tied back to Wraith is this:

Anita clearly does not accept the ARES Division as part of the IMC, but more than that...Jackson found out the ugly truth about the IMC overall and believed it. Wraith was part of ARES Division and it's why Anita doesn't consider her IMC. Here's where the connection can work:

Continuing the same theory, what if Wraith reminds Anita of Jackson in the worst way possible because of what he told her about the IMC and ARES? Wraith revealing her name and what happened to her conjured up old, painful memories and caused Anita to lash out and close herself off again. Now that Loba is bringing out discussions of Jackson in canon, what if this leads to Anita and Wraith coming back together and rekindling their friendship? There's a lovely quote from Jackson's letter in the book that I feel could foreshadow that happening, too:

"...But in all seriousness, I'm so proud of you. And always remember, what's broken can be fixed. What's shredded can be mended. And what's torn apart can always be put back together again. Love always, Jackson." (82)

What if eventually—slowly, but surely—rekindling this lost friendship leads to Anita opening up to Wraith again? What if it leads to Anita being open and vulnerable enough to learn more about the IMC and ARES Division with/through Wraith via the labs under Kings Canyon? That place is a goldmine of classified information and she very well can see and hear firsthand all the terrible shit they've done. It would be extremely hard to do this, of course. And that's where Manny's comment from the Reddit AMA comes into effect: "...There's much more for both characters to learn and when they do, it's very possible to experience a moment between them, but patience is important."

This is, of course, all just a theory based on what we know about the lore. Is it ridiculous? Possibly! But I also don't think it's entirely farfetched either.

In Conclusion...

I imagine once we get to Season 9—potentially 10 at the latest for quarantine padding and last-minute changes—maybe we'll start seeing them begin to acknowledge each other in some way, and I'm thinking mostly negatively at first. And I don't think it'll be a lot either. Maybe a snarky location voice line or two. Maybe a little mention in a comic or Twitter lore bit. But only a little.

I definitely do think we can expect to see them getting to the point of interacting in the future, but it'll be a slow ride and slow burn. And hey even if we don't... I'll have this post to keep me warm for the rest of my days playing Apex.

Anyway, that's all I have for you! Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I do appreciate it. I love this pairing a lot, and this was really fun to write! Remember, it's just speculation based on....stuff, haha. You don't have to take it or like it at all, but what else am I to do when I'm starved for interaction of my ship? :]

#Apex Legends #Bangalore #Wraith #Voidstrike #Bangawraith #Apex book spoilers #nix talks apex book lore

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ptergwen · 4 years

Text

truth serum

a/n: ok ok ok i've had to post this four times now because it won’t show up in tags for some reason? i’m so :/ tumblr pls stop setting me up bruh. but moving on here’s a summary of the original request and i hope ya like

warnings: little bit of cursing here and there

when tom asked if you‘d be interested in going to a comic con with him, there was only one answer: yes. you‘ll take every chance you get to see him in his element. you’re looking forward to checking out some of the cool exhibits they’ll have — and people. comic con is a safe space for all your nerdiness. so really, both of you will be in your element that day.

the only thing you’re uneasy about is tom’s fans. you have no idea how they’ll react to seeing you by his side for hours on end. paparazzi caught you together once or twice, but you couldn’t tell much from their blurry pictures. that didn’t stop everyone from talking.

you’ve been named his new “mystery girl,” and tom still hasn’t adressed the whole situation. no matter how much he loves his fans, he’s not willing to spill every single detail of his personal life. spending time with his girlfriend doesn’t need some big explanation to please the public.

this is the first time you know for sure that you’ll be seen with him. comic cons are huge, and somebody always has their phone out at these things. you don’t want the fans to end up hating you for being there, or tom for bringing you. the way he sees it, they should just be happy he’s happy. anyone who isn’t never truly cared in the first place.

tom usually arrives early to go over his schedule and any last minute details. this time, he’s sleeping in a few hours extra with you. no one knows better than him that all day events can be draining. he wants you well rested and feeling good for it. since people are already at the venue, you’re using a different entrance to avoid getting mobbed.

“stay close, okay? i’m not sure what it’s like in there yet. might be a few people by the door, or a crowd.” you’re walking hand in hand with tom through the back lot. he feels you tense up next to him at the mention of a crowd. they overwhelm the hell out of you, and you’re suddenly feeling way underprepared for this.

“but we’re going in through the back. how are they gonna know that?” you grip his hand tighter without realizing. tom half smirks at your question and leads you over to the door. “my fans figure everything out... almost everything. you ready?”

shrugging your shoulders, you lean into his side for comfort. “sort of. i’m just getting nervous about being around so many people.” “i know, baby. not gonna lie, it’s pretty scary at first. but i’ll be with you the whole time.” he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. you do feel better knowing he won’t leave you alone when you get inside.

“just try turning your nerves into excitement. it works for me every time. “i’ll do my best. i guess we can go in for real now.” tom’s thumb brushes over yours reassuringly, looking at you once more for any signs of doubt before he opens the door.

only a couple of fans notice tom is there, so it’s not as hectic as you thought it would be. he waves to them and says hi, a smile lighting up his face. you chew your lip nervously and let him take you to where he needs to be. obviously, you get a few stares. some pointing, some whispering. they’re all things that come with being pressed into tom holland in front of thousands of people.

tom brings you over to the check in area and gives both of your names. a woman with a headset on hands him two ID cards. he thanks her before pulling you aside so you two can have a moment of privacy.

“how is it so far? feeling okay?” his voice is soft unlike the yelling around you, which is nice. tom slips the lanyard with the ID over your head. “i’m getting used to it. i don’t know how you do this almost every day,” you admit, tugging on his own lanyard that he’s holding. he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“i’ll tell you what, it’s a lot easier when you’re with me,” he mumbles into your ear, using that as a way to subtly leave a kiss to the skin. the little things like that are what will keep you together throughout the day.

a man with a headset and planner comes up to tom. why are so many people wearing headsets? he reads off tom’s plans for today, then ushers the two of you over to do meet and greets once tom has everything down. tom already called and explained that you’d be joining him, so he had it arranged for you to sit with the photographer and watch.

that’s definitely going to get people curious. he doesn’t mind too much, as long as it makes the experience more comfortable for you.

“i’ll be right over here. you’ll tell me if you need anything, yeah?” tom gazes out at the long line of fans waiting to see him, meeting your eyes after. “don’t worry about me. go give your fans some hugs.” you squeeze his hand and smile to let him know you’re okay. he smiles back even bigger before going over to greet the first person they send over.

this set up is way better than what you’d expected. you get a front row seat watching tom do silly faces and poses, and he can check in with you from time to time. there’s the occasional “who is that?” or “is it true that you’re dating her?” question from someone nosy.

tom responds with something along the lines of “that’s y/n. she’s a really lovely girl. she’s super awesome,” followed by a wink only for you to see. you find yourself having to hide your blushing face from all of his antics.

after about two hours, tom gets a break from photo ops. he decides to use the time to do whatever you choose, since you’ve been watching him for a while. you just walk around until there’s an announcement that a hypnotist show is about to start, and anyone can attend. you’ve never seen people be hypnotized in person, and it sounds like it could be fun.

tom lets you pick the seats. you end up towards the front for a closer look. his hand rests on your thigh as soon as you’re both seated, missing being able to touch you all day. you lace your fingers with his and watch as the show starts.

you’re both having a good time, laughing along at all the different segments. the guy hosting it is really entertaining. “now, let’s move onto a part of the show i like to call ‘truth serum.’ it’s simple. i’ll choose a member from the audience and get them to spill their guts for all of you, about anything i ask. who shall it be?” he rubs his chin and looks around the room.

he makes eye contact with people around you. you’re regretting getting seats in the third row. you pray he won’t call you up, but that would be too convenient. “ah!” he claps his hands together, gesturing to you. your mouth runs dry. “thanks for volunteering, come on up!”

you look at tom, silently asking if you should. “go on. i kind of wanna see this,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you devilishly. clenching your jaw, you walk past him and onto the stage. the hypnotist taps a chair for you to sit. you just had to be the lucky person he chose. “can we get a round of applause for...” he holds his microphone down to you.

“y/n,” you say into it, your voice coming out shaky. there are at least two hundred people staring up at you right now. “y/n!” he repeats. “everyone put your hands together for this brave soul.” the audience claps, tom cheering the loudest among them all.

“so, y/n. you seem excited to be up here,” the man jokes. tom watches with amusement as you give an unsure smile at the audience. “is it that obvious?” you get a few laughs. maybe this won’t be the train wreck you’re anticipating.

“extremely. y/n, i want you to look at your right hand for me.” he takes a step back, you doing as he says. “focus on your fingers and how they’re curling towards you. keep focusing. notice how you’re feeling more and more relaxed.”

everything he’s saying is actually happening. wanting to remember this, tom takes out his phone and starts recording. “bring your hand over to your forehead. let yourself feel the skin to skin contact. just like that.” you’re starting to feel sleepier. “and close your eyes.” the hypnotist snaps, and there’s silence throughout the auditorium. “you’re in a deep sleep. well done.”

you’re completely passed out with your head hanging low. everyone claps again, gasping and chatting to each other. tom is one of the gaspers. “y/n, you just guzzled a whole can of truth serum. you’re an open book. you love to share. when i snap again, you’ll wake up and answer whatever i ask you. truthfully,” the hypnotist tells you.

he waits a moment, then snaps his fingers. your head immediately snaps up. more gasps. tom puts his hand over his mouth, muffling his laughter at whatever you’re about to say.

“good morning, y/n. how are you doing?” “stiff. my neck hurts a lot for some reason,” you answer honestly, rubbing the back of it. the hypnotist has a smug grin on his face. “very good. we’re going to start off with some basic questions to see where you’re at. they mirror the five senses. y/n, what’s your favorite thing to hear?”

“my boyfriend’s voice. oh my god, and he has the cutest hiccup laugh,” you clasp your hands under your chin. tom is glad his phone is hiding his face so no one can see his cheeks turning pink. “hiccup laugh?” the hypnotist makes a face. “it gets stuck in his throat sometimes. it’s actually so cute.”

“what about your favorite smell?” “oh, that’s an easy one. sandalwood.” you casually reveal to the audience. “tell us why you like sandalwood so much, y/n,” the hypnotist prompts you. “it’s the scent of shampoo my boyfriend uses.” tom practically melts when he catches on. all your favorite things so far are related to him.

“i think we should skip ahead and talk about that boyfriend of yours. you seem to really love him, huh?” “more than anything. if you were planning to ask about anything else that’s my favorite, i’d say him.” there’s a big “awwww” from the whole audience, tom included.

“isn’t that sweet? where is your boyfriend right now, y/n? i’m sure he’d want to hear this.” “he just did, he’s in the audience.” you tell the hypnotist as if he should already know. tom’s lovestruck smile fades away. he hopes the hypnotist realizes it’s too personal to make you keep talking about something like this.

you have no control over what you’re saying, and it’s not going to end well. “why don’t you point him out for us so we can give him a big round of applause?” scanning around for tom with bright eyes, you get out of your seat. you point at him. “he’s right there.”

the whole audience turns to look at who you’re pointing to. tom lowers his phone, his mouth open in shock. everyone starts shouting as soon as they notice it’s tom. you’re confused over what the big deal is, since you’re still not fully yourself. the hypnotist realizes the mess he just caused, quickly sitting you down again to bring you out of it.

“y/n, i’m going to snap again. when you wake up this time, all the truth serum will be out of your system,” he says just to you over the noise, tom sinking down in his seat to avoid questions. the man snaps his fingers. there’s silence like the first time, everyone waiting to see what you’ll say.

you have no memory of anything that happened a few seconds ago. all the eyes on you are freaking you out. “wh- what did i say?” you ask him, biting down hard on your lip. his eyes dart over to tom. he speaks to you without the microphone. “you told the audience about your boyfriend.” it takes a second for you to register what he said. then you see tom down low in his chair, and you’re humiliated.

for yourself, but mostly him. you can’t believe you exposed your relationship in front of all these people. you run off the stage and out of the auditoruim, too embarrassed to say anything else. tom doesn’t hesitate to chase after you.

you’re breathing hard and fast, stopping somewhere there aren’t too many people around. your mind is racing while you try to figure out what’s going to happen next. someone puts a hand on your shoulder. it’s tom. he turns you around to face him.

“fuck, i- i’m so sorry. i don’t know what was going through my head, i shouldn’t have talked about any of that stuff. this is gonna be a nightmare for you,” you spit out all at once. tom only pulls you to his chest. he rubs circles around your back, trying to calm you down.

“it’s not your fault, angel. you didn’t have a choice about saying those things. you know that, right?” huffing, you hide your face in tom’s chest. “but still. i exposed us and i exposed you and now everyone knows something you didn’t want them to. you should hate me right now.” his lips press into a deep frown at what you’re saying. he rests his chin on your head and sighs.

“baby, i’m not mad. the only reason i wanted us to be a secret was for you.” you look up at him hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “so i didn’t destroy your whole career in two seconds?” “of course not. there have been way worse things i’ve had to deal with than publicly dating my really lovely, super awesome girlfriend. this won’t be easy, but i promise we’ll get through it together.”

you cheer up a bit hearing him repeat his words from earlier, nodding as you let yourself process everything.

“do you think anyone got me on video? or will they just post about what i said and everyone will believe them?” “i personally recorded the whole thing. not sure about the rest of the audience though,” tom proudly admits to you, making you groan into his chest. “great. that means we should probably say something before the twisted versions of the story come out,” you reason.

he considers it for a moment, and you can see when a lightbulb go off in his head. “what if i officially introduce you to some fans at my next round of photo ops? tell them about us, see how it goes. then we can decide what our next move is.”

it’s a huge relief that he’s taking this slow and giving you a say on how to go public. feeling brave, you peck his lips as a thank you. he’s surprised at first, but kisses back. he can finally see why those annoying pda couples exist. his arm takes its place around your shoulders again, yours going around his waist this time.

“let’s go share our not so secret relationship with the world.”

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florencecastlewritings · 4 years

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Writing Dialogue

Below the read more is a lesson on writing effective dialogue in fiction. As with everything in art, rules are there to be broken, so please do treat the below lesson as a guideline rather than a legal document, and remember that it is based on what works for me as well as advice I have received from other writers. It might not match your style, and that’s all right. It’s also a very lengthy blog post, but I have used headings to try and break it up and there’s a little contents of sorts at the start, so feel free to skim/skip where needed.

If you do find it useful, however, please consider helping me through a tricky time by sending a few pennies my way via ko-fi.

Dialogue is the written speech of your characters in your story. For some people, writing effective dialogue comes naturally, for others it feels almost impossible to master. It is worth considering, as well, the differences in dialogue for different kinds of media - in screenwriting, for example, a writer will be able to rely more heavily on actors’ expression, comic timing, body language and other effects such as music. However they will also be constrained by shorter time, more need for unnatural exposition, and lack of internal thoughts. The following lesson will focus on dialogue in fiction - for short stories or novels - although some rules will be applicable to dialogue in other mediums too, so they’re worth keeping in mind.

The Purpose of Dialogue

Dialogue should:

Progress the story

Deepen character and relationship

Have realism

Be embellished/supported with suitable dialogue tags and appropriate narration.

Easier said than done. Let’s take them one at a time.

Progress the story

As with most writing, the writer needs to be constantly asking herself ‘what is the point?’ Why am I having my characters say/do/notice this? It may be to deepen character and relationship (and we’ll get onto that), but for longer stories we must acknowledge that the dialogue needs to move the plot along as well, as much as we might want to indulge in a bit of pointless fluff now and then.

Dialogue can drive the plot in a more engaging and exciting way than plain narration. Narration on its own can be effective at building tension, but usually only in small doses, and having many pages of narration without dialogue or internal thought will feel more like a summary of events or a witness statement than the author would perhaps like. Consider the below:

Breakfast was tense that morning. They ate silently as they pondered what to do. Michael buttering his toast so aggressively that it was surprising that the knife didn’t go through it. Susan asked him to stop, but that only started the arguing again. He accused her of expecting him to get over the affair so quickly. She threw back that there was nothing left to say if he refused to get therapy, and she had warned him for years that things had to change, and that it had been one foolish night in twenty years of unhappy marriage. She, Susan insisted, had excused plenty of foolish mistakes on his part.

Compared to:

‘Will you stop that?’ she said sharply. Michael did not pause in the furious buttering of his toast. ‘I said I was sorry.’

‘What, you say the magic word and I’m meant to shrug it off?’ he replied. ‘Pretend it never happened? Pretend you didn’t-’

‘You’ve made your anger perfectly clear, and I understand, but you don’t need to be so aggressive with everything, I get it.’

‘Oh, here we go. Buttering toast is aggressive now.’

‘Well, yes, like that - I’ve tried to talk to you like a grown up, but-’

‘It really bloody winds me up when you just say insane stuff patiently and without emotion and think that makes it acceptable, d’you know that? I’m allowed to be angry, you cheated.’

I could continue. The first example can pack a lot more information in, but using dialogue to drive the plot makes for more interesting and deeper meaning. It turns it into a story, rather than an account of events that occurred. It allows the writer to layer the plot with character work and unlock the story a little at a time.

In this regard, it is good to have your characters talking. To each other, to themselves, to the reader - whatever your particular style demands. Having that personable voice is engaging.

There are a few “rules” to keep in mind in order to ensure you remain plot-focused with your dialogue:

Avoid small talk. Enter late, leave early. Naturally there are exceptions (if you want to emphasise the awkwardness of a relationship between two characters you might want to include some failed attempts at small talk), but the usual chit-chat and extended greetings that we are used to saying in every day life can normally be skipped or avoided. You don’t need to have lots of ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I’m fine thanks, you?’ ‘Fine, cheers. Have you seen the rain?’ Your characters are allowed to just get to the point and your reader will thank you for it.

Have characters on their own thought trajectories. This is a great way of driving the plot, and though it can be tricky to master it can really help in making your characters believable individuals as well as creating some conflict. If characters know each other, or both know the topic, they will likely jump ahead, make assumptions, fail to answer each other directly - this can be a great way of showing that they’re on the same wavelength, but can also be a vehicle for miscommunications and misunderstandings, or deliberately misleading one another. In that vein, don’t have the characters telling each other things they already know, unless made to sound believable.

Similarly, don’t have characters say things solely for the benefit of the reader. This is called exposition, and while exposition is necessary, it can be clumsily handled in dialogue. It’s made fun of frequently in films where they have such limited time to get background information across. You definitely don’t want dialogue like ‘So, Michael, it’s been three years since your divorce, have you thought about dating again?’ Michael knows this, his insensitive friend knows this, the reader is not stupid and knows that it’s not natural sounding. If it must be said in dialogue, weave it into a more natural conversation - ‘I haven’t been to Ibiza in three years, and I don’t plan on going back any time soon. Don’t want to run the risk of bumping into Susan and Jorge.’

We’ll get onto weaving it in with narration and dialogue tags later, which makes that a lot easier, but, in short, use dialogue to drive your story.

Deepen character and relationship

This is my favourite thing to do, and why I often prefer to write shorter stories than longer ones. A writer can find great joy in bringing a character to life through dialogue, dragging them away from plot vehicles and making them people of their own.

Firstly, it’s important to remember that your character’s background and personality will affect the way that they speak. If all your characters sound the same, they probably sound like you! A well educated character will obviously have a different way of talking than a common street urchin, but everyone has quirks and patterns to their speech that you can use to say a lot. You might use long meandering sentences with lots of rhetorical questions for a character known to be boring, for example. You might use short, sharp sentences for a character that’s grumpy or distracted with some deeper internal struggle. You can use the way two characters talk to each other to say a lot about their relationship and power dynamic, especially if you remember that good dialogue should have subtext (what isn’t being said being important).

A good example of this is from the short story Hills Like White Elephants, by Ernest Hemmingway (CW; indirect discussion of abortion). Consider the short passage below.

‘It’s really an awfully simple operation, Jig,’ the man said. ‘It’s not really an operation at all.

The girl looked at the ground the table legs rested on.

‘I know you wouldn’t mind it, Jig. It’s not really anything. It’s just to let the air in.’

The girl did not say anything.

‘I’ll go with you and I’ll stay with you all the time. They just let the air in and then it’s all perfectly natural.’

‘Then what will we do afterward?’

‘We’ll be fine afterward. Just like we were before.’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘That’s the only thing that bothers us. It’s the only thing that’s made us unhappy.’

The girl looked at the bead curtain, put her hand out and took hold of two of the strings of beads. ‘And you think then we’ll be all right and be happy.’

It’s a really interesting story that is almost entirely dialogue, so it’s well worth reading to get a good sense of using subtext. I wasn’t aware of the abortion connotations when I first read it because I hadn’t heard of the very dated term ‘letting the air in’, but really the story is great at demonstrating the uneven power dynamic between the two even without knowledge of what the operation is. Without much description (though ‘man’ and ‘girl’ says it all really, doesn’t it?), you get a sense that a much older man is persuading this reluctant girl into this act by leveraging how hopelessly in love she is with him, though he does not seem to feel the same way. He speaks most when he is trying to persuade her - the rest of the time he is snappish and short with her childish and ignorant questions about the world around them. The above passage is the only time in the story where he refers to her by a name, and we can gather that it’s a pet one. The girl’s silence says as much as her dialogue, and when she does speak it is questioning - looking to him for authority.

Understanding character motivations and background is what makes this masterful use of dialogue. It would be tempting, for a novice writer, to have the girl argue. For her to say something like ‘what if we could be happy without it?’ But where that should be, there is silence, or repeating his thoughts back to him - because Hemmingway is not only driving the story but emphasising the imbalance of their relationship and her own naive nature. She would not argue with him, she can only wish that he will change his mind. This is all through dialogue and a tiny bit of narration, barely any dialogue tags, and really says so much without saying it at all. Show vs tell is about more than description after all.

That kind of depth when it comes to writing dialogue is... really hard. I haven’t picked Hemmingway to suggest that this is the quality all writing should be at, and I certainly don’t mean to intimidate anyone. But it really is a golden example of thinking about your dialogue within the context of the character, and how their background, situation, and goals will affect how they respond and react to those around them. Your character may not always be able to say what is convenient for you, the author, to tell the reader, because it may not be in their nature or sound authentic. But there are clever ways around that and it can make for more powerful writing, between the lines of what is said.

Have realism

If you skipped down to this bit, I understand. It’s the area that people most often struggle with. I find that people tend to fall into two traps here - either their characters sound like robots because they are over formal and have too much emphasis on being grammatically correct or over eloquent at the expense of natural dialogue, OR they swing in the other direction and try to replicate perfectly how people speak in day to day life.

If you do have a problem with stilted dialogue, it is a good idea to listen to how people naturally speak and try typing it out to get yourself out of the habit. But on the whole, the way people normally speak actually doesn’t sound that great in written format. In real life, we use lots of filler words, we get muddled, we go off on tangents, we trail off, we stutter and stammer and phrase things badly, we um and ah and say far more with our body language and expression than we realise. If you ever read transcripts, from interviews or courts, you’ll see how much of it actually doesn’t make a lot of sense. Our brains make sense of it when we listen to others, based on other parts of communication. Yes, sometimes adding in a ‘er...’ is beneficial and good, and you might have a really nice character moment of someone anxious trailing off when they realise no one is listening to them. Sprinkling those moments in can absolutely make your dialogue sound more authentic, especially when carefully used with character knowledge, but be careful not to over use it. In written dialogue, our characters can and should be more articulate and quicker to formulate their thoughts than in real life for the sake of the story. Striking that balance between overly structured and too real and easy can be really hard, but it only comes with practice - reading dialogue out loud can be a big help, as can writing the dialogue first with no narration or speech tags (more on that later).

Some common mistakes when it comes to dialogue:

Having one character speak too long without a break. Monologues are tough to get through as a reader and don’t come up often in real life in any meaningful way. They can end up cheesy or exposition heavy. Occasionally you can get away with it with very particular characters, but in general, avoid.

Over use of names. It’s really distracting as a reader if dialogue is constantly like, ‘what do you think, Harry?’ ‘Charlie, I just don’t know.’ ‘Really, Harry, you need to decide if you’re going to marry her or not.’ ‘I know, you’re right, Charlie.’ Use names to get someone’s attention and then don’t use them again unless you need to make it clear to the reader who the character is talking to.

Not using contractions. Even very formal people use contractions such as don’t and won’t, it is part of natural rapid speech. Save the ‘do not’ and ‘will not’s for when the emphasis is really needed.

Having characters speak in unison. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes this can be used to hilarious effect and can always be used for a bit of comedy. But on the whole people don’t do this, including twins.

Misuse of slang or dialects. If you’re going to use it, make sure you do your research. It’s also worth bearing in mind that if you over use it, it will be hard for the reader to understand and may break immersion.

Over explain for the reader. I mentioned this before but it’s worth repeating. If you went outside right now and saw a UFO, you would probably shout something along the lines of ‘wtf is that?’, and you would perhaps point or scramble for your potato to take a shaky video. You would probably not shout, ‘look at flying saucer! I’ve never seen anything like it!’ Think carefully about realistic reactions, even if they are not particularly convenient to you as a writer.

Over use of exclamation marks/caps lock. People aren’t that vibrant and it’s tiring to read. The less you use it, the more punch it packs.

Using narration and dialogue tags

First, a quick grammar lesson. Sorry.

‘This is some speech.’

‘This is also some speech,’ said the character.

‘Is this also speech?’ asked another.

‘Well,’ said the first, ‘yes.’

‘Brilliant,’ said the other. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’

I use single quotation marks because I’m British and annoying, the conventional double quote marks the Americans use (”like this!”) is also correct. The only important thing is that you pick one and stick to it. Quotation marks always surround the words that are being spoken aloud, and must be opened and closed. Where the sentence ends, you must use a full stop (period), or another piece of punctuation like a question or exclamation mark before closing the speech with the marks.

Where there is a dialogue tag (he said/said/replied, etc), the sentence is continuing, so a comma is more appropriate (but you can also use a question/exclamation mark and the sentence still continues), and again this must go before the speech marks close the dialogue. If you want to continue the sentence with the dialogue tag in the middle, you can continue by using another comma, or you can end the sentence with a full stop and continue the dialogue as a new sentence.

Use a new line for a new character speaking.

Phew, that’s over so you can pay attention again. But unfortunately I still have more to say.

Here is a fun little exercise. Take the below dialogue between two characters, A and B.

‘Do you love me?’

‘You’re drunk.’

‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

‘Sit down. I’ll make you a tea.’

‘I don’t want tea, I want an answer! Tell me!’

The dialogue alone already tells us a bit of a story - a picture is probably already forming in your head, perhaps of the characters, perhaps of the setting. As it stands it’s ok, and if you struggle with dialogue it can be effective to write only the dialogue out in this way (this tip from my writing teacher also helped me cut down on purple prose!). But now look at the scene:

It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, that Alex was woken at 3am by repeated bangs on the floor and shouts through the letterbox. Nothing else would have made her rise from bed. If she had suspected even for a moment that it was anyone else, she would have called the police.

But as usual, it was Sam. Blonde, tousled hair a mess, eye make up smudged, pouting lips trembling as she swayed.

‘Do you love me?’

‘You’re drunk,’ said Alex, wincing as Sam’s grey eyes shone with tears. ‘You’d better come in.’

‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

Alex ignored her, pulled her in by her slender arm. ‘Sit down. I’ll make you a tea.’

‘I don’t want tea. I want an answer. Tell me!’ Sam’s voice was loud and high, and it pierced her.

So, we haven’t actually added that much narration or dialogue tags (t’s best, if you can, to avoid using them too much), but we’re able to give a clearer picture of these two characters. You may even now be reading the dialogue in a different tone to the one you originally did - picturing the scene with a different feel. Not convinced? How about now?

Yet again, as had happened dozens of bloody times before, Alex was woken at 3am by incoherent, slurred shouting through the letterbox.

‘Do you love me?’ was Sam’s immediate demand as Alex wearily opened the door.

Alex rubbed her hand over her bleary eyes and sighed. ‘You’re drunk. You’d better come in.’

Sam turned on the tears at once, mascara running in thick, spidery lines down her blotchy cheeks. ‘Why won’t you answer the question?’

‘Sit down,’ Alex muttered. ‘I’ll make you a tea.’ She stood aside and jerked her head towards the living room.

‘I don’t want tea, I want an answer! Tell me!’

Wincing once more at her piercing shriek, Alex closed her eyes.

The very same dialogue can be shaped by carefully worded narration and dialogue tags. It’s a fun exercise to do with writing buddies - all use the same dialogue and see how different the stories come out. It can also be a pretty nifty way to challenge writers block or shake up a scene you’re struggling with.

Some extra tips from my writing teacher - I fully confess that I am not always the best at following these ones, because my writing has been heavily influenced by JK Rowling who also doesn’t seem to set much store by them. But they are good, and since I’ve kept them in mind my writing has improved.

Avoid overuse of adverbs (’she said nervously’). Use action or dialogue alone to convey this information instead.

Avoid overuse of verbs besides ‘said’. The reader will skim over said and barely notice it, if every character is whispering and muttering and shouting all the time it stilts the flow of the scene - use sparingly.

Use tags when necessary to ensure clarity as to who is speaking, otherwise let the dialogue stand for itself.

Use internal thoughts in place of speech tags sometimes.

Use action beats (’he turned to stare coldly out of the window’) in place of speech tags sometimes to help set the pace of the scene.

I hope this very lengthy post has helped! Please do get in touch if you have any further questions or would like any elaborations on anything I’ve mentioned here, or if you have suggestions for future lessons!

Lastly, I hate to do this but times must - if you have even just a couple of quid to send my way it would be a massive help to me. If you did find this useful, please consider donating to my kofi.

#Writing advice #writing lessons #writing dialogue

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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Joining His Pack: Burning

Description: Sanctuary Series: Joining His Pack. It feels like time is running out and you and Namjoon still haven’t found a proper den.

Warnings:

Posted: 04/20/2020

Tags: Hybrid Namjoon, Wolf Hybrid Namjoon, Wolf Hybrid Reader

I don’t even know what genre this is: 3,503 words

A/N: Oof.

Previous Part.

You looked around, but there was this feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Rationally, it was everything you and Namjoon wanted.

Irrationally, it wasn’t the right place. Not for you, not for your pups.

“Y/n?” Jimin asked, looking a little worried. “What do you think?”

“I know…I know it checks all of our boxes,” You started, speaking slowly and measuring your words, “and it’s a very beautiful house.”

“You don’t like it,” Namjoon said bluntly, not looking surprised.

“I don’t understand why, though. It’s perfect in all rationality, but every time I think about our life here…it feels wrong.” You whined along with the words, distressed at what you couldn’t decipher within yourself.

Jimin’s ear flicked and he stepped back as Namjoon hurried to your side. “Um, I’ll step outside and let you two talk.”

“I’m sorry,” You said, tears brimming.

Namjoon quickly folded you into his arms. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. He understands.”

Jimin nodded, smiling a little before ducking out the back door and closing it.

“I don’t,” You sobbed out, tucking into his shoulder.

Namjoon let out a thoughtful hum. “We’ll find a place that will check all of our boxes that you feel comfortable in, I promise. It’s okay if this place doesn’t feel right to you. But can we keep it on the list in case we don’t find anything better?”

You nodded, sniffling and trying to get control of yourself. “I just feel so bad! Jimin’s been working so hard and I can’t settle on anything.”

“It’s okay, y/n.”

“He probably thinks I hate him and I’m trying to make his life difficult,” You squeaked.

“He doesn’t think that, baby.”

“I’m a terrible mate,” You wailed.

“Omega,” He said, his voice dangerously deep.

You gasped, falling into silence, holding your breath and tearing up even more.

He pulled away and wiped the tears from your face. “Enough of that. You’re not a terrible mate, nor will you ever be a terrible mate. You’re wonderful. I think we should get you home, though. You’re going through the preheat hormones again, and you won’t be able to settle on a den in this state. We’ll go back to one of our places and make a nice nest and cuddle for the rest of the evening, okay?”

“Alpha?” You whispered.

His gaze was gentle, and loving as he gentle wiped more tears from your cheeks. “It’s okay, omega. I’ll take care of you.”

The door opened again, and Jimin came in on the phone, but he looked nervous.

Namjoon pulled you back into his arms, a little protective, but mostly comforting. “I think we need to be done, Jimin.”

Jimin hung up after a quick farewell. He hesitated when about to say something, then cleared his throat. “There’s one more place. We can’t get into it any other day of the week. It needs some cleaning up, and most of the windows need to be replaced, but…it’s the one I really wanted to show you guys. It had a sort of vibe to it that I thought you would like, hyung. I wouldn’t normally insist, but—”

“Okay,” You said. The distress had started waning with Namjoon’s ministrations, and you were starting to be able to think clearly again. As long as nothing set you off there, you would be okay. Just in need of extra sleep. You’d been struggling with preheat hormones for a week now, and preheat symptoms for two weeks—which included making nests every night, insisting on getting scented by your alpha at strange times in the day (getting you in trouble at work when you just randomly skipped out), food hoarding, and even more clothing snatching.

You were worse when Namjoon couldn’t stay the night with you, sometimes unable to even get out of bed because all rational thought had left you and all you could focus on was that your alpha hadn’t spent the night with you. He called every morning he didn’t stay with you after the first three times that had happened. And house hunting had been an absolute nightmare.

Namjoon guided your eyes to meet his. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, blinking. “Yeah, it’s fading again. As long as I don’t get upset again, I should be semi-rational.”

Namjoon nodded slowly in return. “Okay. Okay, Chim. Let’s go.”

“Here’s the address.”

The three of you headed out, you and Namjoon in his car, and Jimin in his.

“You’re getting worse,” Namjoon murmured quietly, worry clear in the profile of his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, baby. It’s not like you can help it. I’m just worried about you. Look, I can rework my finances so that you can afford to quit that job. You can move into my apartment until we do find a place for us, and then we won’t both be paying for a place. I know you wanted to keep your place, but…nights and mornings are the worst for you—”

“And you can’t sleep when you stay with me, I know.”

He winced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. We’ll talk about it after we see this house.” You closed your eyes, trying to ignore that weir prickly feeling under your skin.

He reached over and took your hand, squeezing it.

“Besides, Jimin did say this was the one he really wanted to show us. Maybe it will be the one.” You curled in your seat at the uncomfortable pain in your abdomen. “It’s like cramps now. Whyyyyyy….”

“I think there’s still some ibuprofen in the glove box.”

You paused, then looked in there, finding a bottle. “You’re the best mate ever.”

“You put it in there.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure that was me?”

“You told me that if we were going to be mates, then I should have some emergency stuff for you and you put that in there.” He smiled, but you could see the worry in his gaze.

You frowned. “I don’t remember that. It’s probably just the preheat hormones getting to my head. I don’t really even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.”

“Jimin brought muffins, you ate a blueberry and a cranberry muffin, and then you also had a hashbrown.”

You blinked. “Oh yeah. Those were good muffins.”

“I think they’re still in the back seat if you’re hungry.”

You shook your head. “Too cramp-y.”

“Better than feverish,” He murmured, glancing over at you. Then his eyes widened as he looked ahead. “Hey, baby, look at that.”

You didn’t remember him turning down the driveway, but sitting in front of you was a house that was situated in the perfect yard. It definitely needed work. Most of the windows were broken or looked like they were damaged, and the porch looked like it was sinking in one corner.

But it looked solid.

You got out of the car in a daze, breathing in the air to determine whether you liked the smell of the area.

Namjoon took your hand and squeezed it.

“Like I said, it needs some work, but I think it’s one of the best options on the market and it has all of the elements you guys listed. And it has four bedrooms. It’s slightly bigger than what you guys said, but it has a new furnace and water heater and the roof and foundation are both in good shape. And it has a fireplace and a wood-burning stove. And is ten minutes from Micheal’s, twelve minutes from Jin’s, and twenty-five minutes from town. A little further than the other places we looked at, but the trees here….”

“They’re wonderful,” You whispered. “Is that a Christmas tree farm?!”

“Yeah, that comes with the property,” Jimin said. “I mean, it wasn’t commercial or anything, but they did use them for their own Christmas trees.”

Namjoon smiled as you bounced a bit with excitement. “Better show us the inside, Jimin-ah.”

“Right,” He said, leading the way up and into the house.

Namjoon was still talking to Jimin about something or other after touring the house.

You were thinking about where to put the furniture.

“Baby, what do you think?” Namjoon called over.

“I think the couch would look good against that wall,” You murmured, still staring at the wall.

There wasn’t a response, so you looked up.

“Do you think it won’t, alpha?” You asked, head tilted.

They both looked amused and you weren’t really sure why.

“Yeah, I think she wants this place,” Namjoon finally said.

“I’ll put in an offer as soon as I get back to the office,” Jimin replied, looking pleased and proud. “From what I know most people have been overlooking this one, so it’ll probably go through quickly.”

You bounced over to Namjoon, taking his hands. “I love it. I really really love it.” You were struggling with resisting the urge to try and nest already. “But we need to leave before I can’t.”

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side where you very happily wrapped around him and tucked your nose up to his neck so you could smell him. “Alright, let’s get you back to my place.”

Jimin led the way out.

You were loath to leave the house, but the way Namjoon’s fingers rubbed on your hip was satisfying enough to move you to the car. “Where in your place?”

“Bed, you’re getting really warm, omega. We’re gonna get you a temporary nest going, and we’ll get you comfy,” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“With you?”

He hummed. “I need to do some work when I get home.”

You pouted.

He kissed your forehead. “If I get it done quickly, then we can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” You asked, trailing a hand along his stomach.

He chuckled. “Anything within reason.”

You pouted. “No romps?”

“I did not say that,” He huffed, pressing a couple more kisses to your face and then helping you into the car, peeling your fingers off of his wrist while you whined and whimpered in protest. “Have to drive, baby.”

You started feeling worse as the drive went on, but not in a preheat or heat way. Your throat was feeling scratchy and you were starting to have some sinus drainage.

You flinched when he turned into a pharmacy. “Why are we here?”

“Because I needed to check on you. You weren’t responding, baby. I think you’ve got a cold.” He felt your cheeks and forehead, then reached in the back and grabbed one of the blankets. “Here. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get you some stuff for your cold.”

“Does this mean no romp?”

“Sorry, babe.” He got out and headed into the pharmacy.

You gathered the blanket up and buried your face in it. It smelled like both of you, and you did your best to drown your senses in it.

“Baby? Y/n? Come on, we’re here,” He said, pulling the blanket from your face.

You blinked. “What?” You looked up and past him and the car was in the parking lot for his apartment.

He looked worried, and he had a bag from the drugstore hanging from his arm.

You coughed a bit. “I haven’t been this sick since I was little,” You murmured, shaking your head a bit to try and clear it.

“I had Jungkook meet us. I can’t carry you with my shoulder the way it is.” He stroked your hair gently. “I don’t want you walking like this.”

You nodded, finally scenting Jungkook.

The bunny gave you a soft smile, but you honestly don’t remember much of him carrying you upstairs, until he was setting you down on the bed and Namjoon was sticking a thermometer in your mouth.

“Maybe you should have taken her to the doctor, hyung,” Jungkook whispered.

“Her fever isn’t that high, it’s just because it’s mixing with her preheat symptoms. I’ll take her in if she gets worse, but she hasn’t even taken medicine yet. See, she barely has a fever.”

“Alright, just call me if you need help moving her again.”

“Thanks, Jungkook.” Gently hands caressed your cheeks, and then he helped you sit up. “Need to give you some medicine, baby, then you can sleep.”

You complied with a small whine, curling into him afterward to sink into slumber while he did what he could to form a nest around both of you.

———

“Y/n?”

You tossed and turned, scrambling to try and get comfortable. You shoved the blanket, but it wasn’t right either.

“Y/n?” Namjoon called again.

You tore at your tail, screeching at the unbearable heat.

“Oh my—” Hands grabbed at yours, holding them tightly, pushing them to your chest. “Oh man. Oh man.”

You screamed weakly.

“You’re burning up, holy f—”

You fought against the hands holding onto you, holding you still. You needed to get away from the unbearable heat.

“Omega,” He ordered lowly.

You keened, growing still at his order but feeling like you were burning alive.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m going to take care of—”

A loud pounding sound, followed by a crash, and suddenly there were many foreign scents that you didn’t want in your nest and sounds and people.

Namjoon growled and snarled, but they still came and brought you to your feet.

“Stop! She’s sick!” He demanded.

You wobbled, but were kept upright by the officers.

“Y/n, you’re under arrest,” One of them said, then continued, probably reading you your rights or something, and then they were dragging you out of Namjoon’s apartment as he protested and tried to protect you.

And you were still burning up, almost puking in the elevator, unable to keep your feet under you.

But you sort of blacked out somewhere, in the car or before the car.

And woke up in a holding cell. A very secure one.

You felt terrible, and you could recognize the uncomfortable feeling to heat suppressants.

“Y/n,” Namjoon said at the same moment he opened teh door, rushing in and wrapping you in his arms.

You whimpered and nuzzled into him. “This is because of her, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if they take me away?”

He shook his head. “We won’t let them.”

“How are we going to stop them, Namjoon? They already took my independence. They can legally send me back to her.”

“I won’t let them take you. You’re mine. My mate. You’re going to bear our pups, and live with me forever in our den.” He held you tighter.

You whimpered, tucking into the safety of his arms. You still feel the burn of your heat trying to sear through, barely repressed by the drugs that the police had given you. “Hurts Joonie.”

“I know, baby.” He gave you another gentle squeeze. “I know you’re in pain. You should be safe in a den, nestled in our nest.”

You made a crooning noise that had a high-pitched whine underlying it.

“I called Emma and Micheal. They’ll know what to do. We’ll get you home.” There was a waver in his voice that spoke more of his anger than of fear.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re sick and in heat,” He argued. “And those suppressants are going to make you even more sick.”

You whimpered, rubbing your face against his shoulder as the distress became evident in his voice.

He held you tighter, rubbing your shoulder.

“Time’s up.”

You gripped him, making distressed sounds.

“If I let go she might go crazy,” You heard Namjoon say. “She’s sick and in heat. I’m her mate. I have every right to stay with her.”

“No, you don’t. Please step away—”

“Don’t do anything of the sort,” Emma snapped. “Or was can press charges against this officer for breaking the law. You, sir, may remove yourself. Section 306Q, subsection 5167B states that any legal actions involving a hybrid in heat or considerable distress are to be postponed until the heat has passed or the source of distress has been neutralized, and during all of this the hybrid’s mate is allowed to remain with the hybrid in question until a later hearing date has been set for after the heat has passed and someone has posted bail I have posted bail, and we should have a new court date in about five minutes. So, sir, I suggest you let her go before I charge you for every law and right you just violated and denied.”

Your pack matron was the best.

Namjoon guided you from the holding cell.

The other officers looked terrified of your pack matron, or perhaps they were ashamed. You wondered how long she had been there chewing them out.

Micheal was talking with a man in a suit, and someone who must have been the chief of police.

Emma told you and Namjoon to wait there while she went over and talked with the strangers.

Whatever they were saying seemed to be agreeable to her, and she shook their hands before coming back over. “Come on.”

Namjoon was practically carrying you at that point, not completely since his shoulder was hurt.

You felt ill. You were beginning to burn again, and you were extremely nauseous. Starting to unconsciously whimper.

“They gave her suppressants,” Namjoon told her, and his concern made you whine.

“That’s why we’re going to the Sanctuary hospital. She’ll be safer there and you’ll be able to stay with her. The case won’t hold since they broke laws and arrested her without a warrant. Our lawyers will crush them and rake them over the coals if they try anything else,” Emma said, sounding so casual about it.

“What’s going on?” You asked through clenched teeth. “Why did they arrest me?”

“Honestly, I think the deputy called for your arrest to sabotage their case, but they said you had several charges. Micheal is getting the paperwork with the lawyer and we’ll talk to you about it when you’re feeling better.” Emma’s tone changed to a motherly one, gently and caring. “There are blankets and Jin went to pack bags for both of you.”

You nuzzled into Namjoon’s shoulder, grateful for his pack. Your pack. You felt so well-looked after and protected—even if you felt like hell.

But your fever rose, and you didn’t remember getting to the hospital, or getting treated, but you were now forming the back of a nest and growling at the tubes from the IV when they got tangled in your nesting materials. You were aware of one of the pack pups sleeping toward the front of the nest, and you checked on her now since the pup was wiggling now.

Satisfied that she was still asleep, you tucked up next to her to wait for your pack to return and kept a careful eye on the three pups that were reading together outside of the nest.

You weren’t necessarily worried about the missing pup, something told you he was safe with his parents.

Pack matron returned, gathering her pups softly while the pack leader carefully took the pup that was napping in the nest with you while still holding the other smallest pup.

Your soon-to-be-official mate entered as they left, coming over and silently asking permission to enter the nest.

You huffed and pulled him in forcibly, yelping when the galoot tripped and crashed onto you.

“Sorry, sorry baby.” He quickly got u p and checked you over. You’d probably have a bruise on your leg from his knee.

You pinched his arm as penance for his crime.

Crime.

“Hey, focus on me, baby.”

Crimes. Arrested. Trouble.

“Omega,” His voice came out impossibly deep and seemed to reverberate within you.

You tensed, ducking your head and then shifting to bare your neck to him and expose the main artery.

“Omega,” He whispered, voice soft and gentle.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. Your fluffy-haired alpha who wore a smile so well. And that white undershirt with a v-neck that exposed such pretty skin. Honey-olive skin.

“Back with me, omega?” He asked, grinning and flashing those dimples—those seductive little indents that you would do anything to see.

You crawled over, draping yourself across his chest and lap, tail swishing happily now that hew was here. He must have taken a shower because his hair was a bit damp.

He stroked your head, rubbing your ears to calm you further. “You still need to take it easy, baby.”

You whined.

“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay. I’m here to help you. We just need to take it easy.” He pet your hair. “They gave you something to counteract the suppressants. So, we need to relax while you’re okay.”

You whimpered at the thought of burning again.

He shushed you softly. “I’m here. We’re going to be fine. I’m going to take care of you.”

——

Previous Part. Next Part.

Masterlist. Series Masterpost.

#hybrid!au #hybrid!bts #namjoon #RM #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #hybrid!namjoon #wolf!namjoon #wolf hybrid!namjoon #sanctuary series #the sanctuary series #joininghispack fic #hybrid!reader #bts #bts fic #bts x reader

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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: This is a mammoth chapter (over 5k!) but it wouldn't have felt right ending it at any other point. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I am hoping to keep up a bimonthly update schedule to give me plenty of time to focus on work and my other novels, so I'm aiming for February 7th as my next update date! Anyway, here we go with chapter one!

*****

Chapter One

Isla Reid stared down at the churning ocean and wondered what would happen if she fell overboard.

It could happen, she reasoned. The railings felt flimsy and only came up to her waist. With no ferry staff nearby and only a handful of other passengers too preoccupied with puffing on cigarettes, or watching their Pokemon, would anyone even notice if she did fall? Someone’s Snubbull careened past and Isla could have sworn she heard it cackle. That was another thought. A collision with a Snubbull could easily launch a full-grown person six or seven feet. At least. More than enough to send her over the railings and down into the roiling ocean below. It wouldn’t be pretty, no, but she would have taken anything over what was coming next.

Over my dead body, her mother declared when Isla gave her the news, will my daughter be going halfway around the world alone. As if she’d conveniently forgotten the past four years Isla had spent working and living independently the moment that inter-regional travel was more than a fragile possibility. Before she knew it, her mother had taken over, sitting at the telephone with the air of a military general and a dog-eared phonebook that hadn’t seen the light of day since Isla was a child. Banging the phone down ten minutes later, her mother announced that if she really must go all the way to Kildo (but you really should reconsider, darling, it’s ever so dangerous!), she would be collected from the ferry by her cousins. Cousins they’d had no contact with in years. Cousins that, if she was being honest, Isla had forgotten even existed.

Isla fixed her gaze forward. The ocean unspooled in every direction, slate-grey water in a haze of mist. The ferry ploughed on, swaying like the rocking of a newborn baby, kicking up fans of white foam. A man hanging over the railings made a funny burping noise as they cleared a large wave. Soba mewled and pushed her head into Isla’s clenched hands until she relaxed them enough to pet her. They were getting closer. And she definitely wasn’t in Johto anymore.

A stir of movement behind her and she was pulled back from her percolating thoughts. A group of men shifted through a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke towards the seats. The youngest, who couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen, had a Pidgey perched on his shoulder and a frown deepening his face.

“Shouldn’t we go inside?” he prompted the older men, glancing up at the leaded sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain. I saw on the news that another storm is coming.”

“Don’t be daft!” a man with a wiry beard laughed. His accent was thick, heavy on the vowels, and took Isla a moment to understand. “We’ll be docked well before any bad weather hits.”

“You hope,” the younger boy muttered, but it was drowned out by laughter. “Dad, I’m serious! Remember I was telling you about ADoomWithAView – that streamer? He said that all these storms and stuff are because the Vitalities are angry with— Dad? Dad! Dad, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Son, you would do well to stop listening to that brainwashing drivel.”

“It’s not brainwashing! I’m serious! Humanity’s dependence on technology is what—”

The rest of the boy’s protests were drowned out by a prolonged blast of the ship’s horn. In the distance, something loomed out of the thinning mist. Land. They were approaching land. Soba squeaked as a ding-dong-ding rang out and a voice, in that same thick accent, crackled over the speakers.

“Good afternoon, passengers, we will soon be arriving in Port Glen. Passengers are reminded that all personal belongings and luggage must be removed from the baggage area, communal spaces, and all outer decks before disembarking. For those disembarking via the gangplank, a reminder that all Pokemon – with the exception of service Pokemon – must be safely stowed in Pokeballs and not released until you are safely onto the harbour. To repeat, we will soon be arriving in Port Glen. Passengers are reminded—”

Isla’s heart tightened in her chest. This was it. They were here.

She let her Furret bump against her hands, Soba’s soft fur instantly soothing. “I guess it’s time to face the unknown, eh?”

“Fur!” Soba squeaked.

Isla waited until nearly everyone else had disappeared down the gangplank before braving it herself. She’d travelled as light as possible, much to her mother’s disdain, but the backpack still felt she like she was hauling around a bag of rocks instead of a few changes of clothes and a laptop. Anxiety prickled over her skin – or was it just the cold? – as she faced her first tentative steps into Kildo.

She was almost disappointed when she looked out onto a perfectly ordinary little port town. Tucked into an alcove of beach, Port Glen’s harbour was filled with people and the dreamy hues of blue and green. The town lay ahead in a generous curve, bordered by a strip of sea that already looked darker, almost black, under the deepening sky. A thin wind roused the hair on the back of her neck.

Her mother had given her a reference photograph of Rhona, the cousin who was supposed to be meeting her. Related by marriage through some obscure aunt, Isla struggled to notice even one iota of family resemblance between them. The woman in the photograph had pale skin and a shock of red curls, but not much else in the way of distinguishing features.

At the bottom of the gangplank, Isla swept her gaze around, desperate for a sign of her chaperone. But there was no-one waiting. And as the last few passengers sidestepped her, heading towards the town, Isla suddenly felt very small and very alone. While she hadn’t been thrilled at the prospect of staying, even temporarily, with strangers, being alone in a new place hundreds of miles from home was an entirely different brand of anxiety.

Panicky thoughts looped through Isla’s head. Where was Rhona? Why wasn’t she here? Had she forgotten? Had she somehow missed her? Or maybe she just hadn’t seen her yet. But who was still here? She could see a sailor tying ropes, a child wailing at a dropped ice cream, a woman arguing with a… what even was that?

The Pokemon looked like an ordinary Wingull at first, so much so that she nearly skipped over it, but the longer she looked, the more she saw that was wrong with it. This Pokemon was much rounder, a body like it’d swallowed a bowling ball, and its wings were shorter and rimmed with black, rather than the traditional blue. Isla delved for her battered old Pokedex and lined it up with this new Pokemon.

“Wingull, the Seagull Pokemon. Facing competition from Chibber for natural resources, Wingull have resorted to stealing food from witless tourists instead. As such, it has gained weight over time, as well as a more deceiving nature.”

So it was a Kildonian Wingull! That made sense. Isla was the first to admit that her knowledge of native Kildo Pokemon was lacking – a poor decision in hindsight – but she really should have been able to work out it was a regional variant. A flush deepened her cheeks as she imagined her professor’s scowl.

With no guardian in sight, Isla watched the scene unfolding in front of her. The Kildonian Wingull screeched as it dove at the offending woman at the end of the docks, the sound rippling over the wind. There was something in the woman’s hands, something that the Wingull seemed intent on, certainly enough not to be deterred at the attempts to fend it off. Isla let her bag fall and released Soba from her Pokeball.

“Soba, go and help! Use Quick Attack to chase that Pokemon away!”

Soba bulleted towards the struggling woman, squashing herself flat against the ground like a snake, rising into a fierce, full-body strike when the unsuspecting Wingull’s back was turned. With another ear-splitting screech, the Wingull went down like a sack of potatoes.

By the time Isla caught up, the Wingull was gone, dropping into the water of the harbour with an indignant squawk. The woman it had accosted looked harassed as she tried to piece together a ripped plastic bag brimming with wrapped sandwiches.

“Are you alright?” Isla asked, patting her thigh to call Soba back to her side.

“Oh, I’m fine, chick, but I can’t say the same about my lunch! Those Wingull are a terrible nuisance. These tourists think it’s funny to feed them and then it’s us locals that have to live with them. Oh shoot,” she cursed as one of the sandwiches slipped out of her grasp.

Isla ducked down to retrieve it. “Here, let me help you.”

“Oh, thank you, chick,” the woman said. “I have a spare bag here. Gosh, I can’t thank you enough for stopping to help. Usually when a Wingull gets its sights on your food, it’s a foregone conclusion.”

“They definitely seem a lot more, uh, food-oriented than the ones we have back home!” Isla laughed as she helped drop the sandwiches into the new bag.

“Back home?” the woman’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I thought your accent wasn’t local. You’re Isla, right? I can’t believe I didn’t realise it straight away. You’re the spit of your mum, so you are.”

Isla tried very hard not to mind being compared to her mother, but she took a small comfort in the fact that her waif of a mother would be far more scandalised. Was this woman really her cousin? Rhona, if this was her, was pleasantly round, much bigger than she was in the photograph. And while she was still small compared to Isla, it felt like a comfort to finally see another woman in their family that looked like her. And Rhona was pretty, her red curls pulled into a modest bun and her plump skin pebbledashed with freckles. She met Rhona’s eyes and they filled with warmth. Instantly, Isla felt soothed.

“Yes!” she said, barely able to hide her relief. “I’m Isla. And you’re Mrs—”

“Now, chick, you’ll call me Rhona. We’re family after all.”

“Rhona,” Isla corrected herself shyly. “Thanks ever so for letting me stay.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem, dear. Always happy to have visitors! I’m just sorry I’m a bit late, I’d stopped to pick up lunch and that blasted Wingull got a sniff of it. Chased me all the way down from the road end! If it hadn’t been for you and your lovely, uh… what Pokemon is this, dear?”

“This is Soba,” Isla stroked Furret and she purred appreciatively. “She’s a Furret. I’m not sure if you have them here. We’ve been partners for years.”

“She’s gorgeous!” Rhona said. “Don’t leave her alone with my daughter, though, she’s obsessed with all things Pokemon. She might try and adopt her!”

“You have a daughter?” Isla asked, frantically wracking her brain to try and remember if her mother had ever mentioned that.

“Yes, my Skye. She’s thirteen and Pokemon daft. And there’s my son, Blair. He’s the same age as you, give or take. They’re both very much looking forward to meeting you.”

Isla felt like something had just severed her at the chest. Why hadn’t her mother mentioned Rhona had children? Living with one stranger had been a scary enough prospect, now there were two more cousins to contend with?

“Come on, chick, shall we head off?”

As the harbour decking melted into gravel path, Rhona’s questioning amplified – How’s your mum? How has she been getting on? Does she still see Great Aunt Florence? Does she enjoy working for herself? – as if she were trying to make up for ten years of missed conversation. Even though Isla could only give short answers, Rhona still nodded and responded as if she’d just given her the secrets of the universe.

“So, what about you, Isla?” Rhona eventually asked as they turned away from the streets and approached a dirt road, littered with pebbles. “Your Mum said you needed a place to stay for a while, but she was a bit hazy with the details. What brings you all the way to Kildo?”

By the time Isla finished explaining her final year thesis proposal, Rhona oohing and ahhing the whole way through, they were coming up on the Whispering Pines Croft. A weather-beaten cottage sat beneath the shade of a looming forest and sloping hills. Fencing laced through the land like thread through fabric, bordering off sections of patchwork ground in brown and green and the occasional flash of vibrant purple. If Isla squinted hard enough, she could make out a field full of Miltank grazing in the distance. Another field to its left was occupied with the puffy, cotton-wool silhouettes of Wooloo. The whole place smelled of earth and mud, with a tinge of salt, wafting in by the ocean-bound breeze.

Rhona paused to catch her breath. “The Whispering Pines Croft has been in our family for generations. Every generation, we seem to find something new to build.” Indeed, the cottage looked like a mishmash, a Frankenstein’s monster of building expansions. “We do all sorts here. Livestock, farming, everything. The soil isn’t as forgiving as it is in other regions, it’s full of salt from the ocean, but we manage.”

Rhona didn’t take her shoes off when they clomped inside, but Isla slipped hers off, conscious of the mud clinging to the bottom of her soles. She put Soba in her Pokeball for the same reason. Rhona led her through to a kitchen with a low ceiling, steamy with condensation, and thick with the smell of baked apples. Like the house itself, the kitchen had a hodgepodge feel, a cosy mismatch. A proper family place, a life centred around a kitchen table.

“You can throw your stuff anywhere,” Rhona said, but Isla, totally out of her depth and wishing very much she could shrink to half her size to accommodate herself in this tiny, bustling place, just slotted her backpack in the gap by the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” Isla asked, the pressure of standing there like a stubbed toe eclipsing every other feeling.

“No, chick, you sit yourself down. You must be tired,” Rhona said as she laid the sandwiches down on the table. “Here, you take first choice, but be warned, if there isn’t an egg and cress left for my mother, she’ll fall out with you.”

Isla’s hand froze. “Your mum lives with you?”

“Yes. She went with my Dad to assisted living for a while, but when he passed, well, it was easier on everyone to have her here. Does her the world of good to be around people and have a little independence,” Rhona said over the clatter of plates. “She’s got more hobbies than I do, in fact! She teaches classes in the old Kildonian language on the weekends too. Keeps her out of mischief.”

“Really?” Isla’s heart leapt to her throat. “The Kildonian language is something I wanted to look into for my report!”

“Well, that’s a happy coincidence then. I’m sure she’ll be happy to go over some of it with you. Oh, hang on a moment,” she said, reaching up to pull a Pokeball from an apron hanging on the kitchen door. “I’m just going to call everyone to the table.”

Isla’s mouthful of cheese salad sandwich almost ended up splattering the table as Rhona tossed the Pokeball to the ground, and the kitchen was invaded by a flurry of grey and red feathers. The Pokemon – whatever it was – came up to Rhona’s hip, had a squat body, long muscular legs, and powerful wings that it beat to great effect as it noticed the stranger. Isla yelped as the Pokemon cocked its head, its movements quick and jerky, like the ticking of a clock.

“Ruchter, calm your feathers,” Rhona said, tapping the Pokemon on its haunches. It clucked and crowed, shaking its head fiercely. “This is Isla. She’ll be staying with us for a bit.”

The Pokemon relaxed, but still fixed Isla with a withering glare. Isla consulted her Pokedex.

“Ruchter, the Farmer Pokemon. The evolved form of Chickter. Able to precisely work tough soil with their talons, Ruchter can cover a small field in minutes. Despite looking old and frail, they are tireless, and can work for hours without a break.”

Rhona ruffled the Pokemon’s tail feathers. “Ruchter, please go and fetch Blair and Skye from the fields.”

The Pokemon was off before Rhona could even finish her sentence, barrelling out the door with all the grace of a drunk Tauros.

Rhona poured tea into a flowery mug and arranged one of the sandwiches on a matching plate. “Isla, I’m just going to pop up with this for my Mum. I’ll be right back. There’s lemonades and sodas in the fridge, so help yourself.” Rhona was halfway up the stairs when she called back, “And if my two come in tracking mud everywhere, make sure they wash their hands before sitting down!”

The tightness in Isla’s chest squeezed harder. Any moment now she was going to be dropped into a meeting with two new mystery cousins. What would they be like? Would they like her? Would they think she was weird, as most people did? The memories of barbed stares resurfaced like a Sharpedo’s fin breaking the water. Strangers, her peers, her friends, even her own family, all of them silently judging her, as she tried to navigate life being both big and invisible.

No, she needed to calm down. Spiralling wouldn’t help. She repeated it like a mantra inside her head. She hadn’t even met them, and she’d already decided they wouldn’t like her. She had to get better at this.

All the same, her stomach stayed knotted and eating felt like the last thing she wanted to do. Though maybe she should wait until her cousins came in anyway, do the polite thing. She paused and went to the fridge instead, opening and draining half a can of fizzy lemonade. The bubbles pulsed through her twisty stomach, prickling like pins and needles.

She heard the voices before she saw their owners, one deep and droning, the other light and lilting. Then the door swung open, Ruchter scrambling inside in a skittering of talons on wooden floor, two people bringing up the rear.

“Skye, take off your shoes! Mam will go mad if you track mud in.”

He hadn’t seen her. Neither of them had. She didn’t know if that felt better or worse. As the two of them tromped towards the sink, she cleared her throat.

The oldest – a young man with long red hair tied in a ponytail – stopped in his tracks. “Oh, hey! You must be Isla? Nice to meet you,” he extended a hand covered in mud only to retract it when he saw Isla staring. “Maybe later, eh? Skye, make room at the sink please.”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” Isla said over the sound of running water. “Blair and Skye, right?”

“That’s us!” Blair shook his hands off at the sink. “Nice to have you here, cousin. It’s quite something having family coming from all the way in Johto, isn’t it, Skye?”

Skye moved like a ghost, silently staring under a canopy of brown fringe. “Do you have Johto Pokemon?”

Isla blinked. “Ah, yes. Just one though.”

“I want to see.”

“Oh,” Isla looked at Blair and then to Ruchter. “Is that okay?”

“Go ahead!” Blair took a savage bite out of a cheese and pickle sandwich. “Let me just put Ruchter out so the two don’t end up in a scrap.”

After Ruchter went haring out to the garden in pursuit of scattered pellets, Isla let Soba bounce out of her Pokeball. Her younger cousin’s eyes lit up.

“She’s so pretty! What is she?”

“She’s a Furret. They evolve from something called a Sentret. They’re kind of common around where I live, I’m afraid,” she added with a nervous chuckle, then wondered why on earth she was apologising.

“What type is she?”

“Normal.”

“Is she strong?”

“She’s not super strong, but we’ve been together for seven years. She knows how to handle herself.”

“What moves does she know?”

“Quick Attack, Fury Swipes, Rest, things like that.”

“What’s her nature?”

“The lady at the Pokemon Centre thinks she’s Bashful, if I remember right.”

“Does she have any TM moves?” And before Isla could answer, Skye kept going. “What’s her favourite Rock flavour? Where did you get her from? Does she—”

“Hey, easy up, Miss Missy,” Blair nudged his sister. “Come on, let Isla relax and eat her lunch. You need to get something in you too. Keep your strength up for the big day.”

Skye rolled her eyes but did as she was told.

“Big day?” Isla asked, desperate for something to fill the silence.

“Skye is going to Aberdrip City in a few days to get her very first Pokemon,” Blair said proudly.

Isla smiled encouragingly but the fact that her younger cousin was a year late in getting her first Pokemon didn’t escape her attention. She decided not to ask as Skye chattered on about Aberdrip City and how she still hadn’t decided which starter she wanted. By the time Rhona came back downstairs, Isla felt fuller and warmer than she had in days.

“I see you guys are getting acquainted,” Rhona smiled, collapsing into the chair next to her daughter and dropping a kiss on her head. “Here, what did you leave me? Ugh, cream cheese and cucumber. I don’t know why they keep it in the multibuy deal, no-one likes it.” She took a bite anyway. “How are you, Isla?”

“I’m good,” Isla said, and she meant it. “Thanks again for having me. It’s a real help.”

“So, what are your plans for Kildo?” Blair asked, nibbling on a crust. “Seeing anywhere nice?”

“I’m here for a research trip,” Isla said. “I’m doing a project on the legend of the Chessmen Pokemon, so really, what I want to do is visit the places that the Chessmen were rumoured to live, and then finish up with the exhibition in Hydrogate City.”

“Hydrogate is a long way to travel,” Blair said seriously. “Especially with all the… complications.”

Rhona shot Blair a fierce look. “Now, Blair, don’t go terrifying the poor lass! There’s nothing wrong, chick. Just a bit of funny weather.”

“And the rest, Mam! There was a landslip near Auchtermelty the other day. They reckon it could take days to clear. It’s totally stopped trade and deliveries; they have to go the long way around. Wee Arthur – that’s Auchtermelty’s Gym Leader, Isla – has been trying to dig it out single handed with his Pokemon but even he had to stop because it was too dangerous.”

“Arabella’s mother says it’s because the Vitalities are unhappy,” Skye interjected.

“Arabella’s mother needs to take a long walk off a short pier,” Blair said, and Skye let out a snort of laughter.

“Blair, watch your mouth,” Rhona said, without looking up.

“Well how stupid can you get?” Blair said. “The Vitalities aren’t to blame for this.”

“Wait, what’s all this about?” Isla asked, confused.

“Just an old legend, chick.” Rhona said. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them, considering you’re interested in the Chessmen tale.”

“Of course she hasn’t,” a voice rasped from the doorway and Isla nearly dropped her can of lemonade. Standing in the door’s alcove was an elderly woman, skin deeply lined, and grey hair styled into a candyfloss-like perm. She was tiny – maybe a whole foot smaller than Blair – but her voice was sharp and crisp like every word held a pointed edge. “Incomers don’t make a habit of learning our secrets,” the woman said, fixing her gaze on Isla. “Then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they?”

“Mum!” Rhona said, her voice tight. “What are you doing up?”

“You think I wouldn’t get up to greet our guest? Especially one who has such a vetted interest in our local legends?”

“Oh, here we go,” Blair stood up. “I think I’m going to get the Miltank in. Looks like a storm on the horizon. Skye, are you coming?”

Isla glanced out the window. The sky had turned granite-grey, swirled with black. When Skye and Blair left, a thin wind send the temperature plummeting. Rhona fiddled with the thermostat and the heating clanged into life, but it didn’t make a difference. Icy fingers had worked their way up Isla’s spine the minute the old woman had spoken.

“Isla, this is my mum, Morag. You can call her Nana Morag though, as my two do.” Rhona said. “Mum, why don’t you tell Isla about the Vitalities while I wash up?”

“Why not?” Nana Morag said, settling herself into the chair that Skye left empty. “The Vitalities legend dates to round about the same time as the Chessmen. Think of the two as intertwined, rather than separate. The Vitalities, made up of Voltean, Burnach, Creakrone, and Liathsong, were said to be able to give – and take – all forms of energy from the world around them. Legend has it that the earliest settlers, who came here centuries ago, were given gifts from the Vitalities that allowed them to heat their homes, harness the ocean, work on the harsh land, and even have some form of electricity hundreds of years before it became common use. Now, the Chessmen, they were different. They were said to control—”

“I know this,” Isla couldn’t help herself. “They’re known as the Progression, Expression, and Protection Pokemon. They gave early Kildonians the means to develop industry, arts, and security.”

The old woman nodded approvingly. “You know your stuff. Very good for an incomer.”

“Mother,” Rhona said warningly.

“You know how the legend ends, yes?” Nana Morag checked. “The Chessmen, enraged with how humans squandered their gifts, tore the region apart and set humanity back hundreds of years. The Chessmen became dormant and the Vitalities were banished, leaving the humans to rebuild alone. Many people believe the Vitalities are responsible for all the natural disasters—”

“They’re not disasters, Mother.”

“—because they’re still furious about being banished all those years ago.”

“Fascinating,” Isla breathed out. “Is there anything else you can tell me about them?”

“I think, for now, we’ll get you sorted in your room, shall we?” Rhona interjected hastily.

“Oh, of course. Thank you,” Isla said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice.

As she manoeuvred her backpack out of the gap by the fridge, Nana Morag caught her by the elbow, her thin, bony hand proving a surprisingly strong grip. “I have some books that you might find interesting. I’ll drop them off for you later.”

And then Isla was climbing the creaky old stairs, ready to try and slot herself into this strange new home with these strange new people.

The rest of the day passed slowly, like petals of a flower unfurling in the sun. She met Kenneth, Rhona’s husband, who split his time between the farm and the market in town. He was frighteningly tall, too tall for the cottages’ low ceilings, and he walked with a noticeable hump even when there was enough space. Rhona was a mean cook, serving up a vast pot of bubbling stew, and Isla had to banish all thoughts of whether the meat too was “home-grown” from her head in order to enjoy it.

Tiredness swept in the moment she laid her knife and fork down. The night came in so much faster in Kildo than Johto, and it felt somehow thicker and darker, like she was swaddled in a large black cloak. She was glad when Rhona took one look at her when the family was doing the final storm checks on the farm and sent her straight up to bed.

Maybe it was the fresh air, maybe it was the excitement, maybe it was the long journey, but the second her head hit the pillow, Isla was dead asleep.

Hours slipped by, or maybe it was minutes, until her world was split apart by a huge bang! She sat bolt upright, cocooned in slippery blankets, and it was all she could do not to topple headfirst out of the bed. As the world phased in around her, freezing cold air gusted into the tiny room, causing goosepimples to erupt on her bare skin. The window, left on the latch before she fell asleep, had blown open. The storm had hit.

Slamming the light on, she untangled herself and grappled with the slippery latch. Eventually she shut out the wind. Outside, everything was pitch black like the swirl of spilled ink, and the rain lashed against the house, sounding like bullets. Isla pressed her face to the window, her breath misting the glass. Something bobbed in the distance, a single pin of light, moving through the velvety dark. It looked too small to be Blair or Kenneth. But who else would be out there during a storm?

The light moved closer. Isla scrubbed impatiently at the fogged glass, terrified that if she took her eyes away, even for a moment, it would disappear. It grew, doubling first, then tripling in size, then a crack of lightning split the sky. Isla let out a gasp as her entire room plunged into darkness. The power was out.

The light in the garden was growing brighter.

Or was it really a light? It looked almost solid now. Like a real living thing. Or maybe not a something. Maybe a someone. Something behind the light looked like the silhouette of a child.

It intensified, burning so bright that it seared Isla’s eyes and for a moment, all she saw was white. Then it faded and was gone. The lamp on her bedside table flickered back into life. The winds seemed to calm. The rain simpered to a stop. And Isla was alone, aside from the impression of a pair of wide, childlike eyes burned into the back of her head.

As we have a full Pokedex (130+ Fakemon), we decided to provide more details about each new Pokemon as it's introduced, especially as we may not always be able to give full details for each one. These aren't necessary to enjoy the story but it's here for anyone who is interested. So, here are the dex entries for Kildonian Wingull and Ruchter!

Kildonian Wingull Number: 041 Type: Water/Flying Evolution: Kleptern at Lv25 Abilities: Keen Eye/Pickpocket. HA: Rain Dish Stats: 50/55/30/30/30/75 Dex Description: Facing severe competition from Chibber for natural resources, Wingull have resorted to stealing food from witless tourists instead. As such, it has gained weight over time, but has also gained a more deceiving nature.

Ruchter Number: 090 Type: Flying/Ground Evolution: Evolved from Chickter (Happiness, Male-only) Abilities: Early Bird/Tough Claws. HA: Vital Spirit Stats: 100/125/55/50/55/90 Dex Description: Ruchter, the Farmer Pokemon. The evolved form of Chickter. Able to precisely work tough soil with their talons, Ruchter can cover a small field in minutes. Despite looking old and frail, they are tireless, and can work for hours without a break.”

#Checkmate #Pokemon #Pokemon fanfic #Pokemon fanfiction

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thefloorisbalaclava · 4 years

Text

Everywhere - Chapter 7

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a little angst but it ends on a sweet note

A/N: The song for this chapter is Landslide by Fleetwood Mac-no lyrics this time though. Truth be told, I’m not feeling very inspired by anything lately. That being said, I’m thinking of not posting this story here anymore. No one seems to be into it as much as the other Javi stories going around and I’m pretty discouraged. I do appreciate the love I get from my usual readers though...that goes without saying.

Summary: You’ve done well for yourself in the States but then you get news that changes everything.

Tags: @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @misslolasworld @aeryntheofficial @ah-callie @mrsparknuts @loki-098 @theringostarfanclub @huliabitch @thinemineours @flapjacques @opheliaelysia

You were enjoying your time back in the States. Connie called you almost every day and Carrillo called and wrote to you when he could. He was the only connection to the case in Colombia that you kept in steady contact with. You found yourself wanting to ask how Javier was doing but your pride always stopped you.

You had only been back about a month when your chief had pulled you aside and told you that you were being offered a position as an Intelligence Analyst. The job was at the El Paso Intelligence Center which meant that you would be moving to Texas.

Of course you had to go to Texas. Everywhere you went would remind you of Javier fucking Peña. Even when he wasn't near you, he was everywhere.

That's how you ended up in Texas, working at a desk, but making good money. You had been able to buy a nice place for yourself and live comfortably. Of course, most of the intelligence coming through was for the situation in Colombia which was to be expected.

As for your personal life, well, you didn't have much of one. You dated here and there, but you never ever really clicked with anyone. You told yourself it had nothing to do with a certain mustachioed casanova in Colombia, but that was a goddamn lie. And it made you angry. As you lie awake missing him, he was probably off with a different woman every night. He wasn't missing you. He probably didn't even remember what you looked like and that was probably for the best.

If only you could forget him.

---

You couldn't believe it had already been a year, a life-changing one at that. Sure, you missed being out in the field, but it had been a nice change of pace. Your phone rang and you picked it up announcing yourself by your last name.

"I need to see you in my office," the chief said.

"Oh uh...yes sir." The phone clicked in your ear and you hung it up before standing and walking the short distance to the chief's office. You knocked a few times and walked in, standing in front of his desk. "You needed to see me, sir?"

"Yes. Sit please." He gestured to the chair beside you and you sat in it. "You worked as a special agent in Colombia before this, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes sir. I wasn't there very long though."

"So you're familiar with the country and language, correct?" You nodded and wondered where this was going. "I want you back over there."

Your heart dropped to your stomach and you blinked a few times before responding. "Back...in Colombia, sir?"

"Yes and as soon as possible."

"Is there a reason why?" You had plenty of reasons not to go back.

"Is there some pressing reason why you cannot go to Colombia?" the chief asked, clearly frustrated.

"No sir."

"Good. Go home and pack. You fly out the day after tomorrow." He stood and walked to the window and that meant you were dismissed.

You walked out of the office and tried to catch your breath. A year. You had been out of Colombia for a year. You had been away from Javier for a year...and now you had to go back. What a cruel twist of fate.

---

The next day went by so quickly. It felt like you had only blinked and you were boarding a plane to Colombia. Even the flight seemed to go by too quickly as if everything had a hand in trying to get you back to the place, the man, you had tried to forget.

You stepped off the plane and into the airport to wait for your luggage. Once again, it came too fast. You hoped and prayed for any little delay but you were at the embassy quicker than you liked. They introduced you to people you already knew from the last time you were here to pass the time until someone from the DEA picked you up. You could easily get there yourself but they insisted on getting the Intelligence Analyst a proper ride. The only thing that made you happy was thinking that maybe they sent Steve to come get you. It would definitely be a surprise to him.

The door opened and the man talking to you stopped to greet the person who had walked in. "Ah, Colonel…" You turned your head as soon as you heard the word colonel.

"Horacio!" You didn't care how unprofessional it looked as you stood and practically ran over to greet him. He laughed quietly as you hugged him.

"It's about time." He rubbed your back. "How are you?"

"Kinda pissed being back here but so happy to see you!" You squeezed him once more before pulling away. "Let me get my bags…"

"I'll get them." He walked around you and picked up your bags before walking out the door. You watched as he put your bags in his car and scolded yourself for practically ogling the man. It had been too long. You snapped your eyes back to his face when he spoke again. "They put you up in a hacienda this time."

"A hacienda? Won't that just draw attention?"

"Maybe, but it may draw the attention of the people we're looking for." He opened the car door for you. "You want to go to the station first or what?" He closed the door and walked around to the other side.

"Is Steve there?" you asked, avoiding the other name that was on the tip of your tongue.

"I don't see why he wouldn't be."

"Okay. Let's go to the station first."

Horacio caught you up on anything he might have missed in his letters to you on the way to the station. You winced internally each time the name Javier or Peña was spoken.

"You know, he might be there too," Carrillo said as he parked then looked at you. "You don't think I noticed how you reacted each time I said his name?"

"Horacio...I…"

"It's okay. Come on." You both got out of the car and walked into the station. Your feet carried you right to the office you used to share with your partners. "Hey, your Intelligence Analyst is here," Carrillo announced and Steve turned around.

"No fuckin' way!" Steve walked over quickly and hugged you so tightly you couldn't breathe. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm in El Paso at the Intelligence Center now and the chief said he needed me back here so...here I am."

"You are a sight for sore eyes. Wait till I tell Connie." He must have seen you looking around. "Javi...he's uh...said he had to meet someone."

You sat on the edge of the desk and sighed. "Is that supposed to surprise me?" you asked with a laugh. "It's been a year, Steve. You can bring him up around me without all the trepidation."

"Talking about someone and actually seeing them are two different things, darling. Speakin' of…" Steve's eyes shifted slightly and your body stiffened as the door opened behind you. Carrillo slightly blocked you from his view and you were glad for it.

"What's going on in here? Did I miss something?" Javier asked.

You looked at Steve and shrugged before hopping off the desk and moving from behind Carrillo. Javier stumbled to a stop when his eyes landed on you. You could see him going through just about every emotion. You could also see the huge hickey on his neck. Typical.

"Hi...Agent Peña…"

"H-hey." When he said your name your heart skipped a beat. You smiled and nodded then turned back to Steve and Horacio. Javier stood and watched you talk and laugh with the other men. Of course it was easy for them to talk to you--you hadn't crushed their very souls. When Carrillo leaned over and said something in your ear, Javier bristled and felt his hands ball up into fists.

"We should all celebrate," Steve suggested. "You're the one with the hacienda now, you should host a party."

"Oh yeah, a bunch of DEA agents partying together at a hacienda won't draw any attention. Besides I've hardly had time to settle in."

"Fine. We'll all just go out then." Steve waited for your response and clapped his hands when you agreed. "Drinks on the Intelligence Analyst!" Everyone laughed. Everyone except Javier. He caught your eye again when you turned along with Carrillo to leave.

"Excuse me," you murmured as you walked past Javier. Carrillo walked ahead and had already opened the door when Javier touched your arm gently. You looked down at his hand and he moved it quickly.

"I just...I'm...it's good to see you," he mumbled but you had a feeling there was so much more to be said. Feeling his hand against your skin again was...a lot.

"It's good to see you too. And...you might wanna cover that up." You pointed to his neck and he tugged on the collar of his shirt. His mouth opened but Carrillo cleared his throat and you smiled before walking away. Maybe you would see him tonight.

---

This hacienda of yours was no joke. It was nearly fully furnished and someone had left fresh fruit out for you already. Horacio had sat with you for a little while before he got a call and had to leave. Now you were alone in this big house and bored out of your mind. Unpacking was your only remedy for that.

The little dress you had worn the last time you were here was way at the bottom and now you held it up in front of you wondering if you should wear it tonight. "Why not?" you asked aloud. The shoes you decided on were not practical nor comfortable but you didn't get out much and there was nothing wrong with getting a little sexy sometimes.

You were dressed long before night fell so you busied yourself around the house--dancing around barefoot, exploring the different rooms, familiarizing yourself with everything. Before you knew it, you heard a car horn blaring outside. You ran out to see Connie waving wildly before getting out and running to you.

"I can't believe you're back!" she screamed as she hugged you then she pulled away. "I'm so mad at you for not telling me you were leaving...but I'm so happy you're back!"

"I missed you too, Connie."

"God, I wish I looked like you in a dress," she admired. "Your little year back home treated you well, huh? Any stories?" she asked as she followed you into the house so you could put your shoes on.

"By stories I'm assuming you mean did I sleep with anyone back in the states and the answer is...none of your business." You stood up a little straighter with the heels on.

"That's not fair! Give me something."

"Listen, I have needs just like anyone else but I refuse to discuss them. I'm not as open about it as…" You cut yourself short and grabbed your little purse.

"Javi?"

"Not tonight, Connie."

"Well, he's gonna be there, you know? What're gonna do? Ignore him the entire time?" She walked with you out to the car.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do. I just wanna have a good time."

You could feel that Connie wanted to ask what happened between you and Javier but she kept quiet about it as she drove. Surely Steve had told her most of it anyway.

"I think he loves you," she blurted as soon as the car was parked outside the club.

"Connie...stop. I said not tonight." You opened the car door. "We only knew each other for a month and a few days. How could he love me?"

"You loved him, didn't you?" She got out of the car and walked over to you.

"Yes. Past tense. Now...let's go." You walked ahead of her but she caught up and linked her arm with yours.

"Sorry for bringing it up. Now smile and go shake your booty!" She laughed as you gave her a look. "Ooo here comes Horacio. I think he likes what he sees." She let go of your arm and made her way over to Steve who was sitting with Javier and a few other agents.

"You look great," Horacio said loud enough so you could hear him over the din of the crowd and the music. "Want a drink?" he asked and you nodded.

"I'm gonna go sit with everyone," you told him and with a quick nod he was off. One of the agents wolf whistled as you approached the table and you rolled your eyes. "Down boy!" you shouted and everyone laughed. You pointed to the empty spot next to Javier. "Anyone sitting here?"

"Be my guest." Javier gestured to the spot with one hand and lifted his glass of whiskey with the other.

"Thanks." You could feel his eyes on you but you looked out at the crowd to find Carrillo bringing your drink.

"Para la dama," he said as he placed the drink on the table in front of you.

"Thank you." As you drank, everyone asked you questions and told jokes. It was just like old times except it seemed like Javier didn't have much to say at all and he could never resist picking on you. You were about to turn to say something to him but got cut off.

"Let's dance." Carrillo held his hand out to you and you looked at him in shock.

"Dance? You dance?" You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet.

"Does that surprise you?" He pulled you onto the dancefloor and Connie followed with her camera. As he spun you out away from him, she snapped a quick picture and ran back to the table.

"Connie! I'm gonna break that camera!" you yelled but couldn't keep a straight face as you danced. Your body moved to the music and when you spun around again your eyes locked with Javier's and he raised his glass to you before standing and leaving. Your face fell but you tried to smile again as the song ended and you thanked Horacio for the dance. You walked back to the table and sat down, worn out and hot.

"Where did Javier go?"

"Probably for a smoke," Steve answered and you nodded. You looked towards the door but didn't get up. Isn't that how it happened last time? You went outside and he happened to be out there too and soon he was giving you a ride home. Not this time though. This time you were staying inside.

Connie stood and pulled you along to the bathroom with her but something told you that she didn't have to use it. "Go talk to him," she demanded.

"Nope." You turned and tried to walk away but she grabbed and turned you to face her. "Ow."

"He's miserable," she whined.

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're both my friends and I just want you two to be happy."

"I can't make Javier happy, Connie...and he can't make me happy either." You sounded defeated.

"How do you even know that?"

"He'll never change. He came into the office today with a huge hickey on his neck. If he loved me the way you say he does then...explain that." You crossed your arms and waited for an answer.

"He's lonely."

"Hell, I am too but I don't wanna go fuck half of Colombia!" you snapped and the women nearby looked at you. "Lo siento."

"Look. Just talk. What's the worst that can happen?" She squeezed your arm and walked away. You stood there, your heart and brain battling over what you should do. Suddenly, you grumbled and stomped your foot, gaining some more strange looks from the people around you. With an exasperated groan, you turned and walked to the door and ran right into the man you were sent to talk to.

"Shit...sorry Peña." You steadied yourself by grabbing his jacket.

"You leavin'?" he asked.

"No. I actually was coming to find you."

"Me?"

"To...talk."

"Oh." He stepped back outside and put his hands on his hips. His usual stance. "So?"

"So...how have you been?" You groaned at your own question.

"Good. Great," he lied. "And you?"

"Never better," you also lied.

"Yeah. New job. New boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Now you put your hands on your hips.

"Yeah. You and Carrillo, right?" He looked uncomfortable saying it.

"We're friends. He...called me and wrote to me when I was stateside." What you said next was probably inappropriate but you weren't in your right mind. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it…"

"I would be happy for you." Another lie.

"Hm…"

There was a long moment of silence. You could hear the beat of the music coming from inside but your heart seemed to be beating louder than that.

"I kept it, you know." He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "The letter…"

"Oh. I wasn't sure you got it."

"Yeah, well, I had no way of contacting you to let you know." The volume of his voice had gotten higher and you glared at him.

"And why do you think you even deserved to keep in contact with me?"

"Why did I de-" He growled in anger and began walking away only to turn back to you.

"Your letter said you loved me. I read those fucking words over and over again until I couldn't see straight! I tried everything! I tried drinking it away. I tried fucking it away! But you were always there! And then having you show up like this...I thought I'd feel better but it actually hurts more than you being so far away. Having to see you with fuckin' Carrillo like that…" He sighed and looked down at the ground.

"I…"

"I'm not even Javier to you anymore. I'm back to being Agent fucking Peña."

"Well, if that bothers you then I can call-"

"Did you hear a fucking word I said?!" he shouted. He walked up to you and put his hands on your upper arms. You blinked back tears that had been threatening to fall for the last few minutes. Him being so close to you again brought back so many memories. Most of them you wanted gone.

"I could've loved you, Javier," you whispered. "But maybe it's like you said...good is not what you need right now."

"How long are you gonna keep throwing my own words back in my face?"

"As long as they hurt me." You pulled yourself out of his grip. "And yes...they still hurt."

"Is everything okay out here?" Carrillo walked to your side and you wiped your tears away quickly.

"Everything is fine," you murmured.

"No, it's not." Javier stomped back inside and your eyes followed.

"I want to go home," you told Horacio. "Please." And that was the end of your night out.

---

The next few days consisted of you and Javier glaring at each other and the rest of the office walking on eggshells. One wrong word or phrase could send either of you off on a tirade and the office was already uneasy with tension. Whenever Carrillo showed up, Javier would always find that he had to do something in another room. Whenever Javier said he had to meet with an informant, you chuckled bitterly, loud enough for him to hear.

Connie showed up one of the days when you were sure you were going to kill Javier. You needed her happiness to clear the air.

"I got the pictures developed," she said excitedly. You looked through them and threw most of the ones of yourself in the garbage. "Hey! This is a good one! You're smiling!"

"I don't like it." You took it from her hand and dropped it back in the trash. "Anyway...I'm done for the day. Let's go get some food." You linked your arm with Connie's and headed out. You were looking down when you heard her greet Javier.

"Hey Javi!"

"Hey Connie."

You avoided his gaze and kept walking. Connie looked back at Javier and shrugged as you pulled her along.

---

Back in the office, Javier tried to organize some of the mess on his desk when he spotted a photo on the floor. He went to pick it up and realized it was a picture of you smiling. When he walked over to your desk, he noticed a bunch of photos had made their way into the trash. He dug them out and looked at each and every one. He didn't realize he was smiling until it fell off his face when the last picture he looked at was one of you and Carrillo dancing. You looked so carefree, so happy. He lightly traced over your face then folded the photo so that he only saw you. The other he took was one that Connie must have snuck and took at the club. You and he were sitting together. You were looking off into the crowd and he was looking at you. He scoffed. He was always looking at you. When you were around the rest of the world didn't exist.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x fem!reader #Narcos #narcos netflix #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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herandhearelove · 3 years

Text

Coming out.

TL;DR: I am genderfluid. All of my characters will remain the same, except for Ashley/Halsey*, who will now go by Ash/Halsey— NOT Ashley, regardless of gender. Current pronouns will be in my username and easily visible.

I will be continuing to do primarily lewd roleplay, and because this is a fantasy where I can be free of dysphoria, Ash will anatomically match whatever his/her current gender is, which will also be whatever my OOC gender as a writer is. My writer tag will continue to be Sooki, as it is gender neutral.

I very, very, very strongly urge you to read the rest of this post so you may understand me better— ESPECIALLY if you do not believe gender fluidity exists.

If you wish to interact with me however, especially in any long term capacity, reading this is mandatory.

* edit: this also works exactly the same for my portrayal of Loki. I wrote this believing Ash would be the only genderfluid character I played, and the post is so large that I cannot be bothered to update it. Works exactly the same way though!!!

Overview.

Hey guys.

So, this has been a very long time coming. My understanding of gender has been called into question over the last few months, and I have had a very rapid period of change and self discovery. Roleplay has greatly assisted this. My friends have been accepting, my life has evolved, and I have even chosen a new name to go by out of character with the help of my friends in this community.

I am genderfluid. This means my gender is in flux, to the point that I feel extremely uncomfortable being referred to as a Female or as a Male at times, as well as experiencing shifting dysphoria against the parts of my body that assign me to the gender I am not associating with. My jawline, on some days, is a celebration. On others, it’s a reminder that the world perceives me one way, and that I have to work to change it. Some days, I feel pained that I am so flat chested, as I feel like less of a woman. On others, I count myself blessed, because a tank top and a lack of a bra can transform me into a man.

I have been friends with trans people before, and when they came out, I remember feeling like I suddenly didn’t know them. This could not be further from the truth— the Me on the inside, that you are friends with, that you write with, that you occasionally say hi to? They have always been genderfluid. Only now is that being brought to the surface. If you are friends with me, then you have always loved a man without knowing. Nothing about who I am has changed, apart from the fact that I am bringing myself to the surface.

I can think of no other way to explain how I came to this conclusion than to tell my story. I hope that you can all recognise that this part of the post should be unnecessary. I hope that, if I were to end my post here, that you would be able to respect me for who I am, and who I am now realising I have always been. That said, I know that many people do not recognise gender fluidity as legitimate, and I am aware of the fact that simple exposure and explanation is one of the best ways to move towards acceptance. There is a reason many people who live in cities tend to be more accepting of others as a whole— exposure to diversity inherently breeds acceptance.

My story, through the lense of roleplay.

I began to roleplay when I was 17, and joined the lewd community less than 2 weeks after my 18th birthday. My story, however, begins earlier than that, with a brief insight into my real life. I shall be as vague as possible. I am a minor public figure out of character who makes a career off of public perception, and as such, my roleplay accounts being linked to my real life identity could derail my income source. Therefore, detail is impossible. I hope you understand.

When I was very young, I came to the conclusion I was bisexual. I was apparently the last to know this— my coming out was mercifully uneventful. Several years later, I realised that my bisexuality was me still holding onto the patriarchal view that I needed male fulfilment in my life. I coined myself a lesbian. That much has not changed since— although I suppose, after this change, I am now sometimes a straight male. I haven’t thought of myself as straight in a very long time. It is... unusual, after so long.

By the time I joined roleplay I was confident in my sexuality. I thought I was as confident in my gender— I was a “Woman”, capitol W. I did not see the already beginning signs of my gender identity shining through, such as the way I was very stereotypically a “dyke”, but crucially, only sometimes. I felt increasingly like something was wrong. Like I was just a brain, trapped in a body. I didn’t link this to gender issues at all. I assumed it was existential restlessness.

Very early on, I began to play “hung” characters. I found comfort in them, in the idea that I wasn’t less of a woman for wanting a dick, in the fact that I could actually have one! My characters have been varied, but I have returned to this many times. I have only recently realised that this was a projection of my gender issues. I also suffered from “penis envy”, which I would later discover was the beginning of dysphoria. One of my closest friends (Mila, aka @/NYMPHVILE for those who know her) is bisexual, and every time she spoke about sleeping with a man, I felt this pain in my chest. Someone made her happy— and I could never provide that same feeling for her. This should have been a sign long ago about who I was.

One day, I was speaking about these feelings with another of my friends— Mew, aka @/mew_writes, who has too many characters to list here. He suggested, almost nonchalantly, that I might be non binary.

Oh boy.

What followed was a several week long panic. I struggled to believe I was non binary— how could I be, when I associated so strongly with gendered features on both sides of the spectrum? No, I could not be. I talked to non binary people, researched it in my own time. No. It didn’t quite fit.

It was Mila who suggested genderfluid. I told her how I felt and that I might be non binary, and she responded with “that sounds like gender fluid to me.” Truthfully, I didn’t believe it could be possible at first. I didn’t believe gender could fluctuate like that— the people who did that were just making stuff up! In our current world, where women and men can dress as they want, you weren’t gender fluid— that was just your fashion sense.

This was, of course, tied to my views, due to a lack of exposure to gender fluidity. It took time to move past it— but I did, and I stopped gaslighting myself and trusted my instincts.

Once I accepted my gender fluidity, I still rejected masculinity, believing instead that I just fluctuated between female and non binary. With retrospect, this was a fear thing. I had always been gay. Always loved women. Always been a woman. If I was a man? I was a straight guy. I was the same as the men who had denied me so many freedoms, just some guy. It was foolish, of course. Straight men are as diverse and different as every other demographic, and besides— I’m not even a cis man, and I’m not male 100% of the time by a long stretch. This patriarchal worry kept me questioning for weeks longer.

I came to the final conclusion almost unceremoniously. Me and Mila agreed that it was likely an aversion to men, and because it was a masculine day, she began to use male pronouns and we continued as if nothing happened. It didn’t feel right until later that night. I’ll never forget when she called me a good boy for going to sleep on time. It was— dare I say— life changing, and it’s likely she didn’t even realise how much so. I am very lucky that she is bisexual.

A minor tangent.

This part is specifically addressed to those who believe hung accounts are wrong. If you do not feel this, there is little point to you reading this tangent. Feel free to skip ahead.

Here is the part where I very slightly preach at you. Many of the people within the trans community dislike hung characters, feeling like they are being fetishised. There is a large part of me that understands and agrees with this sentiment. If you are playing a hung character but disagree with trans rights or deny trans existence, please educate yourself. Seriously.

Howver, I also urge the trans people within the community to not be too harsh on these characters. I myself would not have discovered my own identity without playing these characters. It’s also worth noting that these characters normalise the idea that a woman with a dick should still be treated as a woman. I am, on an increasing amount of days, a man with a vagina. I have never seen a character portray this, and I would love for it to be normalised.

As part of this point, I also ask you to consider how roleplay functions as an escape. Almost every character in roleplay is what in any other circumstance would be considered a “Mary-Sue.”— a version of the author that represents a desire and encapsulates that feeling. I desperately, desperately wanted a dick, and I couldn’t explain why. Now I can. Not everyone is so fortunate— it has taken me years to come to this conclusion. If a “cis male” is playing a female character but still playing hung, consider what that means. They desire being identified as female so much that they enjoy being thought of as one in the eyes of other people. If a “cis woman” is playing a hung character, she may well be like I was— someone who has not found themselves yet.

These people may also find comfort in the idea that they would be accepted as their preferred gender, without being demeaned within that acceptance because of what is beneath their clothes. That is why many may call themselves hung instead of trans: an escape from that label may be appealing. In my case it was the opposite— legitimising my feelings of dysphoria while being able to continue feeling like a woman made me feel legitimate and happy. I could explain away my feelings while remaining a Cis woman. For so long, I lied to myself— but a part of me doubts I would have ever come to this realisation if I had not had that in-between step.

Many may not even realise this, and it may take time for them to discover whether or not they feel as such. I know many trans women in particular flock to the roleplay community for that very reason— escape from the discomfort of the realities of their physical form.

Then again, perhaps I am reading too much into it. However, in my case, these characters have helped me become who I really am. I urge hesitance with these accounts from the trans community. Not everyone is at the same point in their journey, and ultimately, roleplay is a way that we can become whoever we desire, whether we do so in a lewd way or not. If you disagree with that, I understand why, but that is how I feel on the matter, and I feel like now more than ever I have a degree of authority, however small and insignificant. Every time another account told me I was wrong for the character I played, it felt like a blow to the stomach, and I had no idea why. Turns out, it was the reminder that my outward appearance was reason enough for society to not accept the idea of me having a dick, even in a fantasy world where having one was physically possible.

Why I’m Genderfluid, and other realities.

Many people may wonder why I feel this way. This answer is unfortunately the least complicated, and the most unsatisfying.

I don’t know.

I wish I could give you a medical reason. A brain scan that showed how hormones are flipping me back and forth. But I just... can’t. I question my own sanity regularly, but I am coming to realise that this question is not a part of the real answer. The reality is this:

I’ve spent 19 years NOT being gender fluid. And I can’t spend another day living like that. It’s not that I know for certain with any of this. It’s simply that this is me, and I cannot change it, any more then I can reconstruct my face or delete my memories and upload new ones.

Many people also wonder if this is permanent. This is once again an answer that is painfully disappointing. I simply do not know. This may change— in fact, it is a difficult reality that it is likely. I know more than most that gender is a fickle and fluid thing. Maybe this is a middle step, like my non binary phase was, where I am running from the reality of being a trans man. Maybe this is a phase, where I feel I cannot love a woman while being wholly female, due to internalised homophobia.

But there is another reality worth addressing. No state of being is permanent. Whether I am genderfluid forever or not doesn’t matter. The fact is that now, in this moment, that is my best understanding of myself. If I discover another reality about myself, this does not erase this period of my life from my history. It also will not erase the memory of who was ok with me being who I really am, and who was not. I have tried being cis. I have hidden behind masks all my life. Sooki, my real life persona, Ashley, all my other characters— all masks to a certain degree. Cis was another mask I wore. Now it is off, and I will remember those who screamed and ran away when they saw what was beneath.

What happens with your roleplay characters?

Finally, an unashamedly fun party of the topic.

My characters have always felt just like that: characters. I act in ways that I would not on them all the time. All of my characters will remain as the gender they are, and will continue to well into the future. If I make a new character, I will specify their gender identity, and that will be that. They are not the same as me out of character.

Except for one.

Ash has always been a surrogate for me. Since the moment I made them, they have felt like a character that I can put myself into. They have diverged greatly from Halsey’s real life (although perhaps ironically, I have ultimately ended up following Halsey into a non cis life, as she came out as she/they non binary earlier this year). Me and Mila, along with a host of my other friends, have expanded her into a character with a rich backstory.

As such, I will be making Ash genderfluid to match myself. I understand the urge to make her just like me physically as well. However roleplay is an escape for me, and I quite enjoy the lewd community. Ash is an idealised version of myself, and this will hardly be the first time I have explored something that is not physically possible. And as such:

Ash will physically match my gender identity of the time. This means the whole 9 yards— when female, she will be as she has been up until this point. However, when he is male? No boobs, wider shoulders, maybe even a little bit of body hair, and a cock. It will be large too— I’m a size queen/king and I have no shame in doing such. The stereotypical masculinity of it is a fantasy I could live in forever, a positive pool in which I am able to swim in through my phone. I am able to present with this character as I wish to be one day— and although this is unrealistic with current technology, it is what I dream of. To be very clear— I would be doing this within my mind whether or not it was public and whether or not I was a lewd account. However, I am fond of the lewd community, and to me there is no greater affirmation of my gender than sexual affirmation. I am sure of this decision.

I am lucky to have chosen such a good FC. Halsey speaks to me as a person, and that connection, with retrospect, is not for naught. Halsey presents very masculine at times, giving me material of the same person presenting as both genders and allowing me to keep my FC. I will not be changing character in any way.

For example:

Female presenting:

Male presenting:

This transformational ability will also have an in universe explanation. I will be detailing this more in Ash’s updated backstory, which, if you are seeing this post, is updated and can be found here.

It will involve a little bit of magic, and be tied in with the story of Zia, aka @/NYMPHQUEEN, who helped me craft the story behind it.

So how do I act?

This part is simple! My pronouns will be in my bio. When role playing with me, treat me as a writer and Ash within the scene as you would a cis person of that gender. It’s really that simple.

Some more specifics, for those who would like them.

If we are within a scene and naked, or anything like that— feel free to continue writing within that gender even if I change. I will simply respond when my gender matches the plot and the roleplay will not make me feel dysphoric. No need for mid-story transformations. Easy.

Casual terms like bro, dude, darling, ect ect? All fine regardless of pronouns. My mind considers them gender neutral and I am not fussed about them.

If you slip up, don’t stress. I’m still getting used to this too, and I’m a forgiving person. However, if you disrespect me by deliberately avoiding using the pronouns very obviously displayed in my name, that will be when we have a problem. Then you’re just deliberately being a dick.

Conclusion.

I would like to thank my friends for helping me realise this about myself. In particular, the 3 mentioned in this post: Mew, Mila and Zia. You 3— plus all those knew about this before I went public— have helped me become comfortable enough in this decision to make it public.

And lastly: thank you to you, who has stuck through my long rambling to the end. I hope I have changed your views on gender fluidity if you did not believe in it before, and I hope that, whoever you are, you can respect me as a person and allow me to be myself.

But, I digress. I have rambled for far too long. In the words of Marcus Tullius Cicero:

“If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter.”

Thank you. I love you.

Sooki (He/She)

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always-against-the-grain · 4 years

Text

thirds

Summary: You invite Negan over for dinner when your parents are out of town. Continuation of party favor

Pairing: AU Negan x reader (female, named Eddie)

Tags: AU Negan, Negan smut, Negan x reader, rough-ish smut

A/N: no proof read. we die like men

“Oh, fuck” you complained to no one, feeling your muscle soreness settling in as you hopped off your fathers SUV.

You had just come back from the gym and were excited to have the house to yourself. Your folks left town for your mother’s work and you had your whole night planned, get a stoned, eat some lasagna your mom pre-made for you, shower, smoke some more, watch some stand-up, and rub one out.

As you walked towards your front door you heard the faint clinking noises, accompanied by soft rock music; noticing Negan’s half open garage, beaming white light escaping onto the gray pavement.

You entered your home and read the note on the counter:

Eddie,

Your dad and I left for my work trip (that free loader). Left some lasagna in the fridge. 375 45 min.

Love you,

mom (and dad)

DONT USE THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL. Negan will take a look tomorrow at 9am, so please be up to let him in and get coffee going.

Knowing Negan was going to be in your home soon brought tingles to your insides. Reminiscing on how you fucked you in the bathroom a little over a week ago.Your memories aroused you, but frustrated you as well, remembering how he toyed with you that firework infused night.

You snapped yourself out of it and began setting the oven when the door bell rang.

You walked over an peeked through the side window.

Negan?

You opened the door and without a proper greeting you asked, “Um, weren’t you supposed to come by tomorrow?”

“Well hello to you too” Negan commented on your weak hospitality.

“And yeah, for the sink... I’m just here to let you know you left your headlights on” he informed you, tilting his head to the direction of the driveway.

“You couldn’t call?” You questioned his motives for being at your doorstep.

Not that you wouldn’t fuck him over and over, but you wanted to be the one to initiate that. He wasn’t gonna control the situation this time.

“Your folks got rid of the landline.”

That comment served as a potent reminder that you hadn’t physically lived in that house other than school intermissions, and that you didn’t know that much about Negan regardless of how good friends he and your parents were.

“And I don’t have your number, cause that would be inappropriate” He added with a smirk, knowing you were miles past appropriateness.

“Funny” you commented on his response in a dead-panned tone.

You reached for the keys on their respective hook on the wall and walked out towards the car, Negan followed behind. You unlocked it and reached your arm in to switch the lights off.

You shut the car door, noticing Negan was cutting through the lawn, half way towards his front door.

Having already gotten you slice of Negan you couldn’t resist him. Flashes of what tonight could potentially lead to infiltrated your mind.

Fuck

“Hey!” you called out to him.

Negan stopped in his tracks and turned his head towards you.

“You like lasagna?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

Should he enter your home without your parents? What if a neighbor saw? What would they think?

“Is it your mothers or that frozen shit?”

“It’s a Frankie original”

“Fuck. Alright” he was easily convinced.

Your mom did make a mean lasagna.

You set the prepared lasagna on the counter as you continued to wait for the oven to heat.

“You can take a hit of that if you want” you gestured towards the packed glass pipe and lighter sitting at the edge of the bar countertop.

“This what you always do when your parents aren't around?” He asked, reaching for the pipe.

“Smoke? Or invite not-age-appropriate men over?” You teased.

“Both” he said as he struggled with the lighter.

Spark after spark with no flame.

“I think that ones out. Let me get another” you skipped upstairs to your room.

Negan waited patiently, flipping through his phone. He noticed some leftover oil and grim on his fingers and got up to wash his hands. While you were in ransacking your drawers, your phone rang downstairs.

Negan let the first call go, but when the second call came he peaked over, concerned it was one of your parents needing to get a hold of you.

He was thrown off by the name on the screen.

Myles

“Found one” you said coming down the steps, Negan in the middle of drying his hands.

“Here” you handed it to him feeling the dampness on his fingers.

“Thanks doll. Your phone rang by the way” He let you know as he sat back down on one of the stools.

Negan took a couple hits as you opened up your phone and typing a quick message before setting it down.

Negans curiosity quickly unraveled.

“So whose Myles?” Negan asked, smoke exiting along with his words, “Myles with a Y...”

“Um. He is.. he’s my.. boyfriend” you said awlwardly, knowing how fucked up it sounded.

“If he’s your boyfriend, why the hell did you sleep with me. Twice for that matter” Negan questioned, almost interrogating you

“One, don’t come at me like that,” your defenses riding

“Two, it’s not like I’m doing anything he’s not already doing” you replied, taking a hit.

“Shit really? How do you know?”

“We were on a date one night, it was a normal day” you spoke holding your breathe and smoke in.

“and- and I don’t know, I looked at him, and I just knew.” Your voice becoming clearer as the white clouds left your body.

Woman’s intuition, Negan thought to himself. Reflecting on his own past.

“And his messages proved it so, there’s that” you added.

“Shit I’m sorry doll” Negan empathized, taking the pipe for his turn.

“It’s okay...” you said, a bit of sadness painting over your face.

“...you’ve help me get over it quite a bit” your voice lightening up, trying to keep yourself from getting down.

“Does he know you know?” he asked sparking another hit.

“Nah, not yet.”

“Why haven’t you told him? Hoping to work it out?” Smoke blowing from his lips

“Fuck no!” you laughed

“I didn’t confront him about it cause it was right before summer, he’s abroad, I’m doing an internship here. Would’ve been really stressful dealing with a break up right now.”

“But that a bridge we’ll cross when we get there, in the mean time I’m just gonna dick around” you said nonchalantly as you reached for the pipe once more, intentionally grazing his hand half a second slower.

Your final hit closed the conversation on your relationship.

You set the pipe down, free for Negan to grab if he’d like to continue.

“Okay, what about you? What’s your is deal, what do you do around here?” You guided the conversation towards his occupation, rather than his love life, worried that that information might put you off.

Negan grabbed the pipe.

“I teach” he said before taking a puff.

“You teach? You? A cigarette smoking, beer drinking, motorcycle driving, bachelor?” You busted his balls

“First of all honey, there’s not a wrong way to live a life. And secondly, I know I’m not perfect. Hell, I’m light years from perfect, but I am proud of what I do. I’m a good ass teacher, I make these kids find awe in bi-fucking-ology .”

“Biology? I’m sorry, but this is wild! I didn’t expect you do me a science geek.” You were actually intrigued, “How’d you get into teaching?”

“Well, I did my undergrad degree in biology. And I TA-ed a course and I realized I really liked teaching so after graduation I went ahead and got my Master’s in education.”

“Wait, I thought you coached”? You jumped to the next question

“I do that too. I teach 4 classes, 2 intro bios, 1 ap bio, and one health period. Then coach after school”

”What do you coach?”

“Coach women's basketball in the winter, and help out with baseball in the spring.”

“I’m guessing you like it? You seem very passionate.”

”I love this teaching shit. Plus, I’m someone these kids can talk to, someone who can guide them and be raw-fully honest about anything- I don’t patronize these kids. I get to be the person I needed at their age, it’s a sweet gig” He couldn’t help the smile spreading on his face

This conversation fine tuned your image of Negan. You found yourself lost in the dichotomy of it all. Here he was, shirt covered in black oil stains, smoking weed, cursing, yet vulnerable, gentleness peaking through his macho-ness.

Beep

You walked over to lay the lasagna on the rack. Negan admiring your ass as you bent over. He stared for as long as he could. Blood flowing to his manhood.

“So, we got 45 minutes to kill” you closed the oven and walked around the counter towards him.

Your hands went towards his knee cap, pushing his leg out to fit your stature between his seated figure.

“What can Coach Negan teach me in that time?” you whispered as your lips gravitated towards his.

You wantonly kissed him. Sliding your tongue in his mouth to wrestle with his. His hands firmly cupped your ass, pulling you closer to him.

“There she is.” He applauded, as you tugged on his lower lip.

“I was waiting for your dirty side to come out and play” he said, knotting his fingers through your hair that was in a post-work-out messy bun.

You tried to bring your mouth back to his and you got close, but his firm grip held you back.

“Uh-huh” he said, barely audible.

Negan stuck his tongue out slightly, leaning towards you. Your lips were ready to welcome him, before he sprung back.

“Fucker” You let out a sigh that was between a laugh and utter frustration.

He toward over you, staring at you lustfully.

He had you desperate for more. Negan felt your try to fight against his grasp again.

“You lack patience” He informed you, keeping you away from him.

“And you’re a tease” You immediately shot back at him

He closed his fist further, the taut strands pulling on your scalp, “I’m not a tease. I just know what you can handle.”

“I don’t think you do” You were up for the challenge.

“Oh, honey” He smirked doubtfully.

Butterflies flooded your gut, tingles shot across your upper back. You were nervous, but gave him no indication of that, so he figured he’d teach you lesson, put you in your place.

“Other than the word ‘stop’ is gonna make me stop. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes” You answered attempting to kiss I’m once more.

Negan kept a tight grip of you hair, but allowed you to bring your mouth to his.

He brought his other hand to your clothed center. Pulling his lips away to see your reaction.

Breathily moans began spilling out of you. Your eyes fluttering shut, focusing on his touch.

He stopped his maneuvers, “Look at me”

Once you opened your eyes and locked with his he resumed to pleasure you.

He stood up, hands still wrapped in your hair and on your womanhood. He kept you neck extended, staring into your eyes as you both stumbled toward the living room couch. His eyes told you he was excited to show you what you had not yet experienced.

He gave your final rubs before as you arrived to the L-shaped couch.

You began undressing other other. As each item of clothing disappeared you found new areas to grope each other.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled as you reached for his heavy member, pumping him slowly.

Negan grabbed the sides of your jaw, giving you a nasty kisses before directing you in a face down position. He placed you on your knees, your rear directed upwards. The feeling the cool air gust over your wet center gave you shivers.

He lightly tapped your clit with his dick. He did that multiple times before sliding it between your folds, lubricating himself with your fluids.

“Ugh Negan... fuck” you mewled

You started to lean back into him, wanting more contact. Negan didn’t appreciate it that. He held your hip tightly with his other hand as he teased you for what felt like hours. He eventually stuck the tip of his cock inside you and sat still.

You knew if you moved he would make you wait longer. You decided to be patient and let him make the call. Admitting to yourself that he took the wheel form you once more.

Once you’re breathing settled, Negan stuck the entire length of his member in one motion, accompanied by a load groan.

“Oh fuck” you yelled as your entrance stretched around him.

Negan brought his hand to the side of your face to hold you down. You felt your check rub harsher against the couch cushion as he built up speed. The sound of his balls slapping against your wet pussy filled the family room.

His thrusts were euphoric and dominating. He was punishing you and wanted you to enjoy it.

In between his plunges you were able to catch a whiff of his cologne with his natural musk sprinkled in. That scent did something primal to you.

Your felt your release was close.

“Ne-, I’m- I’m” you started to inform him.

He began to force himself harder and deeper. You couldn’t keep your position, your pelvis dropped, your leg fell of the edge, squirming and kicking.

“Mmmmm!! Fuck!” Your toes splayed as your climax enveloped you.

You thought Negan would slow down after cumming that hard, but he kept pushing into your prone body at the same pace. Your hand reached back to brace his quad, hoping to diminish his thrusts.

Negan roughly gripped the hand that was trying to stop him and pinned it over your head, his long torso over your back, closing the space between you.

His hips continued to drive into you as he growled in your ear, , “This is what punching above you’re weight class is baby.”

You began moaning, not you’re typical moans though. The sounds escaping you sounded like a porno. If you heard a voice recording of this moment you would swear it was staged

Groans bubbled and escaped Negan as he felt his release building.

He clenched your hair and pulled out of you. You were relieved as you were becoming over sensitive.

He brought his member over your face, holding your head down onto the cushions.

His manhood hovered over you, swiftly pumping himself.

“ughhh” You heard his as his warm milky seed splattered on the side of your face.

He was breathing fast and heavy after his release. He used his member to scoop some of his cum from your cheek and brought it into your mouth.

“Dirty girl” he smiled as welcomed his cock, and sucked tenderly on his bulbous head, extracting all of him.

Afterwards Negan helped you sit up.

He picked up your shirt from the ground and handed it to you to wipe your face.

“Thanks” you said weakly, yet satisfied.

He sat beside you. Hand grazing your thigh, slowly working towards your center, as you rid your face of his seed.

The instant his finger touched you nerve bundle, you jolted away from him, lightly swatting his hand away.

“You okay?” He chuckled, stopping his movements but pulling you back close to him.

“Yeah” you answered “It was just a lot, but it was really good”

“Are you gonna listen to me now? When I say what you can handle and what you can’t?”

“Yeah”

He stared at you, wanted a different answer.

You know that look. It was the ‘yeah’-is-not-an-answer look, given to you by your own coaches.

“Yes” you said clear and respectfully.

“Good” He brought his lips to yours, slipping his tongue through.

Your make out session was interrupted by the oven.

Beep

“Let’s eat” He said.

____________________

After dinner you both hopped in the shower. You had sex again. And he was much slower and gentle in that second round.

Negan sat the edge of your bed, towel around his waist. He looked around your room, while you found something suitable for him to wear.

Half of your room was neat and well put together. The other half looked like an artists went on a bender. The wall and ground were littered with your drawings and ongoing project ideas.

“Here” you handed him unisex navy blue tee and sweats, “Let me know if they fit or not.”

You went back to your dresser to dress yourself in a Nike long sleeve and compression shorts

“How’d that work out?” You asked facing away from him.

“Take a look” He said waiting for you to see what was wrong.

You turned around and didn’t see anything fit too tight or too loose. Then you noticed the sweats were well above his ankles

You burst out laughing “Never thought I’d see you in capris“

“They fit around the waist, that’s what matters” He laughed

You both went back downstairs. Drank beer and played the stand up you had planned on watching. You both sat close to each other, in the very spot you had fucked earlier.

Mid-way Negan interrupted the special, “Hey, when do you head back to school?”

“Two weeks. We’re gonna have a little party. I’m sure my folks will invite you. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering” he said, but he really was plotting your farewell gift.

#negan x oc #negan x reader #negan #negan smut #Negan's thirst squad

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