#i promise more of my posts in the future will be less bulky

[thealtoduck]

Glass Shoes

Jason Todd x Male Reader

Warnings: None

Prequel to The Socialite and The Vigilante | Masterlist

Summary: Your mother Silver St. Cloud introduces you to her boyfriend’s sons Dick and Jason…

(A/n: Sorry if i’m posting a lot of this but i’m having fun :)…)

——

”Where are we going? I thought we were eating dinner with your boyfriend” you asked looking out the window of the car not recognising the area it was driving through. ”We are but me and Bruce decided it was time you and his sons get to meet, so he invited us for dinner at his house” your mother explained.

The car stopped at a gate, your mom pressed a buzzer and soon the gates opened and your mom drove up the long driveway stopping in front of the immense garndeur Wayne manor. Making you question ”Is this what you call house now? Mom, i think dating a billionare is starting to get to you”.

Your mom chuckled and ignored your statement. The two of you got out of the car and she led you towards the front door. You tugged a bit at the uncomfortable collar of the button up your mom had made you wear to make ”a good first impression”.

Your mom rang the doorbell and soon it opened revealing your mom’s boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, ”Silver” he greeted and pulled her in to a hug giving her a quick kiss on the lips. His attention then turned to you and he greeted ”Hi Y/n, how are you?”.

”I’m good but i hate this shirt, it’s itchy” you answered. Bruce smiled and said charmingly ”I promise you won’t have to wear it for your future visits but can you stick it our for tonight?”. ”Okay” you replied as you adjusted the collar again.

Bruce then led the two of you inside, showing you where to hang your jackets. He then led you towards the dining room. The manor was as fancy as it looked from the outside with a very luxurious interior, it had everything from paintings, chandeliers and statues.

You then came to the dining room, it had a high ceiling with a big chandelier that hung over a long dining table decorated with a smooth white table cloth and silver candleabras. As you entered two people were stood waiting for you, it was Bruce’s sons.

If you remembered correctly from what your mother had told you one was named Richard but usually just went by Dick and the other was named Jason. They were both dressed up as well. Dick, the older of the two was tall and handsome, he wore a fancy dark grey suit with a dark blue tie.

Jason was a year or two older than you but even for his age he was quite bulky, he was dressed similar to you, a button up covered by a sweater and dress pants. ”Silver, Y/n, these are my sons, Dick and Jason” he introduced.

Dick was the first one to come over to greet your mother, he shook her hand with a smile and said ”It’s really nice to finally meet you Silver, we’ve heard a lot about you”. He then turned to you with his shining smile and held out his hand.

You took it and he introduced himself in a friendly tone ”Hi Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you, i’m Richard but you can call me Dick if you want to”. ”Hi Dick, it’s really nice to meet you too” you greeted trying to match his positive energy. Then it was Jason’s turn, he approached slightly more drawn back, not as big of a smile as Dick.

”Hey Silver, nice to meet you” he said simply as he shook her hand, he seemed less formal than Dick but not in a way that would be considered rude but in a way that seemed more grounded. When he turned to you his smile got a bit more boyish and relaxed.

You shook hands and he greeted ”Really nice to meet you, Y/n”. ”You too” you answered. The five of you then moved and sat down at the dining table, you and your mom on the left side, Jason and Dick on the right and Bruce at the head of the table.

Soon dinner was served by their butler named Alfred and he had not held back on his cooking for the dinner. The main dishes, the side dishes, even the bread and butter tasted like heaven. Once he finished serving he sat down across from Bruce and joined the dinner.

Most of dinner was spent with your mother asking Dick and Jason questions in an attempt to get to know them better and Bruce and Dick doing the same to you. Dick told several fun stories when asked questions and was good at keeping the conversation going. Jason wasn’t as talkative as his brother and kept his answers short.

Bruce asked you all the regular ”mom’s new boyfriend” questions, where you go to school, what you like doing in your free time, if you liked sports, in that case what kind?…

Overall it was a very nice dinner, once you finished Dick turned to you and asked ”Hey Y/n would you like me to show you round the manor?”. ”Yeah” you said excitedly and the two of you got out of your seats. Dick turned to Jason and asked ”You wanna come?”.

”Sure” Jason said, probably going for the sake of not being left alone with all the adults where he’d be forced to make conversation. It was very hard to tell how long the tour was, the manor was so big and felt almost neverending.

Later in the evening it became time for you and your mother to leave, you both said goodbye to Dick, Jason and Alfred. Bruce then walked you and your mom out to her car. ”That all went pretty well wouldn’t you say” he commented.

”Agreed” she said. Bruce then turned to you saying ”It was really nice seeing you again Y/n, i hope you liked the manor” giving you a light pat on the shoulder. ”Yeah, it’s really cool, thanks for having us” you said politely.

You mother unlocked the car with her keys and you said a goodbye to Bruce and opened the door and sat down next to the driver’s seat, you could see your mom and Bruce give each other a passionate goodbye kiss in the rearview mirror.

You looked away in childlike disgust at scene. Your mom sat down in the drivers seat and immediately turned to you asking ”So… what did you think?” as she started the car. ”They seemed very nice, i hope we can come back sometime, Dick promised he’ll show me how to do a cartwheel” you said.

”That’s good, it felt important you guys finally got to meet, since me and Bruce have been dating for a while now” she stated as she drove down the driveway. Little did you know you would be back quite soon…

——

The next time you saw the manor it felt more intimidating, it was your new home…

Your mom and Bruce had decided to move in together. So you were now unloading the moving truck of boxes containing your and your mothers belongings and bringing them into Wayne Manor. Bruce, Jason and Alfred helped you and your mother carry everything inside.

The room you got in the manor was much bigger than your room in your mom’s old apartment, and that was already pretty big. You didn’t even know what to do with this much space. It took a while to getting used to living in the manor. The sheer size of it made it feel like you were living in a maze of hallways and rooms.

Having a butler that seemed to know everything you needed before you knew yourself also took some getting used to. If ever you felt hungry and were on your way down to the kitchen to make a snack Alfred was already there making you a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate.

But Bruce and Alfred were both good company and tried their best to take time off their schedule to spend with you. Alfred would even help you out with your homework whenever you needed it.

Jason wasn’t as happy with you and your mom moving in, you assumed he thought it was to early in Bruce’s and your mom’s relationship for something so major. Though beyond your knowledge it was actually because he thought the two of you would be distracting and get in the way of his and Bruce’s mission as Batman and Robin.

Despite you and your mom being unaware of their secret you both noticed something was off. They’d be nowhere to found for a full day and then suddenly appear in the manor as if nothing happened. You assumed the manor was just big enough for you to completely miss their presence at home.

Despite his hesitance Jason still enjoyed your company and the two of you would spend a lot of time together, whether it’d watching movies, playing videogames or studying. You were often found cuddled up together with a bunch of blankets in the living room having movie marathons.

Dick would occasionally come visit from Blüdhaven, when he had the time. He’d take you and Jason out to fun things like taking you to a amusement park or events and parades held in town.

A couple months after you were fully settled in to life at the manor your mom and Bruce announced during a dinner that they were now engaged. Meaning Bruce would become your step-dad and Dick and Jason would become your stepbrothers. And Alfred… well he would still be your butler but now it would feel more official.

——

Though only a couple of weeks later your mom would come in to your room, late in the evening with news. ”Hey mom, what’s up?” you said as you exited your bathroom having just bushed your teeth. ”Come sit” she would say softly sitting down at the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside her.

You’d do as told and sit down next to her, she had a sad smile on her face as she grabbed your hand and said slowly ”Me and Bruce have decided to break off our engagement”. The revelation left you in a stunned silence for a couple seconds before you uttered a confused ”Wh-What? Why?”.

”We realised it just wouldn’t work out between the two of us in the end, i’m sorry Y/n i know this meant a lot to you too” she said putting a hand around your shoulder pulling you in to a hug. You hugged her back and said ”It’s okay mom, i just want you to be happy”.

”We’ll start packing our things in a couple of days, make sure you get some rest now, goodnight” she’d say leaving you to get some sleep but the bombshell she had dropped kept you up that night.

Soon a small creak came from your door making you sit up in your bed and look at the intruder, it was Jason. ”Hey” he whispered. ”Hey, you couldn’t sleep either?” You asked quietly. He shook his head. ”Come here” you said making room for him on your bed.

He sat down on your bed, slipping in under the covers. ”I’m gonna miss living here with you, Bruce and Alfred” you told him. ”We’ll miss having you and your mom here too” Jason said wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him in a side hug.

”Look just because we don’t live together it dosen’t mean we’ll never see each other again” Jason said comfortingly. ”Yeah, i know but i was excited to have you as my older brother” you told him.

”Don’t worry St. Cloud, i’ve always got your back either way” he said making you smile despite your bad mood. ”Can you stay here tonight?” you asked him. ”Yeah” he said and two of you laid down in the bed cuddled together until you eventually fell asleep…

——

In the coming weeks you and Jason would go your seperate ways and not see each other for a long time. You’d attend a fancy academy in Europe and Jason would continue his work as Robin until he was killed at the hands of the Joker. However he would later be resurected and return as the Red Hood.

Little did the two of you expect that you would run in to each other at a gala many years later…

#jason todd x male reader #jason todd x male!reader #red hood x male reader #red hood x male!reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #batfam x male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfam x male!reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #batboys x male reader

[angelpriorarchive]

a comprehensive character creation guide

by kate (aka angelprior) 

hello all! this is going to be a very very long post, so i’ve put the meat of it under the cut, but recently i’ve embarked on a journey of severely in-depth characterization for the book i’m co-writing. i thought it would be helpful to both myself and any fellow writers out there to construct a complete and comprehensive set of questions by which to flesh out a character. this guide has over 200+ questions to help you get to know your character better, and to keep your character consistent throughout the story. it’s a great guide to save and come back to throughout your writing process; i’ve organized it into 10 categories (some with sub-categories for better accessibility) and have included some awesome resources that will hopefully help you along the way. this has been constructed with some assistance (i’ve done my best to give credit where credit is due, but if you find the source for something in this guide that is uncredited please let me know so i can give proper credit or take it down) and based off of some help i’ve gotten from past teachers in high school. this guide is solely based on characterization, so if you’re looking for some plot development guides you might have better luck elsewhere (although i have found that a deeper understanding of your characters helps a TON with plotblock). this guide can be used for original characters, both fantasy and real-world based, as well as rpg characters or helping you understand a character better for a fanwork. it can also be used to help you study a character you may be playing as an actor! (there are not necessarily too many fantasy-element based questions, but there are places where you can use whats applicable in your fantasy realm in place of real world alternatives, its all very open ended.) 

tl;dr, here is a guide of over 200 questions to help you become one with your characters, i hope you find it helpful and educational. thank you for your time. 

Character Basics & Physicality

okay, its time to flesh out the basics. knowing exactly who your character is will always begin with their very first formation. when you picture your character in your head, what do you see? you see their body, maybe their aura. likely you already have a name picked out. the vision you first get is their essence. mapping out a characters basic information and body structure is really only the skeleton of what your character can be. getting beyond these basics and adding more to their existence will make them more dynamic and relatable. humans, after all, are much more than we see on the surface. but that surface impression is a great place to start. think of this section as the “what my coworkers know about me” section, facts that can be gleaned through observation or light questioning. things someone would include in a bio, or put on an official document. a great resource for a quick bio page (one that was a HEAVY influence on this questionnaire) was this no-effort character sheet pdf by justsomecynic. i found it amazingly helpful, and they made an awesome printable pdf, so you can have a quick guide to your character ready when you need it! 

the following is split into two categories, basics & physicality. if you feel the need to add extra sections to cover something i missed, throw them in!

Basics

1. Full Name (this one is simple. be sure to include all names your character might have, and if you want, look up definitions of those names, or add what significant events led to your character having said names.)

2. Past Names (this is where you would include any names your character has been known by, either in previous points of your story or before it officially starts. think maiden names, names before transitioning, titles they may have lost, etc.)

3. Ethnicity (heritage is key! if you’re a boring mystery white american like me, your ancestry may have little to no influence on you, but for many others their ethic identity is in credibly influential on how they lead their lives, and how they’re treated. keep in mind: if you are writing for a character of a differing ethnicity from yourself, please do the proper research on what it’s like to live in that culture. obviously this applies to real world cultures, i’m sure none of us know any elves or mages that we could talk to, but if your character is real world based and does not share your cultural experiences, please make sure to connect with people who are actually of that ethnicity and reflect their narrative of living. it will save a lot of hurt, and your work will magnify in quality. please remember general human kindness when constructing any character.)

4. Age (again, straightforward, but if we see your character at multiple ages throughout the story, give a range.)

5. Sexual Orientation (if your character is written to feel a certain way but identify as a conflicting sexuality, write both what your character may be and what they think themselves to be. for example, i have a character that is written as asexual and has textbook asexual feelings, but never comes to terms with her asexuality and continues to identify as heterosexual. again, keep in mind your depiction of groups you do not belong to. my character is ace because i am ace, and i’ve written her to match the narrative of my experiences. but when it comes to my bisexual character, i’m constantly drawing advice from my bisexual friends and other resources to help form a more accurate narrative. be mindful, y’all.)

6. Gender Identity (same as above)

7. Employment Record (include any jobs your character worked both before the story and during. write it like your experience record on a resume!)

8. Criminal Record (character ever got caught breaking a law? served time? minor infraction? accomplice to murder? parking ticket? put it all here!)

9. Birth-date, Time, and Location (you may want to orchestrate this based on your characters birth chart, which we will get to, but make sure to include all circumstances under which your character came to be. not a natural birth? how did they come to exist?)

10. Professional Affiliations (this is a very career oriented segment, but basically this is where you would list some significant professional achievements. an md if they’re a doctor, a certified judge, minted military, ceo status, anything of that nature. the kind of stuff you’d have on a fancy plaque on a door.)

Physicality

consider this section the body basics. these are all things you would notice upon first glance or further study, things a doctor would learn in a routine checkup, things to look for in an actor or faceclaim. 

11. Build (what is your character’s body type & build? this heavily affects diet & exercise.)

12. Height (range if it changes)

13. Weight (range if it changes)

14. Eye Color (here’s a cool chart if you want to get technical with your selection!)

15. Hair

15a. Color (natural and artificial)

15b. Length (range if it changes)

15c. Style (put together a folder of some reference pictures on any styles your character has)

15d. Texture (not all hair is the same consistency! ethnicity plays a role in this. make sure your characters hair type/texture matches their heritage.)

16. Markings (this can be any number of things. tattoos, scars, birthmarks, skin conditions, etc. map them all out on a body model and keep a reference of the design & location of any tattoos, and what they mean to them! tattoos are purposeful & tell a story, write it.)

17. Physical Disabilities (if your character is not able bodied, what is their diagnosis? please do not write characters with disabilities if you have not researched the disability itself and gathered a narrative from folks who have it! with proper research, characters with disabilities are amazing and dynamic and bring representation we sorely need, but without accurate portrayals they become tokenized or stereotypical, and often written in a very ableist fashion. please! be! mindful!)

18. Posture (how does your character sit or stand and what affects this? for example characters with huge boobs will have horrible posture because of all the extra weight. characters raised in high society might have had excellent posture ingrained in them. keep in mind why your character is constructed the way they are, there’s a reason for everything.)

19. Gait (gait is a person’s manner of walking. is it confident? wonky? quick? slow? describe what it is and why.)

20. Vocal Quality & Tone (what does your characters voice sound like and what is their general tone? do they have resting bitch voice? do others find their voice high pitched and annoying?)

21. Volume & Speech Level (are they generally soft spoken or abrasively loud? does this change depending on their environment or remain the same?) 

22. Exercise Regimen (does your character keep their body in shape? how so and how often?)

23. General Health

23a. Diseases (has your character ever contracted/been diagnosed with a disease? research & accurately portray! mindfulness!)

23b. Eating/Weight Disorders (does your character have an eating disorder? an issue gaining or loosing weight? research & accurately portray! eating disorders are real, painful issues that deserve to be treated with respect. mindfulness!)

23c. Dietary Habits (what does your character consume? if you want, design a meal plan for a typical week in their lives. do they try to be healthy or eat whatever they want? any food allergies?)

23d. Allergies (anything your character is allergic to?)

24. Body Language (what does your characters body language look like in the following situations?)

24a. Upon First Meeting

24b. When Discomforted

24c. When in Love

24d. Average/Resting Behavior

24e. Type of Laughter

24f. Type of Cry

25. Appearance Through Physicality (on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the first word and 10 being the second, highlight the number that most accurately represents what your character would present through their physicality. for the first one, for example, just by looking at your character, would they seem more unkempt or meticulous? maybe they fall somewhere in the middle, perhaps a five or six.)

25a. Unkempt 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Meticulous

25b. Timid 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Confident

25c. Harried 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Callous

26. Physical Traits Developed Through Customary Activities (does your character have a physical action they’ve done so many times it’s become an integral part of their physicality? for example, when i was in elementary school other kids used to make fun of me for being short. so to make myself seem taller, i started walking on my toes. i did that so much for so long that now i walk wrong. when you step, you step with your heel first, but because i spent so many years walking that way, i step with my toes. it’s changed the makeup of my body! there are other things that have similar effects. for example, my character is a dancer, so she moves with much more grace and fluidity than others. a character also could have had a past injury, that caused them to be tender with certain movements, have a limp, etc. include all these kinds of things and why they came to be.)

Personality & Social Status

this one gets a little more complicated. here we’ve got 8 subcategories, because personality really can’t be fit into something so small. the full complexity of human beings will always be a fascinating study, and it is my belief that it’s why we create art. i believe that characters are written to show us things, reveal parts of ourselves, and help us gain a higher understanding of what it means to be human. this philosophy shines its brightest when characters are written with full fledged unique personalities. they become human to us when they have likes and dislikes, successes and flaws. personality is what helps a character become real, instead of a plot device wearing the clothes of a human being. your story will have ten fold its intended impact if it contains characters audiences can care about, and we seldom find time to care about two dimensional people. put as much as you can into this section. the more things you can think about, the better. make huge lists in response to these questions, especially about specific things! trying to decide what music your character would listen to? make a damn playlist! gather photos, come up with stories to add reason, put in as many little details as you like. every anecdote and arbitrary preference brings your character one step closer to the truth of being real.

Personality

27. Comforts (what things in life make your character feel comfortable and safe? people? places? textures? sounds? media? smells? anything! bonus: vividly describe their “happy place”.)

28. Vices (what are things your character can’t live without? any real and chronic addictions, like drugs or alcohol? unhealthy obsessions? things they can’t stop fangirling over? can’t go to work without a mocha?)

29. Personal Awareness (how well does your character know themselves? do they know exactly what they like? are they aware when they’ve made a mistake? do they have clear goals?)

30. Confidence Level (how confident is your character in their identity? presentation? behavior? choices? abilities?)

31. Temperament (how quickly are they angered? and by what? are they generally angry?)

32. Career Goals (in a perfect world where everything is achievable, what would be the one thing, or many things, they would want to do in their preferred line of work? what would they like to do in their imperfect world?)

33. Preferred Area of Study (what types of education are they enthusiastic about? have they done much in those areas?)

34. Educational Background (describe their entire schooling and education. list special achievements.)

35. Mental Disabilities (has your character ever been diagnosed with a mental illness? are they concerned they might have one, or have been written to have one, but not received an official diagnosis? describe and portray accurately. again, i cannot stress this enough, even if it is for a piece of fictional, fun writing, it is never okay to disrespect marginalized groups of human beings that you do not belong to. as i said before, representation is fucking important, but if you are not a member of the group you are not of the authority to portray their existence in any way you see fit. there is nothing wrong with having disabled characters. we need more of them. we need to bring visibility to them. but we cannot do so without their voices. it’s their lives, their narrative. do your research. talk to people. do everything you can to get feedback on your character and portrayal. be an advocate for representation, not a voice for stereotypes and bigotry. it is not hard to get assistance. again, your quality will magnify. lastly: please remember that folks with disabilities of any kind (i have seen this most commonly with mental illness but it happens frequently for others as well) are just as human as any able person. their disabilities (or rather our disabilities, i do belong to this group) do not make us any less human or real. don’t use us as a plot device. don’t use our illness as a plot device. we are human, we deserve to be written with clarity and respect. (okay i think this is the last time i will rant about this but NO GUARANTEES))

Inclinations

describe your characters behavior, both in physicality and activities, when in the following situations in detail.

36. When Content

37. When Aggravated

38. When Inebriated

39. When Insulted

40. When Attacked

41. When Praised

42. When Concerned

43. When Suspicious

44. When Trusting

45. When Ecstatic

Affectations

46. What They Lead People to Believe About Themselves (what kind of behavior does your character take on to present a certain image? what is that image? why is it important that they uphold that image?)

47. What They Do To Preserve Their Integrity (how do they act to keep up with their moral beliefs? what do they do to make it known to others that their integrity is intact?)

48. How They Hide A Lie

49. How They Present The Truth

50. Wardrobe

50a. How They Dress

50b. What it Signifies to Them

50c. What They Wish To Communicate Through Their Wardrobe

51. Possessions

51a. What Prevalent Possessions are Owned

51b. What it Signifies to Them

51c. What They Wish to Communicate Through Possessions

Preferences 

feel free to get super detailed here! make extensive lists of specific things, compile photos, booklets, anything. make moodboards! make playlists! archives, anything! have fun with this bit. give your character if somewhat unnecessary flair. you may never end up putting much about these facts in your stories, but you never know what might come up! these are the kind of things that make people people. we’ve all good random interests we’ve gathered along the years. if you want to go even more in depth, come up with anecdotes about how your character came to love these things. if you feel there’s something in one of these categories your character would despise, or more than one thing, list those out too!

52. Activities (both to observe and perform)

53. Genres and Art Types 

54. Food and Drink

55. Colors and Aesthetics (do they prefer warm tones or cool tones? designs with grecian influences? just really into things that remind them of clowns?)

56. Locations (both to be and to visit briefly, big or small scale)

57. People (both in their life, famous, or fictional)

58. Music

59. Literature (not restricted to “fancy books”, just writing pieces)

60. Media (films, television, comics, other)

61. Method of Transportation (both as a passenger and as a performer)

62. Method of Relaxation 

63. Sights 

64. Smells

65. Sensations (touch, motion, textures, i.e. skin to skin, roller coasters or swings, soft velvet)

66. Humor (what style of humor do they find the funniest? i.e. dry, political, situational, slapstick etc)

Distastes

a bit different than preferences, these would be categorically things that your character would find very difficult to put up with, instead of generally disliking. for example, when it comes to things like colors, we often have likes and dislikes based purely on opinion. i hate the color red. there’s no reasoning behind it, i just don’t like it as a color. so if your character dislikes a certain band because they find them annoying, or doesn’t want anything to do with circus themes, it would fit better above. but as with the following categories like archetype of person, there is usually very much a reason behind having disdain for a certain grouping of behaviors, so it would go below. 

67. Situations (whether it be social or physical)

68. Phobias

69. Archetype of Person (to clarify with this one; the purpose here is to profile, in essence, a grouping of behaviors that together are upsetting for your character. archetype means embodiment, so basically here you would describe the “embodiment” of what your character’s “nightmare human” would be. there are common archetypes in fiction, so you could bounce off of some of the established ones, or you could build your own from scratch. this isn’t intended to open up prejudice, although if your character is for example a prejudiced villain this could be the section to put those details in.) 

70. Interpersonal Behaviors (what are some behaviors your character sees happening between other people that they find deeply reprehensible?)

71. Sensations (any feelings or experiences to do with the senses that cause your character extreme discomfort and why)

72. Miscellaneous (any other things that are really upsetting to them!)

Social Environment

fill out the following seven questions for each of the three stages of life for your character. once for childhood, once for adolescence, and once for adulthood.

73. Residences (be exact. describe the buildings and situations in as much detail as possible, right down to floor plan and the neighbors.)

74. Familial Unit 

75. Familial Dynamic

76. Social Class

77. Significant Events

78. Relevant and Recurring Behaviors

79. Development of Maturity

Economic Class & Power Placement

unless your character happens to exist in some magical world where economics and social class are nonexistent, its likely you’ll need these next couple of sections. while they might not constantly bear relevance to the plot line or even be mentioned, it’s very important to know where your character stands when it comes to money and power. where we are in the social ladder so to speak has a very important role in our personal development, and can reveal quite a lot about your character. make sure to keep in mind any events or situations that might change where your character lies economically, and that actions have real world consequences. for example, if your character owns an expensive car, they need both the money and the time to purchase and maintain it, which is less money and time they have for other things. make sure to keep a realistic balance of what your character gains and what your character spends.

Economic Class

80. Average Annual Income 

81. Tax Bracket (what income bracket does your character fall in and how much are they taxed? is there special taxation depending on the area they live in? i.e. oregon has no sales tax but high property tax, california has lower property tax and sales tax)

82. How Income is Earned (what kind of job do they have & how are they paid? how often? is their job taxable? do they have dependents?)

83. Bills & Debts (amenities cost money. water, heat, food, electricity, rent, garbage, maintenance, transportation, phone, etc will all cost your character money to have. map out a required budget for your character including everything they need to survive and how much they spend monthly on it. include any debts owed, like student loans or credit card payments.)

84. What Their Money is Spent On

84a. For Purpose (what kind of larger, big ticket items would they save up for and then purchase? a car, computer, new house/home improvements, college fund, pets, children, investments, etc)

84b. For Pleasure (what are things they like to get for personal enjoyment? chronic shopper? new dvds every week? vinyl fiend?)

84c. Unnecessarily (gifts for others, frivolous extras, things bought solely as retail therapy, etc. different from pleasure because purchases made specifically to bring you happiness can be more impactful than purchases made with the mindset of “eh, why not.” think treat yo self vs convenient at-the-mall-smoothie)

84d. saver 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 spender

85. Monetary Goals (sort of the preliminary for 84a. the things they set their sights on economically, trust funds, etc. think big, give purpose. they want a sports car? why? what does it mean to them?)

86. Form of Assets (what form does their money come in? usd? euros? mythical money? barter system?)

Power Placement

87. Political Capabilities (what political powers do they have access to? i.e. the right to vote, right to protest, freedom of speech etc.)

88. Legal Rights Available (what legal/political powers are available to your character’s specific demographic? do they have access to all or some of them?)

89. Aspects That Give Them More Power (what aspects of their demographic may give them more power than others?)

90. Aspects That Give Them Less Power (what aspects of their demographic may give them less power than others?)

91. Activism Work

92. Destructivism Work (think the opposite of above. does your character carry a political agenda that works against human rights?)

93. Prominent Actions (led a march? murdered a president?)

94. Legal Battles (anything taken to court? can also be personal if not political, i.e. child custody battle or injury lawsuit)

95. Other (anything else? non real world specific?)

Types & Alignments

this one is mostly here for fun. these are a few extra ways of getting to know your character through personality tests, nerdy associations, astrology, etc. if you don’t know to what the question is referring (not in the fandom/don’t care to answer) just replace or skip it. 

Types

96. MBTI Personality Type (this one is an obvious starting point. take this test in character, and keep the descriptions in mind! i’ve found they’re scary accurate.) 

97. 9 Alignments Type (otherwise known as the dnd alignments, here’s a good test to see where your character is aligned.) 

98. Four Temperaments Type (the greek types, as you may have heard before. here’s a simple test.)

99. Keirsey Temperament Sorter Type (sort of a cross between the mbti and the four temperaments, this test is a bit more in depth info.)

100. Birth Chart (a persons astrological birth chart can reveal a lot about their personality & how they approach certain aspects of life. depending on what you have already established in your character, you may want to orchestrate their birth chart to match certain traits you’ve already given them. check out some of these guides for interpretation to help you decide how you want it arranged.)

101. Hogwarts House & Patronus

102. Starfleet Position

103. Middle Earth Race

104. Shadow-world Race (TMI series)

105. Superpower (if your character has a cannon one, or one they would have if they could)

106. Fictional Characters They Identify With (if they exist in our world, any characters we may know or be familiar with, if in a fictional world, someone there that could be prevalent i.e. in an old folk tale or something in that vein)

Alignments

in the same 1 to 10 rating format as previous

107. sinner 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 saint

108. passive 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 aggressive 

109. introvert 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 extrovert

110. isolated 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 friendly

111. unlikable 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 appealing

112. lazy 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 motivated

113. illiterate 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 intellectual

114. oblivious 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 perceptive 

115. fight 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 flight

116. disloyal 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 dependable

117. honest 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 deceptive

118. consistent 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 flaky 

119. uninspired 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 creative 

120. modest 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 boastful

Morality, Spirituality, & Culture 

depending on how deep of an attachment your character may have to these aspects, the following beliefs can often be huge influences on a character’s motivations and actions. being in touch with your characters beliefs and ethical climate will help make your character more in-depth and believable. it will give your character choices reason, and will help you avoid out of character moments.

Morality 

121. Greatest Motivation in Life (what is the number one most important thing your character must achieve that takes precedence over anything else? does your character even have one? why or why not?)

122. Objectives (other large goals/intentions that are pervasively prevalent)

123. What They Value Most (basically, what is their definition of success?)

124. Ethical Code (what do they define as good and evil? be specific)

125. Awareness of Own Morals (how well are they in touch with their moral beliefs? have they ever crossed a line they didn’t think they could and been okay with it? are they more of a goodie-two-shoes than they thought?)

126. Events That Have Shaped Beliefs (what significant events have caused them to believe the way they do about good and bad?)

127. Influential Persons (who has shaped these beliefs and how?)

128. Valued Behavior in Close Relationships (what are some of their most valued behaviors when it comes to their interpersonal relationships?)

129. Behaviors Taken to Uphold Morality (what do they do to prove to themselves they really do believe the way they say? not necessarily behaviors to make others see their morality, but to prove it to themselves.)

130. Challenges Made to Beliefs (what events or people have challenged their morals? did it cause permanent change? or a crisis of character?)

Spirituality 

131. Religion Or Spiritual Code (if they subscribe to an existing religion, please portray it with accuracy and mindfulness. remember when you’re writing that a stereotypical representation of a demographic does not make you a good writer or a good person. use your head.)

132. Relevance of Spirituality (how much does their spiritual beliefs play into their every day life?)

133. Daily Practices (anything they do regularly? i.e. prayer, celebrate a specific holiday, ritual behaviors, etc)

134. Evangelism (do they do any work to spread their beliefs?)

135. Influences of Spirituality (has their beliefs severely influenced anyone around them or made palpable change in their life/the life of someone close to them?)

Culture

136. Ethnic Culture (describe the culture of their ethnicity, both old age and now)

137. Social Culture (describe their current social culture)

138. Generational Culture (describe the culture of their generation, including the differences between theirs and others)

139. Relevance of Culture to Everyday Behavior (how much do the previous answers directly influence their behavior and in what way?)

140. Connection to Culture (how connected do they feel to those cultures?)

141. Desired Cultural Changes (in what ways do they wish to see things changed in their cultures? what would they like to change about how the rest of the world views their cultures?)

Obstacles and Shortcomings 

it’s always important to bear in mind how imperfect your characters are. not only to avoid encountering a mary sue (if you’re curious what that is, read here and take a test here to see just how much you’re doing it) but also to maintain the humanity of your character. people fuck up, a lot, on lots of things. characters will be more realistic and relatable if they have flaws. these can be flaws of a hero or very serious issues that make a character a villain. the previous sections are a great place to explore the mind of a villainous character, and here we can see a lot of the reasons why. failure pushes people in a lot of different and unpredictable ways, and these can often be why a character is driven to be the antagonist. (tips when writing an antagonist; if they are intended to be truly evil, and serve as an antithesis for your hero, they are often more dynamic and interesting if they have a motivation other than ‘being evil’. it could be an innumerate amount of things; maybe they want money, respect, revenge, absolution, need to prove themselves, etc. it does not have to be a noble or redeemable cause ((and imo they’re more evil and dislike-able if it isn’t)) but having some sort of shameful, immoral, human cause behind their acts will make them all the more vile.) on the flipside of this, having flaws in your hero makes people like them more, plain and simple. a perfect protagonist holds no connection for audiences, and we always have the desire to root for someone who has to work harder to overcome what they’re after. make your character earn their success. not just in giving them many plot-based challenges, but in challenges from themselves. overcoming your worst fear is more satisfactory than slaying the dragon. both are badass, and if you can do it in one go, go for it. but always bear in mind the truth of humans; we are not good at all of the things. make your character suck at some stuff!

Obstacles

142. Biggest Weaknesses

143. Biggest Fears

144. Economic Obstacles Preventing Goals

145. Societal Obstacles Preventing Goals

146. Interpersonal Obstacles Preventing Goals

147. Natural & Unavoidable Obstacles Preventing Goals

148. Self-Inflicted Obstacles Preventing Goals

Shortcomings

149. Biggest Failure (what is the one thing your character views as their biggest fuck-up?)

150. Consistent Failures (what are behaviors that they’re constantly kicking themselves for doing?)

151. Instances of Inaction (when are times that they’ve been able to stop something bad from happening and didn’t?)

152. Reasons for Inaction (why have they decided not to act/continued not to act?)

153. How Shortcomings are Internalized (how do they deal with their failures internally? what does it do to their psyche?)

154. How Shortcomings are Externalized (how do their feelings surrounding their failures manifest in their behavior?)

155. Corrective Behavior (what actions have they taken to combat their failure?)

Interpersonal Relationships

in the interest of ease and organization, this next section is a short mini-questionnaire that you can use to help keep your character’s relationships in order. the best way to utilize this section is to fill out the following 11 questions for every character yours interacts with. 

156. First Contact (describe the very first interaction the two characters have)

157. First Impression (what does your character initially believe about the other? be specific)

158. Anticipated Behavior (what actions does your character believe the other will take based on their first impression? what do they predict their behavior to be like?)

159. Informed Opinion (what is your character’s opinion of the other after getting to know them deeper?)

160. Nature of Relationship (what kind of relationship do they form? a quick wiki overview)

161. Value of Relationship (on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is the preservation of this relationship to your character?) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 

162. Conflicts of Nature (what conflicts between the characters occur because of unchangeable ‘natural’ obstacles?)

163. Conflicts of Nurture (what conflicts between the characters occur because of morality/belief differences?)

164. Changed Opinion (what is your characters final opinion of the other at the end of their story?)

165. Final Contact (the very last time they interact)

166. Legacy of Relationship (what lasting effect does this relationship have on your character?)

Character to World

this section is a bit small but includes some relevant questions. it’s important to keep in mind that your character is a part of a bigger world than just themselves. this may not be entirely relevant to them or your story, but it is something to bear in mind. 

167. Are they universally oriented in thinking?

168. What keeps them in their head?

169. What aggressions drive them over the edge?

170. What do they view as injustices in the world?

171. How far are they willing to go to affect change?

172. How large is their sphere of influence? 

173. How large do they believe their sphere of influence to be?

174. What events have they participated in that have had a positive impact on a large scale?

174a. small scale? 

174b. organized themselves?

174c. negative impact?

175. Actions taken to improve their world?

176. Actions taken that are inconvenient to themselves but help improve their world?

Your Character and the Monomyth

the monomyth, or the hero’s journey, is a broad open-ended template many stories can easily fit in. while it’s imperative to do your best to be fresh and avoid cliches, it is a great way of exploring the way your character fits into your plot plans. its not a bad thing to fit into the monomyth, its very easy to do. but don’t think of it as requirements or a checklist; you don’t have to hit all of these points. if something is not applicable to your character, just skip it!

177. Call to Adventure (how does the character receive the call to adventure?)

178. Refusal of the Call (does the character accept the call immediately?)

179. Answering the Call (what motivates the character to accept the call?)

180. Supernatural Aide (who or what helps the hero on his journey & why?)

181. Guide/Mentor (is there a specific character that helps the hero understand the life situation or provides the hero with special training?)

182. Talisman (is there a particular item that has special significance to the hero?)

183. Companions (who is with the hero on their journey? how do these companions help the hero face challenges?)

184. Crossing the Threshold (at what point in the story does the hero leave the familiar world and move into a new, unfamiliar world?)

185. Threshold Guardians (are there characters that try to prevent the hero from crossing over into the unfamiliar territory or circumstance?)

186. Road of Trials (what specific challenges does the hero face?)

187. Brother Battle (does the hero battle physically or mentally with someone who is a relative or close friend?)

188. Meeting the Goddess (does the hero meet with a character with a special beauty and power?)

189. Abduction (is the hero kidnapped, or is someone close to the hero kidnapped?)

190. Night or Sea Journey (where do their travels take them?)

191. Dragon Battle (do they battle some kind of monster? do they face their inner demon?)

192. Ritual Death or Dismemberment (is the hero injured and thought to be dead? do they mistakenly believe someone close to them is dead? do they suffer an injury in which they lose a limb or use of some other body part?)

193. Sacred Marriage (does the hero have a special emotional bond with another character? including but not limited to actual marriage)

194. Atonement with/Recognition by the Father (in the hero reunited with the father in some way?)

195. Entering the Belly of the Whale (is there some point in the story where they must face their deepest fear or the darkest evil in the story?)

196. Apotheosis (is there a point in the story where the hero is held up as an ideal or where they are worshiped?)

197. Magic Elixir (do they find some sort of special solution to the problem they are attempting to solve?)

198. Refusal of the Return (does the hero initially refuse to return to the homeland or the place they began?)

199. Magic Flight/Pursuit (is there some point where the hero is being chased or otherwise trying to escape something?)

200. Rescue from Without (is there some point in the story when all seems hopeless, when it looks like the hero is going to die then is suddenly unexpectedly rescued?)

201. Crossing the Return Threshold (is there some point where they return home?)

202. Master of Two Worlds (does it appear that the hero has conquered life in both the familiar and unfamiliar worlds?)

203. Freedom to Live (has the problem they set out to resolved been repaired enough that all can live peacefully?)

Arch and Alteration: Character from Beginning to End

last but not least, all of this information is useless to both you and your audience if it doesn’t come with a story!! odds are your character has a plot planned for them, and they’re already moving forward in your mind. but in order to keep your plans cohesive and interesting, you’re gonna need some structure. using basic plot structure (exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, resolution, you know the one) as your guide, design not only your plot structure but your character’s emotional arch as well. once you have them both, they should overlay to create a complete structured guide for the direction of both your character and the story. imagine it as a line graph, in fact, create one if it helps you! the x axis being the flow of time, the y axis being the increase of action/emotion. one line will follow the plot, and others will be your characters. this will help you know where a characters head is at during certain points in your timeline. if you know how your character is doing mentally, you can provide a clearer more accurate response from them due to the events at hand. be as detailed as possible in this to help you keep all your characters and events in order. thank you for reading, and happy writing!!

#mine #im gonna tag all the blogs i follow and have loved for a long time in this #but if u dont wanna be tagged/are disinterested in these kinds of posts/would not like to be in the future jst shoot me an ask #i will gladly take ur tag off my list #thank u to all who read/save/use!!! #i promise more of my posts in the future will be less bulky #i might put up a few more guides as i make them but only if people are interested #anyways ill be putting up caps & gifsets soon im investing in a desktop #chromebooks cant do shit #anyways #hope u enjoy #useralex #userben #quillpete #usererin #userstormborn #spiideysenses #obwian #gounderoos #delacourr #usertala #mcavoying #chrisfine #daissyridley #remusluvpin #matthewdaddrio #bottomkirk #bradleeyjamess #uservilu #userlara

[riversofmars]

World Enough, And Time

Here it is! One year on from posting my first long DW fic, I'm incredibly excited to start another! I'll keep working on all the prompts as well but I need a big thing to sink my teeth into and I'm really excited about this. I've had a lot of requests about doing more River & 13 having children but I also wanted to do a suspenseful adventure... so why not do both? I won't give too much away but I really hope you'll like it! <3

Rating: General, will probably go up to Teen for mild threat etc

Word Count: 4.8k 

River Song is pregnant when she leaves the Doctor on Darillium, intent on investigating an emerging threat to the family they would soon have. Time and space get in the way and soon she finds herself having to entrust her newborn to Vastra and Jenny for safekeeping. While River sets off to the Library looking for clues, the Paternoster Gang reach out to the Doctor. Their message arrives far later than expected.

Chapter 1: After The Long Night

Darillium, 52nd Century

“You’re up early.“ The Doctor’s Scottish drawl was soft and affectionate as it pulled River Song out of her thoughts. She looked up from buttoning her blouse to find her husband entering their suite with breakfast on a tray. She smiled at the little routine that had snuck in over the past twenty-four years. Every morning the Doctor would bring her breakfast in bed; if you could call it morning. On Darillium, a night lasted twenty-four Earth-standard years so of course it wasn’t actually the morning as such, just the end of their sleep cycle. The Doctor always woke first, he slept far less than River, which he insisted was due to his Timelord physiology. River, however, knew there was more to it. Romance wasn’t the Doctor’s strong suit but this he was comfortable with, so she indulged him.

“Up bright and early, yes. Big day ahead.“ River answered cheerfully as she regarded herself in the mirror of her dresser: Just a touch of make up, some mascara and lipstick to apply and she would be combat ready. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn’t turn, she struggled enough without having to look in his puppy dog eyes.

“Going somewhere?“ The Doctor frowned, observing his wife more carefully. Lots of things pointed to something being off, but none more obvious than the gun holster and blaster pistole. She’d had the good grace of draping her jacket over it but he wasn’t fooled that easily. The Doctor glanced out of a window to find that day was about to break. The long night was over and his hearts grew heavy with the knowledge of what was to come. For so long he had pretended that this day wouldn’t come. It had been such an abstract concept, a point in their future that they needn’t worry about. Twenty-four years had flown by. If only they had more time. For the man who had been running all his life, decades of standing still had been the most welcome reprieve. He tried his best to swallow down his emotions as he watch her get up. He knew he couldn’t reveal the foreknowledge he had. He couldn’t change his wife’s future as he world be rewriting his own past, but for a moment, he seriously considered it.

“Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be back in no time.“ River winked as she strapped her vortex manipulator to her wrist. She had considered borrowing her husband’s TARDIS but had come to the conclusion that she preferred her own means of time travel: less bulky. She didn’t like leaving him upset but there were things she had to do; and it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to come back. She thought it best for both of them if they didn’t make a big deal about it.

“Cup of coffee first?“ The Doctor tried his best to sound cheerful but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew this was how it ended, even if River did not. This would be the last time they would see each other.

“Tell you what, I’ll be sure to pop back in five minute’s time, then we can have a proper breakfast.“ River realise the Doctor had seen her gun so she didn't bother trying to hide it and instead made quite work of fastening the holster to herself. She was surprised that he didn’t comment. It had so often been cause for disagreement but now, he looked resigned to it. It almost gave her pause. “I will be back.“ She said, addressing his obvious discomfort with a reassuring smile.

“Of course you will.“ He forced a smile in return. “At least have a bite to eat. No good running around on an empty stomach and knowing you, there will be lost of running.“ He tried to make light of the situation, setting the tray down at last.

“To be honest, I’m not really hungry. Bit of an upset stomach.“ River pulled her coat on, the last item of clothing she required.

“The sunrise then. Let me have that at least. Come on, we’ve waited twenty-four years for it!“ He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along to the balcony. Countless nights they’d sat there and looked at the stars together. Now, first light snuck across the marble floor.

“If you insist.“ River couldn’t deny him this. He opened the double doors and lead her outside. The air was brisk but there was a sweetness to it as first sunbeams alleviated the long night, almost like the smell of spring flowers on Earth. The sky was a marvel of pink, orange and purple. A sunrise that would creep across the sky for years as the long day began. River couldn’t wait to come back. It wasn’t an empty promise, she fully intended on it. She didn’t care what the stories said. It was idle gossip that she didn’t care for: so what if this was the last night she spent with the Doctor? She intended to make it a lovely day, too. There were just a few things she had to deal with so she could rest easily. They had found happiness on Darillium and she was not prepared to let anything jeopardise that.

“So? What do you think?“ The Doctor’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and he wrapped his arms around her as she stood at the railing, looking out across the barren world that had been their home for so long now. It wasn’t quite the same view as from the restaurant balcony but they could still make out the Singing Towers in the distance. A faint hum carried over to them. It was distinctly more sad than their song during the sunset.

“I love you.“ River grabbed on to his arms, holding them tightly across her stomach. It was the simplest truth of her life and there was nothing else to say. This wasn’t goodbye. She would be back as soon as she could and for the Doctor it would be no time at all. She took note of the space time coordinates on her vortex manipulator so she wouldn’t be late when she returned.

“I love you, too, River.“ He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, holding her close. River took a deep breath struggling for composure as the depth of the emotion in his voice took her off guard. He wasn’t exactly the romantic or overly emotional type, so she appreciated his words and their meaning all the more.

“Right then, don’t get all sentimental on me now. I’ll be back before you know it. And I’ll probably have worked up an appetite so don’t eat all the croissant again!“ River joked, trying her best not to let her husband’s emotional statement rattle her. She had every intention of returning and nothing would be able to keep her from finding him again. Till death do us apart - And she really meant it. They had wasted too much time slipping in and out of each other’s lives. They had a life together now and so much more to look forward to. She would be back as soon as she could; as soon as she had seen to their continued safety. She turned in his arms and stood on her tiptoes to press a soft, comforting kiss to his lips.

“Don’t be long.“ The Doctor took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead softly, though not quickly enough to stop River catching a glimpse of the deep sadness in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.“ She tried her best to reassure him with another kiss but couldn’t bring herself to say anything else without chocking up. She hoped he already knew all the things she couldn’t say. “Won’t be a minute, Sweetie.“ She took a step back, out of his arms and engaged the vortex manipulator before he could change his mind about trying to stop her.  

——

London, Late 19th Century

“Ma’am?“

“Not now, Jenny, I am so close to seeing this pattern, there has to be something to it…“ Madame Vastra stepped back from the board she was currently pinning notes to. They were dealing with a very complicated case of jewellery theft all across London’s high society and the Silurian was sure she was close to cracking it. If anyone could, it was her, she was the Great Detective after all, and she worked hard to live up to the title.

“Ma’am it’s rather important.“ Jenny Flint interrupted, intent on getting her attention. “We have a visitor.“

“If it’s Inspector Abberline again, I will contact him as soon as I have news. That man is so terribly impatient.“ Vastra sighed with a dismissive wave. She didn’t take kindly to her work being interrupted.

“It’s not the Inspector, Ma’am. It is rather more important and … impossible … as that.“ Jenny insisted more firmly which made the lizard woman look around at last.

“Impossible, you say?“ She echoed, her interest peaked. The expression on her wife’s face made clear this matter required her urgent attention.

“Quite.“ Jenny confirmed and stepped aside.

Vastra had barely made it out of her study when she spotted a woman waiting in the entrance hall. Despite having her back turned to her, the lady of the house recognised her immediately. In her long life, she had ever only known one person who sported a head of hair as impressive as that.

“Professor Song.“ Vastra tried to keep surprise and disbelief from her voice but she couldn’t quite manage it. The last time they had seen River Song was when they had contacted her at the Library in aid of the Doctor. She had been dead a while then, her mind uploaded to the data core but without physical shape. Conscious but trapped. This River Song, however, insisted on looking so very much alive. Particularly when she turned around, revealing a small baby boy in her arms. She cradled him against her chest trying to sooth him. He was crying, the time jump had woken him up.

“Madame Vastra, I am ever so sorry to barge into your home like this, but I need your help and I know I can rely on the three of you.“ She glanced in between the two woman and then up to Strax who had just appeared on the landing, eager to see what the commotion was about.

“No offence, Professor, but you should be…“ Jenny started but Vastra quickly jumped in, shushing her.

“How can we be of service, Professor? Is this about the Doctor?“

“Somewhat. Not quite. He doesn’t know about this and he needn’t know just yet, I need him to be focused for what happens next.“ River answered vaguely. She had been determined to keep the Doctor blissfully unaware for her activities but she had taken far too long already. Now, things were getting to the point where she couldn’t keep him in the dark any longer. She needed his help but he couldn’t know about her visit here, not yet anyway.

When she had left Darillium, she had imagined things differently: What was meant to be a quick investigatory trip had turned into nine months of goose chases and dead ends. Her hopes of returning to Darillium and keeping the Doctor out of it had been dashed when she realised she would need his help. She swallowed the guilt about what else she had kept from him but she knew she couldn’t have take the chance of returning early and putting all of them in danger.  

“How long ago did you leave him?“ Vastra asked slowly, appraising their visitor. She appeared exhausted but insisted on compensating for it by carrying herself with assurance and purpose.

“About nine months of my time. Now please…“ River averted her eyes, avoiding the judgment she feared she’d find in Vastra’s expression. Instead she focused on the child in her arms, who started wailing again.

“And the child…“ Vastra prompted softly, sensing how the other woman was struggling.

“There is somewhere I have to go and I can’t take him.“ River shook her head to herself, feeling herself tear up. “It would be too dangerous but it’s something I have to do.“

“Is he…“ Vastra knew the answer to the question but she had to ask regardless to be sure of what they were dealing with.

“Yes.“ River took a deep breath and looked up to Vastra with a sad smile, touched by the deep sympathy in her eyes.

“And the Doctor doesn’t know?“ Jenny asked, stepping closer as well.

“Not yet.“ River shook her head, focusing on the baby again. It was painful beyond words. The past nine months had been tough. River considered herself a strong and independent woman but pregnancy and child birth was not something she had imagined having to do by herself.

“But why?“ Jenny asked reaching out to touch River’s arm, hoping to give some comfort that she seemed to badly need.

“He can’t know. Not until I’ve figured out who is after us.“ River shook her head to herself. “I’ve been investigating. Someone is looking for the Doctor, for me, and for…“ She took a deep breath trying to compose herself. “It’s hard to explain. There are so many layers to it, so much time… But I won’t let them endanger my family so… I need you to look after our son until I have got to the bottom of what is going on.“ She explained why she was here, as if it wasn’t obvious by now. “I have recorded everything I’ve found out so far in a file. It’s in the bag.“ She nodded towards a duffle bag of baby supplies that she had brought with her. “Please, you have no idea how hard this is…“ Uncharacteristically, River’s voice cracked and Jenny stepped forward quickly extending her hands. River kissed the top of her child’s head and passed him over. He cried and Jenny instinctively started rocking him, holding him close to her chest.

Vastra placed her hand on her wife’s back as she looked at the small child. He appeared human for all intents and purposes. Milky skin and dark curls, a couple of weeks old at the most.

“We will keep him safe.“ Vastra promised as she looked back to River who was welling up with tears.

“I know you will.“ She nodded struggling for composure. There was no-one she trusted more, expect perhaps her own parents, but they were beyond her reach. River pulled a piece of cloth from her coat. It was moss green with golden stitching on. She draped it across the baby’s chest which seemed to calm him a little. Jenny immediately recognised the prayer leaf Amy Pond had been given for her baby - River - at Demon’s Run. A lump formed in Jenny’s throat as she realised how history was repeating itself in a most cruel way. The little boy curled his tiny fingers around the silky fabric, holding on for comfort, and River smiled. “I will be back as soon as I can.“ She said and it wasn’t clear who she was talking to: Her friends, her child or herself.

“Can you at least tell us where you’re going?“ Vastra asked, needing to be sure their assumptions were correct.

“The Library.“ River answered, refocusing on the task ahead. She was confident she would find answers there. The expedition was a means of getting in but what she really needed was the data core.

“And what if you don’t come back?“ Strax pipped up, earning scolding glances from Vastra and Jenny. Even though they all had the same foreknowledge of events, they refrained from posing that painful question.

“I will.“ River said firmly, leaving no room for doubt, the tragic irony lost on her. “But if something happens…“ She couldn’t deny that maybe, they would need to get in contact with her. “I am meeting up with the Doctor. In case of emergency, there is a beacon in the bag. It will find the TARDIS, wherever it is.“ Always the pragmatist, River had prepared for that eventuality, even if she didn’t want to seriously consider it.

“Does he have a name?“ Jenny asked, trying to distract herself from the fact that the little boy in her arms was about to lose a parent.

“Not yet.“ River admitted reluctantly, though grateful for the change of subject. “I didn't want to make that decision without the Doctor… hopefully we will soon.“

“Best of luck, Professor.“ Vastra reached out and gave her hand a squeeze, overcome by deep sorrow at her friends fate that was turning out to be ever more tragic than she had ever realised. Her heart ached for her. “I promise we will look after him well.“ It was a most heartfelt promise. She didn’t know what sort of trouble was chasing the Doctor's family but she was prepared to lay down her life in aid of their dear friends. River nodded gratefully.

“Thank you for this.“ River managed a weak smile at the three of them. She bent down and kissed her son’s head one last time. “I love you, darling, be a good boy for them, they’d take good care of you.“ She whispered and stood, her vision blurred, unable to say anything else so she engaged her vortex manipulator.

“What do we do?“ Jenny was the first to break the heavy silence that followed. She could contain her emotions any longer, tears sprung to her eyes as she rocked the little boy who started to cry again, the moment his mother had departed.  

“We have to tread carefully not to interfere with the time streams. I don’t think the Professor was prepared for this eventuality.“ Vastra mused, trying to focus on the issue at hand so she wouldn’t be overcome herself.

“She didn’t even ask about him the last time we spoke.“ Jenny recalled.

“I have never known anyone as proficient at keeping secrets as Professor Song, particularly when there is a timeline to protect. She will know what she can and can’t say at any given time, we must trust in that.“ Vastra took a deep breath.

“So what now?“ Jenny held the baby close, whispering words of encouragement as he carried on crying, holding on to the prayer leaf for dear life.

“Now I shall see to it that the child is fed, give it here.“ Strax announced in his usual matter-of-factly tone.

“Strax, he’s just lost his mother, do you think you could be a bit more compassionate?“ Jenny snapped, affronted.

“Get this little guy settled in.“ Vastra reached out and stroked the boy’s head. “We shall give the Professor a few days. Never underestimate her or the Doctor. For all we know, she will either find a way of contacting him or manage to somehow, miraculously, escape herself. And then, they will know where to find us. We keep the child safe, as was asked of us.“ She explained receiving affirming nods from the others.

“It will give us a chance to devise a battle plan against whatever is coming for them.“ Strax stated and for once Vastra had to agree. With any luck, the Professor’s file would proof enlightening.

“And what if they don’t come, either of them?“ Jenny asked softly as the baby finally stopped crying and instead look up at them with big blue eyes.

“Then she’s left us the means of finding his father.“ Vastra said as she pulled River’s notes out of the duffle bag, alongside a small emergency transmitter.

——

Sheffield, 2021

The Doctor turned away from the door and made her way to the console. They had remained in their stupor for far too long after Graham and Ryan had left. With a deep breath she decided to refocus her energies on the future: New adventures. Freedom after nineteen years imprisonment. Answers to the questions that had been haunting her since the destruction of Gallifrey.

“So. Where do you want to go?“ The Doctor feigned enthusiasm as Yasmin Kahn joined her at the console.

“You’re the one that’s been locked up for years, you must have some idea of where you want to go.“ Yaz retorted with an encouraging smile. Neither one of them was particularly in the mood for an adventure - not after having said goodbye to their close friends - but if they didn’t set off soon, their sadness would overwhelm them.

“How about you decide?“ The Doctor looked to the central crystal, addressing the TARDIS. “You always have such strong opinions on where I oughtto be, how about now?“

As if on cue, the lights in the TARDIS turned a threatening red, alarms started blaring and the floor started shaking as the engines engaged.

“Okay, this is a bit more than I expected!“ The Doctor grabbed on to the console for dear life as they were thrown about. Wherever they were going, the TARDIS was in a hurry. The Doctor pulled herself along the console to where she could check where they were going.

“Doctor, what’s going on?“ Yaz yelled over the noise and the Doctor shook her head.

“I don’t know!“ She called back.

“Emergency beacon retrieval engaged.“ A robotic voice announced.

“Since when do we have emergency beacons?!“ The Doctor retorted dumbfounded. Only moments later, the TARDIS ground to a halt. The bumpy ride came to an abrupt end and the lighting normalised as if nothing had ever happened.

“Where are we?“ Tentatively, Yaz let go of the console and straightened herself up. If the Doctor couldn't explain how this had happened, perhaps she could at least oblige with the destination. The blonde didn’t answer straight away, she checked the readings, then rechecked them again.

“London, late eighteen-hundreds.“ She said at last, surprised at how pleasant and unthreatening an outcome it was, considering the rough and urgent travel.

“Love the Victorian times!“ Yaz’s expression brightened immediately. That was most certainly a time period she was interested in seeing.

“Let’s not get over excited, let’s find out why we’re here first. That was no ordinary jump.“ The Doctor cautioned her. She had never seen the TARDIS react with quite this level of urgency before and she knew she would be a fool to ignore it.

They made their way to the door and the Doctor stuck her head out for a look around.

“HA!“ She exclaimed sounding both excited and relieved. “12 Paternoster Row!“ She gestured to the familiar London townhouse as she stepped outside and Yaz followed her.

“I take it you know who lives here?“ Yaz concluded and the Doctor clapped her hands together, full of eager anticipation.

“It’s only the finest investigative trio of this time period!“ She announced making her way up to the front door. “Not to mention some of my best friends. They must have sent out a call!“ She knocked on the door and was surprised and unsettled when it gave way. It wasn’t locked, quite the contrary, the lock had been forced out of the frame.

“An emergency call…“ Yaz dropped her voice to a whisper as the Doctor pushed the door open further. Slowly, they advanced into the hallway and the Doctor held her hand out, barring Yaz’s way. The corridor was in ruins but it was no ordinary destruction. “Everything looks so… old…“ Yaz couldn’t think of a better way of putting it. The cabinets looked like they would fall apart at the smallest touch. The coats on the hangers by the door were flayed with moths having been at been at them. The stairs that lead up to the second floor seemed brittle and rotten. The Doctor didn’t answer as she mind was already racing at a hundred miles an hour. She could only think of one weapon that could cause this particular brand of destruction.

“Be very careful now, there might be more…“

“More what?“ Yaz asked anxiously, minding her step on the well worn floor.

“Traps…“ The Doctor used her sonic screwdriver to scan the way ahead.

They found Madame Vastra first, at the far end of the hall. Disregarding her own advice, the Doctor threw caution to the wind and rushed over to her. She quickly checked for vital signs as Yaz just stared at her. She had seen many things on her travels with the Doctor but a lizard woman in Victorian London came as a surprise.

“She’s breathing.“ The Doctor exclaimed, relieved. “She wouldn’t have taken the full blast. Plus, Silurians have a longer life span than humans. Grab me some water.“ She gestured to the kitchen which was in the adjourning room. It looked like Vastra had just stepped out of it as the explosion had taken place. Yaz obeyed and rushed to get water from the sink, the destruction hadn’t reached as far as that, everything looked the way Yaz would have imagined, based on all those period dramas her mum liked to watch.

Without much ado, the Doctor chucked the glass of water into the Silurian’s face and Vastra woke with a start. Instinctively she lashed out for the Doctor with her tongue who saw it coming and just about ducked the attack.

“Vastra, it’s okay!“ She held her hands up where her friend could see them.

“Who are you?“ Vastra looked around panicked, disoriented as she pushed herself up and scrambled away from the Doctor, trying to assess where the danger was coming from.

“Vastra, it’s me, calm down, you called me here.“ The Doctor tried to sooth her as she realised Vastra wouldn’t recognise her. She hadn’t seen this face of hers before. “I’m the Doctor.“

“You’re not the Doctor.“ It was an automatic knee-jerk reaction, as Vastra calmed down a little but couldn’t think through what she was saying.

“Yes, I am, I’ve regenerated.“ The Doctor insisted, moving a little closer and the detective inched back again. “You’re Vastra, the great detective of Paternoster Row, married to Jenny Flint. Friend to Commander Strax of Sontar. You and I, we are old friends. You stood with me in my darkest hour and saved my life more times than I care to admit, now please, let it be my turn, what happened here?“ She pleaded with her to understand and slowly, recognition dawned on Vastra’s face.

“Doctor…“ Her expression softened but her confusion remained: “What happened? I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years… where we attacked?“ She struggled to sit up properly.

“Yes you have and yes you were. Chronon mine, by the looks of it.“ The Doctor revealed as it was the only thing she knew that could cause this sort of damage. “You don’t remember anything else? Where are Jenny and Strax?“

“They would have been upstair with… Oh, Goddess, Doctor, I am so sorry.“ The realisation hit Vastra like a punch in the gut and left her struggling to breath.

“Yaz, stay with her, I’ll go look upstairs.“ Before either of them could protest, the Doctor jumped to her feet and returned to the hallway. She climbed the brittle stairs, hanging on to the railing tightly. The destruction hadn’t reached the upper level. It seemed as if it had just been a means of diversion, but to what end? A unsettling feeling of foreboding crept into her subconscious. There was only one species that was able to pack time into a bomb.

She tiptoed down the corridor. There wasn’t a sound so she couldn’t imagine whoever had attacked them was still around but she couldn’t be too careful. She engaged her sonic screwdriver again to scan the hallway ahead. No traps, no bombs, just two life signs, one human, one Sontaran. She breathed a sigh of relief and carried on to the room at the end of the hall. There, she found Jenny and Strax lying unconscious amongst signs of a struggle. The Doctor lingered in the doorway, her brow knotted into a frown, as she tried to make sense of the scene in front of her. In the centre of the room stood a cot that Jenny and Strax had seemingly tried to protect.  

“Doctor, wait…“ Vastra’s voice hardly registered as the Doctor walked further into the room. Despite Yaz’s help up the stairs, Vastra was not quick enough to stop her from finding what the Silurian feared she would. The Doctor spotted the familiar green cloth that lay abandoned in the empty cot and reached for it. “Doctor, I’m sorry…“ The Doctor turned the prayer leaf in her hand that carried her wife’s name. It was one of River’s most treasured possessions. What was it doing here in a baby’s cot?

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #River Song #Thirteen #thirteenth doctor #twelfth doctor #femslash #time baby #space wives #river x thirteen #thirteen/river #river x the doctor #yowzah #action/adventure #Madame Vastra #Jenny Flint #Paternoster Gang

[lixiefe]

Can't Touch - k.sm

Chapter Two: You

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none for now.

pt.1

                           {The sparkles in her eyes entrance me}

YOU WERE almost at the end of your third part time job for which you worked as a resident grocery store receptionist. Your shift ended at midnight and you were ecstatic to go back to your cozy home and have a satisfactory meal. After aiding to the last customers and checking their products into a bag, you were done with today's work. 

You shuffled the grocery store keys from your small sidebag and sluggishly went outside. With another extended version of yawn, you closed the store with the last bit of humane strength you had left.

The store you worked at was significantly close to your humble abode, it took 10 minutes of moderate walking to reach there. Besides, you were strictly opposing to the luxury of hailing a taxi. It was too much of money to waste, money that could go into the bank for future purposes. It was way more beneficial. 

So, like every other day, you walked yourself to your home, with some yawning, some cursing finicky customers and some finding about new injuries, you were at the front gate of your apartment. You pushed in the pin code and the door made a clicking sound, opening instantly. You shook your shoes off and walked in, liking the feel of the floor against your bare feet as fatigue followed through your footsteps.

You were about to head to the bathroom to wash up when you saw your mother sitting on the sofa of your living room, looking at you with a foreign intensity that gave you chills. You found it creepy but it was also unlike of your mother to stay up this late. You gave a suspicious look.

"Why are you awake, mom?" 

Your mother suddenly smiled at you. Getting up on her feet as she limped her way towards you. You wanted to restrict her from moving with her unstable feet, but before you knew it, she was already there. She then held both your hands soothingly and rubbed the back of your hands with her thumb, making small outlines. "Y/N, please cancel all the part times of tomorrow, we have an important meet-up." She said.

What meet up could you so-suddenly have? It wasn't everyday event for you to even encounter any associates, much less have someone appoint a specified meet-up. It also wasn't like you had many acquaintances who’d prefer physical meeting than speedy calls, which gave you much reason to be even more skeptical.

You were more than confused, you squinted your eyes at her. "We? Who am I supposed to meet?" you asked.

"You know Mrs. Kim? The one who helped us when we were at our worst. She and I made a promise to each other." She said, a glint of fondness flicking up her face at the remembrance of her friend. Your mother seemed quite happy to talk about it. Although you knew nothing of what she was heading to, you felt glad for your mother's joyful mood.

You could never forget about the huge help Mrs. Kim provided you with when your mother's husband left with his newfound love interest, leaving you guys with nothing. Your mother was too humble and magnanimous to file a complaint against that bastard of a man. And at that time, you were young and foolish, at an age where you could not work, much less aid the stability of your breaking household. Mrs. Kim lent your mother money for her necessities, along with yours. And you were forever grateful for that.

It was also the reason why you had an unhealthy amount of part-times. You could not swallow feeling indebted, and through your constant jobs for almost 3 years, you managed to pay the exact amount. Along with that came personal independence. And now, it had become a habit. Now it felt strange to have a nap in the afternoon, or even sleep more than 6 hours.

You urged her to continue.

"My baby, she proposed to me of your hand, for her son! You're going to get married."

Uh what?

It sounded unbelievable. You felt as if a horde of bulky drums were playing in your ears. You must have heard wrong. You scrunched your brows together and forced a smile as you quietly asked, "I think I didn't hear you properly. Did you say I am going to get worried?"

You prayed to the almighty that she didn't say what you thought she did. And even If she did, it sounded more of a joke than anything else she had ever said. But, you were wrong.

Your mother stifled a laugh but ended up smiling widely. At that, you lips also curved up faintly, but that was short lived. You mother waved her hand in graceful curves, signaling a no.

And with dropped your according smile.

"You are going to get married. M-a-r-r-i-e-d." She enunciated.

You could almost argue with your subconscious mind that you were hearing wrong again, but you weren't. She even spelled it out for you. It was 21st century and arranged marriages were old as well as atypical. Even if it was however, exemplary, you refused to abide by it.

"Are you joking?" you asked, an edge to your usually placid tone. you tilted you head and waited for your mother to laugh and say she was pranking you. Although pranking you was the last thing she would do since it was highly unlikely of her.

But please be different for once!

"No, I am not. What do you think?" she had specks of high expectations in her eyes. You hoped she didn't expect you to be elated about it and look forward to it like a hopeless romantic. But when a boyfriend was the last of your thought, what did a marriage come to? You were so not up for it.

"No." you refused firmly, hands tensing, tone becoming stern. Your mother furrowed her brows, holding your hands tighter. And you wondered if she was confused as to why you refused. If so, did she really think an arranged wedding was conventional? 

She knew you had you own independence, your own freedom that you grew at an young age. You weren't going to abandon your beloved freedom for an unconventional wedding arrangement.

"But why?" she asked you, calmly. But you knew she would not let go without a fight. You never really argued with your mother, you just complied by her every wishes. No hanging out? Alright. No staying up late? Alright. No boyfriend? Not like it needed prohibition. 

"I refuse to be tied to a person I don't want to." You replied with firmness in your voice. But it was not enough, and soon enough you knew you had no chance.

"My dear, her son has everything you need. Not only are they wealthy, her son is extremely handsome, well-mannered and can fulfill all your wishes." with that, you mother continued to fill your ears with praises that you didn't know were true or false. And you could not cut in to oppose. You could never raise your voice to halt her and could not bear seeing her upset either. You knew she wanted this for your own well-being. For your economic stability and your stable life. And you could not utter back a word as she said, "Do it for me. I cannot break my promise. Please."

Do it for me. Do it for me. Do it for me.

Shit.

That was the last straw. You could not refuse her and she knew it.

And now you had to prepare yourself and your life to fall down the drain. And a million 'what if's flooded through your mind and reverberated in jumbled trails as if wanting to ravage your brain.

And you ,under duress, canceled your part times for tomorrow.

a/n: haha should i keep posting?

#stray kids #skz #skz kim seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids seungmin #skz han #han jisung #stray kids han #skz han jisung #j.one #3racha #skz fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #skz imagines #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids smut #skz smut #ceo!seungmin x reader #arranged marriage au #ceo au #i love stray kids #skzwritersclub

[drakewalkerisreal]

Chapter 10: Thoughts are free to go anywhere

Amour Sans Fin

Note from writer:I apologize to all regular readers of Amour Sans Fin for disappearing. I was really sick and wasn't able to write.I promise to post regularly from now on.

The chapter contains mention of sexual abuse and violence. So its strictly not for under 18.

This chapter will be more of Riley's POV than Drake's.

Drake’s POV

Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams are better than reality. The saddest part of it is, that eventually even the memory of your dream will fade. If you are even lucky enough to remember, then you're left with this lonely feeling of detachment, the only proof that you ever had the dream.

I half wonder if I'm still dreaming as I sit up to take in the shafts of light that burst through the gaps of the blinds. Now I'm awake, perhaps more fully awake than I've ever been. There is no sign of another person. As usual.

Mostly I get up early morning for jogging. Suddenly I remembered the events of last night and what I was dreaming about. I didn’t realize that I was smiling the whole time. I kissed her. Not in real but in my dream. We were kissing like crazy on the stone stairs. She was clinging to me and my fingers were roaming in her hair. She smelled like roses. My palms travelled down her body on both sides and rested at her waist. She moaned. She kissed me as if it was her first, like no man had ever kissed her, soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath, one sensation, one timeless and passionate moment. The heat rose in her cheeks as my tongue touched her tongue, quick and electric and delicious. My palms were cupping her ass cheeks now. I pulled her even closer to me.

A knock on the door woke up to reality. It was just a dream. Nothing like this has happened previous night but I danced with her. Yes, I danced with her.

I dragged my body to door.

“Morning Drake” It was Bastien. “I thought you would be awake already. Didn’t get up for jogging?”

No, I was awake late last night coz I was feeding Liam’s suitor and a few seconds ago my tongue was battling with hers in my thoughts before you barged in.

“Umm. Last night was tiring” I replied lazily.

“Yeah, Dancing can be tiring sometimes” He said straight.

I searched for any hint of sarcasm in his voice but found nothing.

“Liam wants you to get ready. We are leaving for Palace in half an hour”

“Okay. I go” I shrugged.

I got ready and reached the Patio. Everybody was ready to get back. Regina and Constantine were making announcements for Royal Regatta tomorrow. It is Ceremonial Boat Race where Liam’s suitors will have to lead a boat to win a race. My eyes searched for her. She was talking to Penelope and Kiara; throwing her hands like a kid. I suddenly realized that I was staring at her like a hungry man. Suddenly her eyes met mine and she smiled. Before, I can give any reaction she continued talking with them again.

I definitely need some art of living class, man! Sometimes, I even forget to greet with smile. Fuck!

Suddenly Liam clapped at my shoulder. I hope he didn’t notice that I was staring at his favourite suitor. And that too like a pervert.

Riley’s POV

Its been more than a month since Maxwell literally took me to this fairyland. Who expected something like this to happen when your life is most usual and common in every sense? I was not sure at first about my decision to join this mad race but finally I thought what worse can happen?

My life is already shittier than I have ever expected. I still don’t believe that I am out of reach of Luke. I don’t want to see him again in my life. I don’t want to get into any relationship serious or casual in near future. I have had enough. I never thought that a causal relationship would have hurt me this amount. Not just physically but mentally.

May be nobody was there to guide me all this time what to look in a boyfriend. I was so naïve and childish. That’s why all of this happened with me. He did all that to me and I was not brave enough to come out of it.

As soon as Maxwell invited me to compete for Prince’s hand, past few years swirled in my mind. How my parents almost abandoned me. How I earned in worst conditions to at least feed my hunger? How I completed my college without any family support? How I met Luke? How relationship with him turned into an ugly face? How he used to beat me in alone or in front of his cronies? How sex has become less pleasure and became more painful with him?

Finally, I accepted Maxwell’s invitation and went away with it. It was not very ideal meeting with Cardonian men at my work place. Yet I can’t deny they are handsome people. Maxwell looked nice and funny. Tariq was fussy, yet he looked stylish. Liam was most gentle person of all. And there he was, Drake. The angry head-- Mr Grumpy. He mostly keeps it to himself. He looks like those men who keep girls at their arm’s length and are arrogant. Although I like bulky and tall man but I always had problem with such attitude. When I changed into that green dress, he accidently said 'wow' and then made a face like I am not even worth praising. What attitude??

I took them to beach. Liam enjoyed it. Maxwell was funny and humorous. Drake’s attitude annoyed me there too. I reckon he didn’t like me talking to Liam. I ignored him. But I wonder how can someone hate me even in very first meeting.

Maxwell called me next morning. He explained me the whole thing and expected me to answer over call. He explained there will be no problem as Cardonia offers Visa on arrival. He promised to arrange everything. Finally, I said yes. Let’s go with it.

Atleast I will be away from Luke and he won’t be able to find me. I didn’t even inform about it to anyone except Daniel. He is the only friend whom I can trust. There was no family I needed to inform. Nobody cares.

I packed my stuff hurriedly. I ran to chase the airplane. It was first time that I travelled on a private airplane.

Drake was on plane too which annoyed me to hell. When Maxwell told me that why he invited me Cardonia, Drake’s reaction was most snarky. Dude! what have I done to you. He tried to frighten me with all the possible warnings. Huh!! I already had enough and became tough. I won’t be getting hurt easily.

Maxwell supported me all the time. I already started liking him. I hope Liam will be like him and not Drake.

Finally, Drake got busy in his music and Maxwell explained me everything about Cardonia on the way.

I looked at him while sleeping. This man looked ruggedly handsome who is now sleeping peacefully. He has tousled brown hair. Does he behave same with every girl or I am his special choice of hatred?

He must be thinking that I am here for Liam’s money. Yes. Money is worth a thing when you don't have much yet I seek a peaceful life.

Somewhere inside I always wanted a family. With Luke, I behaved like an independent girl because he wanted me to capture and keep in his cage. When I was with him most of the boys don’t even try to pursue me. He has reputation of badass. I always pretended to be independent and carefree. Inside, I want someone to take care of me, to look for me, to protect me. I always imagined a knight in shining amour who will come and rescue me from all this mess. But fairytales won’t happen in real.

First event of the social season was Masquerade ball where all suitors were introduced. Maxwell ensured that my entry was at least sophisticated. They called me ‘Lady Riley Brooks from New York’.

Nobody called me with such a formal name before. It’s not very common in New York. I doubt most of the people around me in New York didn’t even know my last name.

I entered the main hall in the dress that Beaumont brothers provided me with. That was a white mermaid style dress which hugged me perfectly. Bertrand wished me to wear mask but I refused to wear any. At first, I didn’t find any known face in the main hall. It felt very awkward without any acquaintance here.

Where is Maxwell when I need him the most.

Suddenly, I saw Drake standing in the blue formal shirt.

Oh, this person knows how to look like a gentleman.

Since I didn’t know anyone else, I moved to him and he behaved as charming as ever and lashed me with his snarky comments.

Urgh!! he was so annoying and called me ‘Kid’. I spotted Hana and went to her. She is a savior. Hana is the sweetest girl here.

Then, there was Olivia who was so rude that I can consider Drake sweet over her. She tried to play prank and embarrass me on my very first night. I escaped it narrowly.

I was looking for Liam as I was eager to know his reaction. He was really sweet to me in New York. I hoped I didn’t disappoint him here. It’s not that I like him but he seems to be nice guy and, after all, he is a king.

When Liam saw me, he looked amazed. He was so polite and humble, just too good for me. I know he is interested in me. He asked me to join in the balcony. I am not looking forward for a relationship but yes, it was hard to say no to Liam. When I walked to the balcony, he was already waiting for me. I bowed to him but he made me comfortable. He looked handsome as ever and was dressed up perfectly. I enjoyed talking to him. Even if our relationship doesn’t go well, we can be good friends.

Next day was Derby event. Maxwell and Bertrand drove me to Honey Hills down in their Limo. I never sat in a Limo before. As a matter of fact, I never owned a car.

As soon as I entered the place, the press reporters gathered around me and bombarded me with their questions. I was nervous at first but I knew I have nothing to lose so I went on with the questions. They surprisingly liked me. They already knew that I have met Liam somewhere else before and eager to know about it.

Maxwell told me to look for the tents so I went on the expedition to find one. But I accidently found myself in a horse stable. I thought, I could ask someone which is the way to tents. I called but no one replied. Suddenly I turned back and found a horse moving towards me. Shit. The horse looked so angry at me as if I have breached his territory.

I was unable to think of anything and moved a few steps back which made me fall in a stack of hay. I was terrified with the idea of losing at least my one or two bones. Suddenly someone came between the horse and me. Is he?

He led the horse towards his stall, then offered me his hand to get up.

Am I in the parallel universe? Drake Walker saved me from a horse and offering me his hand.

I said thanks to him for saving me. I was still terrified but yeah, I am back in the real world. He told me that he was saving the horse.

What’s up with him? Mr. Grumpy!!

I wondered what was he doing here all by chance. Drake told me that Liam asked him to look out for me. Liam is a real gentleman. Wow!! I like how much he’s concerned.

Drake led me to the tents and I thanked him once again. Even if he was told by Liam but it’s true that he saved me and I could get really hurt if he wasn’t there.

Derby event was all about fancy nobles gathered together and boasting about their wealth. Maxwell told me before that Drake hated these noble due to these show offs and hypocrite behavior. I could understand the feeling now. Being a commoner it’s hard to survive here.

Next, we had to go for the tea party picnic. Such events are too weird for a New Yorker. Maxwell told me that press is calling me ‘Mysterious woman from New York’. These people can really make a hill out of mole. I don’t think there is anything mysterious about me. Hell, yeah it sounds cool.

I saw all the girls gathering around queen Regina. She looked like a complex lady. If such woman becomes my mother-in-law, I’ll be doomed for sure.

There was some blonde girl with her. Hana told me she is Madeleine and she almost won Leo’s hand before he abdicated the throne. How unfortunate?? But she looked so creepy in a way.

Finally, I met Regina. It’s curious that Regina doesn’t look like Liam at all. She asked me some questions to check my wit and I knew I impressed her. Seeing me talking to Regina, Liam joined us. I knew that he wants me to go well with Regina.

It was pleasant conversation till Madeleine joined. This woman is really cruel as she seems at prima facie. It looked like I have to tackle one more to survive. She embarrassed me for being a commoner in a subtle way that neither Liam nor Regina seemed to noticed it. I didn’t know that they ignored it intentionally or people don’t mind such petty things here. I looked around the crowd for Maxwell or Hana. My eyes met Drake. He was looking directly at me. It looked like he was trying to understand what’s going on here.

Urge! Does he care? Obviously, No.

Maybe he wanted to tell me that he is right about this place and his dire warnings are justified now.

Everybody sat for snacks served. I was too hungry that I can eat them all. Drake was again fussy about the place and I taunted him well. I was amused to see that everybody agreed with me that he and fun doesn’t go together. I gave him the winning smile.

Don’t mess with me Walker.

Enough of all the formal events, I proposed to go for drinks and to my surprise Drake agreed immediately. Liam and Hana were confused about it but finally agreed to go. Maxwell found a nearby American style bar named “Sehnsucht’.

It was all dark when we entered the place. Suddenly we looked up and saw discarded bras, underwear and old bike parts hanging from the ceiling. Hana and I looked at each other with wide eyes. I never imagined such place in Cardonia and that too I’ll go there with some foreigner man I didn’t knew a week ago.

I accidently looked at Drake and he blushed. I never knew he is shy kind of guy.

Maxwell was excited as usual for a new adventure. I am sure, Liam never have visited such place before. He is a total gentleman type of guy.

Drake volunteered to get the drinks. I offered to go with him as I wanted to check out the drink’s menu. We ordered some beer from the menu. Drake immediately was up for paying. Although I don’t have much in my card but I am not such girl who let boys pay all the time. However, Drake didn’t let me pay.

Finally, I breathed and asked him why he hates me. This was the first time and I looked him in his eyes.

He has brown eyes with a hint of golden.

He said that he is too straightforward that’s why people can’t handle it and found him rude. I reckon he was genuine in his reply.

In the conversation, I got to know that he’s half American. That was a real surprise. But this man is annoying as hell. He must be only two or a few years older than me and was already calling me kid.

Apart from this, the night went like crazy. Everybody enjoyed it. I loved the look on face of Liam and Hana as they must not get much any chances to get high like this. The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. This drinking session gave me the idea that I can have some of the best buddies here and finally can have freedom.

@drakewalker04 @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @emceesynonymroll @star-spangled-eyes @dcbbw    @jovialyouthmusic @drakesensworld   @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @ao719 @duchessemersynwalker

@pug-bitch   @rainbowsinthestorm @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @iplaydrake   @katedrakeohd   @nikkis1983 @qween-corgis @thorfosterlove @butindeed

 @gardeningourmet @speedyoperarascalparty

@pedudley @ibldw-main @irishwhiskys-blog @inlovewithwalker @addictedtodrakefanfic

@notoriouscs @grumpymarshmallowswife

@maria-soederberg @camersworld

#maxwell beaumont #king liam #drake?mc #choices trr #choices fanfic #inlovewithdrakewalker #riley brooks #drake walker x mc #drake walker #trr #pixelberry #choices #drake x mc #trh #the royal romance fanfic #playchoices #choices the royal romance #the royal heir #choices stories you play #theroyalromance #trr fanfic

[writings-from-the-hart]

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Just as promised this is the beginning of the three-part post about answering @quilloftheclouds questions for my Wip Renegade. To kick things off I’m going to start with Modes of Transportation, I thought about adding pictures but that’s time-consuming and would make this post longer than it already is. So if you guys want to see some pictures of the Modes of Transportation in Renegade let me know, I post them! 

Modes of Transportation

The world of Renegade is a mix between Tron: Legacy and Blade Runner 2049, a blend of both cyberpunk and post-apocalypse dystopia. For a world set two millennia past ours (2200) transportation isn’t what most people from our generation would think it to be: there aren’t flying cars, skyscrapers don’t serve as spaceports, and people don’t regularly take trips to the moon or live on Mars. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t cool futuristic modes of transportation, most that travel on something known as The Grid (a network of synchronized power that runs below every interstate, highway, street, and connects at the center of each City-State like hubs to give every citizen of the Republic power). Without The Grid life wouldn’t be able to function, the world would find itself in cold darkness or in other locations scalding heat of the sun without means of protection. 

The Grid runs like ley-lines, connecting everything in the Republic to make it work like one giant machine, these lines can best be seen at night and truly showcase how vast the network is. It’s like a collection of different colored lights running along every surface in the world, some following vehicles. The Grid distributes power to transportation, homes, factories, and other buildings in the Republic. 

HyperExpress

This is the bullet train of the future that can travel up to 2,000 mph, it utilizes a vacuum tube in order to reduce air friction and increase its speed. Not only is HyperExpress an ultra-fast bullet train it also serves as a kind of subway for all Caste citizens, not only the higher/wealthy ones. The HyperExpress system runs much like the railroad did when it first started laying track in 1830′s America, it’s the veins and nervous system of the Republic when it comes to transportation, stretching from one City-State to another across all connecting contents. Both cheap and highly efficient. 

Air-X 

Flying cars aren’t an option for civilians, scientists in the Republic tried to make it happen but after many try fail cycles it was deemed safer to not put the public in such contraptions. So only Air-X remains, the only commercial flying vehicle in the Republic skies. These are unmanned, piloted by A.I or small Androids, freight containers with a small cab build into the front. Using Air-X frees highways, interstates, and the oceans from unnecessary cargo shipment by vehicle or ship and instead acts much like a miniature plane of sorts. Small shipments use hover technology in their motors while larger shipments passing overseas use twin-jets or quad jets depending on the load.

ePath 

Much like HyperExpress there is a network of tube-like structures following smaller highways in City-States civilians in both the middle castes and high castes can use who: ride electronic bicycles, electronic scooters, or even walk. The system is at least 17ft above the road, keeping pedestrians a safe distance from motorized traffic, is climate-controlled all year round, and also offers conjunction points were either 1.) City-State district limits begin and end or 2.) A transportation module such as HyperExpress is available. This allows civilians to hop off ePath and use another mode of transportation or walk directly about the City-State as they please. 

ThunderHaven 

Human beings have been entranced with the idea of flying for decades and pushing the limits of that idea, ThunderHaven provides that extra push into the unknown. Following in the steps of countless airplanes and military jets that have both teased and pushed past the sound barrier this is the super-fast plane that not only pushes past and surpasses the sound barrier, it full on blows it away entirely. ThunderHaven travels 8 times the speed of sound and is also capable of breaking out of Earth’s orbit and touching the stars if it pleased. Its design is sleek, made of the finest materials to keep the body both lightweight and strong, and also windowless. Fear not, inside passengers have a choice between a real-time visual of outside the plane or movies. ThunderHaven has three travel classes for each caste: low, medium, and high. 

Electric Vehicles 

Just because cars don’t fly in 2200 that doesn’t mean they don’t hold their usual allure if anything cars in the Republic are far more diverse and better suited for Earth (as well as people). Pulling power straight from The Grid once a vehicle is in motion, tends to stay in motion running on pure liquid energy without producing climate-damaging greenhouse gases and nitrogen oxide. They can travel for miles and never need to stop to charge while within City-State limits (near a central hub) because The Grid is most powerful there, however, once beyond City-State limits and in outer rim districts/Outlands The Grid is less powerful and vehicles need to recharge after 600 miles. Most vehicles are outfitted with solar panel cells built into their framework, so they remain lightweight, efficient, and ready to charge at a moment's notice if you’re in the outer rim districts/Outlands. Any caste of citizen can own an electric vehicle, what varies from caste to caste is the classification of vehicle. 

Speedsters: These are unhinged, drag-racing, high-performance “cars” with a design that primarily revolves around speed and elegance, most high caste citizens own Speedsters due to their designs and the materials that go into creating them. It’s costly. Speedsters usually never adventure past inner City-State districts because many are low clearance and wouldn’t survive the rough terrain of outer rim districts/outlands. Much of a Speedsters appeal originates from the sleek design they take on: wheels built tightly into the frame not bulky in any way, smooth aerodynamic design, and many resemble “classic muscle cars” from the past giving drivers a nostalgic feeling. While they are pretty to look at and comfortable to sit in people are also drawn to what lies underneath, a powerful engine that pushes past all known boundaries of horsepower.  Speedsters can be defined in two simple terms: powerful and fast.

Cycles: These are vehicles that are not allowed on ePath and resemble sport motorcycles in design. Cycles are extremely slender, hold up to usually only one person (driver), and have tire technology called tilt-tread to allow the cycle to perform tighter turns without risking the driver. The front wheel is locked forward so steering is done by tilting Cycles, not turning the front wheel (why tilt-tread is so crucial). However, when attempting certain maneuvers a pair of small fins spring out behind the driver to aid both balance and braking.  Speed can be increased by twisting the twist throttle back towards the driver (located on the right-hand side handlebar). Most Cycles also come with small twin jets seated by the back wheel, this allows faster speeds to be reached efficiently. Unlike Speedsters, Cycles can adventure beyond inner City-State districts and endure some of the rough terrains of outer rim districts/outlands pose. All kinds of citizens from Castes ride Cycles due to their affordability and ability to go beyond inner City-State limits. 

Trail Blazers: Rugged, usually larger than all other forms of electric vehicles, Trail Blazers are designed to do as their name suggests: pave new ways through the wild territory without being stopped. These are the vehicles that can easily adventure into the outer rim districts/outlands without a second thought, large tires paired with reasonable ground clearance to avoid hazards the terrain may pose and not sink into softer ground due to roads becoming less frequent the further they adventure. Trail Blazers adapt to the terrain around them by extending spikes from its tires for better traction and adjusting its suspension for either better ground clearance or shock absorption. Only high caste military personnel drive these vehicles. 

Roadsters: The last classification of Electric Vehicles, these are sporty vehicles that sit between the Speedster and Trail Blazer category. Their primary design isn’t based on speed or being able to survive the unforgiving landscapes of outer rim districts/Outlands, instead, it’s comfort mixed with style. Built with enough ground clearance to adventure into outer rim districts/Outlands while maintaining a sporty design these vehicles are made for the middle caste families. Roadsters are often referred to as “the family vehicle”, outfitted with a third-row seat (unlike most Speedsters and Cycles) that is roomy and comfortable it’s the ideal vehicle for traveling in groups. 

And there you have it folks, the modes of transportation in the world of Renegade! I had so much fun basically spilling all my thoughts about this fictional world I’ve created and fallen in love with. If you have any questions or want to know more just send an ask or anything! Part two of worldbuilding questions for the world of Renegade is the Social Structure. 

#WIP: Renegade #worldbuilding #modes of transportation in Wip: Renegade

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Omg can you do 23 and 60 (from the prompts) for an imagine (bonus point if Sweet Pea and reader low key can’t stand each other at first)??

I didn’t quite go for the bonus points because it wouldn’t have worked for the idea I had. Hope you enjoy it though!

23. “Just pretend to be my date.”

AND

60. “If Ididn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

Oh god, you think, cringing backinto the wall as your eyes sweep the room. Stepping on a discarded soda canmakes you jump like it’s a land mine. The place is packed; on sofas, indoorways, sitting on the stairs, pouring drinks in the kitchen, people areeverywhere―your peers in age if not in acquaintance. This suburban house partymakes you shifty, squirrely, and needy for the bright lights of home.

It didn’t seem so threatening earlier, when you were chatting in the livingroom with your mom, Mary, and Mr. Andrews, then hanging out drinking lemonadein their backyard. Mary and your mom have been friends for ages, back inChicago where you live. They met volunteering, which is something your mom doesto make the large city feel a little more like a community, and which Maryclaims to do because it makes her feel less like a lawyer. Meaning human.Lawyer jokes, in your opinion, expired sometime before the turn of the 21stcentury, but Mary makes them tolerable.

Of course, you would never have started being so much in Mary’s company ifnot for her son. Last summer, he came to stay with his mom over March Break.You met and it was… something… at first sight. Before you could tell if thething between you and the easygoing redhead with the earnest smile would turninto more than your mom going, “Hey, Y/N! Why don’t you and Archie check outthe aquarium/the museum/the art gallery/the park today?” (you playing the partof prospective love interest/tour guide), he was on a bus back to Riverdale.When he returned for the sliver of time between end of exams and IndependenceDay, the two of you did a little less sightseeing and a little more smooching,yet the chemistry just wasn’t there.

Nope, no fireworks in time for the 4th of July, just plenty oflingering weirdness like the smell of yesterday’s dinner that the distancebetween Chicago and Riverdale allowed you not to face. Until your mom decidedto tag along with Mary when she headed to her hometown for a visit. A realcommunity! A diner! A town hall! A post office! You accepted the inevitabilityof imminent travel plans, crossing your fingers that Archie would somehowmiraculously not be around to bump into.

Except that Mary and your mom decided to make their own plans and leave youto attend Archie’s party (promised to be very responsibly controlled, despitethe absence of Mr. Andrews). And now Archie’s over there in the other room andyou very much don’t want to look like the pathetic child of his mom’s bestfriend, dumped on him for the evening. The fact that it’s been a year since youdumped him is beside the point. You need a human life raft, or something largeto hide behind.

The front door―opening and closing so often since you arrived that you thinkthe Andrews should consider putting in a revolving door―flies inward yet againand the answer to your desperate party prayers walks through it. Who knows ifhe’d float, but he’s definitely big enough to conceal you, between the heightand the bulky leather jacket he wears unzipped over a black t-shirt.

“Perfect,” you mutter to yourself, eyes going side to side to check that youhave not just become the weird muttering girl on top of the pathetic child ofArchie’s mom’s best friend. Etc. etc. Your real and imagined humiliation endshere and now!

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Obstructing starts to follow the friends he came in withthrough to the other room, so you, desperate, grab his sleeve as he passes anddon’t let go. You are bold. You are determined. You are… possibly acting like abadly behaved Jack Russell, with this clamping onto and tugging of the sleeve,but hey, you seem to have gained your unwitting plus one’s attention. He stopswhile his pals go on ahead, looking after them.

“It’s cool, Northsider,” he says, barely glancing at you. “Everybody’sfriends now, remember? Do you need to check my invitation?” The guy snorts andlooks at you again. Starts to look away, and looks harder. “You don’t go toRiverdale High.”

“I’m not exactly on the bus route. Chicago,” you explain. He shrugs likehe’ll allow it, which might piss you off if it weren’t so confusing a response.You introduce yourselves, but your focus is elsewhere.

The guy is doing his job as a barrier so well, not that he has any idea, that you’ve lostsight of Archie. For the first time all night, you willingly move away from thewall and peer around. Shit, he’s heading in your direction, giving andreceiving backslaps like life’s just one big football game. You remember yoursurroundings. Small town. Student athletes. You reassess and mentally dial backthe prejudice. Just not enough that you’re suddenly feeling the need toactively be friendly to the host.

“You just escape prison or something?” the Great Wall of Leather asks you.“You’re acting a little… shifty.”

“If that helps you develop a backstory for our relationship, sure,” you fireback, panicking as Archie gets closer. You grab the guy’s hand. “Just pretendto be my date.”

“Uh, no.”

He begins to untangle his fingers from yours and you look down, noticing thelarge ring he’s wearing. This ring says ‘bite me,’ ‘fuck you,’ and ‘boy oh boywill this leave a mark if you make me want to punch you.’ With Archie on hisway over, evidently undeterred by the handhold you’re struggling to maintain, youdecide to gamble.

“So are you, like, really good friends with Archie Andrews?”

The guy looks at you like you just spit in his (hypothetical future) drink.

“No.”

“Great,” you assure him with a slap to his chest, quickly glancing sideways.“Then you can stick around for a sec and help me not interact with him.”

You hear Archie call your name in greeting, but you’re catching your ‘date’by the dog tags around his neck and yanking him down into a kiss. Your eyes aresqueezed shut and you throw your arm around the back of the guy’s neck (holycrap, he’s tall) to make it look convincing. You don’t hear your name again,though you listen carefully, like counting the seconds between rolling thunderclaps. While you’re working hard to determine whether the situation has beenresolved, Mr. Feisty with the dog tags and the tough-guy ring starts kissingyou for real, fingers searching forthe shape of your back through your denim jacket.

Roughly, you pull away, touching your lips to make sure he didn’t keep themover there with him. That was, youthink, feeling lightheaded, now that was a kiss.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” he concludes,curling his lower lip into his mouth as his tongue runs over it.

“I…” you attempt to protest, your tongue tying itself up like it’s trying tomake a suggestion for a second lip-lock. “You… you kissed me!”

“Uh, my brain and the marks you probably left on the back of my neck frompulling me down like that both say, ‘bullshit!’” he argues.

“Yeah,” you debate, poking a finger into his chest, “but I just kissed youto keep Archie away, you kissed mekissed me.”

“I did notice a difference,” he concedes.

“Good,” you shoot back, annoyed.

“The difference being the kissing’s better when I’m in control.”

“What?!” You spread your hands,trying to get this idiot to understand. “No-no-nuh-nuh-no. The only purpose ofthe kiss was to repel Archie. The kiss was mosquito spray. The kiss was a mousetrap.”

“Mouse traps attract mice.”

“Well, you’re confusing me! I’m screwing up my metaphors!”

He’s smiling down at you and you’re blushing and telling yourself it’sanger, but it’s not.

“Come meet the Serpents,” he invites, nodding towards the kitchen. Younarrow your eyes.

“Is there some sort of subliminal phallic messaging there?”

He snorts and throws an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s a gang.”

“You’re in a gang?”

“Yep,” he says―with disturbing casualness, in your opinion―as he steers youtowards these ‘Serpents,’ “and you’remy date.”

Prompts come from the narrowed down list here!

#my writing #drabble #riverdale drabble #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #southside serpents #southside serpents drabble #southside serpents fanfiction #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x reader drabble #archie andrews #sweet pea

[stories-from-my-mind-to-yours]

This is a Public Service Announcement.

TL;DR: Quick thank you to the reader, please give feedback, part of my most recent story further down. /end TL;DR

This is aimed at all of my 64 followers, to whom I truly am deeply grateful. Should anyone else find this, I am more than happy to share these lines with you as well.

The motivation to keep writing is largely thanks to you, yes, You, the one reading these words. As I write them, it feels as tho we are connected, on a level that cannot be easily explained. Now, less sentimentality, and let’s get this PSA underway.

I’ve been working on the latest addition to my page, and the aim for it is to be a lot longer than my previous stories. Some time in the future I would like for it to be released as a book, but that may be aiming for the stars with a broken slingshot. But nonetheless, I have set a goal, and I intend to pursue that goal like a stubborn child clinging to his favorite toy. I will be releasing excerpts, but given the depth of the storyline, as well as considering the time it takes a fully fledged author (which I am not) to write a decent book, there may be large gaps of time where I won’t be posting anything at all. But it is my sincerest hope to bring forth a story that you will enjoy, in fact the enjoyment of reading the story when it is finished is my only motivation. The possibility of my writing bringing some form of financial reward to the table would absolutely be a tremendous bonus, but it’s not something that I’m counting on in the foreseeable future.

But enough about that now. I promised you an excerpt, and I shall deliver. Feedback is greatly appreciated, good or bad, if you have an opinion, I want to hear it. The stronger the opinion, the more I want to hear it. Hell, I’ll even give you my phone number, if you want to call me and tell me how much my story sucks. Or how much you like it, your choice. Either way, that’s the end of my PSA. I hope you enjoy.

A Tale Of Time. Chapter I.

Far away from home.

The bright white sky above him was breathtaking, almost unbelievable. The two Suns was a magnificent sight all on itself, but the two large planets, visible even in the daytime sky, made it all feel unreal. The furthest planet reminded him of the pictures he'd seen of distant planets as a child, but this one had rings. The rings were turned on its head, going north to south, and covered much of the planets appearance, although it was painfully obvious he should’ve crashed on that planet instead. That planet had both oceans and vegetation, and an atmosphere. He could even faintly see the white clouds as they went on their way. The other large planet was on the opposite side of the planet he stood on, much closer to the binary star, and had paid a terrible price for it. The surface looked like a charred steak, cooked for far to long, and too close to the fire. It reminded him of burned flesh, covered in ash. If it weren't for the sun visor built into his helmet he wouldn't even have been able to turn his gaze anywhere near the source of light, it was simply too close and too bright for Terran eyes. Even with the visor down, the light hurt his eyes, but it was surely a sight to see. The two stars rotated so close to each other, it was almost hard to make out where one ended, and the other one started. He could see that the smaller one had started drawing mass from the bigger one, a sure sign that a supernova was due to happen soon. Well, soon considering an astronomical scale. It could be tomorrow, it could be in a million years. He had to look away, or risk permanently damaging his eyes. He blinked a few times, the sun spots on his eyes would take some time to disappear. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, most likely because there just wasn't enough moisture in the atmosphere to form even a single tiny cloud. And what little wind there was, only brought more heat, and sand. If it wasn’t for the slight situation he found himself in, he would’ve been amazed by the view and the scenery. The scorching sand below wasn’t much better than the bright light. Every step with his bulky boots was a struggle, the weight on his back and shoulders made the desperate fight for his life far worse. But at least he hadn’t chosen the black suit, and the suit did keep most of the heat from the sunlight off of him. “Cherish the little things in life sweetie, soon they’ll be gone, and then you’ll have nothing.” That’s what S'am used to say to him when he got cranky. If she had been here she would’ve had a few harsh words to say to him, that’s for sure. He could see her face in his mind, that short red hair, and the way her big blue eyes twinkled when she tilted her head to the side and smiled. And that cute little wrinkle she got between her eyebrows, she'd do that sometimes, mostly when he had done something stupidly dangerous. What he wouldn't give to see that face just one more time before... He shook his head violently, trying to shake his thoughts in order. No, that train of thought was not leaving the station. He tried to think of something else, but there wasn’t much else to occupy his mind. Sand. Sand dunes. A few small rocks sticking out of the dirt. More sand dunes. It didn't matter where he looked, it all looked pretty much the same. But he knew he couldn't just sit down and wait for the inevitable.

"You gotta keep moving, Jackass." He said to himself as he started walking. The concept of time quickly became completely pointless in this burning hell. There was nothing but sand and small patches of rough, dry dirt as far as the eyes could see. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the name of the binary star this god forsaken planet orbited around, but he remembered that both the inner planets were tidal locked. That meant that, if he was unlucky, which he apparently had a habit of being, he may have to cross a quarter of the planets circumference before finding some form of shelter. And to make matters worse, he felt the heat had already taken a heavy toll on his mind. He could hardly remember his own name. “One more step, Bru'ce. Just one more step.” That was the only thing he focused on, the next step forward. He couldn’t even begin to guess how far he’d walked, or for how long. But his survival instincts and his training took over, and ushered him forward. He knew damn well that the chances of him finding shelter was low, so he had made sure that he at least wasn’t wandering in circles. As he reached the crest of a small sand dune he stopped and turned around. The tangled mess that had once been his parachute, and the only reason he was still alive, dragged behind him. He looked to see if the lines it made in the sand behind him were somewhat straight. To his surprise, they were. Well, sort of. Not the straightest lines he’d seen or made, but absolutely good enough. With the sun on his back he kept walking. He was certain the two suns had been higher when he started, so he must be getting somewhere. But he hadn’t a single clue as to what he was aiming for. But there had to be something, somewhere. If he could find the escape pod, if there was anything left of it, then maybe he could send a distress signal. The relay wasn’t that far, it should be able to pick up the signal. Hopefully. No, definitely. It was going to work, he was getting off this lifeless rock alive. He just had to work hard for it. He adjusted the solar panels behind his helmet, trying to deflect as much light as possible. It had started getting hot as soon as he had woken up. He had flashbacks of the chaos on the ship, something catastrophic had happened, but he couldn't say exactly what. The onboard computer had been beeping furiously, just about every alarm possible had gone off at the same time. No cabin pressure, engines failed. Even the damn near indestructible antigravity reactor had gone offline. Then, darkness, and falling. He had woken up again in the escape pod as it tumbled down towards the surface. The emergency parachutes had deployed too soon, and burned up in the scorching hot atmosphere. If he hadn't bailed out in time and deployed the suits built in parachutes he would've been as dead as... Well, as dead as this planet. His thought were interrupted by the water reclaimer beeping discreetly in his ear. He glanced at the cracked display on his left arm. Water level at 35%. It had been 20% just a little while ago, but the thought of drinking his own recycled body fluids felt less appealing than ever. At least his batteries were fully charged. He knew he wouldn’t suffocate, unless the carbon filters clogged up due to all the sand. The rest of the display wasn’t much use, the atmospheric data was unreadable, and he wasn’t going to remove the only shade he had either way. The chances of this planet having an oxygen-based atmosphere, in sufficient quantities, were probably not the best. He laughed to himself. "Not the best? That's the understatement of the century right there." He kept his eye on the horizon and kept walking. “Come on, Bru'ce. One more step. I’m coming home, S'am. Just one more.” He started walking down the sand dune, desperate to find something.

#A Tale Of Time #scifi #story time #space exploration #humans are space orcs #space australia #earth is a death world

[unityghost]

Scratches

I’ve come to supply the internet with more angst. One can never have too much angst. It’s kind of like parmesan cheese.

This fic, part 6 of my ultra-emo series Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels, is based on a prompt I got from @t-rexhighfives​, who proposed the following: “later down the line (like probably a yearor two in the future), sam having a particularly bad day (bc lord knows sam hasnt been allowed to work through his own traumas, both bc of everything that happens and bc he wont let himself work through it) and then gabe is having a moderately bad day (not awful, not the worst, but not great either) and sam is trying to help gabe and its just. not working. and gabe is like '... sam, you okay?' and sams just like ‘fine, im fine’ and they both know its a lie and so gabe decides that since sam has helped him so much, hes gonna return the favor (idk if this is even interesting or good, i just think it would be interesting to have the tables turned on sam lol)”

It was good, and it was interesting! So thanks.

WARNING: This story contains brief references to torture and sexual assault.

... The spirit had been slaughtered by a local priest, and was exercising his revenge upon the clergy at the church across from where he was buried. Every seventy years or so, the parishioners were given the news that their pastor - or, occasionally, the assistant priest - had been burned alive. The general consensus was that it was suicide, and that the latest victims had picked up the idea from the unfortunate history of the parish. Sure, there were rumors of curses, of witchcraft and phantoms - but it was all fare for a small town whose self-image was all eighteenth-century colonial New England serenity.

The whole thing should have been a simple affair - gathering the sources, visiting the church, identifying the grave. And all of that had indeed been pretty straightforward; what they hadn’t anticipated was how swift and vicious the spirit proved to be.

He caught them in the dead of night just as they were preparing to incinerate the remains. Dean was armed with a lit match, per protocol, and the spirit seized it from his hand before throwing himself at Sam, forcing him into the dewey grass. He began to scratch at Sam’s face with ragged fingernails, and he screamed about the priest who had counseled him, the priest who had believed that some people deserved an early damnation. The spirit howled about how he himself had been among the casualties of the rector’s delusion.

But the spirit gave a spidery smile as he spoke about burning any priest that dared to warn the congregants about the dangers of taking a fellow man or woman to bed, lest they find themselves punished by the devil - just as he had been punished by the Reverend Casper Lockwood.

Only as the spirit attacked his brother did Dean find himself grateful that Sam allowed Gabriel to accompany them. Wickford Village in North Kingstown, Rhode Island was one of the few places Gabriel had never been in his millennia of existence.

“It’s not like there’s any real reason to go to Rhode Island at all,” he’d insisted. “Who cares about clams and potholes? But,” he conceded, “I could use a trip to overpriced new-age tourist shops as much as the next guy. You ever get ahold of those A-to-Z angel encyclopedias? I’m gonna sneak in and draw Shrek all over them.”

But in the cemetery, Gabriel - whose grace had returned in full force over the year since his rescue from Asmodeus - wrenched the spirit off of Sam, whose face was streaked with blood from the wounds inflicted by jagged fingernails, and pinned him down. But the spirit was strong; it seized Gabriel’s legs and threw him into the ground, reversing their positions so that Gabriel was crushed.

But there is no taking away an archangel’s ability to start a fire once he’s made up his mind and has his hands free.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the remains ignited.

Sam lay on the ground, listening to the growl of the flames.

By the time it was all over, the sky had inched from blue to gray, and Dean could barely stand up. Neither he nor Sam had slept in over twenty-four hours. He stumbled on his way back to the car, parked on the quiet village road strewn with the first shriveled leaves of late September.

“Dude,” said Sam, watching his brother collapse against the car. “You’re not driving like that.”

“I’m just tired; Father Pyro barely even noticed me.” Dean straightened up, pulled the door open, and hit himself himself in an inopportune area. “Son of a - !” He bent double and groaned. “You win this round, jerk. Get in the car.”

“No thanks, bitch. You think Cas could drive? I was thinking of hanging around, getting some breakfast at the café we saw on our way over.”

Dean raised his head to stare at Sam. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, I can’t go to sleep now that it’s almost daylight.”

“I don’t even know where Cas - ”

“I’m here, Dean.” Cas shuffled over to them, face littered with fine bloody streaks just as Sam’s was. “Sam - ” He placed his middle and index fingers on Sam’s forehead and the pain of the scratch marks faded.

Sam touched his face. Only five o’ clock shadow. “Thanks. Now heal yourself.”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t have enough grace at the moment. Fighting back was a little more than I’d - ”

“Let me, brother.” Gabriel touched him just as Castiel had touched Sam, and the wounds melted away.

“Sam, you’re gonna have to drive,” Dean instructed. His forehead was wrinkled in discomfort but he seemed otherwise recovered. That clumsy accident was, Sam realized gratefully, the worst that had happened to his brother tonight. “Cas is exhausted.”

Castiel looked more closely at Sam. “Sam, are you all right?”

“Yeah, Cas, you patched me up. Should have saved some of that juice for your - ”

“No. I mean you look distressed.”

Gabriel shot Sam a sharp glance. “He’s right, kiddo. What’s the matter?”

“I’m okay.” Sam was embarrassed. “Just thought I’d stick around for a little bit. I can always sleep later. You guys can head on back to the motel.” 

“Sammy, you should come too.” Dean’s tone was gentler this time. “You need to get some rest. Come on.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m fine. Really. I promise. Later, okay?”

“I could use a cup of coffee myself,” Gabriel chimed in.

“You don’t need caffeine,” Sam pointed out. “It doesn’t do anything for you.”

Gabriel inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Technically you’re right. But in a much more important sense, you’re wrong. And besides, I just got a nice little bone-fire going for you guys, didn’t I?”

“You do realize how that sounds, don’t you?” Dean groaned.

Gabriel ignored him. “Coffee can only lead to more grace, am I right, little bro?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Castiel replied.

“Oh, you’ve had one too many herbal teas. This guy” - he jerked a thumb at Sam - “is a bad influence.

“Gabe,” Sam interrupted, “I kind of want to be by myself.”

“Archangel vote counts as two; it’s the rules.”

Sam scoffed. “Whose rules?”

“Humans aren’t allowed access to that kind of information. Know your place, Sam. Now let’s go; these two want to get on the road.”

Sam struggled for a moment before admitting defeat. “Whatever, yeah, fine. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

Dean hesitated. “Call if anything comes up. We’ll be around.”

Castiel’s gaze met Sam’s. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Sam crossed his arms, shuddering against a chilly breeze. The sting of the wounds echoed in his skin like the remnants of a bad smell. “Yeah. Fine.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Gabriel promised.

With some reluctance, Dean and Cas climbed into the Impala, then drove away until they turned left on Main Street and disappeared.

Sam started walking in that same direction, saying nothing and refusing to acknowledge Gabriel keeping pace alongside him.

Sam kept touching his face, inspecting it for damage, and tried to ignore the twist of his stomach and the pounding of his heart.

But the silvery morning was too quiet, quiet enough to usher in a new voice: the voice that had playfully told him to hold still, that he wasn’t allowed to writhe in agony, that the more he screamed the deeper the knife would dig into him.

To Gabriel’s credit, he didn't try to initiate conversation. But it was hard for Sam to ignore the feeling of being examined from eight inches below.

The café opened its doors at 6:00, so they had fifteen minutes to lean against the bulky wood fence blocking off pedestrians from the water underneath. Off in the distance they could see a harbor and a few ducks and geese paddling their way into the daylight.

Finally, Gabriel spoke. “What was that?”

Sam shoved his hands into his pockets. “What was what?”

“The way you looked like you were gonna be sick the second that undadly freak of creation went back to where it belonged. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Gabriel’s expression darkened. “No, Sam. Nooooooo, no no no no no. I am not about to play the same game with you that you play with me.

"Sam creased his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” When Sam continued to look puzzled, Gabriel sighed. “That stupid back-and-forth where I freak out, and you become some kind of saintly masochist, and I try to get you to go away, and you say things like ‘Let me help you, Gabe’ and ‘I’m not gonna hurt you, Gabe’ and ‘I don’t want you to keep this inside, Gabe.’ That game.”

Sam looked away.

“Spill it, Winchester. What’s going on with you?”

Still averting his eyes, Sam muttered, “Bad memories. That's all.”

“That’s all.”

“Yes, Gabriel. That’s all.”

“Okay, well, what was that thing you said to me about trying to open up when someone offers to help make things feel a little less, I don’t know, soul-crushing? Oh, that’s right: you said to open up when someone offers to help make things feel a little less soul-crushing.”

Sam shook his head, thought about crossing his arms again, and realized he felt safer if he tried not to move at all. “You’re not going to want to hear it. It’s … it’s Hell stuff. It’d remind you of what happened with Asmodeus.”

“You mean like my stuff made you remember your time in the Cage?” He felt almost satisfied at the guilt that crossed Sam’s face. “Sam. Come on. It’s me. I owe you one anyway.”

“We’re not trading stocks,” Sam protested. “You’re not ready to deal with my shit, Gabriel.”

“Well if this stubbornness is anything to go by, you weren’t ready to deal with mine either.”

There were several moments of silence, in which Gabriel realized the weight of what he had said.

“You’ve helped so much,” he told Sam, hugging himself in a protective stance; and Sam could see that he was suddenly afraid someone would hurt him for his mistake. “I didn’t mean you haven’t. You’ve done a good job. You’re too patient, Sam. I don’t deserve what you’ve given me. Shut up,” he added as Sam opened his mouth to object. “My point is that I want to return the favor, not that I have to.”

Sam sighed. Gabriel let him have a few moments to think before Sam finally spoke. “That guy … the spirit … you saw the way he pinned me to the ground and made cuts all over my face?”

“Uncourteous bastard,” Gabriel agreed.

“Well …” Sam rubbed his palms together, staring off somewhere into the distance. “I still get these … these dreams about how Lucifer used to do the same thing. Only … only instead of trapping me on the ground, he’d throw me into the fire and keep me there while he drew on me. Pictures, you know - graffiti, sort of. Family pictures of all his brothers and sisters - every last one. But like …” Sam swallowed. “He used knives. All kinds of knives. I, uh - yeah. Yeah, that’s …” He trailed off, lowering his gaze to the sidewalk, examining his shoes - caked with clammy soil from the cemetery.

Gabriel tilted his head. “All right. Welp. That explains it. Now was that so hard?”

“Damn it, Gabriel.” Sam looked angry. “You know it is.”

Gabriel flinched. “I just … I want to help you.”

Sam glanced at him, and his expression softened in concern. “Gabriel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m good. Really. But anyway, Sam - why are you keeping this under wraps? Or, I mean, are you? Isn’t your brother there to listen? Or my brother?”

“I don’t know; I guess they could be.”

“But you won’t say anything.”

“I …” Sam licked his lips. “Gabriel … you understand. You understand better than anyone. I can’t talk about it because … because there’s too much there. Because I want to forget. And because I - ” The words caught in his throat. Gabriel watched him closely, wondering how to handle this with Sam as well as Sam had with him.

“Because what?” he pressed.

“Because I - because the last thing we need is extra problems,” Sam blurted out. “You’ve all got enough to be dealing with. And me complaining isn’t going to change anything; you know that! Besides,” he added more calmly, “This was your first time on a hunt with us - ever since things started to get a little better. You should be worrying about yourself, Gabriel.”

“Did you forget what I told you about how archangels have the final - ”

“The way he held you down.” Sam’s voice was quiet. “I know what that must have done to you.”

Gabriel tensed and Sam almost wished he hadn’t said anything to remind Gabriel of all those nightmares, all those spasms of memories - memories of the cold stone floor against his back and the hard warm body on top of him. “I’m not denying that. But look at me: I’m okay. A little shaken up, maybe, but okay. I knew what I was getting into. And anyway, now that I don’t need food or sleep I won’t have nightmares or puke my guts up. So forget about me for a second.”

Silence fell again. And then Sam said, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Gabriel gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, yeah, Sam, I do. You’ve drilled that into my brain. But now that I have a clear head, I want to help you too.”

“Why?”

Gabriel stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t know, maybe something to do with the fact that you've held my head over the toilet in the middle of the night so many times I lost count? Or the way you made sure nobody ever touched me without my permission? Or how, after months of me clinging to you, you didn’t give up?”

Sam grimaced. “Well, that was because you were …” He tried to find a diplomatic adjective. “… troubled.”

Gabriel tutted. “If by ‘troubled’ you mean ‘an undignified disaster,’ then I agree. But how is this any different, really? Come on. I’m not gonna take a single thing you say seriously if you don’t prove to me that you can practice what you preach.”

“Gabriel.” Sam was frustrated now. “What happened to me happened a long time ago. You’re just getting back on your feet. You need to focus on - ”

“You’re right.” Gabriel touched his shoulder as delicately as possible, knowing what it was like to be afraid of touch. “It was a long time ago. But that means it’s been sitting with you for years. What have you done with it? What I’d really like is for you to let me know when something freaks you out - don’t just hold that in. But it doesn’t have to be me; it can be anyone.”

Seagulls squawked overhead. The twin aromas of coffee and pastries drifted through the crisp morning air; 6:00 A.M. had come and gone, and the café doors were open. But neither of them made a move to go in.

“I think I’d want it to be you.” The confession surprised Gabriel, and he blinked. “Because … I think you’d genuinely want to hear it. Not Dean; he’s worse than I am. He’s not even tempted to say anything and he doesn’t need me throwing out all these reminders of what he went through.” His features hardened. “But neither do you. I know you’re more interested, and it’s not that I don’t appreciate it - I do. But it’s gonna make things worse for you. Bring up all kinds of stuff.”

“That’s okay.”

Sam tried to quell his anger so that he wouldn’t frighten Gabriel. “No, it’s not. Not after all your hard work.”

Gabriel snorted. “I think you mean your hard work.”

“Give yourself some credit, Gabe.”

“You give yourself some credit! Man, are you difficult to work with! Look, you told me about the knife thing Lucifer did, and do I seem upset to you? Do I seem like I’m freaked out?”

Sam studied him. Then he said, “No. You don’t. I’m glad.”

“Great. Okay, your turn. Ask me if I think you seem upset.”

Sam gripped the bar of the fence until his knuckles turned white. “Okay - fine. I’m not gonna disagree with you.” A pause. “Look, I know what I went through. I understand what you’re trying to tell me, all right? But I’ll get over it. I’ve been dealing with this for long enough that I know what to do when things get bad. I don’t want to bring anyone else into it.”

“I hear what you’re saying about me and your brother,” Gabriel admitted, “But why won’t you talk to Cas? He’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t know how to address this kind of thing. Can you imagine how that would go down?”

“What are you - ” Gabriel stared at him. “Do you even know him at all? Of course he’d know what to say! You’ve been the Three Musketeers for how many years now? And you think he’s not tuned in enough to help?”

Sam remembered how Castiel had looked at him back in the cemetery, brow furrowed in concern, and felt a twinge of guilt for misjudging him. “No, you’re right. That was a dumb thing to say.”


“Sam.” Gabriel somehow managed to sound simultaneously gentle and stern. “You don’t look okay. You really don’t.”

“Well I’m covered in graveyard dirt, so I’d have to agree with you there.”

“You’re pale. Sick. Shaky. Here, look - ” He picked up one of Sam’s hands to demonstrate that it was trembling.

Humiliated, Sam pulled away. “Don’t do that.”

But Gabriel seized his hand again and glared, no longer desperate but suddenly determined. “Listen up, you obdurate son of a bitch. I really, really don’t want to see you hurting. You always talked about how hard it was for you to watch me, remember? That’s what this is like! We’ve spent too much time together for me to play along and pretend you’re okay. I want to help. So please. Just let me.”

Sam paused, meeting his eyes.

Gabriel looked so much more like himself these days.

Sam took a deep breath. “I just don’t - ” He looked around, examining every part of the unfamiliar setting, hoping to distract himself from the tightness in his throat. “I - ”

Gabriel waited, still gripping his hand. When Sam didn’t continue, his voice softened. “There’s no one around, Sam. Just me.”

Sam looked at him, face flushed and eyes bright.

“It’s okay,” Gabriel went on. “Stop it. You’re hurting yourself.”

Sam turned his face away and squeezed his eyes shut. Now the prickling of the cuts was gone, replaced by the brininess of tears.

Damn it. After everything he’d been through with Gabriel - trying to bring him back to life, to coax him into something like what he had once been, to make the present feel stronger than the past - it was cruel of him to make Gabriel watch this.

Sam managed to compose himself enough to speak. “You know that feeling? The feeling that … that you can’t get out? That it’s happening right now and no one can help?”

Gabriel clutched his hand tighter. “Of course I do. But it’ll go away.”

Sam used his free hand to cover his mouth as the pressure against his chest became too solid to choke down.

“It will,” Gabriel insisted. “I’ll ride it out with you.”

Sam shook his head, clenching his eyes shut again, horribly ashamed. He lowered his hand. “It doesn't go away. It just - just gets worse before going down to where it usually is.”

Reminding himself that it wouldn’t get better - that it wouldn’t leave him alone - wrenched his control away.

He leaned up against the fence, trying to hide his face, trying to breathe.

“All right.” Gabriel put a hand on his back. “Just let it go back down to normal. Just wait for a few minutes. It’s gonna be okay.”

“No, it’s - that’s not what it feels like. Oh god - ” Sam shuddered, although there was no breeze this time. “You remember, don’t you? You know how bad it is. But you - you always talked about how you could tell the difference, how you knew your mind was playing tricks on you. Sometimes I just ... I don’t know where I really am, or who’s really with me. It’s - ” He released another harsh, desperate sob. “It’s too real.”

“Yeah, I knew how to separate one from the other. But only because I know how tricks work. They’re meant to feel real. And hey, so what if you can’t figure out what’s there and what’s not? Huh? Doesn’t change the fact that you’re gonna be fine.”

Nearly gagging from the effort of trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, Sam rasped, “Why did you make me do this? Why’d you want to make it stronger?”

“I didn’t!” Abruptly, Gabriel let go of his hand and took a step back. “I meant to make it easier!”

“I know - but -” He lowered his head, watching the sidewalk swim in a rough gray blur underneath him. “I told you not to.”

“Didn’t I always tell you the same thing?”

“No!” Sam jerked his head up despite feeling disgusted with himself. “I mean, yes, sometimes. But once in a while you … you looked for me. And you should have; I told you you could. But this is different, I ... I just wanted to be left alone.”

Gabriel looked helpless again. “You’re always alone. Because you don’t care about yourself enough to ask for what you need.” He hesitated.” You’re not scared of being touched, right? Not the way that I was?”

Am, Sam corrected silently. Aloud, he said, “Not usually. Not anymore. I - ”

Delicately, in case Sam wasn’t telling the full truth, Gabriel leaned forward and embraced him. Not the way Sam had done for him in moments of terror - Gabriel was so small that there couldn’t have been the same warmth and protection he got when Sam hugged him.

But Sam could tell he tried.

“I don’t care if you can’t tell what’s real,” Gabriel muttered. “You hold yourself together too well.”

“I really don’t.” Tentatively, Sam wrapped either arm around Gabriel’s shoulders.

“Come on. Your standards can’t be that high after a year of putting up with me.” Gabriel squeezed more tightly.

Sam was surprised - not so much by Gabriel’s outburst of affection but by his own reaction to it. He relaxed slightly, began to shiver a little less forcefully.

“That’s it,” Gabriel murmured. “You’re gonna be okay.”

They stood like that for several minutes, until Dean called to make sure everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

But gradually the wail of seagulls grew louder than the roar of hellfire.

...

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[special-agent-fiction]

The Promise - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Reader x Thorin Oakenshield (Slow Burn aka Friends First)

Summary: Taken in by the Durin’s when she was a child, Eleonóra has lived through it all; the glory of Erebor, Smaug, the journey to Erid Luin and now a Quest to reclaim the hallowed halls stolen from them so many years ago. With a promise to a dying princess to fulfill she will do anything to keep her boys, all of them, safe from whatever lies ahead on the road to their lost homeland.

Warnings: Allusions to Post-Natal Depression, Childbirth, Labour Complications and Major Character Death. 

Chapter Seven - Mahal Giveth and Mahal Taketh Away

The scene unfolding in front of Thorin’s eyes was one he would undoubtedly treasure forever; the fireplace in his home was blazing as the last moon of Autumn slid into place high above their under-mountain home, their table was almost full and the air was full of laughter as members of his family filled their living room.

“If you’re going to take up space in my kitchen, you’d better plan on making yourself useful.” He tore his eyes from the sight of Fili practically glued to Balin’s side as the dwarf read to him from whatever tome the boy had decided on from their small collection, to the woman at his side holding a masher in her outstretched hand as she stirred a pot.

“It wouldn’t be Durin’s Day without my famous potatoes.” He laughed, taking the implement from her hand and moving to the pot of freshly boiled potatoes cooling on the worktop.

“Your famous potatoes.” She scoffed at the statement. “Funny how they only became famous after I told you to add cheese.”

His retort died in his throat and was replaced by a grin as the final member of their small family signalled his arrival with two hard bangs on their front door.

“I won’t hesitate to bill you for a new door.” Ellie called out as he opened the rickety piece of wood that he’d been meaning to replace for years now and revealed the waiting Dwarf.

“And a happy Durin’s Day to you too, Ellie.” Thorin simply laughed at Dwalin’s deadpan reply to the woman who was a full head shorter than him but no less fierce.

“Welcome, brother.” Thorin greeted the man, the pair reaching out to each other in sync as they clasped the backs of their necks and pulled them close; foreheads touching with a force he knew made Ellie wince, before stepping back and allowing the bulky man in.

“Uncle Dwalin!” The dwarf barely had time to remove his furs before a small blonde blur launched himself at the warrior.

“Just when I thought he was starting to get sleepy.” Balin sighed, shutting the book and standing. “Evening brother.”

“Evening brother.” Dwalin replied, meeting the man in the same embrace as Thorin. “Am I late?”

“Not at all.” Thorin told him as Balin moved back to his seat on the sofa, Fili in hand as the lad was promised a more exciting tale after dinner. “We’re still preparing.” He held up the masher with a grin.

“Your famous potatoes!” The warrior laughed. “I knew this would be worth travelling for.”

“Ah, I’d travel from the ends of the world for Ellie’s cooking – that girl knows how to operate a kitchen.” Thorin laughed at Dwalin’s compliment, the man rubbing his full stomach with joy as he leant back in his chair at the now empty table. “You’re a lucky man.”

“That I am.” He smiled, his eyes instinctively flitting over to the woman in question as she sat side-by-side with Dis, the pair whispering about something as Fili slept between them; his head on Ellie’s lap as she absentmindedly stroked his hair.

“And a happy one too, by the looks of things.” Balin added, stealing back Thorin’s attention with a sly smile.

He liked this part of Durin’s Day the best; the part where the celebrations start to die down and blind merriness is replaced with true conversation. It had become a tradition of sorts now; they would all converge on this house, with Dwalin travelling in from whatever far flung place he’d wandered too in the months past, and would celebrate their most holy of holidays together, as a family.

When the meal was over and done with, Ellie and Dis would retire to the living room to relax while the three men cleared up and then filled their tankards to the brim with whatever Thorin had been hoarding for this exact day, and just be.

“Aye.” He agreed. “But why wouldn’t I be? My family are all here and Mahal gifted us with a full table.”

“Fili’s growing into quite the young lad.” Dwalin observed. “Now might be a good time to hand over that sword you’ve been working on since he was born, turn him into a real git khuzi.”

“Not yet. When he’s a little more balanced with the wooden one I’ll take him up top – out of harm’s way.” Thorin smiled at the thought. “Besides, he’ll be far too preoccupied with a new friend soon.”

“New friend?” Balin asked with a frown.

“Aye.” Thorin lifted his tankard. “We’ve a new Durin on the way.”

There was moment of silence before Dwalin reacted to the news.

“About dammed time!” The victorious slap on the back from the large dwarf all but choked him as he took a drink of his ale.

“I knew that happiness in your eyes was different, Thorin.” Balin grinned as Throin tried to cough out the ale that had stuck in his lung. “I’m so pleased for you; both of you.”

“Like I said; about time!” The dwarven brothers knocked their tankards together in a sort of toast before drinking heavily and giving Thorin the time he needed to decipher their strange reaction to the news.

“I’m just glad…” Balin started, wiping at his chin as he lowered his tankard. “…that you’ve moved past all those burdens you’ve lumped on your shoulders for all these years and are ready to accept Erid Luin as not just your home for now, but your family’s home for the foreseeable future.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Ellie of course.” Dwalin rolled his eyes. “Damn baby’s already got his mind in a twist.”

His eyes snapped back to Ellie and he suddenly saw all that they did when they entered his home: the pair of dwarves with their lives so closely intertwined both working to bring the family together for an important celebration. He saw how at home Ellie was with Fili asleep on her lap and how the three men sat together drinking could be seen as his way of trying to announce something of vital importance.

“Dis is pregnant.” He said, his eyes moving back to them just in time to see their smiles fade slightly and them share a look as realisation dawned.

“Ah.”

It was firmly winter now, the cold chill in the air was present even deep with their mountain community. But despite the cold it was a good day; the market was bustling with every cart packed full of commodities and spirits were high as celebrations from Durin’s Day continued to occur despite the date having passed.

That’s the thing about losing so much, Ellie mused as a group of children rushed past her, you cling onto the important stuff so much more. And Durin’s Day was important, it was the start of a new year for them; for this group of people who thought their first winter out of Erebor would be their last on this Earth as the snows descended on their ramshackle camps in the wilds.

But today was good for far more reasons too; firstly, she’d finally made her decision about what she wanted to do with her life. She’d assumed that the merchant knocking at their door late into the night had been bearing bad news so it had been more than a surprise for him to sit at their table and offer a business deal instead. She had been shocked, Thorin apparently, hadn’t. the man insisted that he’d been waiting for someone to actually offer her money for one fo her drawings for some time now, especially as they’d gotten larger and more elaborate following the ready availability of paints courtesy of Dis’ husband.

“I told you having a merchant in the family would be a good thing.” Thorin had said as she squealed in delight over a new shade of green. She’d merely elbowed him in the stomach, deciding to forgo a reminder of his stubbornness all those years earlier, and thanked the merchant for his kindness before re-wrapping the paint and storing it away for future use.

“Looks like a certain stall is getting quite the crowd.” Dis teased, nudging her as they rounded a corner and were met with the sight of a rather busy cart; it’s owner exchanging coins for landscape drawings with ease.

“They’re likely doing it out of some misplaced loyalty.” She said, turning from the stall. “Why would these people, who have received a simple sketch as a present for years, buy more of my work?”

Dis rolled her eyes. “Because you’re talented.” She told her, looping her arm through her own. “Isn’t that right, mim razdith?” She asked, smiling down at the five-year-old holding onto Ellie’s free hand as he nodded eagerly.

That was the other reason for her happiness; Dis. Though only just beginning to show, her pregnancy was clear to see as she walked everywhere with hand protecting her growing bump and grinning to everyone who stopped to ask how she was.

The dark cloud that had surrounded the princess for the past few years seemed to be losing its hold on her. She wasn’t sure if it was the excitement of a new baby or the fact that her husband had promised to reduce his travels after coming home to find that his son barely knew him. Not that Fili lacked male role models though, Thorin was rarely from the boy and Balin was a huge part of his life too. Between them they’d started the lessons that all members of the royal family had once received at young ages in Erebor and it warmed her heart every time she saw a glimpse of a true prince in the boy’s eyes. One that promptly faded whenever Dwalin showed up with a new tale of adventure and a mini weapon to re-enact it with.

But everything seemed to be falling into place for Dis and she was confident that she’d not be needed as much anymore: Fili was older, they weren’t living pay-check to pay-check anymore and Dis was far more prepared for a baby this time around.

It’s why she’d said yes to selling her work and judging by how much money the man had delivered to her from his last outing into the lands of Men, she wouldn’t be scrabbling for grocery money anytime soon either.

Things were falling into place for her too, she supposed. Less time with Dis meant more time at home and more time at home, meant more time with Thorin. Thorin. She’d be a fool to say that she hadn’t noticed how close they were; how comfortable they were together especially when it was just the two of them and a small child. They’d never spoken about how easily they’d fallen into a routine together and now, with Dis firmly building her own life, maybe they’d finally have the chance to explore what they could be if left alone.

Thorin made her happy. He made her feel warm and safe and she knew that if they were ever going to get back onto the track they’d been heading towards back in Erebor, it would be now. she knew that he thought himself unworthy these days; that his forge was no replacement for the crown he’d lost but she was desperate to show him that the throne had never been the reason she spent time with him. That she filled her days with him because of who he was, not who he would have been.

If riches and parties had been her plan, she’d have married long ago to all the men who wrote to her when they’d settled here. Thorin had never seen the inked promises of silks and jewels and he never would; they’d become ash as soon as she reached the end of the page and her replies, though courteous, had been simple: No.

They continued to wander through the maze of stalls, stopping now and then to finger at something that took their eye until the sound of a hammer moulding steel filled their ears. Fili instantly perked up, whether at the promise of warmth from the forge or just the prospect of seeing his beloved uncle. Dis smiled too as they neared the familiar forge and called out a greeting to the only man in Erid Luin who wasn’t bundled up against the cold: sweat running down his forehead, Thorin pushed his loose hair from his eyes and grinned at the approaching party.

Yes, today was a good day, she decided, glancing once more at the busy market square before stepping into the warmth of the smithy.

“We told him not to.” The dwarf wrung his hat between his hands as he spoke, never daring to meet their eyes. “Told him that in those winds it would impossible.” Ellie’s hand tightened around Dis’ as he continued. “But he went anyway emulhekh. We couldn’t stop him and then the snow shifted and…” He trailed off, his eyes moving from his hands to Thorin’s as Dis’ sobs intensified. “We dug through the night.” He told him, eyes watering at the memory as Thorin nodded solemnly. “Knew we had to bring him home.”

“And we will never be able to thank you enough for that.” Thorin’s voice sounded too loud in the smallness of their living room.

“No thanks needed, thanu men.” The dwarf insisted. “He was one of us.”

Any further words of apology and sympathy were lost to Ellie as Dis let out another sob and she pulled the Princess close. They’d been in this position once before, she remembered; the memory of Dis sobbing into her as news of Frerin, Thrain and Thror was recounted to them. Thorin had had to be the strong one then as he was now; leading the dwarf back out of the house and no doubt making the first arrangements for the body to be prepared.

“He promised he’d come back to me.” Dis cried, her words muffled slightly by Ellie’s shoulder. “Promised he wouldn’t go so far anymore and we could be a proper family.” Ellie glanced down the protruding stomach that separated them from being any closer. “Why was he so stupid?”

She had no answer for her and instead resorted to shhing her and rubbing her back as the woman emptied her eyes.

She supposed that he’d attempted the crossing for the simple reason of it would be his last chance too. From what she’d heard, the narrow strip separating Edoras from Erech was treacherous even in the height of summer but now, with the winds so fast and the snow so blinding, trying to follow the rivers path had been deadly.

“How will I tell Fili?” Dis asked, her sobs receding as the initial wave of grief began to subside into plain worry. “How do I tell him his father is dead?”

“Dis...” She sighed, not knowing what to say to her as the Princess sat up.

“And what will I say to this one?” She asked, one hand on her stomach. “At least Fili will have some memory of his father, this one will never know him.”

“They won’t need to.” She hadn’t heard Thorin re-enter the room. “We’ve enough stories of him between us; it’ll be as though he is here.”

“But he won’t be.” Dis refused to look up at him as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “He won’t be here.”

“No, he won’t.” Ellie agreed. “But neither is Frerin, or your father and grandfather and Fili knows of them; knows who they are and what they did.” She sat forward on the sofa and took Dis’ hands in her own. “People aren’t lost if their memory lives on.”

“Will you help me?” She asked, voice cracking as she glanced between Thorin and Ellie. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Of course we will.” Ellie’s voice was soft as she met Thorin’s eyes above Dis’ head. With a sad smile, she turned from him and stared into their blazing fireplace where all her dreams of their future were now residing.

Everything was different this time; there had been no urgent knock at the door telling them that Dis was in labour because they had been with her, as they had been now practically everyday since the funeral; Thorin wasn’t downstairs waiting for any sound of new life because he far above them on the mountains’ surface distracting Fili; and there were no shared smiles between the labouring princess and her midwives because the older dwarves had already told them that something was wrong.

It had started yesterday when Dis had all but collapsed in her kitchen. Thorin had caught her before she hit the floor but things hadn’t been right since; heart pounding, breath clipped and a sudden gasp as pain seared through her stomach had seen her confined to bed within the hour. Then the vomiting had started and just when Ellie was convinced things couldn’t get worse; her waters broke.

Now she was red-faced and panting even as the contractions subsided and the damp cloth that had been laid over her eyes was apparently doing little to quell her crippling headache.

“What can I do?” She whispered to the midwives as they shared another grim look. “Please, let me help her.”

“There’s nothing that can be done, azbadu men.” The female dwarf took her hand as Dis let out another groan. “It’s going to be a long night.”

The baby was a handful of minutes old when the tides turned on them again; the last hour had gone smoothly and Dis’ headache had started to subside as the promise of a new baby had kept her going.

They’d barely had chance to tell her that she was the mother to another son when the convulsions had started. She’d turned with the bundle in her arms and almost dropped them as the princess’ eyes rolled backwards in her head and she started to fit.

She’d been useless, absolutely useless as the midwives tried to hold Dis down and stop the jerky movements her limbs were making. The baby safely tucked up in its waiting bassinet, Ellie had practically thrown herself down the stairs and out into the street, she’d latched onto the first dwarf she’d seen and somehow they’d been able to understand her rushed beg for help.

Thorin arrived barely twenty minutes later, almost as red-faced as his now conscious sister, with Fili in his arms.

“Let me see her.” His voice had been deathly low and she envied the bravery the midwife clearly had as she once again refused him entry into the bedroom, promising that once she was decent and comfortable she’d let them in.

“Ellie.” Dis’ voice, by comparison, had been shaky as she held out a hand to her brushing away the midwife trying to listen to her chest with a cone-shaped instrument.

“It’s okay, Dis.” She shushed the woman, perching on the edge of the mattress, the princess’ freezing hand between her own as she tried to keep tears at bay.

“No.” She took as deep a breath as she could. “No, it’s not.” She forced a smile. “But I’m okay with it; the curse of Durin women, remember?”

“I’m not going to let you die.” She promised, squeezing her hand as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I promised to keep you safe.”

“And you have.” She lifted a shaky hand to wipe away the tear and Ellie wondered when exactly did the small girl she’d played with become this pillar of strength even as she lay here dying. “Now I need you to do the same for my boys. Bring him to me.” She nodded to the bassinet at the foot of the bed and Ellie rose to lift the bundle and place him in his mother’s arms. “He’s beautiful.” She murmured as he nestled into her. “With true Durin hair.” She fingered the wisps of black covering his head before pressing a kiss to it and whispering to him softly. “Men lananubukhs me, bunnanunê.” Feeling a fresh wave of tear coming, Ellie stepped back to allow the waiting midwife to take the baby before reclaiming her space and Dis’ hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dis asked. “You have given me so much, Ellie; from the moment you stepped into my nursery you have been my sister and I will never be able to thank you enough for that…and so much more.” She pushed herself up slightly, her breath straining slightly at the action. “You saved us.” She squeezed her hand. “All of us.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“And that’s what makes you family.” She smiled softly, taking another deep breath as she delivered what Ellie knew would be her most important message. "Promise me you'll look after them." Her hold was tight despite the life fading from her. "Promise me."

"I promise." Ellie said, squeezing back.

"All of them." Dis added, her eyes darting to the door and the two who waited outside.

Ellie simply nodded, her understanding clear. She pressed a kiss to the princess' hand and gestured for the door to be opened. A whirlwind of blonde hair with a nose so like Frerin's burst into the room and clambered onto the bed with a cry of 'Mama'. Ellie wiped a tear from her eye and stood, giving the princeling room.

"I promise." She repeated, whispering to herself as a hand guided her by the shoulder into the waiting broad chest.

“Mim razdith.” Dis breathed as Fili cuddled up to his mother. “You must be strong now, Sanûrzud.” She insisted, stroking the blonde hair that was the source of all his nicknames. “I need you to be a good big brother.” She nodded once again to the bassinet as Fili peered at it. “He needs you: Kili needs you.”

“I promise, Amad.”

“Good.” She pressed a kiss to his head. “You should go now.” She told him, hushing his cries. “But remember Fili, you and Kili…” She smiled at the bassinet. “…Menu tessu, uzfakuh.”

She’d waited until the small prince left to say more; watching as Fili took Ellie’s hand, the woman brushing away the tears that were free-flowing now, and smiling softly at them as they left with the midwives carrying Kili’s bassinet behind them.

“Nadad.”

“Namadith.” He breathed, taking the space Ellie had previously occupied on the mattress edge.

“I don’t know what to say.” She wheezed, her lips lifting in a smile. “I never thought-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dis.” He told her, taking her hand.

“I made Ellie promise to look after them.” She told him, her eyes straying to the closed door as if trying to get one last look at her children. “Not that I doubted she would anyway but…it’s comforting to hear it out loud.”

“We’ll look after them.” He promised, unable to say more as his throat tightened at her paling face and fading grip.

“I know.” She sighed. “But look after her too.”

“Don’t worry about any of that.” He reached out to smooth back her hair. “Just relax.”

“I wish I could have seen it again.” She murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. “Erebor.” She clarified and his hold tightened at the name. “Perhaps my boys will, one day.” He let his own eyes close at the hope lifting her voice a little. “What will I say to her, Thorin? Will she like me?”

“Who, Dis?”

“Amad.” She breathed the word. “I’ve waited my whole life to meet her and now I will, in the digondamaar.”

“She’ll love you, Dis.” He told her, pressing a kiss to her hand. “As we all have.”

She smiled at the thought; at the prospect of reuniting with their lost family in Mahal’s halls. Thorin watched as peace crossed her features and felt his tears fall now she couldn’t see them. He held her hand until the chill of her skin started to cool his own and then, with a kiss to her forehead he left.

Khuzdul to English translations:

Git khuzi – little warrior Mim razdith – little sun Emulhekh – majesty Thanu men – my king Azbadu men – my lady Men lananubukhs me, bunnanunê – I love you, my tiny treasure Sanûrzud – perfect sun Amad - mother Menu tessu, uzfakuh – you mean everything to me, my greatest joy Nadad – brother Namadith – little sister Digondamaar – Golden halls of Mahal

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit imagine #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #thorin x oc #thorin x ofc #thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield x ofc #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit an unexpected journey #the hobbit the desolation of smaug #the hobbit the battle of the five armies #original character #original female character #fili and kili #balin #dwalin #dis #death #childbirth

[bestinmovers0]

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[jbankai89]

Never Let Me Go [26/37]

A/N: For the foreseeable future (til about mid-May or so) I will be posting on Thursdays, so this is the LAST early update, and the next one will be on February 1st.

Chapter Twenty-Five – The Omega Liberation Front

A week after Yuri had been given the blackout glasses, they were swapped for a pair of sunglasses with a dark tint to them. He could see, and with them the overhead light in his room was as dim as twilight.

Regardless how dark Yuri's outlook on the world was (both figuratively and literally) however, after roughly seven and a half months, Yuri could see again, and it felt like nothing short of a miracle.

After seeing the state of his living quarters with his own eyes however, Yuri almost wished that he couldn't.

It was a small and square room, and the fake hardwood was stained with old blood and black skids of rubber. His mattress was clean—technically—but like the floor it carried old stains, black and rust-coloured ones that Yuri did not wish to identify. The room spoke of how Yuri had very much dodged a proverbial bullet in terms of his treatment at the hands of his trainer, and as he gazed around at the space, Yuri rested a hand compulsively upon his baby bump.

Thank you, baby, Yuri thought for what was likely the hundredth time, you saved me.

Yuri was deeply grateful, and though his outlook was still grim, Yuri was more determined than ever that he not let these monsters take his child away. He would repay his unborn child, and save them from a life of abandonment or neglect, of this he was certain.

It's amazing, really, Yuri thought as he settled back down on his side, his hands still cradling the swell of his stomach, how can I love someone that I've never met? But I still feel like I know you, baby, and I will protect you, even if it kills me. I love you so damn much, and I know that your father will, too.

“I'll get back to you, Beka,” Yuri whispered, not wholly aware that he was even speaking aloud as he curled up on the mattress, and tried to sleep. “I swear, I will...”

 ~*~

 Another week passed, and Yuri's glasses were swapped once more, this time for ones with a red tint to the lens. Even with the new frames light still made his eyes twinge painfully, and positively ache without the protective lenses, but it was clear that they were improving, albeit much more quickly than Yuri had anticipated.

In that time, Yuri hardly saw his trainer. He was grateful, for that meant he did not need to expect any sort of painful punishments for his accidental verbal or physical slights, but the loneliness that this caused was difficult to manage, and Yuri began to almost dream of the man coming in, even if it was just to insult him more.

One day—or night, it was still impossible for Yuri to tell what time it was—his trainer stormed into the room and all but threw his meal at him, making Yuri jump with surprise. His trainer's face was contorted with fury, a face Yuri could now see—fierce dark eyes, almost no neck, his head perched like an egg upon a body wide with muscle. He was a terrifying man in every sense of the word, and after seeing him, Yuri felt even less inclined to fight back.

 The food Yuri caught deftly, and he wolfed down the bread and water like a man starved. It was the same hearty fare he'd grown accustomed to during his incarceration, but his trainer had come with it late today, and thus Yuri had scarfed it down so fast that his stomach cramped and protested the speed with which he ate.

The moment Yuri had finished, the trainer, his expression sour, stepped back and rapped one knuckle against the closed door of Yuri's room.

The door opened immediately to admit another person, presumably the new trainer he was being transferred to. Yuri swallowed nervously as he gazed up at him, physically as different to his current trainer as night and day.

The man was fair-skinned, with black hair and blue eyes. His hair was styled into a point, as though he'd tried for the sticking-up style so many young men bore, but somewhere along the way it became sharper and more geometric. He was thin, slender where his current trainer was bulky, and dressed in a suit of deep violet and black. Yuri could smell the reek of alpha scent coming off him, and he immediately curled an arm over his pregnant belly protectively.

“Oh, how sweet,” the newcomer rumbled in a deep, mocking voice, “he is so protective of his brood that he stole from the alpha.”

“They always are,” his trainer agreed with a chortle, “nasty, thieving little whores.”

I'm not a whore, Yuri thought, but did not dare to say it aloud. Some of his defiance must have shown on his face however, given how the two alphas began to laugh nastily.

“Seven, nearly eight months under your thumb, and he's still defiant!” the newcomer proclaimed, and his current trainer frowned at the new one.

“He is wilful, Popovich, don't give me this shit,” Yuri's trainer said sourly. “S'not my fault that he's too stupid to submit to his superiors like he should.”

“He will if he doesn't want me to rip that squalling infant out of his belly prematurely,” the alpha, apparently called Popovich, said, and Yuri paled. His arms tightened over the swell of his pregnant stomach, and he shifted back incrementally.

“Y-you're not supposed to hurt my child,” Yuri protested softly, his protective maternal instincts eclipsing his self-preservation ones as he gazed up at the new alpha. Popovich smirked.

“You're past six months,darling. Your brood will survive on a ventilator just fine if it comes to that,” he said with a nauseatingly sweet tone of voice. “Just don't cross me, and we won't have to worry about it.”

Yuri bit his lip as he eyed the new alpha, trying to gauge whether he was exaggerating or not. His expression was blank, impassive, making it difficult to tell whether or not he was bluffing. Unnerved, Yuri dropped his gaze, but his arms were still tense and taut around his unborn child.

“Better,” Popovich said approvingly. “Up you get, darling, we got a long way to go.”

Yuri chanced a glance up, and saw Popovich smiling at him with the same false kindness, while the alpha curled the index finger of his right hand in a come hither motion.

Yuri's mind was still clouded by protective instincts over his baby, and reluctantly he got up and moved over to him, despite how small his stomach was—at least compared to what Yuuri had looked like at this stage—his gait had still adopted a slight, albeit distinctive pregnancy waddle, which made his face burn with embarrassment as the two alphas looked on and chortled at him.

Upon reaching the pair, Popovich took Yuri's wrists in a terrifyingly gentle grip, and began to pin them together as he unlatched a pair of shiny handcuffs from his belt. Yuri tensed.

“Please,” Yuri whispered, his feeble tone making him nauseous with shame, “please don't. I won't run—I can't run like this...please don't cuff me.”

“Sorry, darling,” Popovich said, “I have no choice. It's this or a collar, which, as I understand it, you like even less.”

His current trainer chuckled at that, while Yuri felt his face burn with shame. Reluctantly, he allowed the man to pull his wrists together at his front, and cuff them together with a despairing click.

Shaking all over and hating his restriction of movement, impeding his ability to protect himself if needed. Yuri was offered a pair of boots, which he recognized as his own from when he arrived. Uncertain why he didn't give them to him before his hands had been bound, Yuri decided it might be better to not ask, and slipped into them awkwardly before he reluctantly followed his new trainer out of the room.

The hall was just as long as Yuri remembered it to be, and deadly silent, save for the occasional sound of an omega weeping. It was unnerving.

“Hurry up,” the new trainer snapped suddenly, making Yuri jump. “I haven't got all day, and we have a long way to go.”

Popovich smirked as he spoke, but it was less like the cold, sadistic amusement he'd familiarized himself with with his previous trainer. This time, it was more like he was in on a private joke that Yuri was not a part of.

But what does it mean for me? Yuri wondered as he picked up his pace as best he could, but walking was still awkward at the best of times, what with his centre of gravity not in the same place where it used to be. Will he hurt me or the baby? Or both? Will I really have any chance of running away like this?

Popovich led Yuri out of the house, and outside it was warm. Summer.

Heat crept up Yuri's form, and his forehead became moist. Sweat dampened his back covered by the thin but warm three-quarter length sleeved shirt he was presently wearing, and his legs felt trapped and stuffy inside the lounge pants. His feet were positively stifling inside the winter boots, and Yuri just barely managed to bite back a moan of discomfort at how hot it was outside.

A black sedan was waiting for them on the curb, and Popovich directed Yuri to the back seat of the vehicle before he circled to the driver's seat, where he started the ignition and locked all the doors with the press of a button. He then turned to Yuri and unlatched his handcuffs, exchanging them for a stack of clothing.

“Here,” he rumbled in a tone of voice that was almost kind. “You must be baking in those clothes. I promise I won't peek.”

He smiled, but Yuri did not return it as he accepted the clothes. They were fitted cutoff black jeans with an elastic maternity waistband, along with thin, breathable socks, canvas shoes, briefs, and two top options—a T-shirt or a tank top.

“Thank you, Alpha,” Yuri said robotically.

“Just call me Georgi,” Popovich replied as he offered Yuri a strange, kind smile, and turned to the wheel while he picked up a cell phone out of one of the cup holders. He pressed a button just below the radio, lifting a tinted glass screen between the driver's side and the back seat, giving Yuri a little more privacy to change. As Popovich drove down the street, Yuri took the opportunity to quickly change into the cooler clothes, opting as he did so for the T-shirt—he'd had more than enough of showing off more of his body than he really wanted to. At the same time, he heard the low rumble of Popovich speaking into a phone.

“Hi, it's me,” Popovich said as he drove, “the kitten is in the carrier. Is the airstrip ready?”

A small, tinny voice on the phone answered, and Yuri spotted Popovich smile in the rear view mirror as he cracked down the tinted screen, and upon seeing Yuri changed into the fresh clothing, he rolled it down the rest of the way.

“Excellent,” he said to the person on the other end of the line, “do you have the cub?” the voice responded with a faint yes. “Perfect. We'll be there shortly.”

Popovich hung up, and Yuri watched as he went a step further and switched the phone off entirely. At a stoplight, he took his hands off the wheel and pulled a roll of ordinary scotch tape from the glove compartment, and used a few small pieces to cover up the microphones upon the phone, then flicked off all the Bluetooth and WiFi capabilities of the vehicle. He then looked up, and caught Yuri's eye in the mirror.

“I'm sorry for the show back there, Yuri,” he said consolingly, and strangely, it sounded as though he meant it, too. “But I have been infiltrating the system for over ten years, and I have an image to maintain. I promise that I do not plan to do any of the things I said back there, it was just to get you away from the trainers.”

Yuri blinked, and stared.

It was a front?

Infiltrating the system?

Get him out of there?

What was happening?

“Who—who are you?” Yuri asked, and Popovich's mouth twitched into a small smirk.

“Georgi Popovich, at your service,” he said as he drove off again as the light changed. “Secret Agent for the infamous OLF. We're getting you out of here—you and a certain alpha who tried to save you.”

“Otabek?” Yuri asked in a rush, “you have my—you have Otabek? Is he all right? Is he hurt? Where did they take him? What did they do to him?”

“He's safe now,” Georgi said with a small, reassuring smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “They really put him through the ringer, though. Electroconvulsive Therapy, starvation, whipping, cutting, he was not allowed to relieve himself for long periods, then not allowed to clean himself up after, he got sick a lot. Honestly, I do not know how he will react when he sees you, so you need to prepare yourself, okay? Just in case.”

Yuri wanted to ask, prepare myself for what? But he already knew the answer.

Prepare yourself for a rejection, or maybe something worse—like Beka no longer recognizing me.

Yuri bit his lip, and did not speak as he shifted his gaze to the window. He pulled his seat belt on, and he stared out at the passing urban landscape, watching the buildings flick past as they merged onto the highway.

He knew that there was every chance that this whole explanation was a huge, elaborate setup to see how Yuri might react to the allure of freedom. These people were ruthless, after all, and he wasn't stupid—he knew that they wanted to do everything in their power to keep Yuri as downtrodden as possible.

And yet...

Somehow, strangely, impossibly, Yuri knew that Georgi was not lying.

He was free.

Otabek was free.

Despite the reassurance that this was true, Yuri could not quite muster up any sort of joy. It still did not feel real.

Yuri pressed his palm to the window, and settled back against the plush seat as the world rushed past him.

 ~*~

 They drove for over an hour in relative silence, Georgi picking up his speed when they passed though the city limits, and Yuri recognized the road they were on as the same one they led to Otabek's home. Yuri swallowed a moan of longing when he thought of him—his true alpha.

Assuming Otabek even still wanted him, that is.

They did not drive to the airport, but instead headed in the opposite direction, until they came upon an old farmhouse with a huge expanse of empty fields, one of which bore a paved strip and a small aircraft. Yuri didn't know much about planes, aside from the fact that they went up, but this one seemed like a stunted passenger plane, with similar dimensions to the huge planes at the airport, but roughly half the size.

Georgi parked the car and helped Yuri out, casting a glance around with narrowed eyes as he led Yuri away from the house, across the field, and to the air strip. Outside of the little plane was an entourage of people waiting for them that made Yuri's heart swell—his grandfather, Phichit, Minami, Viktor, and Yuuri—with a stroller bearing three identical, dark-haired, blue-eyed babies.

The three little girls squeaked and squealed in their stroller, save the middle one, who was watching Yuri with wide eyes past a pink and yellow dummy in her mouth. Viktor chuckled and took one of the fussing girls into his arms, while Yuuri circled the stroller and ran at Yuri, only remembering at the last moment to not tackle him, and pulled him into a tight hug. At the same time, he watched Georgi step aside and moved over to Viktor, and began to speak to him softly.

“Yurio,” Yuuri whispered tearfully as he hugged him close. “You're safe now, you're home.”

Yuri hugged the brunet back, and gazed over the older omega's shoulder at the collection of people waiting for him, but someone was missing.

“Where's Beka?” he asked, and Yuuri chuckled warmly at Yuri's complete lack of preamble.

“Inside,” Yuuri replied as he patted Yuri reassuringly on the back. “He's...he needed to rest.”

Yuri needed to see him. Now. However, before he had a chance to voice this desire, his arms were filled with Minami, who almost choked him in his excitement.

At the same time, Yuri noted that there was the distinct smell of alpha all over him.

Yuri pulled back and checked Minami's throat to be sure, but there was no new mark there. He eyed Minami curiously, and he smiled up at Yuri sheepishly.

“You've been seeing a lot of Phichit, I take it,” Yuri said, and Minami's face tinted pink. “What happened?”

“Can I tell you later?” Minami asked in a small voice, “we just sort of need to get out of here right now, and we'll have a couple hours on the plane.”

“Sure,” Yuri replied with a small chuckle, and turned to the last person in the procession of people waiting to greet him.

Nikolai was leaning on his cane and smiling at Yuri warmly. His eyes were fixed solely on Yuri's face, not on the bump protruding from his abdomen, and slowly he made his way forward.

As though something in him had broken, Yuri hurried forward, and with a wide smile and tears in his eyes, he hugged his grandfather close.

“Grandpa...” Yuri said weakly, and Nikolai's arms tensed around him.

“It's all right, Yuri,” Nikolai said as he rubbed his back, “my brave, brave, grandson, it's all right, it's all right, you're safe now.”

Yuri wept into his shoulder, clinging tightly to his grandfather while the older man continued to rub his back consolingly, just like he used to when Yuri was small. He sniffled softly as he tried to calm himself down, aware that they needed to go, but no one rushed him onto the plane. They all waited patiently, Viktor, Yuuri, and Minami now all each with a babe in their arms, bouncing the girls gently to keep them calm. Georgi was off to one side, gazing around with narrowed eyes, and a hand resting on the side of his jacket, giving Yuri the impression that he might be sporting a concealed weapon.

Yuri pulled back from his grandfather and turned back to the others. His gaze fixed this time on the children, and Yuri's hand fell compulsively to his baby bump. Yuri moved the rest of the way towards them, and smiled a little as he reached out for the quietest of the three babies, held in Yuuri's arms and dressed in a pink and white-striped onesie. The baby wrapped her hand around Yuri's index finger the moment that he reached for her, and he smiled a little.

“What are their names?” Yuri asked, and Yuuri smiled softly at the child in his arms.

“This is Yuriko,” he said, then motioned to the child in Viktor's arms, who was wearing a onesie with little yellow ducks all over it, and was giggling as she clung to Viktor's sunglasses, “that is Antonia, and that—” he motioned to the third little girl held by Minami, who was wearing a spring green onesie and patting at Minami's cheek, a matching green dummy in her mouth, “—is Viktoria.”

“Who named who?” Yuri asked teasingly, and arched a brow at the name choices. Yuuri laughed a little at the look, and shook his head.

“It's not what you think. Viktor picked Yuriko, and I picked Viktoria. We both agreed on Antonia.”

“Well, they're nice names,” Yuri offered—though privately he thought that they were a bit stuffy. Yuri shifted from foot to foot, and lifted his gaze to the doors of the little plane. According to Yuuri, just beyond those doors was his Beka. The one person who had kept him going these last months without even being there. His Beka, who endured worse torture than him—for him.

Yuri needed to see him.

“Go to him, Yuri,” a sudden deep voice said, and Yuri turned to see that Georgi had stepped up to him, and offered Yuri a small, warm smile. “Remember what I said, and brace yourself, but go with love.”

“Thank you, Georgi,” Yuri said softly, and smiled softly before he turned away from his friends—his family—and shifted his attention to the plane itself. He took a breath to steady himself, then hurried up the stairs and towards the plane door as fast as his legs would carry him.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

NLMG Masterpost

#otayuri #otayuri abo #otayuri fic #otayuri omegaverse

[weirdlandtv]

Behind the scenes of the making of: “Star Quest”

This post contains background information on the Star Quest video, which can be seen here on my YouTube channel, Tales from Weirdland:

It’s funny. As a kid, I wasn’t a big sci-fi fan. Or even a little sci-fi fan. There was Star Wars, sure--I loved Star Wars--but outside of that, nothing took my fancy. My brother, a real nerd, complete with jam jar glasses and an oversized digital watch that accurately showed all the moon phases, used to watch all the shows religiously: Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers, V, and so forth; but me, I played with dolls and wanted a doll’s house for Christmas (which I got, thank you). My main memory of the 1979 Buck Rogers TV show basically is this hideous villain that appeared in one of the episodes: there was something wrong with him, his skin looked like mutant muesli. Boiled cancer. It made me lose all appetite for like, years.

He’s wearing his mask there--this is to protect you, reader. (I took that image from a blog, John Kenneth Muir's Reflections on Cult Movies and Classic TV.) Google “Varek”, “Buck Rogers”, if you dare.

But anyway, the sci-fi genre wasn’t really for me.

And yet, I find that it’s exactly that, those old sci-fi shows and comics, that evoke some of the strongest childhood memories. Possibly because they promised an exciting future, somewhere in the background. Or maybe it’s like the songs you don’t really pay attention to: those get stuck in your head.

(A song gets stuck in your head when your brain is trying to finish it, to resolve it, but it can’t. To counter this, play the song in its entirety.)

That’s me, left, being my autumnal self in the early 1980s. My big brother is lost in a comic and unaware of reality.

Star Quest is an homage to this era of silver spacesuits, capes, medallions, bushy sideburns, tin foil antennas, robots made of gold-painted hard latex, and control panels that were really disguised mixing desks. I’ve always been intrigued by the technology from that period: those robust, bulky designs, built to withstand a bomb explosion apparently. 1970s telephones look like pre-school toys, with big buttons and thick, coated armor. The enemy ship in SQ is like that: it’s plated, heavy, a shark-shaped fortress:

Grand Vizier Rylox, captain of this evil ship, originally looked like the image above. His appearance resembled that of a Noh demon, but as much as I liked the design, it clashed with the 70s theme, so I abandoned it before I got to coloring the face. As I was redesigning the character, I wanted Rylox to look as if his face could be a rubber mask, or as if he was wearing prosthetics maybe. That’s why he has limited mouth movements in the video: it’s not bad lip syncing, it’s simply that the actor can’t move his facial muscles too well.

When Captain Logan is being addressed by Rylox via hologram, he just sternly stands there, listening. As Rylox himself wasn’t much to look at, with his small, black mouth, I had to vary the camera positions occasionally to prevent the video from losing its rhythm. That resulted in this tricky shot. I was very pleased with Captain Logan’s look actually: it’s a blend of Lorne Greene and a non-specific Filmation character (I was thinking of Journey to the Center of the Earth). To get the right 1970s feel for the video, I watched clips of all the relevant shows, but found that once you try to copy that style, you quickly venture towards caricature, parody, like that Starsky & Hutch film with Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson: it’s so SEVENTIES you actually forget it’s supposed to take place in the 1970s. A better approach is to just try to come up with a good design first, and then adjust it so that it fits within the fashion perimeters of that era. After all, in the 1970s, nobody looked or dressed like it was the 1970s.

That’s a fancy way of saying I more or less stole the outfits from the 1977 TV show, Space Academy.

The shark ship, before I forget, was originally supposed to be a city ship, a floating metropolis, housing thousands of people. (That’s inevitably in our future.) I thought it was a grand idea, until I discovered that a similar design features in Alien 2. So, exit city ship. The interior of the Starship Olympus was inspired, sort of, by E.T.’s ship.

Because I animate the old-fashioned way, by drawing everything on paper with pencil, I have to be economical when it comes to using paper. Hence these three heads crammed together on one sheet. The “Star Commander”, left, echoes 1970s Marvel comics: he doesn’t feature in the video itself but is simply there to suggest you’re watching a series. Also, he was the first character I started drawing when I set myself the task to go for a 1970s sci-fi theme.

The introductions were fun to do. Admiral Jericho is paired with Sola, in typical 1970s split-screen style. Again, these shots were intended to suggest you’re watching a running series instead of a brief one-off. I always think up small backstories for such glimpses, just for myself. Sola is being briefed by a Galruggian worker--”All cells have been replaced, lieutenant”--Jericho, in his lab, is testing out a new laser, making adjustments, taking notes.

Jim Booker and Captain Matt Logan. Matt, you say? Yes. My brother and I used to play with Lego Space when we were kids, and we had invented this show called Space Police. My main character in it was Jim Booker, my brother’s was Matt Logan, after, I suppose Matt Trakker (M.A.S.K.) and Wolverine. So my video is an homage to that too: that brief, golden flash that is your childhood.

Until next time!

#space #retro #scifi show #1970s #1970s sci-fi #1970s tv #1970s style #battlestar galactica #buck rogers #animation #concept art #youtube #scifi #1970s fashion #retro sci-fi #sci-fi show #sci-fi #old school animation

[timclymer]

How to Lose Weight Fast at Any Age

Now that I know how weight loss really works, I can lose it fairly quickly when I want to. However, it was not always that way. Sometimes it took me months to lose about one pound. That’s because I had no idea how fast weight loss really worked. For example, I thought that if I just went hungry, that would cause quick fat loss.

However, I did not know that caused my body to go into “survival mode” where it tried to hang on to as much body fat as possible. So yes, there are ways to lose weight quickly other than going hungry. However, many people go about them all wrong. First there is no such thing as a fast weight loss shortcut. You can try a bogus body wrap, sweat suit, etc, but with these all you loose is water weight.

You can also try to use other useless fast weight loss shortcuts like diet pills, herbs, teas, patches, lotions muscle contractors, etc.- but again, all that’s going to happen is you’re going to waste money and time- time you could be spending losing weight quickly the way it works in reality.

If your skeptical about weight loss shortcuts not working because all the advertising says they do work, just remember this: Nearly two out of three Americans are overweight or obese, while spending over 50 billion dollars annually on weight loss products. So if anything you could buy really made you lose weight fast, would this many people still be overweight?

So what are some fast way to lose weight?

You have to burn off that fat. Nothing else works. Meaning, you have to use more calories that you consume. The faster you burn them off, the faster you will lose weight. It really is that simple. Let me give you an example of super fast weight loss:

Several years ago there was aa cable documentary about a man that lost fourteen pounds in around twelve hours. How? He swam the English Channel. Since he did not eat while swimming, his body had no choice but to use fat stores for energy. Calories consumed as energy depends on the person and the activity. In his case, around 49,000 calories of energy were consumed from fat in twelve hours.

Now note I’m not saying you should try this. This guy was really good shape. As a matter of fact, he put those extra pounds on intentally, because he knew fat was going to be needed for energy. I’m just providing an example of how fast weight loss can work in the “real” world.

If you want to lose weight quickly, you can do something similar, just not so extreme. The first thing you need to do is change as many weight gain habits as possible over to weight loss habits. The more habits you change, the faster the weight will be burned off. If you do not have any interest in giving up double cheese supreme pizzas or going running instead of sitting on the sofa- then you’re wasting your time. You have to burn off as many calories as you can- while you reduce the calories that are coming in [without going overboard and throwing your body into survival mode].

So do not try to starve yourself and do not go on a special diet. [Dieting is just another useless pill that has been PROVEN not to work. Just eat more foods that fill you up with far fewer calories, like fruits and veggies. To lose weight as fast, easily, and safely as possible- you need to keep an eye on calorie density. This just means instead of filling up on Big Macs, you fill up on healthy natural fibrous foods like fruits and veggies, along with other natural foods that are low in carbs and high in protein like cold water fish, lean meats, eggs, etc.

Do not go overboard and cut out carbs, your body needs carbs for energy. However, it does NOT need the man made carbs that come in cake, candy, donuts, chips, sodas, energy drinks, etc. You are trying to burn fat for fuel. If you fill up on junk food, your body will NEVER tap into your fat stores for fuel.

So eat natural carbs, just keep an eye on them while you are in fast weight loss mode. Here’s my best how to lose weight fast [http://www.how-to-lose-weight-fast.org] tips:

Do not drink colas [even diet] sport drinks, or energy drinks. These are filled with carbs that keep you from tipping into your fat stores. Milk is also loaded with carbs in the form of lactose- a sugar. If you want to drop weight as quickly as possible, stick to water or tea [no coffee].

Eat your natural carbs early in the day. That way you have the entire day to burn them off.

Eat NO carbs after around 6 PM- especially the carbs in junk food- or bread and pasta.

Do some cardio before you go to bed, this way you burn off any left over carbs and do not store them as fat when your metabolism slows way down as you sleep.

Do at least a 20 minute cardio workout first thing in the morning on a empty stomach- or with a very small amount of protein, say 25 grams max. Then wait about an hour before you eat. If you can, do not sit down for that hour. Then eat nothing but protein- like eggs or lean meat- for breakfast. Do you see why this fast fat loss tip works so well? You wake up with no fuel in your system, so when you get active, your body has no choice but to burn fat for fuel.

If you want to make weight loss as fast as possible, let food do the work for you. Eat unprocessed foods and three or four natural snacks a day. When you go to have your main meals, eat bulky and fibrous foods first- like fruits and veggies. This way you get full before you eat too many calories- and the more calories you eat, the more you have to burn off.

Be careful and use your common sense. In my humble opinion, talk to your doctor first. Tell him / her what you have in mind. Your doctor knows your health history better than me, and will able to give you specific advise on how many calories you can safely cut back on- and how much physical activity you can tolerate without hurting yourself.

So yes, there are fast ways to lose weight. However diet products sold by the giant weight loss industry are not one of them. You have to burn off more calories than you consume- nothing else works.

If you read this and just thought “whoa- this sounds like a lot of work. I do not know if I can do all this” all I can tell you is this:

It’s all in the habits. The more weight gain habits you change over to weight loss habits, the faster you will lose weight.

Sure, I could tell you that I lost 30 pounds in thirty days by using Acai berry, hoodia, a patch, or a colon cleanse.

But that would be a lie.

Gaining control of your weight habits can change your entitlement life so much, that I’d rather die less than lie to you. Know why? Because I know that if you buy a fast weight loss shortcut, it will not work. Then you might give up on losing weight- permanently.

I do not want that to happen.

If you do not like what you just read, bookmark this page and come back when you’re ready. I promise seeing your habits as they are and changing them can transform your life and future in ways you can not begin to imagine.

There’s no secret lose weight really fast tips, it’s all the common sense things that I just told you about- that work in the real world.

It’s nothing you will not be able to learn too. Fast weight loss is just like trying to learn any new skill, like swimming. The slowest and most frustrating part in the very beginning. After that, it’s easy, and you have a skill that will serve you the rest of your life.

Source by Tracey J May

from Home Solutions Forev https://homesolutionsforev.com/how-to-lose-weight-fast-at-any-age/ via Home Solutions on WordPress from Home Solutions FOREV https://homesolutionsforev.tumblr.com/post/184207284170 via Tim Clymer on Wordpress

#Home Solutions FOREV

[goarticletec-blog]

You Can Pry My Air Fryer Out of My Cold, Greasy Hands

New Post has been published on https://www.articletec.com/you-can-pry-my-air-fryer-out-of-my-cold-greasy-hands/

You Can Pry My Air Fryer Out of My Cold, Greasy Hands

The air fryer, like some of the more superfluous appliances in my house, was a Black Friday purchase. It arrived on our doorstep on a chilly December evening, part of the parade of questionable decisions that my roommates and I had made on the internet: an egg boiler shaped like a hen, t-shirts I didn’t need. We put our new Philips Air Fryer Viva Turbo Star on the countertop, a bulky black box with two dials to set temperature and cook-time, and an outward-facing handle that, when unlatched from the body, reveals a wire fry basket that can hold nearly 2 pounds of food. The basket looks similar to one you might see dipped into a vat of hot oil at a burger joint, but with an air fryer—tosses glitter—you don’t need the calorie-laden oil to get that calorie-laden taste.

What a promise! It works like a supercharged convection oven. Load the fry basket, mist with oil, pop the basket into the fryer’s inner chamber, and turn the dial. Inside, the oil is circulated in hot air at high speed. For our first experiment with the air fryer, my roommate and I loaded a bag of pre-cooked, frozen tater tots. We poured them into the basket, turned the dial, and waited as the fan’s fryer emitted a loud, gravelly hum.

The experts will tell you an air fryer is not a worthwhile purchase. First of all, you don’t reap the health benefits if you throw in convenience foods. If you use foods that have already been cooked, like frozen tater tots, you’re essentially just re-heating (and adding more oil to) fatty foods. Even WIRED’s own reviewer, Joe Ray, advised against buying an air fryer. He tried air-fried baked potatoes, shrimp skewers, and a whole chicken—all to disappointing results. Better to enjoy true fried food occasionally, he wrote, before concluding: “The rare dose of perfection is far better than the constant drip of mediocrity.”

This is all true. But what makes air fryers so exhilarating has nothing to do with how they make fried food healthier and everything to do with how they make unhealthy food easier to get. In the months that followed the arrival of the air fryer, I experimented with air frying all manner of food with little to negative nutritional value. Got a hankering for chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs? Zap! Cheesy mashed potato pancakes? Fire up that air fryer! A few nights ago, my roommate had the idea to toss in chopped-up Spam. When she drew it out, the kitchen instantly smelled like childhood Saturday mornings when my dad cooked Spam fried rice.

Hunks of pork belly cooked in a saucepan and thrown into the air fryer taste like lechon kawali, the deep-fried Filipino pork belly that reminds me of Christmas at my grandma’s house.

In my entire adult life, I have never felt more extravagant than I have with my air fryer. Its tiny fry basket—deeply inefficient, given how much space the air fryer takes on the counter—is perfectly suited for single servings. When you can satisfy your snack lust in less time than it takes to preheat the oven, there’s no time to reconsider healthier options. Sure, you could zap your nuggets in the microwave just as effectively, but would they be as crispy on the edges, or as golden? Why would you stick to the healthier option anyway? When you think of the din of diet fads that shun indulgence, the air fryer’s inexplicably loud drone becomes a defiant roar of “I’ll eat whatever the hell I want, when I want!” as it churns out tater tots at my command.

Comfort food is popularly associated with this kind of fried, fatty fare—food not to sate your hunger, but your emotional needs. Herman Melville famously wrote, in Moby Dick, of a bowl of chowder on a frigid night: “[A] warm savory steam from the kitchen served to belie the apparently cheerless prospect before us. But when that smoking chowder came in, the mystery was delightfully explained… It was made of small juicy clams, scarcely bigger than hazel nuts, mixed with pounded ship biscuit, and salted pork cut up into little flakes; the whole enriched with butter, and plentifully seasoned with pepper and salt.”

“Comfort food is something that simulates the need for interaction,” says Jordan Troisi, a psychologist at Sewanee University of the South who has devoted his career to defining comfort food. The “comfort,” his research argues, comes not from a food’s nutritional value (or lack thereof) but from the associations the eater makes between food and relationships. Clam chowder tastes good, but it also gives solace to weary sailors. The most evocative comfort foods, Troisi says, are associated with family traditions and celebrations. Air fryers make it remarkably easy for an at-best-mediocre cook (that’s me) to make family recipes: Hunks of pork belly cooked in a saucepan and thrown into the air fryer taste like lechon kawali, the deep-fried Filipino pork belly that reminds me of Christmas at my grandma’s house.

I moved to San Francisco after college, into a landscape of restaurants where I can’t afford to eat. Home is an eight hour drive away, where eating out usually meant going to Arby’s after church. One day, overwhelmed and questioning my future, I bought a 28-ounce sack of Ore-Ida frozen curly fries to cook in the air fryer. In seven minutes, I had a plate of popping-hot curly fries. In five minutes, I lay curled on the couch, a little satisfied and a little ashamed, the sheen of grease on my fingers.

Do air-fried foods taste as good as their fat-bathed analogues? Certainly not. But they taste good enough, and more importantly, they’re there when I need them to be, when loved ones cannot be.

But the magical thing about something as emotionally evocative as comfort food is that you can always pave them over with new memories. One night, I invited my new San Francisco friends over and offered to zap up the rest of the curly fries. They stared in awe of how easily we could recreate our favorite junk food (faster than if I had made them in the oven!) and how much crispier they are than if they were microwaved. For the rest of the night we played board games and discreetly licked the salt from our fingers.

The air fryer does not make healthy food, at least not in my house. Even my health-conscious roommates have hardly made anything exceptionally “healthy” with it. What this too-big, too-loud, dubiously effective black box can do is make startlingly accessible the single most magical quality of food: its ability to elide distance, and, in a bite of Proustian teleportation, take you home.

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[advanceddegreesls17-blog]

The Fall is finally here!

Well, Friends, I promised a less nerdy post last time. I´ll do my best to keep my word. But I´m afraid I’ll have to make some nerdy comments in this entry as well.

The fall is finally here. And it is possible to see some very beautiful trees changing colors. The spectacle is not as stunning as it is in New England or further North, but it is still super pretty. I visited Berkeley last weekend so that I will be sharing some pictures with you of both Stanford and Berkeley in Fall colors.

The Fall in Stanford

The Fall in Berkeley

The sun is setting at 5 pm now, but it still rises early (around 7 am). The temperature is ok during the day (something like 18C or 60F), but it gets quite cold when there is no sunlight (around 5 C or 41 F). These last days have been quite rainy, and the weather is also very unpredictable. Even if smartphones predict no rain, sometimes it does rain (mostly mere annoying showers). Under the rain, the 5-7-minute bike ride to the law school from Escondido Village is quite a challenge.

We are approaching the Thanksgiving break (next week). Most people will leave campus to have some time off. However, it is already possible to feel the stress, because finals are approaching. In a previous entry, I mentioned the library was small, but there was enough space for studying there. Well, I may take that back. Now that more people are feeling the stress of the finals, the library gets quite packed, especially after dinner. Some people get there very early and save their place leaving their belongings in a carrel or a chair. I don’t feel very comfortable in busy spaces, so I prefer to study at home. Most rooms (at the dorms) have desks, and the internet usually works well. However, a downside of living in Escondido Village is the construction that is taking place. Stanford is building new housing facilities, and the works are bulky and noisy (also, the rooms get very dusty as a consequence of the construction). So, if you are coming here next year, you may do well at considering this when you apply for housing. (I will give you more info about housing in a future post). You can see my current view from my room below (it’s a rainy day).

Now that classes are almost over for the fall term (remember that Stanford follows the quarter system) I would like to share with you a couple of academic comments. First, the quarter flies extremely fast. Quarters are very intensive, and if you get lost at some point, it is hard to catch up. I am not so sure if a quarter is enough time to cover the topics or a regular term. I tend to think that several classes tend to be somewhat introductory due to time constraints. Second, the professors at SLS are usually very approachable. Since Stanford is a small law school, most professors learn your name, and many of them invite you to have lunch (or similar extra-curricular activities, to get to know you a little bit). This is very encouraging. Also, professors are super professional. If you visit them during office hours, they will listen carefully to your concerns and will do their best to help you. Either if you have questions about the syllabus, or would like to receive recommendations about literature, or even about life in California! They will help. Most of the professors I’ve met recommended me places to visit during the academic year, and I didn’t even ask! Of course, they switched to more mundane topics after answering my academic questions!