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poptod · 3 years ago

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Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr robot #rami malek

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caramelcal · 4 years ago

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Songwriting and Fake Dating {2}

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: hello guys! hope you’re having a good day/night so far, thanks for reading my work I really appreciate it. I appreciate every note, comment, repost, request that everyone sends in and I’m so glad that you guys enjoy my silly little pieces of writing lol...

However, I can’t take full credit for this so thank you so much to the kind people that sent me plot ideas, lots of lovee x

THIS WILL HAVE MORE PARTS!!!

Also, how would you guys feel about me making a base Luke Patterson tag? Just an idea though! (sorry for the long a/n)

Tags:

@gia-kerks @phantompogues @thesweetestsinner @honeyheartzz

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s account) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

part 1 masterlist next

The deal worked well. Luke kept his promise saying that he would keep everyone off your back, seeing you walk in with Luke Patterson kept guys pretty far away from you. It was like they knew that they shouldn’t mess with you, not only because you guys were together but because of how powerful you were both viewed as was insane. You guys were the school’s new power couple. That felt amazing.

Yet, as amazing as it felt it was still strange; the fact that the power couple wasn’t even really dating, and that you guys didn’t even like or talk to each other in the beginning.

Slowly but surely though, you got to know Luke. You knew there was always a little more to him than met the eye but after three weeks of you guys interacting with each other on a personal basis, you guys got extremely close. Too close for some people’s liking.

Of course, Luke wasn’t the only one that upheld his end of the bargain, you did too. Often, you found yourself thinking about new lyrics in school, jotting down scribbles in the corners of your textbooks and notes. Luke was right when he said you were an amazing songwriter. The rest of Luke’s band, Julie and the Phantoms, had been apprehensive when he got help from you to write songs, but after seeing something you wrote for them they were convinced of your talent and were very eager to have you write more songs for them.

Actually, most people were glad you were writing songs again. But no her, not Carrie. In fact, she was furious that you were writing songs for them, despite knowing of the deal. Instead of encouraging you and praising you for finally getting into writing songs properly and utilizing your talents, she argued with you for ‘helping the rival band’ and saying that you ‘didn’t care about Dirty Candy’. She knew that wasn’t true but the fact she still said it hurt you.

Yet, even though you and your best friend’s relationship was slightly fractured at the moment, you still arrived at her house for practice. New choreography had been introduced that you had to learn, and you heard from another Dirty Candy member, Kayla, that it was super confusing.

Naturally, you ended up at Carrie’s on Tuesday evening, ready for a night full of dancing, learning confusing choreography, and laughing with the other girls. You had been Carrie’s best friend long enough to know just to walk into her house without knocking, knowing that Trevor and Emily weren’t home, Luke would be up in his room, and Carrie too far away in the studio to hear you knock.

Treading through the house, on your way to go the studio you have your bag slung over your shoulder, subconsciously humming a song. That was until you hear someone call from behind you, “Y/n?”

Turning around, you see Luke there and give him a smile and a wave. He walks up closer to you, jumping down the stairs and landing just in front of you, rocking back on his heels. A smile lights upon his face as he opens his mouth, starting to speak, “I was messing around with the melody a little for this song you wrote, if you quickly came to my room I could show you on my guitar.”

Luke points in the direction that he came from, taking a step backward as you look at him unsure. He holds a hand out to you with a small cheeky smile, almost as if he knows that you’re itching to hear it. You quickly glance back in the direction of the studio before giving in, “Fine, fine, but be quick. I have choreography practice for Dirty Candy I can’t miss.”

Luke gives you a beaming smile as you place your hand in his, which he grasps before pulling you along the hallway, not leaving you too long to dwell on the studio session.

One second you’re just entering Luke’s room, letting him play you the chords on his guitar and giving him a few pointers, seconds later you guys are working on tweaking lyrics and you hear the girl’s chatter from downstairs. Wide eyes meeting Luke’s you realize that the girls are leaving.

Eyes glance over to Luke’s alarm clock and you realize it hasn’t just been a few minutes, it’s been two hours. Two hours of vital practice for Dirty Candy that you blew off for Luke, again. Carrie was not going to be happy if she found out.

However, luck doesn’t seem to be on your or Luke’s side as you hear a knocking sound from Luke’s bedroom door, “Luke?”

It’s Carrie. Eyes darting towards each other, Luke indicates for you to hide, helping you crouch down out of sight. You’re behind Luke’s bed, too scared to even peek over the comforter to stare at Luke’s bedroom door as Luke tells Carrie to come in.

When Carrie comes in, Luke’s bedroom is tidier than normal, fewer clothes splayed on the floor, but bedsheets still ruffled and a wide array of objects splayed on his desk and shelves, along with his bed. When she speaks to Luke, she walks closer to the bed, voice quiet.

“y/n didn’t show up for practice again,” You cringed at that, knowing that you were guilty of getting caught up in writing songs with Luke. However, you had never got caught up writing songs in Carrie’s house, this was a new low for you, “I just wondered if you had heard from her.”

Guilt bubbles in your stomach when you realize that Carrie sounds worried for you. She should be, you hadn’t checked your phone for two hours and the last time you texted her you said that you were on your way over. She expected better from you than to blow her off for her brother, and you should have too.

“No,” Luke dismisses, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shares a tight-lipped smile with his sister, who stares at him strangely.

“Okay...Wait,” Carrie starts to sigh but stops talking, allowing you to hear her feet come further into the room, her eyes catch onto something, “Is that...y/n’s? IS Y/N HERE WITH YOU?”

At the sound of her louder voice, you cringe physically. You can hear the utter betrayal and anger in her voice when she thinks you’re here. You knew that if she found out she would be livid but this sounded worse than you imagined. Much worse. Before you put Luke in an awkward position and make him lie to his sister, you stood up, eyes squinting slightly as you stared at the livid version of your best friend.

Her fists clench at her sides and she puffs her chest out as she looks at you, eyes widening slightly. Nothing is said as Luke looks awkwardly between the two of you. You open your mouth, looking at Carrie before hesitantly speaking, “Carrie, listen-”

However, Carrie wasn’t up for your excuses, storming out of the room. Without even looking over at the boy who stayed on his bed, you rushed out after your best friend, “Carrie, please!”

Grabbing onto her shoulder, you manage to get Carrie to stop walking away from you but instead, she whirls around angrily, eyes widened even further as she rejects your touch. She points a finger towards you and takes a menacing step forward, causing you to step backward, “You know what y/n? I was annoyed when you started writing for our rival band but now you’re blowing off practice to help them?”

Unable to speak, you simply watch carry with your lips slightly apart. You had seen Carrie mad before, but you had never had it directed at you. Her arms retreat from pointing threateningly at you and instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, scoffing at you, “It’s clear to see where your priorities lie. That’s it, you’re done. You’re no longer welcome in Dirty Candy.”

“Carrie please-” You begin to speak, almost pleadingly but she puts a hand in front of her, her palm facing you, like a sign to stop you from talking.

“I don’t even want to hear it,” She spits out, giving you a distasteful look, “get out of my house. You’re no longer welcome here.”

. . .

You walk with your head ducked when you’re in school the next day, books hugged to your chest. People don’t stare at you like they usually do, because neither Carrie nor Luke was by your side. Not only a sad reminder of what happened yesterday, but of the fact that you were nothing without your best friend. Everything with Luke was fake, Carrie was supposed to be your best friend.

How could you let her down like that?

How could you get caught up in a boy? Right from the beginning you and Carrie had a deal, that you would never let a boy get between the two of you, that you would never prioritize someone else over each other. You broke that, with her stepbrother of all people. You had two deals, one with Carrie and one with Luke, and you knew you had to pick between the two of them.

The only plan of action you could think to get back into Dirty Candy and back to being Carrie’s friend was that you apologized and begged to be in her band again, dropped Luke and hope that she took some sort of pity on your soul.

“Hey! Y/n!” You spun around, eyes looking up to catch onto the hazel eyes that jogged over to you, a book in his hand. He landed right in front of you, giving you a small smile as he indicated to the book in his hands, “You left this in my room yesterday...”

Your eyes glanced down to the notebook in his hand, the one that you were writing songs in, and a bitter taste fills your mouth. Yet another reminder of last night, and all of the mistakes you made. Shaking your head lightly, you took the notebook from the boy without a word.

“I know it’s probably best you don’t see Carrie right now, so how about you come over to Julie’s garage tonight?”

Looking up at him with saddened eyes, you shook your head as you muttered, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean, y/n?” Luke asked breathily, eyebrows furrowing as he rocked on his heels. People bustled about the corridors but paid no mind to your conversation, too wrapped up in their own business but all of Luke’s attention was on you.

“This,” You repeated, using your hand to gesture between the two of you. You saw as his eyes fell to your hand, eyebrows raising slightly, “We can’t. Not anymore.”

He leaned closer to you, almost ensuring no one overheard you as he spoke lowly into your ear, “It’s part of the deal, y/n.”

“A deal we never should’ve made,” You started, holding your hand out to Luke’s chest so he couldn’t advance on you.

As you started up into Luke’s eyes, you frowned a little. Luke was a good person, and you guys bonded so well, not only over music, but tv shows, movies, common interests.. You guys just clicked. The past few weeks had been great, but you couldn’t put your best friend on the back burner just because of a few happy days.

“I got kicked out of Dirty Candy for our little deal,” You snapped bitterly, shaking your head wildly. Luke’s eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in shock as he stared down at you, “I lost my best friend. I’m sorry Luke but Carrie comes first. Over everything, especially our stupid little deal.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Luke in the distance. You didn’t even turn back to look at him...

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #luke patterson #luke julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms luke #julie and the phantoms x reader #luke jatp #luke patterson x y/n

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago

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Little Things

Draco X Reader

Request: @deanwswinchester79 But I thought of an idea that maybe the readers parents never write to her while she’s at Hogwarts, Draco notices and eventually gets her a simple gift so she doesn’t feel so lonely. She doesn’t react quite so well but over time it started to become a little tradition of theirs because they’ve come to like each other.

A/n: Thank you for such a wonderful request!! Sorry this took so long, I had most of it written with no idea how to end it, but I figured that out! think I’m gonna make the reader a Slytherin just for the proximity and convenience. Let me know what y’all think as always~ (Also it seems that my posts haven’t been circulating in the explore page... so more than ever, please if y’all love my work reblog it. Tumblr sucks and I’d hate to have to leave...)

Being pure bloods and Slytherin, it’s not uncommon that you and Draco are near each other a lot, even before Hogwarts.

Unlike his own parents who would give him anything at the mere mention, your parents never batted an eyelash at you

They spent their wealth on themselves and expected you to sit still and look pretty. The perfect compliant child.

Sure you had everything you needed, and asked for... but you had to bluntly ask for it... there was never anything thoughtful or decent

So, you never get letters from your parents while you’re at Hogwarts

Or gifts, or packages... you write letters and send them off, but never get a response. You don’t even know if your parents get them.

So... maybe it’s a few years before Draco notices and cares.

It’s only because he happened to be sitting next to you one morning as mail came in, a flurry of owls, letters and parcels. And you don’t even bother to look up. Your eyes are trained on your breakfast, your face stoic

“Here,” Draco shoves a covered tin of treacle tarts your way. “My parents sent me these. I don’t even like them,” he scoffs, trying to play off what he’s doing.

You eye him, in disbelief and stand abruptly. “Be grateful they send you things,” you snarl and storm out of the Hall, spending the rest of the day in your room, writing a letter you never send.

Maybe after writing the letter you never send about how you feel makes you realize you were a bit rude to Draco

So you apologize when you see him next.

It’s later that night when you two are the only third years left in the Common Room. Maybe you were a bit of a coward and waited until he was alone

He reaches into his bag and offers you the same tin. “I meant it. I really don’t like sweets,”

You can’t help but laugh as you accept his small gift.

Sitting beside him on the couch, you stare at the tin in your hands.

“You can eat them,” he teased. “They’re not poisoned.” He says it so earnestly, you laugh again.

You mumble another thanks before you stand abruptly and head back to your room, leaving Draco a bit confused. He shrugs and goes back to his potions homework.

“Mother, Draco gave me some treacle tarts today. They’re from his parents. I think he noticed that you never write back. Of course it’s been three years. But at least someone noticed. If that’s what this was...”

It’s a few days later during breakfast that you get a letter. You’re shocked because it’s the first time it’s ever happened and your owl is fluttering happily on your shoulder.

It’s not signed, and you have no idea who it’s from, but it holds kind words and encouragement. It’s such delicate and immaculate script, you’ve got no idea where to start looking for the author.

So maybe you don’t. But you keep the letter and write a response. Again, it’s never sent, but it makes you smile and not feel depressed afterwards. Which is new.

Draco would never forget the innocent smile on your face as you opened the letter he had sent anonymously. You didn’t seem to notice his stare, so entraputed in the bit of parchment.

He sent you a letter maybe a few times a months. It was the most mundane things. How he liked the weather. His worries for the next exam. How you handled yourself well in Transfiguration.

He never knew you reponded to each one. And kept those letters in a fabric box under your bed. Or how every night when you were feeling depressed you’d take them out and read them. And that they made you feel better.

You knew your secret author went to school with you, and was in close proximity but that was about all you knew. Sometimes you wondered who it was writing to you. Sometimes you were just content with having a letter to hold.

“I don’t really know who you are, but I’d like to know I think. At least to thank you for making me happy, even for a short while with your letters,”

You leave that letter on your desk, not thinking to tuck it back into its box. Which is your first mistake

Your owl, seeing the letter on your desk, delivers it, knowing who your secret author is.

Draco grips the letter so tightly that the paper almost tears. Your owl preens herself on his sill. “You know,” he accuses. “Did you tell her?” Like he expects a response from the bird.

It’s Christmas, and your mystery writer sends you a parcel this time with a note: “haven’t you figured it out?” In the parcel is a tin of treacle tarts.

You freeze before your gaze turns to Draco, who’s watching you intently.

You run through a lot of emotions. Anger, confusion, gratitude, hesitation, joy... it’s all so overwhelming that tears sting your eyes and you practically run from the Great Hall, leaning against a random hallway wall and start to cry at the absolute ridiculousness of it all

Draco Malfoy was sending you letters

Really sweet letters that were thoughtful and kind and honest and nothing like you’d ever seen from him before

The there was the tin of sweets sitting in your lap. Looking at them made you cry all over again

Draco, on the other hand is very confused and rushes after you against his better judgment.

“Look I’m sorry if—” he starts but you cut him off by laughing.

“Merlin, don’t apologize,” you sniffle, standing. “Thank you,” you throw your arms around him, and pull him close, showing your gratitude. He eventually figures out that it’s a hug and hugs you back.

“You really don’t mind?” He asked, hesitant. “Because I... I know it’s stupid. But you never get anything and I know what it like to be ignored by your parents and I just thought—”

“Draco,” you call his attention, finding it sweet that he rambles when he’s nervous. “I don’t mind in the slightest. And it’s not stupid. It’s the kindest thing anyone has done for me,”

Draco fidgets and blushes slightly, looking at the ground.

“I will admit, I’m surprised it’s you,” you mused softly, catching Dracos attention and the hurt on his face. “Only because you’re... I don’t know.” You smile and shrug. “I feel like no one knows that—this part of you,”

“And what part of me is that?” He scoffs, trying to play it off.

“The sweet caring one,” you smile. “Who doesn’t mind sharing his sweets with a girl even though she knows he’s the first to eat dessert every meal,” you raise an eyebrow at him.

Draco goes a deeper shade of red because you’ve caught him in his lie. He starts to apologize again, but you stop him

Later that night you look at all of the letters he wrote you and that you wrote back. And the night before Christmas when everyone else was asleep, you spent the entire night working the letters into a book with magic

You give it to Draco Christmas morning, and though it’s lost in the pile of gifts from his parents, you’re happy (even if your parents didn’t bother to send you anything. You had a few gifts from your friends and you were okay with that)

Draco doesn’t pay much mind to the book until later that night, when he’s alone and can go through it in private. He’s surprised to see that you answered every letter you’ve written him. And he’s sort of in awe. He never knew that they meant that much to you

He thinks of you and your smile and how you’ve poured your heart out into these letters the same way he has and he never thought anyone would open up to him like that

Slytherins had a reputation to uphold—you both knew that, so the fact that both of you had this little secret made things a bit better

You see each other the next day and he thanks you for the gift and it’s a bit awkward, but in a nice way

Draco still sends you letters but now he signs them and they get a bit ridiculous that they make you laugh

“Did you see how Snape tripped over his robes today?” “You’ll never guess what Blaise did today...” “Greg actually asked me if the sky was blue because it’s not blue at night,”

They’re so endearing and making you giggle to yourself. You always catch Draco’s eye from across the hall and he raises an eyebrow at you, daring you to say something

Your friends of course want to know who’s making you laugh with their letters and you try so hard to not let your secret slip because you don’t think Draco would want anyone to know

And you’re afraid if others do know, he’ll stop writing to you. Letting his pride and ego get the better of him.

Draco wonders if you’re embarrassed to be talking to him so he never reveals your secret either but your both a bit frustrated at the other because of this dance you’re going through

He still writes to you over the summer and they’re more diary entries than they are letters but you still love them and respond when you can your parents might get suspicious and you don’t want to lose your penpal

You totally sneak into his families box during the Quidditch World Cup and your parents didn’t notice because they never do and you have the best time with Draco, both rooting for different teams

“You just like them because of Krum,” Draco accuses.

“Do not!” You argue back. “And besides he’s a great player anyway!”

Draco grumbles “I could do better,” and you have to laugh at him and he smiles at you

He grabs your hand and you both run as the Dark Mark is sent out over the match and Draco pulls you out of the chaos to where it was safe and you wait out the attack. He holds you protectively as you shake with fear against your will

Neither of you mention it. But at night you remember the feel of his arms and he remembers your warmth as you both curl around pillows wishing it was the other

Fourth year means the Durmstang students are rooming with the Slytherins and you get to share some of your classes with Krum and you might just explode with awe

Draco is jealous and hell hath no fury

Now Draco starts to send you ridiculous little gifts and notes almost weekly

Your friends (and most of the school) are now interested in this secret admirer of yours and you huff and you’re more annoyed at Draco than anything because he was being well, ridiculous

You grab Draco one day and confront him because he just sent you a bouquet of sunflowers

“What the hell?” You demand. “You said you liked sunflowers in Herbology,” Draco shrugged. You growl and storm away.

Now he’s sending you notes in class when you’re with Victor who doesn’t even sit next to you

At that point the secret is out on who your secret admirer is and now Victor won’t even talk to you because of Draco’s behavior.

You’re livid to say the least.

You stop talking to Draco altogether and become indifferent. You almost tell him to stop sending you things because you don’t want them, but you don’t.

It’s not that you don’t want the gifts and the kind gestures you just know it’s coming from the wrong place and it doesn’t sit right with you.

“What is wrong with you?” Draco demands one day.

“Wrong with me!?” You snap back. “What is wrong with you!? Seriously Draco! I’m not some shiny toy you can show off!! I’m not something you can claim either! So stop trying!”

“Who said that I was—”

You give him a sharp dangerous look and he shuts up.

You storm away again, tears in your eyes because it’s not how you wanted things to go.

It felt like you were walking away from your best friend and you knew you couldn’t fix it. And maybe that’s what it was like.

You almost run into Krum and fall down, but he catches you. Concern grows when he sees you crying. His concern for you just makes you cry more as your run back to your dorm room, not caring about the whispers around you as you lock your door and sob.

There’s a knock on your door and you have a good idea of who it is, but you don’t really want to talk to him right now

And Draco knows that. Sure, it took you to confront him about what he was doing, but you were right, you weren’t some toy to fight over

He sat against the other side of the door, mimicking your curled up position

“...I’m sorry,” You hear through the door. “You’re right. I... you’re not... I’m sorry...”

When you finally have the courage to open the door, he’s gone

You close the door again and flop on your bed, screaming into a pillow

You may or may not fall asleep there...

in the morning there’s a letter sitting on your window sill

Knowing who it’s from, you curl up in your covers with the letter and open it

Draco had spent about two hours thinking of how to make things right again, to prove how sorry he was... and so he poured out his entire heart to you in a letter

it was messy, scratched out, sappy, and heart felt, and apologetic and vulnerable and a beautiful mess that you couldn’t help but read again, and again, and again until you let a few tears slip out

You quickly get dressed for the day and rush into the Great Hall, seeing Draco sulking at the breakfast table, until he sees you, then his eyes go wide with panic and fear

It takes everything in you to remain composed and not run down the line of tables, but you manage

He stands to meet you and you smile, grabbing his robe and pulling him close, pressing your lips to his

“But... I... and you...” Draco fumbles, pulling away.

“I might not want to be owned,” You grin, pulling out his letter, “But I’ll belong to this Draco any day,”

“Deal,” He grins, and cups your face, kissing you again

masterlist

more like this:

muggleborn!slytherin

patronus cliche

@coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-johnston @jiggllyy @darcypotter-blog @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @dragonsandbread @the-queen-of-hell-things @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy@naughtygranger @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @echpr @dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @rosie-starlit-sky @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural @ghostofdolans @mxl-foyrecs @ginger-haired-queen @bex4whovian @kellyrose193 @unlikelygalaxygiver @marvel-trash-was-taken @one-edgy-bitch @supersouthy @garbagejay @rejectedlonelyasianchild @lucymxwell@coldlilheart @elia-the-bibliophile @biggalaxydreamland @fuckbuckyyy @hopem1218 @youareinllve @tyrusparker @3rdofkingdomtrees @whamitsqueen @i-mmunity @zero-nightshade @graym01 @fandomtrash88 @snakey-drakey @ceeellewrites @thatguppienamedbae @pinkleopardss @angel-blogging @xhoney-bee-x @jovialthings @samanthahaigwood @minigigglybabi @clumsy-writing-rdb @lahoete @yourenotafailureoverall @m-winchester-67 @shiningstar-byulxx @clumsy-writing-rdb @dracosathenaeum @dracofeltonmalfoy @harryslouis @iilovemusic12us @itsbebeyyy @dumspirospero-1 @kaye-lantern @stardewsnail @anerroroccurrrrred @franbow29 @big-galaxy-chaos @itsbebeyyy @gryffindors-weasley @ornella0910 @ultrabuzzlightyear @phantomface1983 @emmalee12 @kuyrukludenizkizi

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philosopherking1887 · 3 years ago

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Writer tag game

Thanks for tagging me, @ectogeo-rebubbles... 4, days ago, sorry; my parents are visiting and I haven’t had much time to myself.

How many works do you have on AO3?

(Why is the number so big when I post? @sapphosewrites said the same thing, so I know it’s not just me...)

What's your total AO3 word count?

515,575

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Mostly Zuko-centric ATLA fics because a couple were inspired by a BNA whom I tagged in the Tumblr post, then she reblogged and lots of people saw them.

Between the Salt Water and the Sea Strand

To Give Birth to a Dancing Star (didn’t get very far on that one, oops)

The Last Argument

Zeno’s Paradox (the only non-ATLA fic on this list; I posted it very shortly after Thor: Ragnarok came out, before I realized how terrible it was)

Shame and Necessity

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, almost always (unless someone said something weird, or one person left a bunch of identical short comments on different chapters of the same fic; it seems a bit silly to respond to every “<3″ with “Thanks!”). I respond to encourage people to keep commenting, by assuring them that I’m reading comments, I pay attention to their content, and I appreciate them. I especially like it when people comment on specific themes in the fic or how it relates to some aspect of canon, so that it starts an analytical conversation about the story and the characters -- which is what a lot of us are here for.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I’m gonna say The Third Time, because Loki actually permanently dies.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Starting Over, I guess? That’s the hopeful ending of my Thorki series, taking place before some hypothetical version of the Infinity War storyline in which neither of our principal characters dies (because fuck the actual movies, and fuck Ragnarok too, while we’re at it). But there are other fics, sometimes intermediate in one of my series, that have hopeful rather than downbeat endings, even if more complications arise later. The Ninth Deadly Sin is a rare standalone fic with a happy ending (which I’d forgotten about until I went looking through my Works page for happy endings). Prince of Darkness also has a fairly happy ending that involves solving climate change with Frost Giants...

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

No, at least not yet. I have nothing against them in principle, and sometimes enjoy reading them, but since the target audience is the intersection of two (or more) fandoms, it’s necessarily going to be smaller than either fandom on its own.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really related to the fic. I did get a random nasty comment on a Garashir fic about a fan letter I wrote to Tom Hiddleston (and handed to his manager-person after seeing Betrayal in London) and then posted on Tumblr. Just someone being an asshole.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do indeed! I write very chatty smut, with a lot of feelings, often angsty, and sometimes awkward, because sex can be awkward, especially if one or more of the participants is inexperienced (at least with bodies like their partner’s).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes -- someone translated No Exit into French as Aucune sortie (though actually, the French title of the Sartre play that I named the fic after is Huis clos).

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I’m inevitably going to answer that kind of question with my current favorite ship, which is Garashir... but that might actually be my all-time favorite ship because the fandom is a lot more welcoming and chill than others I’ve been in before.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hoo boy. All the people I’ve seen doing this tag game previously have said they don’t have any; I have 5 partially posted WIPs in old fandoms that I doubt I’ll pick up again. I think I’ve tagged most of them as “on hiatus” and warned readers in author’s notes that I probably won’t finish... Do I want to finish them? In theory, yes; in practice, no.

What are your writing strengths?

I’ve most often received compliments on my dialogue, which I also find the easiest thing to write; my favorite version of this compliment is when people say that they can hear the dialogue in the actors’/characters’ voices. Some people enjoy the philosophical discussions that I can’t help inserting into my fics...

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plots. Thing happening. I cannot come up with plots. All of my fics are just people talking and having thoughts and feelings about things.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Ask yourself: what does it add to have the dialogue in the language it’s supposed to be in rather than translated? If the POV character speaks the language, would it be sufficient to note that they’ve switched to a different language, or put it in italics or something to indicate that? If the POV character doesn’t speak the language, would it make more sense to just say that other characters have spoken an unintelligible string in another language, or that they just caught a few words, or whatever? That’s not to say that there’s never a good reason to include the actual language; if the actual words are important, or if it matters that the POV character doesn’t switch effortlessly between languages, or if it just adds some richness of texture that you’re going for, it can make sense.

If it’s a real language that you’re not fluent in, do ask someone who is to check your grammar.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, of course; I am that age, after all. I wrote fics about Tom Riddle and/or Voldemort when I was in middle school in 2001-2. I’ve always been interested in the villain’s perspective.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

At the moment, Had we but world enough, and time. It stayed reasonably self-contained while also covering the issues I wanted it to cover, with some smut thrown in. Maybe my best fic is actually an older one, but my favorite is always in my current fandom, because that’s what I’m excited about... and I’d like to think my writing has been improving with practice.

Tagging: @delicatetrashstranger, @vermin-disciple, @hex-o, @judiops, @the-last-dillpickle... and @illwynd and @incredifishface (since I actually ended up talking about my Loki and Thorki fics in this one).

#fic writer tag game #my fanfiction

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greatcheesiness · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak

Pairing: Ex-Husband!Atsumu x reader

Genre: Angst, sad

Words: 1.3k (pretty short)

Warnings: NSF- nah i’m just kidding xd, mentions of death

Completed: 20/10/2020 01:56

A/n: Umm, this is my first story on tumblr. So bear with me if it’s bad. I’ll try my best to improve in the future. Needed to vent so I wrote this for my favorite character Atsumu (that many seem to dislike 0.0) I hope you enjoy the story tho! It’s a bit short and it’s like almost two in the morning. I wish I could go into more detail on Miya’s perspective *smiles cheerfully*

~_~

Your eyes fluttered opened and the constant beep of the heart monitor continued. You lifted your trembling arms to your face. The crustiness from excess mucus, dried tears and exfoliated skin were irritating your vision. You blinked a couple of times to feel the comfort of opening your eyes again.

Suddenly, a light knock was heard before someone gained entry into your bleached scent room. It was a young nurse who took care of you for the past couple of months. Such a delightful lady taking her job as if it came natural to her. “Good morning Mrs Miya. How are you feeling today?” she asked as she pushed a tray filled with medications and medical equipment. We’re doing this again aren’t we?

“I woke up just now so I don’t know how I’m feeling right now…”.The nurse’s eyes softened at your response. Silence set between the both of you verbally and only the sound of the nurse handling little boxes of pills was heard. Your orbs lingered at the lady. She faced you and ambled towards you with a cup of water in hand as well two pills.

“It’s time to take your medication Mrs Miya” she smiled caringly. You sighed as you received them. You popped the pills into your mouth and drank the cup of water. She waited patiently. After you finished, both of ye did a few things after. It was the same old thing scheduled almost every day. A typical day of an old woman with a heart disease.

Now you were left alone in your box-shaped room. There was no presence besides yourself. You felt so isolated and no doubt, an emotion of loneliness lingered in the chambers of your heart. That didn’t help your heart condition you admit. You exhaled. You could still taste the remaining of the med. Tasted bitter as the bitter life you had. You could endure it. No problem.

People say, if you go to the hospital, you’ll get better and better as days pass by. If only it could apply the same to you. You weren’t getting better. You just felt constant. Even worse, you felt as if your chances of living were decreasing as each day passed. You smirked. The wrinkles formed around your eyes and lips. After all, you’re just a test subject. You only realized that what the nurse gave was a placebo.

Suddenly, you started to cough. Your weak bony arms stabilized your upper body as you kept expelling sudden air from your weak lungs. Your eyes were closed shut and little tears threatened to spill out. “It hurts. It hurts a lot…” you managed to mutter. You clenched your hands and lightly tapped the left side of your chest. It seemed like you were trying to reassure his heart. His heart…

You gripped onto your cyan hospital shirt, scrunching the material. You tried your best to live the healthiest life and you did, to some extent. You took care of your heart as if it was your most prized possession. Of course. Without it, you wouldn’t be living… But this heart you have belongs to him. Atsumu’s…

You could feel a striking pain at your source of life. Was he also hurting just as much as you? Salty essence dropped onto the knitted blanket. You quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the night stand and dowsed your dry itchy throat to moisture. Your red swollen eyes stared at your left.

I’m so sorry

Atsumu

You cried as your twenty five year old self sat on the hospital bed. You didn’t want to die. You were too scared of death. You didn’t want to die this early. You have so much to experience in life. You just got married…

Someone held your hand for support as you sobbed for ages. His hands felt warm and that provided a small bit of comfort. He tightened his grip. He gently wiped the tears off of your puffy under eye. You sniffed due to congestion from endless crying.

Finally, you calmed down. You couldn’t create anymore. Atsumu brushed the hairs away to get a clear look at your face. He stared into your eyes. You did the same to him, not realizing you made a pout with your lips. His hazel eyes were bottomless and soulful. His eyes tells a lot of stories and just by gazing into them, you know what he’s thinking.

He’s telling you that it’s alright. You will live. Promise.

After a minute of not saying anything, he leaned and gave you a deep kiss. As cliche as it sounds, you melted into his. You almost forgot about your mental breakdown you had just a minute ago. He needed you to let go of that sadness. Don’t be like that when he’s here. He wants to make you happy. Cheer you up.

His lips left yours and he rested his forehead onto yours. Both of ye didn’t care of the sweat that formed. Your throbbing heart subsided. All thanks to him.

Every day after practicing with division 1 team, he would visit you. The two of ye would have talks about whatever that sparks your attention. He was the epitome of delectation and happiness for you. You guessed happiness was the only medication that worked wonders for you. All thanks to Atsumu…

Until one day.

He came in to your room as usual. You closed the book in your hand as all your focus was on him. A smile etched on your face. But then, your smile faded. “Atsumu… Is something wrong??” you asked. You were worried. Why was he wearing that kind of face? Did came in contact with the doctor? If he did, what did the doctor say?

At last, his eyes landed on you. You continued to look at him for an answer. He smiled softly at you and said “Someone’s willing to give you a heart”

Your eyes widened. You were happy for at least sixteen seconds until the seventeen second began. Atsumu handed you a letter. You were to read it after the surgery. Your brows scrunched.

Why did you feel like you were going to regret this?

Little did you know, the regret burned you slowly like flowing lava once you woke up with stitches on the left side of your chest and no Atsumu by your side anymore.

Time really went by. Thirty years had passed until this present moment. You felt cold and shivers ran up your protruding spine. It was night time already. You gently laid your back on the hard pillow provided by the nurse. A white celestial being imprinted on the night sky.

“The moon looks beautiful, Atsumu” You said huskily. It was meant to be said indirectly. There was no response. Of course there wouldn’t. He’s dead.

You let the tranquility calm you down as you shut your eyes. You were no longer scared of death. You had everything ticked off your bucket list. But you haven’t fulfilled some. Especially when they included your deceased husband.

While your eyes were closed, you could imagine him waiting for you in the afterlife. You began to feel numb and your heart rate was decreasing. You grinned as you see him in his MSBY jersey and shorts with a volleyball in his hands. Finally, you could see him clearly.

“I can’t wait to be with you again…”

You felt yourself being reversed in time for youth. You were young again. Your legs dragged you towards him in a rush. Your soul left your body.

This time you died. You took care of his heart for thirty years. He was always with you without you even noticing. He gave you his heart because he couldn’t live without you. But now that didn’t matter. Both of you are together again.

This time in a different world where there’s no heartbreaks...

#atsumu x you #atsumu scenarios #atsumu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#miya atsumu #y/n #haikyuu imagines #hq atsumu #atsumu imagines #atsumu angst

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fonulyn · 4 years ago

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fonulyn’s 2020 in fics

this is kind of exciting since in 2020 I did get a lot writing done, and it marks the second year in a row that I’m able to actually make one of these posts after that horrible not good at all terrible disastrous three and a half years when I wrote absolutely nothing. so it’s a triumph to get another one of these up! personal victory haha.

in total, in 2020 I wrote 148 fics, ranging from like 200 words to 34k (idk if those short things can be called fics but i just did). by pairing, there’s

13 of Joe/Nicky

58 of Piers/Leon

56 of Chris/Leon

(1 with Piers/Leon and Chris/Leon)

5 of the ot3 (Chris/Leon/Piers)

11 of Krauser/Leon

3 of Wesker/Chris (lmao still can’t believe this)

1 of Chris/Leon/Krauser

so. in retrospect, i did okay.

it’s over 300 thousand words and I am kind of. surprised. and that is not counting the approximately 50k of wips i’m ignoring :’D

I’d also like to take a second to thank everyone who has ever sent me nice messages, commented on the fics, left reblogs or kudos, and the like. you’re what kept me going, I wouldn’t have gotten even half as much done otherwise.

without further ado, links to all of the fics under the cut! they’re organized by pairing, and the links take you to tumblr posts (bc I’m lazy) and a lot of them have a link in the post that takes you to ao3. (also can you see I put ~~so much~~ effort into naming the tumblr ficlets :’D feel free to laugh at me)

Joe/Nicky

a dog by any other name | 1,5k | The one wherein they end up owning a dog.

within the heart a flame of desires | 5,0k | Nicolo watches Yusuf have sex with others, desperately wishing he was with him instead. Until things change. He much prefers having Yusuf all for himself.

the world will wait | 2,4k | The one wherein Joe takes a lot of naps and the whole team gets to relax.

catch this | 650w | Every time Joe gets distracted (by Nicky), Andy tries to take him by surprise.

nobody’s perfect | 1,9k | Even immortal warriors have their weaknesses, Nile learns. Those just aren’t what she expected.

only in these arms | 780w | Nicky has trouble sleeping alone. Andy is a decent substitute, but only when Joe returns so does Nicky’s ability to get a decent night’s rest.

(please don’t explain) that time in Malta | 580w | Nile doesn’t think at first it would even be possible for Joe to be embarrassed. By anything. Until one evening, they talk about Malta.

cool it down boys | 400w | Andy gets no sleep. She gets revenge, though.

cowboy, baby | 340w | Nicky has the fashion sense of a sack of flour, and he is fine with that.

that day is not today | 4,9k | They struggle through the whole lab-experience. It isn’t the time yet to forgive Booker.

tea, soup and tlc | 2k | The one wherein Joe is not sick. At all. Nope. He isn't.

two drinks too many | 770w | Nicky is a little drunk. Joe loves him anyway.

safe haven | 3,9k | The one wherein everyone gets quality cuddles from Joe.

Piers/Leon

it was you that I found | 23,4k | Leon doesn’t really do relationships. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he always seems to be so bad at them. Of course entirely by accident he manages to build one without even realizing it.

unexpected visitor | 690w | Piers is forced on bed-rest. At least Leon stops by.

got me all tied up (never let me go) | 4,0k | Piers doesn’t like suits. Leon loves Piers in a suit.

not so subtle | 210w | “Soo, were you checking me out all night, or was that just my imagination?” Leon asks suddenly, Piers chokes on his drink in surprise.

nighttime fools | 4,8k | Piers and Leon get arrested for public indecency. It’s not their fault, honest.

piers isn’t sick, really, he isn’t (he is) | 670w | “Oh, hi,” Piers said immediately, a goofy smile slipping onto his face. Man, he was happy to see Leon. So happy to see him.

so you’ve met Xena | 620w | “Xena?” Leon turned to look at Piers, decidedly unimpressed. “You named your dog after the Warrior Princess?“

you’re cute, you know | 680w | Piers took the opportunity the second their gazes met. He grinned, as charmingly as he possibly managed, and said “You’re cute, you know that?“

kiss the nightmares away | 470w | Sleepily Piers blinked, trying to make his eyes work properly. He squinted at the digital clock on the bedside, and its harsh red numbers that told him it was 3:30, and confusedly he turned to frown at Leon. “Why aren’t you sleeping?“

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth | 1,4k | Piers can not control what comes out of his mouth.

dream a little (dirty) dream of me | 1,3k | Piers wakes Leon up. That's it.

your shirt is my shirt | 950w | With a sigh Piers grabbed the only shirt available that wasn’t battery operated and obnoxious. It was Leon’s, so old that the print had faded completely, leaving only faint outlines behind. And when Piers pulled it on he grumbled again, realizing how tight it was.

here for you | 620w | Leon can’t sleep, but somehow Piers makes his anxieties bleed away.

grand plans | 260w | “Are you seriously going to wear that?”

new puppy | 430w | “Hey there little guy.” Leon bent down to pick up the little puppy, straightening again to hold it against his chest. His hands looked almost comically large as the dog was so tiny, and carefully he cradled it close.

a little bit funny | 850w | So maybe Piers hadn’t slept properly in days, and the sleep deprivation was making him a little hysterical, but he didn’t even remember when a stupid comedy would’ve made him laugh so much.

for now our time is here | 4,4k | When Chris had told them to wait up and left them alone for a while, this probably wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but the second he’d closed the door behind himself the tension that had been brewing between Leon and Piers had snapped like a cord.

wanting too much | 1,1k | “Fucking hell, never do that to me again,“ Leon huffed out, clearly relieved beyond anything.

the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair | 1,2k | Piers stress-braids. Leon doesn't mind. And besides, Piers always undoes the braids whenever he's done with them. Until one night he forgets.

you can be the air that i breathe | 1,0k | It wasn’t the first time Piers got punched in the face by a gigantic BOW so hard that the hit sent him flying. It was, however, the first time he was sent careening off a bridge and into the river below. And it was, definitely, the first time Leon saved his life.

before I found you | 890w | The second Piers realized that the spikes covering the monster actually came off, and it was able to shoot them towards its attackers, it was already too late for him to react.

you don’t need to stay | 950w | Piers did his best to take care of Leon. And as much as Leon appreciated it, he didn’t want to be a goddamn nuisance.

need me, baby, just a little stronger tonight | 2,1k | Leon really has to practice perfecting his poker face. At least he gets what he wants in the end.

be my valentine | 920w | “Are you sure?“ Piers asked for the tenth time, frowning down at the bar of Fazer blue chocolate. “I still think it’s… not a lot?”

you're the world that I wanna discover | 7,5k | The one wherein they buy a house, fall even more in love, and Leon reaches a breaking point.

call me (tell me what you feel) | 1,7k | Leon is stuck at the airport. At least he gets a nice phone call with Piers.

incentive to stay alive | 1,0k | "Hey, Nivans, wake up,” he tried, but there was no answer, and he couldn’t help but let the worry in his voice. “Piers. Don’t you dare die on me. Chris would kill me if I let anything happen to his best sniper.”

blanket hog Leon | 880w | Grumbling, Piers turned around, and as he’d expected Leon was cozily wrapped in at least four blankets, leaving nothing for Piers, who was currently freezing his ass off.

I give you all I am | 2,0k | “Leon?” Piers approached in quick steps, watching recognition flicker in Leon’s eyes as he lowered his own weapon too. Leon was slumped against the wall, hunched over and holding his side, and there was something feverish about his eyes. Yet as soon as he realized it was Piers he gave a shaky grin, even if that was all he managed.

why are the gorgeous ones always taken | 810w | Piers blinked his eyes open slowly, expression scrunched up, and it took a long moment before he managed to actually focus his gaze on Leon’s face. When he did, a smile immediately bloomed on his face, and he even tilted his head a little. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” he croaked out, his voice rough from lack of use.

still intact | 1,1k | It took a week before the level of painkillers was correct and Piers woke up with a gasp instead of a scream. And the first thing he asked was for someone to kill him.

of guns and ...guns | 270w | Leon likes the way Piers handles his rifle. There’s drool involved.

always fashionable | 540w | Apparently having a crush on the well-dressed, professional Leon translated into being absolutely fucking in love with the sleep-mussed and squinty Leon.

misplaced phones and revelations | 660w | Chris finds Piers’ phone. Which turns out to be Leon’s phone. The two turn out to be dating. Chris feels kind of blind.

yee-haw! | 1,0k | Leon rides Piers. Wearing a cowboy hat.

you’re cute when you’re angry | 620w | When he’s stressed, Piers washes the dishes. Angrily.

want to drink (with) you | 1,1k | Piers is an embarrassing drunk. Leon loves him anyway.

and each one of us is a path somewhere | 22,2k | Piers gets thrown twenty years back in time. Into Raccoon City, 1998. He’d heard about what Leon went through that night, but he never thought he’d have to actually experience it himself. Together with bright eyed rookie Leon.

hold me close | 560w | Leon falls asleep against Piers’ shoulder.

goatee man | 890w | Piers thinks growing a beard might make him look more manly.

promises kept | 2,9k | Leon finds out Piers isn't dead after all. He's just locked up in a BSAA research facility with no one allowed in to visit.

stay with me tonight (stay until the end of life) | 2,2k | Leon doesn’t know I’m contacting you, but a fair warning, because I’m worried. He was found unconscious on the bathroom floor at 10AM. They took him to the hospital, but he checked himself out. Look after him, okay?

4am | 760w | “What can I say,” Piers grinned against Leon’s neck, “I was dreaming of you.” He had no reservations about moving his hips, letting Leon feel just how nice the dream had been.

caffeinated | 550w | Someone gives Piers coffee. Leon knows what to do with that excess energy.

and i'm you and you're me | 7,0k | The one wherein Leon and Piers accidentally swap bodies.

girls’ day in bed | 780w | Piers and Leon wake up one morning with boobs and other assorted lady parts. It’s a fun day. (Spoiler alert: they have a lot of sex.)

worlds apart | 3,2k | Krauser kidnaps Piers to lure Leon to him. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

not again | 530w | Watching Piers’ mutation brings Leon some very unfortunate flashbacks. (feat. past Krauser/Leon)

gorgeous | 300w | Piers calls Leon gorgeous.

the most comfortable pillow | 350w | Leon falls asleep with his head on Piers’ lap.

beautiful | 840w | Even after losing an arm and ruining half of his face, Piers is the most beautiful thing to Leon.

as seen in adult films | 580w | Piers doesn’t know one damn thing about dishwashers. He volunteers to fix one anyway.

never letting go | 260w | Leon is goddamn comfortable right here. He isn’t going to move a single inch.

nose kisses | 390w | Piers is cute when he’s cranky. Just ask Leon.

no other half could ever make me whole | 6,3k | The one wherein they get a scare and there's a proposal.

the luxury of being held | 690w | The fabric of Piers’ hoodie is the perfect place to hide. (feat. Theo’s amazing art)

just one step from heaven, one step from paradise | 2,7k | The one wherein Piers makes sure Leon doesn’t freeze, and they enjoy their vacation.

all is fair in war, love and Mario Kart | 600w | Piers sucks at Mario Kart.

Chris/Leon

if i never see all my dreams come true, the one that mattered the most was you | 5,9k | Chris enlists Leon’s help on a mission as a clever ruse to make the man take a break he so obviously needs.

and I don't want to know how slow the time must flow | 11,1k | Chris and Leon try to fight their way out of a castle and feelings take over.

you are my heart, you are my home | 3,2k | Chris is sick, and he’s being extra dramatic about it.

from the gates of longing | 5,5k | Chris volunteers to take Leon home, but ends up getting a lot more than he bargained for.

how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans | 2,3k | Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris dad, and Chris and Leon sort of unofficially adopt him.

right here by your side | 1,9k | When Chris shows up to check up on Leon, four days into his self-imposed flu-exile, at first Leon wants to just throw him out. But then it turns into a relationship-building moment and suddenly he can’t mind all that much.

about time | 1,8k | Leon is freezing. Chris warms him up.

yet you'll lose yourself in me | 3,3k | The one wherein Chris is generously proportioned and Leon kind of loves it. (whispers: size kink)

beyond tomorrow | 1,7k | Leon ends up in the hospital after a mission, Chris hurries to see if he’s okay. Claire is already there.

look at those heart-eyes | 180w | Quickly Chris shook his head, reluctantly pulling his attention away from Leon.

there’s a cat in the sink | 220w | “There’s a cat in the sink, and we don’t own a cat.”

from the future | 300w | It’s 1998 and Leon comes face to face with himself, from 2017.

surprise redfield | 250w | “Don’t worry,“ Chris says, nonchalantly as if it’s an everyday occurrence that he’s standing in Leon’s kitchen.

need this feeling to last (there's no denying) | 2,4k | “Why don’t you fuck me yourself, you coward!“

something solid, something good | 520w | Chris was so warm, and that together with all the glorious skin-on-skin contact made Leon happily sink back into the embrace.

come closer | 520w | Leon is done with Chris being so careful around him.

your arms around me | 690w | Chris woke up cold and alone.

a needed break | 440w | Sometimes Chris got so single-mindedly stuck on a task that he forgot everything around himself.

the iron maiden | 820w | Suddenly it was hard to breathe, like he couldn’t fill his lungs with oxygen no matter how much he tried, to the point that his vision started to get blurry.

robin hood: chris in tights | 480w | Chris’ face was twisted into a theatrical grimace as he tugged a little on the green tights we was wearing. They were like painted on and although he didn’t really have body issues in general, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it.

luckless romance | 4,0k | Leon and Chris turn a drunken argument into something better. (Please note: The link takes you to the last part of six.)

take my hand | 920w | The worst part, by far, is not seeing anything. There are sounds, people talking like he isn’t even in the room, machines beeping and doors opening, quick busy steps against the floor.

let me take you to the edge of the stars and back again | 3,0k | Chris takes his sweet, sweet time before he gives Leon what he wants.

I’m going to seduce you | 1,1k | Jesus Christ, they’d had sex. Leon groaned again, this time less because of the headache and more because he felt so unbearably dumb. He’d probably had the best sex of his life, and he couldn’t remember it.

a little help | 430w | Those fucking idiots, Claire thought for the millionth time, as she watched her brother give the biggest dumbest heart eyes at Leon, who was blissfully oblivious about everything going on around him.

the way to anyone’s heart (the answer is food, good food) | 2,4k | Chris asks Leon to teach him how to cook. (Spoiler: Leon doesn't know how.)

oh the horror | 270w | “I seriously don’t understand why you want to watch this shit,” Leon groaned, pressing his face into Chris’ chest.

jealousy | 670w | Chris swallowed hard, downed the last of his beer, and took the leap. “I’m jealous okay.”

twist me up | 510w | Sure Chris had always known that Leon was flexible. Sure he had seen him even do these weird-ass yoga poses more than once. There was nothing new to it.

meet the parents | 600w | Leon brings Chris home for Christmas.

precious cargo | 930w | Chris lugs Leon around like luggage.

it's always been you | 870w | The hardest thing for Leon was when someone he cared about was in danger but there was nothing he could do about it. And then Chris fell into a ravine.

come away with me (to another world) | 2,0k | Leon finally gets a vacation.

first time sucker | 930w | “I don’t know, because it’s fun?” Leon said. “I promise you, you’re missing out.”

read my scars | 1,9k | Chris learns about Leon's scars.

battered and bruised | 650w | Ignoring the bruises and scrapes he had, Chris turned around and sprinted towards Leon, gritting his teeth against the strain moving put on his side.

a different kind of proposal | 500w | “If you keep fucking me this good,“ he breathed out, unsure if Chris even heard the words, “I’ll have to marry you.“

welcome home | 370w | The door had barely fallen shut behind Chris when Leon was in his personal space, grabbing him by the lapels of the trench coat he was wearing so he could pull him in close for a kiss.

I’d always choose you | 280w | Ada was something they didn’t talk about. When someone, anyone, brought her up Leon clammed up and changed the subject. And Chris had tried to be understanding, had tried to be patient, had tried his very best to respect Leon’s boundaries with this. But Chris was only human.

fuck or die | 1,7k | Chris gets hit by a weird plant, and his hard-on just will not go down. Until Leon takes matters into his hands.

i need a hug | 470w | “I think,“ Leon sighed, but then it was like all fight bled from him and he slumped a little forward. “I need a hug.“

oh no there’s only one bed | 990w | “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just one night. I’m sure you’ve slept with worse persons than me.”

the butt that became a pillow | 420w | Chris falls asleep on Leon.

like father like son | 2,8k | Leon finds out he has a son.

monster magnet | 1,1k | Leon didn’t know when it had become something he recognized so easily. When had it become so normal for mutated creatures to look at him with such unadulterated lust.

please be okay | 620w | Leon faints from sheer exhaustion.

like father like... grandson? | 4,1k | Liam proposes to a girl but ends up with Piers anyway. Chris and Leon are the friendly neighborhood grandpas. Their grandson is adorable, and Leon thinks he takes after him. Obviously. (feat. Piers/OMC)

black lace | 790w | Chris gets to come home to Leon in thigh high black lacy stockings and matching lingerie, instantly sending Chris’ brains into an overdrive.

at least let me help | 790w | Leon opens the door an inch, Chris uses the given opportunity to slam it wide open. Metaphorically speaking.

bridal style | 200w | Leon refuses the medical check up. So Chris carries him.

dance with me | 1,0k | Wedding planning with two schmoopy idiots in love.

drunken cravings | 480w | Chris and Leon are drunk, hungry, and incapable of cooking.

blow me | 650w | Chris gets his brains sucked out through his dick.

Claire knows best | 610w | Chris tries to set Leon up with Claire. Then Claire does set Leon up with Chris.

chase the demons away | 940w | Chris struggles with nightmares, Leon is there to hold him through them.

dance me to the end of love | 550w | Leon struggles to learn to dance.

Piers/Leon, Chris/Leon

fate changed (we keep loving as if the story isn't over yet) | 34,3k | In hindsight, Leon knew the second he opened the door and saw Chris standing there, dressed in his service uniform, mouth pinched to a grim line and unable to meet Leon’s gaze straight. There was only one logical reason for it, only one way to explain why he was standing there like he would rather be anywhere else, and Leon almost slammed the door right in his face. -- Or the one wherein no one really knows how to handle their grief, but somehow life goes on anyway. (I’m still so proud of this one negl)

Chris/Leon/Krauser

hearts beating fast (let's make this moment last) | 5,7k | Chris gets invited in for a threesome. The clever thing would’ve been to refuse, knowing his unrequited, helpless feelings. But then again, he’s just a man.

OT3

double the fun | 3,1k | Truthfully, Leon hadn’t thought his day could get this much better. Everything had gone wrong from the second he’d woken up and he’d already written the day off entirely, until the moment Chris had looked him dead in the eye and asked “How do you feel about two at once?”

of cuddles and blanket forts | 620w | Piers and Leon build a blanket fort. Chris would think they’re idiots, but they might actually be kind of brilliant.

hair straightener or waffle iron? | 310w | Chris and Piers break Leon’s hair straightener.

the last piece of the puzzle | 2,7k | The one wherein two becomes three.

not alone | 2,3k | Completely on accident, Piers and Chris happen to be there to save Leon from a tight spot. Cuddles ensue.

Krauser/Leon

drive me crazy (your eyes made me crave for this) | 2,3k | It was the best sex Krauser had ever had in his life. That’s why he kept coming back to Leon, kept saying ‘yes’ every single time the man as much as hinted that he might be up for meeting. He was getting off, and he was enjoying every second of it, and that was the extent of it. There certainly weren’t any feelings involved. None. None at all.

enjoying the view | 200w | Krauser likes ass-watching.

carry me to bed | 440w | Slowly Leon was coming back to his senses. Sweat was cooling on his skin, the hard surface of the table underneath him starting to feel uncomfortable.

and I lied that we would be fine | 1,1k | Leon knows he isn’t supposed to be doing this. There’s a vague recollection of something more important, something he should be focusing on, but the vast majority of his world has narrowed down onto the slick slide of their bodies, on the cheap scratchy sheets on his skin, on the sound of Krauser’s voice in his ear, and he can’t bring himself to care.

yet never enough | 1,9k | Krauser likes mirrors.

of wanting | 400w | Leon’s laughter echoed in the room as Krauser pinned him against the wall, before shutting him up with a ravenous kiss.

better with you | 590w | Despite knowing Krauser had his back, Leon was genuinely surprised when the man sat down right next to him instead of telling him to suck it up and get moving.

breakfast | 530w | Lately things had slowly begun to shift. And Leon wasn’t sure yet what was going on. Or how he felt about it.

kill me now | 900w | It was more than clear how much Krauser enjoyed their frantic attempts to kill one another, and Leon’s traitorous body shivered in response, the memory of times long gone returning like no time had passed at all.

lust that I've already spilled | 1,4k | “C’mon, Leon,” Krauser taunted, grinning as widened his stance. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself.”

will you just look at me | 650w | Krauser refuses to do feelings.

Wesker/Chris

I am the light that shall lead you to darkness | 1,8k | In all honesty, Chris wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up here: a panting mess, bent over a massive wooden table with Wesker holding him down laughably easily.

the light to drown in darkness | 2,0k | Wesker craves Chris. So Wesker takes Chris.

love-hate-(obsession?) | 470w | Wesker is a lovesick fool. If he wasn’t also a homicidal maniac, Jill would almost feel sorry for him.

#the old guard #resident evil #kaysanova #chreon #metaltango #nivannedy #chrisker #kreon #idk what i'm forgetting it's 2 am and i've spent seven hours on this #have pity on me :'D #my fics #2020 #this was so much work #i am praying for the links to work properly #so i don't need to touch this again nnhhh

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gallavictorious · 4 years ago

Note

Once again the fandom coming together to daydream about Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again but why is that on Mickey? Why does he always have to do things to make Ian happy when Ian's usually nothing but annoyed by Mickey and does nothing to make Mickey happy? Truly shows which character y'all care about more.

This got absurdly long, because I am who I am and did take the opportunity to go off on a tangent about valid conclusions and what not, so I put it under a cut. Read at your own risk! Oh, and I also do address the actual question about whether or not Ian's career is on Mickey, and whether or not Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy. ;)

For the sake of clarity, I got this ask in response to this post.

And I gotta say, nonnie, getting this ask perplexed me to the point of running off to Trusted Fandom Friends, demanding to know how my undying love and loyalty for Mickey could ever be doubted. Had to laugh at myself a little, actually, and the strenght of my befuddlement. It reminded me of the time I went on a trip with people from the 501st (cosplayers dedicated to the bad guys in Star Wars) and Rebel Legion (cosplayers dedicated to the good guys in Star Wars) and a lot of people assumed I was a Rebel sympathizer simply because I had friends in that group and those were the people who had invited me. Excuse me, I didn't yell, I have like 30 Darth Vaders in my damned home, how dare you question my allegiance? I was so used to always being known as a diehard Vaderkin fangirl that the mer fact of strangers failing to recognize me as such genuinely fucked a little with my sense of identity. My love of Mickey isn't anywhere near as deeply ingrained into my sense of self, since he's only been an occasional presence in my life since 2016 while Darth Vader's been my main man since 1994, but it was still a little jarring to suddenly find myself (mis)identified as an Ian stan.

Being a fangirl is strange.

And I want to make it clear that I do love Ian. He's a fascinating character and, to me, he's a character that's often much harder to understand than Mickey. He rewards careful analysis and discussion, though, so I guess I tend to talk a lot about him? I don't need to spend as much time considering Mickey's feelings and motivations because they are (almost) always pretty obvious; I don't need to tease them out. But at the end of the day, Mickey is my favourite. (Though I'll always love Ian and Mickey together more than I love either of them on their own. It's like fresh cilantro and mint – each perfectly lovely in their own right, but the combination of them creates a flavour that's just out of this world.)

Now, you might argue that you don't follow me and so have no idea who I am and what I like to post about, and that going only by that single post (which, in fairness, was tagged with 'i just want ian to be happy okay?') I give off the general impression of an Ian stan. And that's fair enough; I'm an obscure blog in a decently big fandom and you're not required to keep track of anyone. However, if you want to throw around passive aggressive accusations of caring more about one character than the other, I will ask you to do your research first. Reacting to one single piece of data without considering the context is a common but highly unfortunate practice that needlessly complicates meaningful conversations, and we'd all do well to abstain from it.

Oh, you don't want to spend a lot of time and energy on consdering every single thing a specific Tumblr blog has ever said on a specific topic just so you can draw a valid conclusion about their stance? That's perfectly understandable, nonnie, and easily sorted: refrain from making unsubstantiated claims about what other people think or don't think and you won't have to. Ask them, if you wonder. If you see a tendency in fandom to put the responsibility for Ian's wellbeing and career or Mickey's shoulders and want to discuss that, that's totally cool! I am game (and will address that question below)! But it's very possible to do that without somewhat rudely ascribing perferences and opinions to other people, and you'll get better answers for it (for instance, you won't have to wade through me rambling on about valid conclusions and my memories from other fandoms... ).

It seems to me, though, that this touches upon a long-held frustration of yours. If I interpret your ask correctly, you think the show gives us an Ian who is mostly annoyed with Mickey and doesn't do anything to make him happy, and you think that the fandom responds to this by relegating Mickey to the role of Ian's caretaker, whose sole purpose is to serve Ian's needs without any regard for what might Mickey himself happy. Have I got that right?

If so, it should be noted that I don't agree with either of these takes: I don't think that's the Ian the show gives us (a point I will return to below), and I don't think that fandom at large only cares about Ian's happiness, and I particularly don't think that my post can be used a evidence of the latter.

For instance, when you sent me this ask the post in question had all of 40 notes. As I write this, it has just over 70. ”The fandom coming together” seems to be slightly overstating the case, don't you think? There are certainly fans who care more about Ian and only see Mickey as valuable as long as he contributes to Ian's happiness, just as there are fans who care more about Mickey and only see Ian as valuable as long as he contributes to Mickey's happiness - but this single post with less than a hundred notes does not support that either of these stances would be predominant within the fandom. (And, while on the topic, I'd like to state that I don't actually see a problem with either of those stances; these are fictional characters that exists for our entertainment and we don't have any moral obligations to treat them equally and fairly. Don't ruin other fans' fun by dumping on either of them in the character or shipping tags or on character and shipping posts and this is not a problem. It might be a somewhat unpopular opinion, but I don't think you have to love or even like all characters in a ship to ship it: I refuse to drink plain tea because it's nasty but put a splash of milk in it and its my favourite thing ever. You can love a combination without loving all the seperate pieces on their own. And yeah, I do revert to food metaphors a lot. I like food.)

Secondly, whether or not the post can be said to represent the feeling of the fandom at large (it cannot), I think that reading a post specifically about ”Mickey helping Ian out and seeing him back on track to become an emt again” and then extrapolating from that that Mickey ”always have to do things to make Ian happy” is a little wild. The very first thing I wrote for this fandom was a vision of Ian offering Mickey comfort, goddammit. (Ian giving Mickey a hug is so high on my list of desires, you can't even imagine)

As for your actual question (and, ah, imagine how much shorter this post would be if you had just left it at that) – of course that's not on Mickey. That much, incidentally, I've actually explicitly stated in another post. Ian might have his issues but he's still an adult and responsible for himself. That being said, I don't see it as particularly strange that someone would go out of their way to help their partner when they see them struggling? If I realize that someone I care about is unhappy and there's a way for me to help, I would want to help because I love them and want them to be happy, even if it's – ethically speaking – not my responsibility to do so. Pretty sure Mickey, who is action-oriented and so very protective of the people he loves, feels the same way.

Of course, if it's a one-sided thing – if one partner is always the one to do stuff for the other and never receives any support in return – that's not a healthy relationship, and I assume that this is what you're seeing in the show and taking exception to?

Only... I can't help but wonder who this Ian is, this uncaring, selfish version you see – because I don't quite get how it can be the Ian who emptied his bank account for Mickey, or the Ian who was ready to throw his parole and stay in prison for Mickey even when they were in the middle of a fight specifically because Mickey said it would make him happy, or the one who kept trying to talk to Mickey and win him back after Mickey punched him in the face, accidentally broke his leg, and took off with a new lover (I'm not taking sides in this one, btw – I have a lot of sympathy and understanding for both of them and their actions throughout this whole sorry affair), or the Ian who immediately wanted to marry Mickey protect him from the consequences of a murder Ian thought he had actually comitted, or the Ian who went along with arranging a real wedding even though he initially didn't at all understand why this was important to Mickey and who had someone come serenade him once he did, or the Ian who chose At last for Mickey to walk up to the aisle to, or the Ian who keeps trying to reach out to Mickey and to touch him and discuss their issues in a mature way even when he's (justifiably) upset about Mickey using all their wedding money without telling Ian. (Though Ian deciding for both of them that they're saving the money isn't great either.)

I mean, Ian's absolutely done shitty things, as has Mickey. They're human, and they're the products of a chaotic and often hostile enviroment. They do mess up a lot; they've hurt each other rather badly over the years. Depending on your perspective and preferences, you may think one or the other have behaved worse, but as far as I can see, the claim that Ian never does anything to make Mickey happy is simply not supported.

Ian has seemed unusually annoyed with Mickey this season, I'll give you that, but while that's not always the most fun thing to watch and I strongly sympathize with the wish to just see Ian look at Mickey with that fond look again, I don't find him being frustrated right now all that weird, given the circumstances. I'd argue it has less to do with Mickey and more to do with a general frustration over thwarted ambitions and not being able to hold on even to a really shitty job, though Mickey's attitude doesn’t exactly help (which is not to say that I think that Ian's the one in the right here, becasue Ian's way of handling things hasn't always been been stellar either). However, I do have faith in them sorting this out – because even though they fight and bicker and get annoyed with each other, there's never any indication that they're not both committed to making this marriage thing work. They certainly stumble, they misunderstand each other and lash out, but they calm down and go to sleep in the same bed and compromise and keep trying. Every day, they – both of them – choose each other.

I'd like to finish this off by noting, even though it's not entirely relevant to my argument, that that the number one thing that does make Mickey happy is being together with Ian, and even when Ian is pissed at Mickey and withholding sex (which was very ill-advised but says a lot of interesting things about his character, I think!) no one's sleeping on the couch, there are no nights away from the house and each other, and even in the middle of an argument they sit and stand next to each other. I think that's pretty telling of Ian's dedication, especially given his propensity for running away from his problems.

Phew. Okay, nonnie – though we don't agree and I doubt you'll find this answer satisfactory, I hope you see that I have done my best to understand your point of view and treat your arguments fairly and give you a thoughtful response. If you'd like to get back to me and elaborate on your stance, I'd ask that you show me the same courtesy. :)

#asks #i don't even know what to tag this i spent five hours writing it and my brain is mush #meta #i guess?

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nayialovecat · 3 years ago

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Centaurworld / Świat Centaurów

I encourage everyone to watch Centaurworld, because this 10 episodes at the moment show is just amazing. Virtually no flaws, or at least I don't see any. I managed to persuade a few people and they agreed that this show is great, I also see a growing interest on tumblr, which makes me happy - 'cause it means that for the first time I'm one of the first in the fandom, which may turn out to be one of the best fandoms in which I was (sorry, BATIM X'D). But I also heard opinions that this cartoon is "cute and silly" or that it is a "brainwasher" and I have to admit that I was a bit sick of this opinion. 'Cause, no, this animation is not just another silly, colorful fairy tale where you can laugh, listen to songs and forget about. You may disagree with what I'm about to say, but I'd like to share how I view Centaurworld. Sorry for spoilers in advance, I will try to write in such a way as not to spoil the watching pleasure, but some things have to be said and I will not avoid spoilers. Yes, the animation is colourful, it even has rainbows, stars and hearts at almost every step. In a small and little-spoiler shortcut: the animation presents the story of a fighting mare, which suddenly from a world engulfed in war, finds herself in a joyfully colorful and charming world inhabited by sometimes absurdly built and functioning centaurs (coraltur XD). And if it were a story based simply on the fact that a heroine, used to toil and suffering, has to learn to live in completely different conditions, it would actually be a silly cheerful cartoon. But it's not like that. First of all, Centaurworld has a compact, continuous story - it is a road story, during which the heroes experience various adventures, sometimes scary, sometimes funny, and have a chance to evolve and "become best versions of themselves" (we'll come back to that later). Among the ten episodes of the first season, there is one, literally one filler - in my opinion, it's a filler, 'cause if it was cut out of the plot, it would not be bad at all - but even it provides some important information and deepens the lore of the world (we are talking about the episode with the beartaur). So we have a heroine who is reluctant to a new place, a joyful herd of different individuals who helps her on her journey - and a journey through a magical, colorful world. Sounds like a lot of fun. But practically every episode has a deeper bottom, it shows its second face if we take a closer look at it. Already in the first episode, right after the song about how great Centaurworld is, it is suggested that living under a magic dome is a form of fear, fear of reality and real life with all its challenges and dangers. Today my husband drew my attention to one fragment of the song sung by Horse - namely during the Be Best Competition in the city of cattaurs, when Horse performs a wonderful song "Who is she", at one point he stumbles and then stands up and says “this isn't working, this isn't working, no, no". Of course, she might mean that she was pretending to be someone she wasn't - at the contest (she didn't act like the fighter she is). But look attention that in the same episode the cattaurs in the song "We do this every day" sing "But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal". In other words, they organize the same competition every day to forget about suffering, to drown out their own despair. Horse takes part in the competition, she's suffering after all - but he finds it doesn't work. What if she's talking at this point not about elegant haircuts and wearing high heels, but about the fact that the forgotting method doesn't work? In another episode, we have a depopulated town with only one resident left - the rest of them voluntarily let themselves be devoured so as not to have to suffer. Isn't it scary that in this joyful and magical land of rainbows and love, there are so many people who prefer to die than continue living? Personally, I was very shocked by how many Centaurworld heroes suffer - we

have different faces of depression, all kinds of traumas (some of which have not yet been explained) and even seemingly joyful characters are not like that when we get to know them better, when we delve into their past. The animation is pleasant and joyful, I can recommend it even to small children, with a pure heart - they will be delighted. But adults... adults will catch the other bottom, see the importance of the words spoken by the heroes - practically each of the Shamans tells the main character something that causes shivers (and it's not just the theme of Nowhere King, which in itself is terrifying and at the same time a very tragic figure). Starting with Waterbaby, whose song is a masterpiece when it comes to hidden meaning. I regret that sometimes the Polish translation spoils the double overtone of some phrases - but I assume that it is a matter of not catching them and not knowing the assumptions of the creator of the series by translators. Centaurworld is an exhilarating rainbow animation. But at the same time it is a deep story about a journey, about depression, about suffering, about not accepting yourself and trying to accept yourself as you are. In seemingly silly scenes (like the prison song "Baby's first spell") there are messages that an attentive viewer can easily translate into our reality (eg "Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!"). Animation offers not only empty entertainment, not only catchy songs and a moment of relaxation in front of the TV - it forces you to reflect. This compels you to notice that locking yourself in a trouble-free bubble is not the solution. It shows that you cannot avoid traumas, run away from the past - but you have to face them. But at the same time... at the same time, that it's not a shame to cry (I love the song "Frustration tears" - and after it, the behavior of the characters is also quite puzzling,they are not surprising that someone may be desperate - they even think it is the norm... puzzling, right?), it's not a shame to admit defeat or ask someone for help. The main character goes through an amazing path, undergoes a certain... transformation (and I'm not talking about the obvious one now), but not only her. I'm curious how many people noticed that a Glendale who has panic attacks almost every now and then in the first episode - by the end they are practically gone? Can anyone see how different Wammawink's behavior is when she wants to go through a rift - from behavior just after leaving the dome? She sings the same words, the same text "think about fragile things" - but how different is its meaning, its overtone. The series is not shallow. It is not just a story. It has a message, even a few messages. It shows how cruel the war is and how deep its stigma is, even long after it ended. It shows how terrifying depression can be and what it entails. That you shouldn't judge others by their appearances. That we shouldn't be ashamed of who we are or run away from the changes that are taking place in us. It teaches you to accept and love yourself - and many people now forget about that. But not only that. I think attentive viewers will notice many, many more of these little details, hidden flavors, little messages - or quite obvious morals than what I wrote here. Watch Centaurworld. This is, in my opinion, the best thing that has happened in a animation recent time.

(polish version below)

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PL version:

Namawiam wszystkich do oglądania Świata Centaurów, bo ta licząca sobie 10 odcinków na ten moment animacja jest po prostu rewelacyjna. Praktycznie bez wad, a przynajmniej ja żadnych nie dostrzegam.

Kilka osób udało mi się namówić i przyznały mi rację, że jest świetna, dostrzegam też rosnące zainteresowanie na tumblrze, co mnie cieszy - bo oznacza, że pierwszy raz jestem jedną z pierwszych w fandomie, który może się okazać jednym z najlepszych fandomów, w jakich byłam (sorry, BATIM X'D).

Ale usłyszałam też opinie, że ta kreskówka jest "urocza i głupiutka" albo, że jest "odmóżdżaczem" i muszę przyznać, że trochę mnie taka opinia ubodła. Bo, nie, ta animacja nie jest wcale kolejną głupawą, kolorową bajeczką, przy której można się pośmiać, posłuchać piosenek i zapomnieć. Możecie się nie zgodzić z tym, co zaraz powiem, ale chciałabym opowiedzieć, jak ja widzę Świat Centaurów.

Z góry przepraszam na spoilery, będę starała się pisać w taki sposób, aby nie popsuć przyjemności z oglądania, ale pewne rzeczy muszą być powiedziane i spoilerów nie uniknę.

Owszem, animacja jest kolorowa, wręcz ma tęcze, gwiazdki i serduszka na niemal każdym kroku. W małym i mało-spoilerowym skrócie: animacja przedstawia historię bojowej klaczy, która nagle ze świata ogarniętego wojną, trafia do radośnie kolorowego i przeuroczego świata zamieszkanego przez niekiedy absurdalnie zbudowane i funkcjonujące centaury (koralowiec XD). I gdyby była to historia opierająca się po prostu na tym, że bohaterka przyzwyczajona do znoju i cierpienia musi nauczyć się żyć w zupełnie innych warunkach, to faktycznie byłaby głupawa wesoła kreskówka. Ale tak nie jest. Przede wszystkim Świat Centaurów ma zwartą, ciągłą fabułę - jest opowieścią drogi, podczas której bohaterowie przeżywają różne przygody, niekiedy straszne, niekiedy zabawne, a także mają szansę ewoluować i "stać się lepszymi wersjami siebie" (do tego jeszcze wrócimy). Wśród dziesięciu odcinków pierwszego sezonu znalazł się jeden, dosłownie jeden filler - w mojej opinii jest to filler, bo gdyby go wyciąć z fabuły, ta by wcale nie ucierpiała - ale nawet on przekazuje pewne istotne informacje i pogłębia lore świata (mówimy o odcinku z niedźwiedziotaurem).

Mamy więc niechętną nowemu miejscu bohaterkę, radosne stadko różnych indywiduów, które jej w podróży pomaga - no i podróż przez magiczny, kolorowy świat. Brzmi jak świetna zabawa. Ale praktycznie każdy odcinek ma głębsze dno, ukazuje swoje drugie oblicze, jeśli mu się bliżej przyjrzymy. Już w pierwszym odcinku, zaraz po piosence o tym, jak wspaniały jest Świat Centaurów, pada sugestia, że życie pod magiczną kopułą jest formą strachu, lęku przed rzeczywistością i prawdziwym życiem razem z jego wszystkimi wyzwaniami i niebezpieczeństwami.

Mój mąż dziś zwrócił mi uwagę na jeden fragment piosenki śpiewanej przez Koń - mianowicie podczas Konkursu na Lepszą Wersję Siebie w mieście kotaurów, kiedy Koń wykonuje wspaniałą piosenkę "Who is she", w pewnym momencie potyka się, po czym wstając stwierdza "to się nie sprawdza, to nie to” („this isn’t working, no, no”). Oczywiście może jej chodzić o fakt, że podczas konkursu udawała osobę, którą nie jest (nie zachowywała się jak wojowniczka, którą jest). Lecz biorąc pod uwagę, że w tym samym odcinku kotaury w piosence „We do this every day” śpiewają „wojna i śmierć odmieniły nas, trzeba było sposób znaleźć, by zamaskować jakoś ból, przypudrować łzy” („But the Great War brought death and cats-tastrohphe - so we had to find a way to heal, cover up the pain, with pageantry and zeal”). Innymi słowy, urządzają dzień w dzień ten sam konkurs, aby zapomnieć o cierpieniu, aby zagłuszyć własną rozpacz. Koń poddaje się zasadom miasta, bierze udział w konkursie, sama również przecież cierpiąc – ale stwierdza, że to nie działa. Co, jeśli mówi w tym momencie nie o eleganckim uczesaniu i chodzeniu w butach na obcasie, ale o fakcie, że metoda zagłuszania się nie sprawdza?

W innym znów epizodzie mamy wyludnione miasteczko, w którym ostał się jeden mieszkaniec – cała reszta bowiem dobrowolnie dała się pożreć, aby wreszcie nie musieć cierpieć. Czy to nie jest przerażające, że w tej radosnej i magicznej krainie tęcz i miłości, jest aż tyle osób wolących umrzeć niż dalej żyć? Mną osobiście bardzo wstrząsnęło, jak wielu bohaterów Świata Centaurów cierpi – mamy tam pokazane różne oblicza depresji, wszelkiego rodzaju traumy (z których część nie została jeszcze wyjaśniona) i nawet pozornie radosne postacie wcale takie nie są, gdy bliżej je poznajemy, gdy zagłębiamy się w ich przeszłość. Animacja jest przyjemna i radosna, z czystym sercem mogę ją polecić nawet małym dzieciom – będą zachwycone. Ale dorośli… dorośli wyłapią to drugie dno, dostrzegą, jak wielką wagę mają słowa wypowiadane przez bohaterów – praktycznie każdy z Szamanów mówi głównej bohaterce coś, co powoduje dreszcze (i nie chodzi tylko o wątek Króla Nicości, który sam w sobie jest przerażającą i zarazem bardzo tragiczną postacią). Poczynając od Wodnej Buby, której piosenka jest majstersztykiem, jeśli chodzi o ukryte znaczenie. Boleję, że miejscami polskie tłumaczenie psuje podwójny wydźwięk niektórych zwrotów – ale zakładam, że to kwestia nie wyłapania ich i nieznajomości założeń twórczyni serialu.

Świat Centaurów jest radosną tęczową animacją. Ale jednocześnie jest głęboką opowieścią o podróży, o depresji, o cierpieniu, o braku akceptacji samego siebie i próbie zaakceptowania się takim, jakim się jest. W pozornie głupawych scenach (jak więzienna piosenka „Baby’s first spell”) mają miejsce przesłania, które uważny widz łatwo przełoży na naszą rzeczywistość (np. „należy być dumnym ze swojego czarodziejskiego ciała” – „Everyone should be proud of their magical bodies!”). Animacja oferuje nie tylko pustą rozrywkę, nie tylko wpadające w ucho piosenki i chwilę relaksu przed telewizorem – zmusza do refleksji. Zmusza to zauważenia, że zamknięcie się w pozbawionej kłopotów bańce nie jest rozwiązaniem. Pokazuje, że nie można unikać traum, uciekać od przeszłości – ale trzeba im stawić czoła. Ale jednocześnie… jednocześnie, że nie jest wstydem płakać (uwielbiam piosenkę „Frustration tears” – i po niej również dosyć zastanawiające jest zachowanie bohaterów, dla których nie jest zaskoczeniem, że ktoś może być zrozpaczony – wręcz wydaje im się to normą… zastanawiające, nieprawdaż?), nie jest wstydem przyznać się do porażki albo poprosić kogoś o pomoc. Główna bohaterka przechodzi niesamowitą drogę, przechodzi pewną… przemianę (i nie mówię teraz o tej oczywistej), ale nie tylko ona. Jestem ciekawa, ile osób zwróciło uwagę na to, że taka Glendale, która w pierwszym odcinku ma napady paniki praktycznie co chwila – pod koniec praktycznie już ich nie ma? Czy ktoś dostrzega, jak odmienne jest zachowanie Wammawink, kiedy chce przejść przez ryft – w stosunku do zachowania, tuż po opuszczeniu kopuły? Śpiewa te same słowa, ten sam tekst „tak delikatni są” („think about fragile things”) – ale jakże inne jest jego znaczenie, jego wydźwięk.

Serial nie jest płytki. Nie jest jedynie opowiastką. Ma przesłanie, a nawet kilka przesłań. Ukazuje, jak okrutna jest wojna i jak głębokie jest jej piętno, nawet długi czas po jej zakończeniu. Pokazuje, jak przerażająca potrafi być depresja i to, co się z nią wiąże. Że nie należy oceniać innych po pozorach. Że nie należy wstydzić się tego, kim się jest, ani uciekać przed zmianami, jakie w nas zachodzą. Uczy akceptacji i miłości do samego siebie – a o tym wiele osób obecnie zapomina. Ale nie tylko to. Sądzę, że uważni widzowie dostrzegą jeszcze wiele, wiele więcej takich drobnych elementów, ukrytych smaczków, drobnych przesłań – lub całkiem oczywistych morałów, niż to, co ja tutaj napisałam.

Oglądajcie Świat Centaurów. To najlepsza moim zdaniem rzecz, jaka przydarzyła się w animacji z ostatnim czasie.

#centaurworld #Świat Centaurów #Nayia Lovecat recommends #spoilers

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aliasimagines · 4 years ago

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The Cat's out of The Bag//Jason Todd

a/n: i suck at titles 🤷🏻‍♀️. Anyway hope you like it 💕

word count: 1130 (? At least i belive so, i checked it when I finished writing it at 3am but im just too lazy to do it agian)

requested by @im-hqlover

Jason and reader were trying to hide their relationship from other people at school, but somehow someone finds out and soon the whole school know about their relationship. (Maybe kinda angst and fluff too, because I love this combination.)

It was one of the first things you talked about as a couple. One of the first 'rules' that were set in the relationship. Neither of you made a big deal out of it, Jason completely understood and was very much okay with keeping it a secret.

It's not that you were embarrassed about dating Jason. But he was very popular. A lot of people from school had crushes on him. And you were kinda okay with that, because you knew that he trusted you, that he chose you, he wanted to be with you not anyone else. But maybe some people at school couldn't handle Jason being in a relationship so calmly?

Just thinking about it made you stress. So you didn't tell anyone. Okay maybe a few closer friends knew about it but noone you guys didn't trust. And it was cool, everything was going fine.

So when you walked into school one day, only to hear people whisper behind your back and to get stared at by everyone you had no idea what could have happened.

Until some girls walked up to you while you were still packing your books in your bag from your locker.

"You're Y/N, right?" you heard from behind you. You turned around to see Becky and her two side pieces friends. You noded confused. These three were like the Heathers of Gotham High.

"Yes..?"

"Is it true?" Becky asks now louder, her words drawing more attention from the passing by students. You had no idea what she was talking about. You had no idea why she would wanna talk to you of all people.

"What is?"

"You and Todd." added Chelsea, the girl on Becky's left. "I personally don't think so."

You gasped. What? How did they know?

"Todd? As in Jason? I don't even know him.." you tried, still caught off guard. The third girl, Sarah lifted her phone and held it out for you to see. On her phone the school tumblr was opened and there was a picture of you and Jason walked out of a bookstore hand in hand. The picture was blurry as you were only lit by street lamps and the store's sign. The picture was taken last night.

You cursed mentally. Someone from school must have seen you and upload this pic to the schools social media. You felt sick. All those whispers made sense now. You slammed your locker closed and left without a word. You ran to the one place were you knew noone would disturb you. The art classroom. You practically tore the door open and fell on the floor. Fortunately noone was in. You felt your thoughts getting louder and louder. It was getting so overwhelming you wanted to scream but you just went to hug your legs close to your chest. You could have sworn that the empty and half covered canvases were mocking you while thei finished pieces just rolled their nonexistent eyes.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing. You wish it wasn't a wednesday. Jason didn't have a first period on wednesdays. If he was here this whole thing would be so much easier. You could call him, sure. But between patrolling all night and studying for his finals in all his free time Jason needed all the sleep he could get. And he should wake up soon as it is almost 8am.

Somewhat calmer you took out your phone to maybe listen to some music that'll help you figure out how to get to class. I mean you knew you had to walk to your classroom in a few minutes but there was nothing else that you wanted to do less than that. But yes. Eventually you have to get up and go out. You bit your lips summoning all the courage as you heard the bell ringing.

You opened the door, peaking out if there was anyone on the corridors. When you saw none you hurried through the school with your head hanging low. You tried so hard not to make any noise, to sit on your chair without making a sound, to make yourself invisible. You tried so hard to focus on the teacher but every two minutes you heard someone whisper your name quickly followed by Jason's... You wished for a lifesaving bell instead you heard your phone buzzing slightly. Carefully you looked at the screen.

Jason wrote.

Quickly making up an excuse for the teacher about how you felt sick, which wasn't suspicious at all, you were out on the corridor once again.

Jason: 'I'm in the library. Can you get out of class?'

You: 'Already out, be there in a sec'

Entering the library you knew where to search him as the two of you met up there once or twice. You weren't wrong, behind a big shelf full of classic literature stood Jason leaning against the wall, clearly frustrated. As he saw you he pushed himself away from to wall and opened his arms. Without hesitation you hugged him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"I am so sorry, y/n." he whispered. "I came as soon as I saw the headlines."

You pulled away so you could look at him.

"The whats?"

"Headline.. Oh shit, you didn't see? It's all over the internet. Gotham Gazette has already written a damn article about it. Bruce is making calls at the moment but..."

"Oh my god..." you panicked. Not only the school but whole Gotham knew about yout relationship now. Great, and now you wanted to cry. Jason noticed and cupped your face.

"Please baby, I am so sorry. If I could I would erase that damn picture but... Ah no... I know it's overwhelming, it's okay, if you feel like crying I've got you okay?"

You noded and hugged him again.

"It's just... I know it's stupid but-" you took a deep breath" I'm just kind of afraid..? People been whispering since I'm here and school only started half an hour ago"

You looked at Jason and it made you hurt, you knew he felt guilty even though he had no reason to do so. Shaking, you took his hand.

"Jay it's not your fault, you can't do anything about it now." you said. He bit his bottom lip.

"I know.. I just hate seeing you so hurt."

"It's so much better now that I've got you here."

"It's gonna okay. We are in this crap together, alright? There might be some people who want to have a say in about our relationship, and yes some people might look at you with jealousy because they think they ever stood a change. But they don't because I love you . No one else. "

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd angst #jason todd one shot #jason todd fluff #teen! Jason todd #Behind This mask au #request #batboys x reader #batboys fluff #batboys angst #alias imagines #dc imagine #red hood imagine #dc one shot #i am so sleepy right now #😴

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wingedchildqueen · 4 years ago

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Thunderstorm Kisses

Well my god. I wrote this five years ago, under my old tumblr account that I deleted by mistake and thought I had lost it forever, as I had also lost the laptop I typed it on. I suddenly remembered the name of it and took a chance searching it up and what do you know. Tumblr aint completely useless. The post still exists even though the account is dead. This is a dead fandom, I’m quite aware but I’m posting it here for documentation sake and for any lucaya fans who may be still floating around on this god forsaken platform. Much love and happy reading. P.S My writing has gotten better since this was written (God I hope) lol but I have not edited or altered anything because I think my 18 year old self's writing style should be left as it is for the sentimentality of it all. Warning: This is so cringy, cheesy and teeny boppy (if that's a thing) eeekk

He’d always wondered what she tasted like. If her kisses would be as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes. He knew it was wrong to have these thoughts when he had been in a relationship with her best friend for almost two years, and he loved Riley, he really did. But when this girl was always in his face , challenging him, teasing him and threatening him relentlessly, all he could do was stare down at this raging blond fury, and over time he happened to notice that she had the pinkest lips he had ever seen, almost perfectly shaped, with a permanent smirk that was always directed at him and he began to wonder what they tasted like.

He would catch himself thinking about her at the most random times. Strawberry lips and sunshine hair would flood his mind and afterwards he would hate himself for it because he knew he should be thinking about warm chocolate eyes and chestnut hair, but it was hard to do that when a sea of electric blue always invaded and washed away these thoughts.

After almost two years of letting her verbally and physically abuse him, he had finally begun to fight back. Not because he was sick of it, or because he wanted to hurt her, but because he knew she liked when he did, and he would do anything to see that fire in her eyes intensify. The first time he had actually fought back, by responding to one of her verbal jabs with a very clever remark in his opinion, her eyebrows had shot up in surprise and he was not sure if he should stay or run from her wrath, but surprisingly she had smiled. Though, he could not have been sure, because it had only lasted for an instant, until her face fell back to its usual smirk and she proceeded to call him one of her ever creative names in response. He noticed that she smiled a lot, especially with Riley, but he also noticed that a lot of her smiles were always a little too hard, or with a little too much teeth and they never really reached her eyes. He had never seen someone so committed to assuring the happiness of their best friend. She would sell her soul for Riley. Riley’s happiness was Maya’s occupation and he wished that she realized her happiness was important too and sometimes he would want so badly to tell her she was worth everything and more, and she deserved the world but he could not do that. They would be no windowsill conversations between them, no heart to hearts because he was Ranger Rick and she was his girlfriend’s best friend. And that was that.

He found her crying one time, underneath a staircase at school. He had never seen her cry before. The school was nearly empty and Riley had had cheerleading practice. He was not sure what to do at first, if he should just walk away and call Riley, but then a sob came from her that nearly broke his heart, and never in his life had he felt such a need to fix someone. She sat in the corner of the staircase, her knees drawn to her chest and her face in her hands, her hair cascading down her shoulders. Her shoulders shook and his insides hurt. He didn’t think she knew anyone was looking at her so he called her name. She remained in the same position and he called her name again. No response. She had to have heard him. She probably thought if she didn’t acknowledge him he would eventually go away but he refused to do anything of that sort. Without a second thought, he walked towards her tiny figure and slid down the wall next to her. He felt her body tense and then put his arm around her, pulling her into him. She lay stiff in his arms but he held on. After a few minutes he felt her finally relax against him and her head fell heavily against his shoulder. Her sobs had subsided but she still shook a little. His grip tightened and he rested his head against hers. Never did someone fit so perfectly in his arms. He heard her sigh, a sigh that sounded like it was filled with so much world weariness. They never spoke of it afterwards, it was as if it had never happened and though she had never told him to, he knew he was not supposed to tell Riley that he had found her crying. It was an unspoken agreement. The only acknowledgment that he got that had proven what had happened had not been a figment of his imagination was when the very next day their eyes had locked briefly across their lunch table with Riley and Farkle in the cafeteria and she had given him a small smile. Of gratitude? He couldn’t be sure but he thinks it was probably the most genuine smile he had ever seen on her face, even though her lips had only slightly turned upwards, but no matter how small, it had gotten to her sea glass eyes.

He could feel there dynamic slowly changing. He wasn’t sure he could say they were becoming friendlier with each other but they were becoming…something more than just two teenagers who tolerated each other for the sake of a mutual friend. They no longer needed Riley to be there to feel comfortable in each other’s presence. One day, all four of them, him, Riley, Farkle and Maya, were supposed to meet at “Topanga’s” to hang out but it had just ended up being the two of them as Farkle had ditched them to hang out with the AV club and Riley had to babysit Auggie at the last minute. He would have thought that Maya would have left to go and help Riley with Auggie but surprisingly she had stayed and it was then he had found out that she was a really good listener. Sitting opposite each other in one of the booths, with her hands clasped together on top of the table she listened as he told her about Texas sunsets, and how beautiful the horses looked when they ran together in the fields and how he had always woke up at five every morning to do things around his grandparents farm. He told her how much he missed his old home and his family and how sometimes New York could be so suffocating with all its skyscraper buildings and millions of people. Not once did she call him a name or interrupt him as he told her, she just listened. At the end of it, it was silent for a moment and she just stared at him with her piercing eyes, as if she was searching for something in him. After a moment she leaned back and said to him,

“ Even though here might not feel like home, always remember that we will always be your family, no matter what.” She told him this without her gaze ever wavering from his face and he thinks that that was the moment he started to fall in love with her.

He began to walk her home nearly every day after school especially on the days when they all hung out till dark. The first time he did, he realized how far she lived from Riley’s house, nearly five blocks and her neighborhood was not exactly the safest, especially in the night. The first few times she fussed about it and told him it wasn’t necessary but eventually she realized she could not convince him otherwise and it became a pattern. No matter how much she claimed she could take care of herself he always noticed how she would draw nearer to him whenever they walked passed a dark ally or she received a random catcall from a pedestrian across the street. In those moments it would take everything he had within him to prevent himself from enclosing her hand in his just to assure her that he was right here beside her, that nothing in hell could hurt her with him here. In those walks he found out a lot about her. That her mom changed jobs all the time and worked triple shifts and sometimes days would go by without her seeing her. He learned that her sick grandmother lived with them and that she tried to get home as soon as possible to make her dinner and watch tv with her. He got the impression that aside from Riley, her Grandma was her best friend. Her eyes always lit up when she spoke of her.

One day after almost six months of walking her home, she finally invited him inside. He could see how nervous she was as she fumbled open the door of the apartment. “It’s not much,” she had mumbled to him and he had told her he didn’t care if she lived in a box on the worst alley in New York. She laughed at that and he saw her relax a little. Her laugh was like a drug to him, and like any addict, whenever he rarely evoked one from her, he found himself on this high. She introduced him to her grandmother who hugged him with a grip so fierce it startled him. He could have seen that she had been beautiful when she was younger. He now knew where Maya had gotten her looks from. Her grandmother had held his hand while sitting on her rocking chair and studied him for a significant amount of time, with eyes very similar to Maya’s. She then turned to Maya and announced that it was abnormal for a boy to have such a beautiful face. He laughed and then heard Maya scoff behind him. He turned to her and winked and she rolled her eyes. She walked towards the small kitchen and he swore he glimpsed a smile that she tried to hide behind her hair. He helped her make dinner, despite her refusal, and though it was only Mac and cheese, it was probably the best meal he had ever had as he ate next to her on the couch in the living room, opposite her grandmother as they watched some Spanish soap opera with no english subtitles. Though he had no idea what they were saying he laughed along with Maya and her grandmother and he thinks this was the happiest he had ever seen her. Afterwards he stood next to her in the kitchen by the sink as she washed the dishes and he dried and in that moment he felt like this was something he would like to do for the rest of his life, not just wash dishes, but just stand next to her, unconsciously bumping shoulders, and brushing fingers, as she passed the dishes to him, that sent shivers down his spine.

He helped her make dinner at least three times a week and her grandmother loved him. She would pass him worried looks whenever her grandma barely touched her food, which was most nights, and he would fix the antenna on the television on the nights they tended to get a lot of static. He looked forward to these nights, more than anything else and though she would never admit it, he didn’t know how grateful Maya was for him coming. He made her nights less lonely.

One night, just after they had washed the dishes, they heard thunder rumble outside and in a few minutes there was a full out storm raging outside. They stood by the window and watched as lightning streaked the sky outside. He felt her turn her head to watch him and he met her gaze. She shrugged her shoulders and turned on her heel, heading for her room. How he knew that that was her way of giving him permission to stay the night? He wasn’t sure, but at some point they had begun to understand each other without the use of words. He stood still for a moment and eventually followed her into the room where she had already thrown a sheet and pillow on the floor for him. He told her that he could sleep on the couch but she just shook head, mumbling something about her grandma groaning in the night and he would never get any sleep on the couch.

Later on, they lay in the dark, with him on the floor and Maya on her bed. They lay in silence and he listened to her breathing and thought of a lot of things. He thought of Riley, innocent Riley, who was probably sleeping and he felt guilty because she was so kind, and beautiful and loving and he didn’t deserve any of it as he lay on the floor of her best friend’s bedroom, her best friend who he was falling in love with one Spanish soap opera at a time. And then he thought of Maya, and everything she was, and how brightly she burned in this black and white life she did not deserve and how underneath the entire tough façade she put on at school she was just a girl trying to hold it all together the best that she could with a sick grandmother and an almost absent mother and he thought of how he so much wanted to give her a life she deserved.

He heard ruffling of sheets and then the thudding of feet landing on the floor and the next thing he knew she was lying next to him. There was absolutely no physical contact, and they both just lay there, staring at the ceiling and he could feel her warmth, so close to him, part of her hair, which was fanned out on the floor tickled his neck. He turned on his side to look at her and she mirrored him and they both lay staring at each other intently. He fell asleep drowning in a sea of blue.

They didn’t talk about how the next morning they woke up wrapped up in each other, feet intertwined and his arms around her and her face in his neck. They didn’t talk about how they lay there for a few moments, without moving, even though they both were already awake and should have long detangled. Those things remained unspoken.

He could feel Riley beginning to suspect something. Innocent Riley who should not have to suspect these kinds of things. He wasn’t sure exactly what had made her aware of it, maybe it was the lingering glances between him and Maya in the cafeteria or the fact that Maya taunted him less and less these days or that he and Maya stood a little too close to each other by the lockers. She could feel her eyes on him at certain times, especially when they hung out together as a group and he couldn’t help but feel terrible. It wasn’t as if they had kissed or anything but he could feel Riley’s eyes burning into him and feared that she could see into his mind and see exactly what he was thinking. Maya, Maya, Maya.

He knew Maya could feel her suspicion too and they cut down his number of visits to once a week as much as he hated it. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong even though, in reality they really were.

One afternoon, both him and Maya stood at Riley’s locker waiting for her to finish cheerleading practice. They had begun to laugh about something, something entirely stupid but it had him gasping for breath as he laughed and she bent over holding her stomach. They were a mess, even though whatever it was had not even been that funny. He steadied her from toppling over with laughter and she leaned against him heavily. Eventually they calmed down, leaning against the lockers with their shoulders pressed against each other. He looked at her, her hair an absolute mess and laughed, gently pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and smoothing down the rest with his two hands. She smiled as he did this and suddenly there faces were so close to each other and he could feel her breath on his face with the scent of peppermint and she was so close and so warm and……

He heard someone clearing their throat and there stood Riley, her hands clenched at her sides and they both straightened up. He hated being responsible for that look of hurt in her eyes. Maya looked down at her shoes and he felt sorry for her as well. She had been trying so hard , all her life, to protect her friend from the hurt of the world and here she was, the person to hurt her, sealed and delivered.

Him and Riley’s three year relationship ended that night over the phone with a lot of silence and sharp words from her side of the conversation. You would think after three years he would feel hurt and be mourning the loss if his girlfriend, but instead, he felt free. He called Maya but she did not answer the phone. He tried a few more times but it went straight to voicemail.

He thought that maybe she just felt bad about the entire Riley situation and that at school he would assure her that everything was alright and that Riley was not even that mad anyways, but for three days she didn’t show up to school and he felt a panic rise in him. He didn’t ask Riley because she still wasn’t talking to him and obviously Farkle, his supposed best friend was taking her side. She still would not pick up her phone and with nothing else to do he found himself walking towards her apartment after school. He knocked on her door loudly and anxiously. There was no response. Where was she? He knocked again and shook the handle only to find that the door was open. The pace of his heart increased rapidly and his palms began to sweat. Why was her door open and why did he suddenly feel so scared? He slowly pushed open the door and there she sat on the couch, in front of the television that blasted a Spanish soap opera. As familiar as this scenario was to him, he could not help but feel something was missing. Only then did he realize the empty rocking chair and the door to her grandmother’s room that was wide open showcasing a stripped mattress and boxes on the floor for packing. Everything connected and his eyes fell back to her on the couch, knees drawn to her chest and unseeing eyes glued to the television. If he looked closely he could have seen that her hands trembled as they wrapped around her legs. He could see that she was trying desperately to hold herself together. “Oh Maya,” he said and he dropped his book bag to the floor and made his way to the couch. He enveloped her into his arms and this time she didn’t tense but completely melted into him. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his chin on her head, smoothing his hand over her hair and she cried and shook and soaked his t-shirt with her tears. And in that moment he held her together.

He held her hand at the funeral and stayed with her at the grave until everyone else left so she could say her goodbyes without the whole world to witness and just him, and he was not allowed to stay because he didn’t matter, but because he did. He took her for ice cream afterwards instead of them going back to the apartment to be surrounded by sad stories and the sickening smell of flowers. He tried to make her laugh and she appreciated it even though the most she could muster was a bitter smile. They stood on the sidewalk outside the ice cream shop and he held her hand tightly and whispered to her that it was all going to be okay and she rested her head on his shoulder. Death sucked, but it sucked a little less when you had someone to hold onto.

The first time he kissed her, they were on her fire escape. They had started to sit there a lot now because watching Spanish soap operas just really was never the same anymore. He was telling her about the stars in Texas and how when you looked up at night you could see billions of them dotting the sky unlike the too bright city of New York that drowned out the night sky. They lay on their backs looking at the sky and he had challenged her that she probably could not even count twenty stars in New York’s night sky. Of course she had looked at him determinately and started to count, hell bent to find twenty-one stars, the one extra just to make him look like an ass. And of course she did count twenty one stars exactly and she raised her arms in triumph above her head and then turned to give him the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. This smile met her eyes and lit up her entire face, and she was brighter than any Texas sky. He took her face in both his hands and kissed her. She tasted like coffee and strawberries and Spanish soap operas and night skies and he loved her so much his heart hurt. She pulled away from him and looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He nodded his head in response to her unasked question and pulled her back in and his hands threaded through her sunshine hair. Her hands wrapped behind his neck and their bodies fit in ways that was too perfect too describe.

He no longer had to wonder if her kisses were as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes. They were. And she tasted like everything he could ever want and in her arms and lost in her lips, he knew;

He was home

#lucaya #girl meets world #rileymatthews #maya hart #sabrina carpenter #rowan blanchard #lucayafic #farkle minkus #lucas #peyton meyer #girlmeetsworldfanfiction

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foreveradreamlover · 4 years ago

Text

amores que matan parte 1

so yes, here it is. My first attempt at writing a semi-decent body of work. There will be a number of warnings so make sure to go through them before preceding. Enjoy! (I apologize in advance for the formatting, I use Tumblr on my phone 🥴) @lavenderhoney12 thank you for inspiring me to write this, I wouldn’t have wrote it at all without you 🤩💖

warnings: young naive reader, terrible Spanish and English translations, work has not been proofread, angst, hurt, power dynamics, future throuple between Miguel-Maria-Reader, possible dubious consent because of the power dynamic, possible dark undertones, talk of abortion and infedelity. Idk what else I’m missing but I’m sure I hit all the marks without giving it all away.

Sometimes you wished you hadn’t met Felix and Maria. Your life would have been so much easier if you hadn’t crossed paths with them and fallen for both of them. And as you laid between them in their marital bed, you realized your life was going to get a lot more complicated now. You stared at the ceiling, feeling tears well up in your eyes. The guilt began to eat you up, the regret sank in.

You don’t belong here, you have no place here. There was no room for you in their marriage, no matter how spacious their bed was. A marriage is a commitment between two people, a third was not possible. You managed to hold in your sobs as you realized how royally fucked you were because you didn’t want to wake them up. You already felt terrible enough, you didn’t want them to make you feel even worse by trying to justify it.

But how did you get into this mess?

The events of the night before were hazy but as you wiped your tears it all became clear again.

You began yesterday morning like any other morning in the Felix household. It was your responsibility to wake up Abril and Miguelito, as you were the full time nanny, and get them ready for the day. It was the best job you ever had, honestly. You love those two like your own and they were great kids. After the kids were taken to school, you left a two weeks notice letter on Maria’s desk when you returned back to the house.

The rest of the day was anxiety inducing, you spent the majority of your time trying to steer clear from Maria but also trying to complete the chores like organizing Abril’s closet. Eventually, you couldn’t hide from her anymore when Maria managed to have Abril trick you into meeting outside by the pool.

“Gracias mi amor. (Thank you my love)” María smiled at Abril as the little girl practically dragged you outside, knowing that the plan had worked just as she predicted. “Ahora puedes jugar con tu hermanito. Pero no juegan aquí, necesito hablar con tu niñera. (You van go play with your brother now. But you cannot play here, I need to speak with your nanny)”

Abril nodded and before you could make up another excuse, Maria held up your letter.

“¿Qué chingados es esto? (What the fuck is this?)” Maria was never one to beat around the bush, it almost made you regret dropping the notice on Maria’s desk instead of Felix’s.

Felix at least would have accepted it and not confronted you about it. He knew you were replaceable. Maria on the other hand surprised you. At the most you expected a slight sadness but never anger.

“¿Lo leíste? (You read it?)” you cringed, watching Maria’s eyebrows furrow even deeper.

“¡Cómo no! (Of course!)” she noticed you taking a step back before reeling her anger back in, “Perdón, a la mejor estoy un poco confundida. Pense que estabas feliz aqui, cuidando a mis hijos. Fue hace unas pocas semanas cuando me dijiste que estabas la mas feliz que ha sentido en tu vida. ¿Qué cambió? Y no quiero mentiras, quiero la verdad. (Sorry, maybe I’m a bit confused. I thought you were happy here, taking care of my kids. It was just a few weeks ago when you told me that you were the happiest you have ever felt in your life. What changed? And I don’t want to hear your lies, I want the truth.)”

When she asked you that question, you felt your heart beat so fast that you swore even Maria could hear it. You looked at Maria’s face and you knew in that instant that no matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to lie to her. You cared too much about her to lie. Especially in her face when she’s asking for the truth. Even if the truth may scare her or make her despise you, she would have to respect it. She asked so you had to deliver.

You took a deep breath, feeling your eyes starting to water up and causing Maria to give a concerning look. She was about to walk closer to you when you lightly put you hand up to indicate her that you were fine.

“Yo - yo no sé cómo decir esto. Honestamente, no pensé que te lo dir��a, cara a cara pronto así. No estoy segura que puedo hacerlo. Es different pensarlo que decirlo. Creo que podría morir aquí antes de poder decirlo...(I—I don’t know how to say this. Honestly, I didn’t think I would say it, face to face this soon. I’m not sure if I can do it. It’s different thinking it than saying it aloud. I think I could die before I could say it)” Your voice wavered, Maria’s face suddenly blurry from the tears shedding from your eyes at an alarming rate.

It was like all the tears you had refused to shed for months had finally decided to come out now.

“Mija... puedes decirlo. No sé qué es lo que tienes dentro pero tienes que dejarlo salir. Puedo ver que está haciendo más daño solo por estar dentro de ti. Suéltalo, te vas a sentir mejor si lo hagas. (Honey, you can say it. I don’t know what it is inside you but you have to let it out. I can see that it’s doing more bad being inside of you. Let it go, you’ll feel better if you do that)”

You didn’t know how but those words gave you the last needed to push to finally say it.

“Maria, me gustas desmiasado. No tenía idea de que querer a alguien así podría doler tanto. Pensé que enamorarme de alguien sería hermoso como una rosa, pero las espinas me pellizcaron... Si hubiera sabido que enamorarme de ti me haría sentir así, me habría ido antes. Me quedé porque pensé que podría superarlo. Pero no puedo, así que es mejor que me vaya. Te ruego que me dejes ir. (María, I like you too much. I had no idea that liking someone would hurt so much. I thought falling in love with someone would be beautiful like a rose but the thorns pinched me. If I knew that loving you would make me feel this way, I would have left sooner. I stayed longer than I should have because I thought I would get over it. But I can’t, so it’s better if I leave. I beg you to let me leave.)” Your words came out slurred, you weren’t even sure if it was audible through the sobs.

You felt incredibly vulnerable, your vision unclear and your mind foggy. You hadn’t a clue where Maria stood or if she was even there. All you felt was your heart breaking each passing second you heard silence. You just poured out your heart of all the thoughts you harbored for months, did she know you were happy because you were in love with her? Your happiness was just a facade, it was the rose colored glasses that made you think this was love. Love couldn’t possibly feel this cruel and hurtful.

You were about to wipe your tears when you felt a pair of hands cup your face. The thumbs carefully wiped away your tears, allowing for some relief from the waterfalls pouring out of your eyes. You relished in their touch, not knowing how good it was just to be in contact with another person. You were truly touch starved and even their simple brush of your tears was enough to heal some of your deep-seated wounds you possessed. You were broken and it took one unattainable love to make you realize.

“Ya, ya. Suelta todo que tienes dentro de ti. Te vas a sentir mejor cuando todo esto se termine. (Now, now. Let go of everything inside you. You’ll feel much better when all of this is done.)” María whispered, pulling you closer to her and stroking your hair. You shuddered and felt like the tears would never be able to stop. Maria didn’t yell at you like expected, she pitied you. You honestly didn’t know what was worse. You got to be in Maria’s arms but for the wrong reasons.

You’re so stupid, you thought to yourself. You can’t compete with Felix, which you still had unrealized feelings for by the way. He’s the breadwinner and father to her children, you’re just a stupid nanny who fell in love with someone she couldn’t have.

Having your face buried in Maria’s shoulder only made you feel more in love with her in a fucked up away. Her compassion towards you made you fall harder. With this embrace, you could smell the expensive floral and sweet perfume and feel her in a way you could have only imagined before this exchange. It would have probably hurt you less if she pushed you off her and refused to see you again. At least then you would know to move on. This unexpected reaction from Maria has left you confused. This hug seemed too friendly for a simple embrace.

“¡Señora! (Mrs!)” fellow employee called out, a phone in her hand. “Habla Señor Felix! (Mr. Felix is calling!)”

And just like that, the things you thought you could only dream of crumbled as Maria took her hand out of your hair and sighed. Maria turned to the elderly woman, giving a weak smile, “Por favor dígale que no puedo atender el teléfono. Estoy un poco preocupada en este momento. (Please tell him I’m not able to come to the phone. I’m busy at the moment.)”

The older woman nodded, heading back inside as Maria pulled you back in for another warm hug. You tried to make words, feeling your lips tremble every time you attempted to say something. Your mouth felt dry and your head throbbed with pain. You weren’t sure if you would have any tears left after this episode, they were coming all at once.

“Creo que deberíamos entrar a la casa. Tu cara se siente caliente. (I think we should head inside. Your face feels hot.)” María pulled back to examine your face, a worried expression on her own face when she put the back of her hand on your forehead.

You nodded weakly, suddenly remembering you two were talking outside the whole time. You really hoped nobody heard walking by. The future was uncertain now. Maria neither accepted or rejected your two weeks notice and now that she knows that you loved her, the chances of her being comfortable around you were probably slim to none. You couldn’t blame her if she was uncomfortable with this situation, she was married and you worked for her. You also didn’t know if she even liked women.

You didn’t think you did either until you saw Maria for the first time.

Maria wrapped an arm around your shoulder as she lead the way into the house and to your bedroom. Your eyes kept steady to the ground, averting any possible eye contact with anyone who happened to be nearby. The whole walk to your bedroom was so eerie and tense that you wished nothing more than to disappear.

Maria helped you onto your bed and you accepted the comfort of the bed instantly because you had a feeling that the bed was going to be your only companion from now onwards. At least you got to hug her twice, you thought bitterly. To avoid any more conversation, you turned away from Maria and to the wall, hoping she would walk out and leave you be. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself but more so her anymore. You said enough and for that, you felt that you deserved to be excommunicated.

Instead, you felt her sit at the front of the bed.

“Siempre supe que me amabas. (I always knew you loved me)” She sighed loudly, hearing the instant relief washing over her. The fact shocked you, how did she know? When did she find out? Was it that obvious? The questions came faster than the possible answers and it was as if she knew what you thought because immediately after the short silence she said, “No me interrumpas. Has hablado bastante. Ahora es mi turno. (Don’t interrupt me. You’ve talked a lot already. It’s my turn now.)”

You kept quiet, looking at the wall to try to stop the thinking.

“Sé que te estás preguntando cómo lo supe. Creo que lo supe cuando me dijiste que eras feliz hace unas semanas. Sé cuando a alguien le gusta otra persona y lo vi en ti. Traté de no pensar en la posibilidad de que yo te gustara, no quería pensar eso porque no quería verte de manera extraña. También crecí en una casa muy religiosa ... Nunca le he dicho esto a nadie, ni siquiera a Miguel ... pero siempre supe que también me gustaban las chicas. Y por eso, me asusté cuando me dijiste que me amabas. Mi primer pensamiento fue rechazarte ... fingir que esto no sucedió y dejarte ir como pediste. Pero luego recordé cómo me sentí cuando mi mejor amiga me llamó lesbiana sucia...(I know you’re asking yourself how I knew. I found out when you told me you were happy a few weeks ago. I know when someone likes another person and I saw it on your face. I tried not to think about the possibility of you liking me, I didn’t want to view you weirdly. I also grew up in a religious household...I never told anyone this, not even Miguel but I knew from a young age that I also liked girls along with boys. That is why I was scared when you told me you loved me. My first thought was to deny what you said, to pretend it never happened and let you go like you asked. But I began to remember when my best friend called me a dirty lesbian...)” Maria’s voice wavered a bit before she cleared her throat to continue with her little story, “Recuerdo sentirme tan mal conmigo misma. Pensé que mis sentimientos eran repugnantes y eso me hizo dejar esos sentimientos a un lado. No fue hasta que llegaste cuando empecé a recordarlos. (I remember feeling terrible with myself. I thought my feelings were disgusting and that caused me to put my feelings to the side. It’s what until you came into my life that I began to remember them.)”

“M—María... ¿Porqué me estas diciendo esto? (Why are you telling me this?)” your voice cracked, turning to your other side to see her back was facing towards you. “No es necesario que me explique. No sé qué decir ... Has sido amable conmigo en los pocos meses que trabajo aquí. Realmente amo mi trabajo pero no entiendo el sentido de esta conversación. Estoy despedida ... al menos creo que estoy despedida. (You don’t need to explain to me all of this. I don’t know what to say. You’ve been so kind to me in the few months I’ve worked here. I really love my job but I don’t know why you’re telling me all this. I’m fired...at least I think I am fired.)”

Maria turned to you, her face streaming with tears, “No estas despedida. Te lo digo para que cuando empiece a besarte, no te sorprendas. (You are not fired. I am telling you all of this because when I start to kiss you, you won’t be surprised.)”

The words almost didn’t register fast enough as Maria leaned down to kiss you, slowly at first so it didn’t overwhelm you. Once it began to sink in, you kissed back eagerly. You didn’t know if you were dreaming or dead, everything seemed to happen so fast. Never in a million years did you think your feelings would be reciprocated.

Maria’s hand gripped the hair on the back of your head, intending to keep your face in place when she broke the messy kiss to peck at your neck. Even though you two only kissed once, it told you a lot about Maria. Things you suspected but never truly could have known until this moment.

Maria is domineering. She’s the one in control and you were the one to be controlled. You didn’t mind, you were taking anything you could get from her.

Maria was also playful, her free hand was playing with your necklace as she kissed around the exposed skin on you neck and upper chest.

But above all, she was passionate. You were so under her spell and past sanity that you didn’t notice when she unbuttoned your white shirt. Your face flushed as you looked down to see that she had taken off her own top, wondering if this was a signal to take off the rest of your clothes. You fumbled with your hands to reach your back to begin unhooking your bra when she stopped you.

“Creo que deberíamos continuar con los besos. Lo que queremos no puede suceder porque no tenemos suficiente tiempo. No pensé que me pondría cachonda tan rápido.” She smiled as she traced a finger along your collarbone, “Te ves tan hermosa sin camisa puesta, casi no puedo esperar para ver más. (We should continue with only kissing. What we want cannot happen because we don’t have enough time. I didn’t think I would get horny so fast. You look beautiful without a shirt on, I can hardly wait to see more of you).”

You blushed and leaned in to continue making out with her. Maria pulled you onto her lap to straddle her, her hand immediately grabbing your ass. You gave a surprised gasp, making Maria laugh in response. You both kiss each other, your lips feeling swollen when you parted. You pulled away, breathless and laid down on the bed.

“Esto se siente mal. Usted es mi patrona, cuido a los niños... eres una mujer casada. (This feels wrong. You’re my boss, I watch the kids...you’re a married woman).” You began to panic, sitting up instantly in fright when Maria placed her hand on your stomach to push you back down.

“Querida, tengo una pregunta y quiero una respuesta. (Darling, I have a question and I want an answer from you)” Maria turned to you and made sure you two shared eye contact, “Te gusta mi marido, ¿no? (You like my husband, don’t you?)”

You gave her a confused look. Did Maria know all? Had she been spying on you? How does she know that you like Miguel as well? I guess I’m not as secretive as I thought, you thought to yourself. But how can you answer her? What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?

“No no. ¡No pienses! No me gusta cuando haces eso. (No, no. Don’t think about it! I don’t like when you do that.)” Maria shook her head, “Quiero que me des una respuesta honesta. No quiero escuchar una mentira, quiero escuchar la verdad. Usted me puede decir. Realmente me gustaría saber. (I want you to give me an honest answer. I don’t want to hear a lie, I want to hear the truth. You can tell me. I would really like to know.)”

You felt your heart beat faster, suddenly feeling dizzy. You barely realized your dehydration from crying so much earlier.

“Bueno ... parece que ya sabes la respuesta. (Well...it sounds like you already know the answer to your question)” You bit your lip, wiping the slight precipitation on your upper lip.

“Me conoces bien. (You know me well)” Maria gave a wide grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “Quiero oírte decirlo. Quiero escucharlo de tus labios. Si no dices nada, haré que uses tus labios de otras formas. (I want to hear you say it. I want to hear it from your lips. If you don’t say anything, I will have you use your lips in other ways).”

Your eyes widened, “Para mí, eso suena maravilloso. (For me, that sounds wonderful)” Maria shot you an unamused expression, prompting you to finally confess, “Tu esposo también me gusta. Lo siento. No eres solo tú. También es él. Y me hace sentir aún más repugnante. (I like Miguel too. I’m sorry. It’s not just you. It’s him as well. And it makes me feel even more disgusting.)”

Maria wasn’t phased, deciding to lay down next to you finally and looking up at the ceiling, “Tuviste ojos en él desde que llegaste. Pensé que ustedes dos ya habrían dormido juntos antes de esto. Todo el mundo sabe que se acuesta con putas. Supongo que elegí no darme cuenta. Todo estuvo bien hasta que me encontré con esa puta que quedó embarazada de él. (You’ve has eyes on him since you’ve arrived. I thought you two would have already slept together by now. The whole word knows that Miguel sleeps with whores. I guess I chose to be ignorant to the fact. I was fine with pretending it wasn’t an issue until I found the whore he impregnated).”

You gasped but quickly regretting it. You had heard the rumors from other employees but didn’t think there was any truth to them.

“Le di dos opciones. La primera fue abortar al bebé y recibir algo de dinero como compensación por el trauma de perder a un hijo. La segunda era tener el bebé y recibir el dinero suficiente para salir de Guadalajara. Me vale madres que pasará con el bebé o ella, me costó mucho no matar a Miguel cuando me contó lo que pasó. Me avergonzó al hacerme hablar con ella en lugar de hablar con ella él mismo. Para abreviar la historia, eligió el aborto. Por mucho que odié a Miguel en ese momento, todavía amo a ese idiota. Sentí pena por esa mujer que pensó que a Miguel le importaría lo suficiente como para hablar con ella. Miguel apenas se preocupa por nuestros hijos, por eso tenemos una niñera. Le rompió el corazón y el mío al mismo tiempo. Qué hombre. (I gave her two options. The first was to abort the baby and receive money as compensation for the trauma of losing a baby. The second was to have the baby and get enough money to leave Guadalajara. I don’t give a fuck what happened with the baby or her, it took everything to not kill Miguel when he told me what happened. He embarrassed me when he made me talk to her instead of talking to her himself. To make a long story short, she chose the abortion. Although in that moment I hated Miguel, I still love that idiot. I felt terrible for the woman who thought Miguel cared enough to talk to her. Miguel barely cares about our children’s, that’s why we have you. He broke her heart and mine at the same time. What a guy.)”

The two of you laid silent, you looked at her and she up at the ceiling. You noticed a stray tear falling from her eye and you were quick to wipe it away.

“Lo peor de todo es que yo también la odiaba. No porque se acostó con él, sino porque quedó embarazada. ¿Por qué todas las putas quedan embarazadas? Solo pude tener dos hijos, quería uno o dos más. ¿es mucho para preguntar? Dolía sugerir el aborto, pero no soportaba que otra mujer tuviera a su hijo bastardo como recordatorio de su infedilidad. (The worst of all is that I hated her too. I didn’t hate her because she slept with him, but because she got pregnant. Why do all the whores get pregnant? I only had two, I wanted one or two more. That’s all. Is that too much to ask for? It hurt to suggest the abortion but I couldn’t stand another woman having his bastard child. That child would always be a reminder to me if his infidelity)” Maria’s eyes closed to stop the tears and even through non sexual ways, you learned more about Maria.

She was broken. As were you. She was just better at hiding it. You didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, you didn’t think you could cheer her up from admitting to forcing a woman getting an abortion. She needed to get this off her chest.

In your mind, you thought Maria was cruel for giving that woman an ultimatum. Maria may have said she had given the woman two options but it was obvious which one the young woman would take. Even if she was carrying the bastard child of Miguel, that baby deserved a chance to live. The baby did nothing wrong but be conceived. It wasn’t like Maria couldn’t have adopted it, she wanted more children. Maybe this child was the chance for her to have the third child she’s always wanted. What was the difference if the baby came from a different woman? Maria was going to be the mom all the same.

“Ahora sabes más sobre el tipo de hombre que es Félix. Es un lobo a la vista, obtiene lo que quiere. Siempre. Eres joven, amable, pero un poco ingenua, te comerá y te dejará sin nada. Te romperá el alma como si nada. Solo te lastimarás en el proceso. (Now you know what kind of man Felix is. He’s a wolf in plain sight, he gets what he wants. Always. You’re young, loving, but a bit naive. He will eat you up and leave you with nothing. He will break your soul like it was nothing. You’ll just hurt yourself in the process)” Maria stroked your hair, leaving a small kiss on your forehead as she shifted towards you.

You turned to her, cupping her face gently. You felt like you hadn’t been looking at her in the eyes enough so you made sure this time to make a point, “Te amo Maria y si lo que dices es cierto sobre Felix, no lo aceptaré. Solo quiero estar contigo, sea lo que sea que eso signifique. No quiero irme, quiero quedarme aquí y cuidar de los niños. Me preocupo por ellos. (I love you Maria and if what you say about Felix is true, I won’t accept him. I just want to be with you, whatever that entails. I don’t want to go, I want to stay here and take care of the kids. I care for them.)”

“Sé que has estado hablando de el amor todo este tiempo, pero ¿sabes siquiera qué es el amor en realidad? Sé que no has estado con nadie, eres apenas una adulta. ¿cómo sabes de lo que estás hablando? Puedes pensar que me amas, puedes pensar que amas a los niños, incluso puedes pensar que puedes cambiar a Miguel. (I know you’ve been talking about love this whole time but do you even know what real love is? I know you haven’t been with anyone, you’re barely an adult. How do you know what you’re talking about? You can think you love me, the kids, you may even think about being able to change Miguel)” she ran a finger over your bottom lip, smiling softly at how you slightly trembled from the sensation, “No sé si te estoy contando todas las cosas malas que tiene Félix para protegerte o para ser egoísta. No me gusta compartir. Eres tan preciosa que no merece ni siquiera tocar un solo cabello tuyo. Está mal querer tanto a alguien. Pero se siente tan bien. Finalmente entiendo a Félix y por qué se coje a mujeres que no son su esposa. (I don’t know if I’m telling you about Felix to project you or to be selfish. I don’t like to share. You’re just so precious that he doesn’t deserve to even touch a single hair on your head. I finally understand why Felix fucks other women who aren’t his wife.)”

You saw the passion in Maria’s eyes and that let you know that she meant what she was saying. She had reason to believe that maybe you weren’t really in love and that it was just lust. You didn’t want to believe it but with every passing moment, you couldn’t help but fall more deep than before. At first you felt terrible at the idea of betraying her marriage and being the home wrecker but how could you wreck a home that was already on its way to be demolished? Maria just wanted to be loved and you planned on doing just that.

You felt that it was the right time to lean in for another passionate kiss when you heard Miguelito pound on your door.

“¿Bebita, estas en tu cuarto? Necesito ayuda con mi tarea, por favor. Te prometo que no voy a dar lata. (*Nickname*, are you in there? I need help with my homework please. I promise I won’t be difficult.)” He whined, continuing to knock softly in the hopes that gig will respond back.

You smiled softly, instantly getting off the bed and freshening up. You had a job to do and you were momentarily sidetracked. “Si estoy aquí. Estaré allí en un momento. Espero que te mantengas fiel a tu promesa, cariño. (I am in here. I will be there in a second. I hope you can keep your promise, sweetheart)”

As you gave an apologetic glance to Maria, you quickly made yourself presentable and happily helped Miguelito with his homework. Anything to get your mind off of everything that had happened before he interrupted.

You were walking out when you saw Felix in the hallway, walking towards you. You tried your best to seem nonchalant in the hopes he would not stop you but right when you walked next to him, his hand gripped your arm tightly to get you to stop in your tracks.

“¿Sabes dónde está mi esposa? (Do you know where my wife is?”

And that’s it folks. For now. 😋 This series will be dialogue heavy so I apologize in advance. Thank you so much for reading!

#miguel angel felix gallardo #maria elvira #maria elvira de felix #narcos mexico imagine #narcos fanfic

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blitheringmcgonagall · 4 years ago

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All Too Well...

@therealrjlupin sent me an ask to celebrate the reader milestone on ff.net for We Can Be Heroes surprise, surprise asking for angsty Wolfstar!! Then tumblr ate your ask so sorry about that, here it is anyway. This is for you and for @stonecoldhedwig who wrote a very angsty Jily My Heart Is Overcome - very beautiful but so bloody poignant, so this is payback (also for the magnificent fanart for we can be heroes, but that deserves a lot more than this...!)

All Too Well

“Black!”

Sirius felt his heart rate hammer and the blood pounding in his ears as he whirled around to face Snape, his wand in his right hand.

“What the fuck do you want, Snivellus?”

He was constantly on edge, ready to snap, to lose it, since he had run away from home that summer. He called it running away, but it wasn’t. Being thrown out and disowned by your own parents, with nothing but the clothes he had on that day… he had wanted to leave, Merlin yes, he had threatened to leave hundreds of times. But he had stayed. To be near Reggie. To protect his little brother. Physically protect him, certainly, but also to act as a barrier against his parents’ poisonous ideas, to stop them seeping into his immature, innocent, wretchedly gullible psyche. The Potters had taken him in immediately, kindly, enthusiastically, no questions asked.

But this constant worry about Reggie, this guilt for leaving him alone with them? His stupid, pathetic weakness in minding that his parents didn’t love him, this feeling of abandonment? He hated it, hated himself, hated everything, so much. He was irritable as fuck. Always on the offensive, and defensive, high alert, fight or flight. It didn’t help that Mulciber and his mates constantly muttered snide comments under his breath when he passed, loser, a nobody, disowned, nobody wants you. It infuriated him that it bothered him, that his throat had a habit of constricting, his stomach feeling sick every single time. Bastards. He wanted to hurt them, wanted to lash out, so badly. How many times had James and Remus stopped him mid-curse? How many times had he already found himself in Mc Gonagall’s office since the start of term?

Less than two days ago he had narrowly avoided yet another detention, he was ready to send a nasty curse Avery’s way, one of his family’s Black Specials, when Remus had appeared, breathless from running and grabbed hold of his robe and pulled him to the side. Avery had sent a curse his way and Remus had blocked it and deducted points. Once Avery was gone, Sirius had punched the stone wall, viciously, repeatedly.

“Padfoot, stop!” Remus had whispered urgently, still breathing heavily.

“I can’t,” he had whispered back, determined not to break down, hissing in pain as his bloodied knuckles collided with the stone again and again.

“Padfoot,” Remus had said, a look of horror and desperation on his face as he grabbed his hand and brought it up to his mouth.

He had stared in awe, momentarily stupefied.

“Don’t, please,” Remus had murmured gently, kissing his injured knuckles reverently. “I can’t bear it.”

He stood speechless for a moment, watching Remus’ face turn a warm hue.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, exhaling suddenly, their foreheads meeting.

Then they were kissing, almost frenzied, frantic, Remus backing him into the wall whispering his name over and over, all his rage and fears forgotten.

He didn’t know what it meant, but Remus’ face looked so different since then, all lit from within, golden almost. Sliding his long fingers so they intertwined with his own, under the table at breakfast and lunch and dinner. Stealing kisses behind the tapestry outside Charms and behind the greenhouse. Remus seemed to think they were… they were something. He desperately hoped so. He was too frightened to ask, but he went along with it, smirking widely and grinning like a loon every time Remus walked into his line of sight, hoping he looked cocky, arrogant, cool, collected. He did. Remus looked pleased, a warm look in his kind, moss-green eyes, a slight glow on his cheekbones, a glance his way, followed by his teeth biting the side of his lips. He looked smitten, and Sirius could feel himself melt.

“I saw you, with that half-breed, Lupin,” Snape said, quiet but calm.

He saw red, rage flaring in his chest till he couldn’t even see properly, his vision narrowed to just a pair of dark eyes and white face staring at him coldly.

“You’ll regret saying that,” he said, his wand hand raised, trembling.

“Your choice, Black, if you don’t want Lupin to end up in trouble with Bellatrix and her friends, you’ll prove that he and you are not together. Otherwise, he has a target on his back.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Black. Twenty-four hours.” “What the fuck? Why?” he shouted moving forwards with grim satisfaction as he saw Snape’s eyes fill with fear.

“That beast nearly killed me last year, as did you. Call it payback.”

“You bastard!”

His jaw was clenched so tightly, his lips practically closed. He jerked his knee up, without warning, and Snape groaned and doubled over, holding his groin.

“Mr. Black!”

It was Minerva Mc Gonagall, looking at him with concern.

“Follow me, immediately,” she said, motioning towards him as she went to check on the other student and directed him to the Infirmary.

“This behaviour cannot continue, Sirius,” she said.

There was worry in her stern eyes, and she was wringing her hands. He said nothing, clenching and unclenching his jaw and staring ahead.

“I will have to let your-“

Sirius’ breathing hitched and his eyes widened.

“Please, not Mother, she-“ he said.

“The Potters, I will have to let them know,” Minerva said, putting out her hand and squeezing his shoulder. “Mrs. Black will not hear about this.”

He saw her concern and nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Tell them I’m sorry.”

“Tell them yourself, Sirius.”

He felt so guilty for causing them trouble, but perhaps it was for the best, once they realised how fucked up and bad he was, they would get rid of him too, better if that happened now rather than later, when he got too used to Mia’s kindness and Monty’s soothing calmness. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

……………………….

He was a coward. He had waited till the last few hours before the deadline, chain smoking, before finally asking Remus to meet him downstairs in the deserted common room. It was late. He could see Remus stifling a yawn, looking gorgeous in the candlelight, but so tired, and worried. He was always so observant.

“What’s wrong, Pads?” he said, putting his hand on Sirius’ knee and squeezing it gently, sitting opposite him beside the fireplace. “You haven’t been yourself all day.”

He tried to smile, faking everything, but he couldn’t speak.

“This…” he motioned between them, aware his voice was trembling.

“Us?” said Remus.

“There is no us,” he whispered hoarsely.

Remus removed his hand from his knee slowly.

“Oh,” he said softly.

Sirius sent him a tight smile, vacant and empty.

“You know me, I don’t do relationships.”

“I thought… I thought you liked it,” Remus smiled.

He looked hurt though.

“I did,” Sirius whispered.

“It doesn’t have to mean… it doesn’t need to be more than…” Remus whispered, still smiling, a few tears tracking down his right cheek. “I wouldn’t mind if...”

He wanted to scream.

“No, I can’t. Sorry.”

He heard Remus catch his breath and nod slowly, watched as Remus turned away and headed back towards the stairs, stopping when he got to the bannisters.

“You shouldn’t have… you should have told me,” Remus said. “I…”

He looked dignified, and shattered.

Sirius nodded, stiff upper lip, clenched jaw, shoulders so tight they hurt, praying his tears wouldn’t betray him until after Remus left. He could see Remus frowning, as though trying to sense how he was feeling. He turned his back on Remus and gripped the mantlepiece, trying to breathe.

“Padfoot?” Remus asked quietly.

“Go,” he answered, knowing he sounded all wrong, hard and desperate.

He heard Remus sigh, heard desolate footsteps fade as he ascended the spiral staircase, leaving Sirius spiralling downwards. He didn’t deserve Remus anyway, maybe it was for the best.

Swiping furiously at his eyes he picked up his quill and wrote a note.

Snape,

As discussed. Done.

Sirius Black

The ink was smudged, like Prongs’ left-handed notes.

#angsty wolfstar #I hope this is angsty enough bestie #also go read the angsty jily #it killed me!!!!#mind you so did this...

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abybweisse · 4 years ago

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I'm the fanfic anon (I hadn't realized I'd asked as anon) but I've actually been in the fandom just lurking about for 6 years (since I was 13) I've had many fics, most that I wrote when I first got into the fandom. They were popular enough then, but after I came back into the fandom more recently- my fics just haven't been doing as well. I recently orphaned all of my old fics actually, but now the new ones are kinda just... Flopping.

You orphaned all your old fics? So, people maybe just don’t know to associate you with your old stuff and aren’t realizing it’s you now writing your new stuff, or...? Sorry, but I don’t think I’ve ever orphaned my work, so I’m not sure exactly what happens to it all, if it’s orphaned. The closest I’ve come to doing that is the fact I haven’t updated my WordPress “copy” of my main blog here in... ugh. Ages. I started one in late 2018 or early 2019, not knowing what would ultimately happen to Tumblr after the big purge of December 2018, and I haven’t updated since. Um, but I didn’t remove my “name” from any of it, so idk. Did you deactivate a previous account here?

But anyways, the fandom itself has changed over the years, and I can’t even tell how many of my followers are abandoned blogs. Not the deactivated blogs but ones that have just been ignored over the years. Ya know?

A sizable chunk of the fandom seems to have walked away around the time of the huge flashback. Basically when 2ct was confirmed. And there was a lot of fandom drama in Tumblr, Discord, and Facebook around the same time. I’m not sure how my blog survived some of that.... Isn’t all that also around the time of the 2018 purge? So many people just plain gave up on Tumblr, including a lot of the fanfic writers. They went to AO3, WordPress, and other platforms.

Some fans went dormant for a while (or went to other platforms) and have come back — reviving old blogs, using new side blogs, even starting over with new accounts. So... ah... you might just need to give it time, particularly since you also left for a while and came back. We can just call that a hiatus, right? 😊

Being active on your blog is a must, even if it’s largely stuff that’s queued. Me? I’ve blogged almost every day, sometimes several times a day, for these past five years and however many months since I got sucked into the fandom. And not for the follows, either; the manga is basically an obsession of mine, since 2015. 😅

Even so, some of my posts get practically no notes, and I’m not talking about the ones saying I’m going to bed! 😂 The biggest thing for any creator is to get their work out there, even if few people see it. I know I feel better just making a post. Notes? Cool. Reblogs? Awesome. Dead post? Ah, well. At least it’s posted. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Well, good luck with regaining your readership. Maybe people will check out your blog and give a note or a follow? That’s all any blog can hope for, I guess. That it provides something for someone. Sometimes posts just provide enjoyment for their own creators. And, honestly, that’s okay, too.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #off topic slightly #blogging #fanfics #tumblr drama #fandom drama #tumblr purge #fr00tbat #asks #i answer #answered asks #mar 14 2021

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arabhamlet · 4 years ago

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why you should read the heartless divine

hello guys! i haven’t used tumblr in a while, so i hope i tag this correctly, but i really needed to write this post to promote a book i think many, many people will enjoy reading for a number of reasons, and i figured i should give it a shot.

the heartless divine is varsha ravi’s debut novel, self-published last november through amazon. it is a ya fantasy romance inspired by mythology and sangam era india, and you can purchase it as an ebook or as a physical copy on amazon.

i 100% recommend it to anyone who enjoys mythology, reincarnation/soulmates, tragic but tender star-crossed romance (and not in a generic ya way either), or just anything with complex plot, character, and relationships—which, i realize, basically means everyone, but in my defence it is really good and worth a read no matter who you are.

what’s it about?

the heartless divine follows two paralleling narratives. the first is set in the distant past, and follows suri, a princess forced into being an assassin by her warlike family, as she is betrothed to the boy king of a neighbouring land after being assigned the task to kill him once the wedding is complete, only to find her plans going off-kilter when she encounters kiran, a strange prophet who predicts his own incoming death and the catastrophe soon to occur. the second is set in modern-day, and follows a reincarnated suri, with no memories of her past life, who finds her life inexplicably tied to a changed kiran, who she does not remember but who remembers her.

the plot is a bit more complex than this, and this is really just a quick summary, but more than that it’s a story about humans and our relationships to each other, to mortality, and to fate.

i highly recommend it - it can be a little slow to start off with, but once the historical plot starts going i found it pretty much impossible to put down. even though it’s been a few months since i read it, i find myself going back to it pretty much constantly. it’s fantastic both as a ya novel to read for fun, and as something far more complex with so many themes, characters, and dynamics to unpack.

but if you need a bit more encouragement:

why should i read it?

as i mentioned, the plot is incredibly engaging. unlike a lot of ya, as well, the heartless divine is super character-based and has incredibly strong characters in its protagonists. the past storyline also has a running mystery - and the reveal at the end as to who is the real villain definitely caught me off-guard on my first read. the past storyline is also deeply tragic in many ways, hitting you emotionally to great effect, and the climax is absolutely one of the most impactful climaxes of any ya book i’ve ever read—i’m making an effort not to spoil anything while writing this, because the pure emotional punch of the climax should be read completely blind.

ravi’s writing is absolutely gorgeous. she has an incredible command over the written word and wrote some incredibly amazing prose in this book. her writing is at once poetic and also incredibly versatile, fitting into beautiful romantic declarations and sharp dialogue and tense scenes of conflict. i won’t include any massive chunks, but here are some of my favourite lines:

Where does the divinity go, then? he had asked her. She had shrugged. To the sky. That is where all divinity goes after it is dead. But the sky was too far away, and there was not enough left of him, divine or not, to guarantee safe passage on a trip so long.

She had always been afraid of hope, in the same way she figured most people were afraid of black holes. Desire was something that consumed, she knew, and to desire impossibility was to let it consume you entirely. hearts splintered with love and splintered with loss, and to fear one was to fear both—it was safer to resist them both, to draw thick, black demarcations in shining permanent marker, explicit, clear lines that gently reminded her of what could and could not be desired.

“You live as though you are already dead,” she whispered. each word sunk into him, cut through his heart with clean, sharp blades. “You live as though your life is nothing but a prerequisite for death, for true purpose. Have you ever fought to stay alive? Have you ever allowed yourself to think of life as something to love?”

They had the same fine boned face, hollow-cheeked and haunted, the same air of a saint that had burnt away to nothing and held the ashes himself. And yet, they were not the same. It was a twisted, imperfect projection—it was him, but not all of him. This was his savage divinity laid bare.

What were love stories but dreams of worlds where the sun and moon could linger beside one another long enough to learn the language of the other’s heart?

ravi also has an incredible grasp on the themes that she’s writing with. above all, the heartless divine is about humanity and what makes people human—our relationships with each other and with our own place in the world. and in my opinion, she expresses these ideas with great maturity and wisdom.

however, for the most part, the heartless divine’s greatest strength is its characters. kiran is a deeply complex character, a prophet caught between his duty to die as a martyr and his desire to make his own choices and follow what he truly loves. he has a complicated relationship to humanity, but no human more than himself, as he struggles to understand the parameters of his own humanity—the place where his mortality ends and his divinity begins. at first, the kiran of the past and the kiran of the present seem deeply separated from each other, but as the story progresses you begin to understand the tragedy of how kiran became who he is in the modern-day.

at first, suri seems like a typical ya female protagonist, but as the story progresses and she begins to let her guard down a bit more, you really start to see how interesting and complicated she is as a character. she doesn’t believe in gods or fate at the beginning of either storyline, but by the end she slowly starts to accept hope into her heart—ending in two very different ways—and advocates for ignoring fate and following the life you want, desperately searching for the happy ending that you deserve. she also has a deeply captivating character voice, and was, certainly at the beginning, my favourite of the three pov characters.

but my personal favourite character is viro, the primary antagonist of the past plotline (though—no major spoilers—he finally makes an appearance in the modern plotline very close to the end). most people i know who have read the heartless divine feel similarly about viro. ravi makes him a deeply compelling character, fleshing out his motivations and reasoning and in turn writing one of my favourite relationships in the book in his complex brotherly relationship with kiran. i don’t want to spoil much about him, but he is a really interesting character and, though technically the antagonist, is just as compelling as the protagonists.

on the same note, before i talk about the romance in the book, i have to mention viro and kiran’s dynamic, as i feel it drives the past plot in many ways and is deeply interesting. the two are adoptive brothers, and find themselves butting heads almost constantly over their different ideological stances; and though it’s clear they love each other, soon enough you start to worry if love is enough.

onto the romance, and of course i have to talk about suri and kiran, because—how could i not. they’re literal soulmates! two souls who find each other in every lifetime! they’re kindred spirits no matter what, in both past and present, two people who understand each other deeply on a metaphysical level, and no matter what their scenes together were a great joy. they’re a romance where both of them help each other grow, even when surrounded by chaos and catastrophe. here’s one of my favourite lines in the book in case you need some more explanation. this is romance.

“‘Love is dangerous, blinding,’” he quoted, voice soft against her cheeks in an empty semblance of amusement. He pulled back slightly, just enough that she could see the gentleness, the raw warmth in his gaze. The clean lack of regret. “And yet, I see you so clearly.”

it’s perhaps less explicit—but bear in mind this is the first book in a series—but ravi also sets up the dynamic between viro and his guard, companion, and best friend tarak in a way that...is practically impossible not to read as romantic. i won’t spoil it because it is something you have to see in person, but some of the most emotionally charged scenes in the novel deal with their dynamic. here’s another line for good measure. they really said we do it for the girls and the tenderyearning gays that’s it.

Tarak let out a ragged sigh, lost and despairing. Viro reached up and put a hand on his, traced the lines of his fingers. he watched him do it, entranced by the movement and saddened by it as well. Finally, he asked, “If I begged, would you stay?” Viro’s fingers stilled in their movement, suddenly hyper-aware of the way Tarak’s hands shook upon the embroidered fabric of his tunic. as if he couldn’t bear to hold him tighter, as if the mere action would wrench him away.

the world building is also incredibly well done, as is the mythology ravi sets up and the folk stories she tells. also, for good measure, ravi is an indian writer and her story is, as aforementioned, deeply inspired by sangam india. i don’t necessarily have the cultural context to interact with the worldbuilding completely, but from where i stand it’s immensely well done.

the second book in the series is currently being written, and i recommend picking up your copy of the heartless divine soon before the series continues. once again, it’s available on amazon, and here is its page on goodreads and thestorygraph in case you want to add it to your tbr!

also, for good measure, shoot me a message here or on twitter (where i normally am) if you do decide to read it and want to discuss it! for good measure, here’s one of my favourite lines from the book—just as a closing statement.

“I want to hear all of your stories,” she said, fierce as fire. “Every single one. I don’t care whether they have happy endings or not.”

#bookblr #book recommendations #book recs #yalit #ya lit #diverse ya #diverse fantasy #ya recs #booklr #ya recommendations #books #the heartless divine

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