#BUT I DIDN'T WRITE THAT SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oh-snapperss · 1 year ago

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i was tempted to post the whole fic here but here's a section from your work, "ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece":

""I have twenty-two minutes left," Skizz says, as if he were merely telling Etho what time of day it was, or that the chickens were all loose in the base again, or even that Impulse had fallen asleep on the stairs again, and don't wake him up! "And this is my final order."

Skizz fixes Etho with a look, right in the eye, one that Etho knows he'll never escape. The ticking still doesn't stop. "My time will not go to anybody else. TIES gets to final three."

Etho's grip around the axe tightens, but– he turns to face Tango and Impulse. “Tango, you don't– you don't want it?” Please take it. Please. But Tango is shaking his head, resolute. "You need it most, dude."

Skizz turns, and kneels, his face turned to the ground in acceptance. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The axe swings upward, poised in the air above Skizz's neck, and the night falls silent, the air static with energy Etho can't quite place.

(There are Eyes w̸̜̼͗͝͝a̴̦͓̻̋̂t̷̤̰̞́͠c̵̠̯̩͌h̷̫̰̏i̸̱̙̻̊̋͑ň̷̙̠g̵̫̱̊.)

For a moment, the axe hangs there, held up by invisible strands that Etho swears are pulling the axe away from Skizz's neck, tightening by the moment as if to stop him from doing the very thing he knows he'll do at any moment. The axe drops towards Skizz's neck, falters, and pulls back up again before Etho can force his body to go through with it. He grits his teeth, forces his eyes to stay open–to aim. Readjusting his grip, Etho takes one deep breath. Then two. He's wasting his time and he's not even sure why. It's not like he's never killed before, or even used an axe to do it.

“Etho....?”

He doesn't even know who said it.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

(Somewhere in another game, Tango tells Bdubs: He's a survivor, man, that's what he does.)

Etho swings.

Heat travels through his body, up through his hands and arms and then the rest of him. It's so much that he thinks he might explode, or maybe he just has. The world is silent, save for the ringing in his ears, and a thousand years have passed in the agony that tears through him. The entire world is white and gone and it's too much, enough he’s sure he’s going to die with Skizz."

i can't get that phrase out of my head, of "static energy". your writing is wild man, absolutely one of my fav life series authors :] -vm

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA no i'm so glad you asked about this passage OMGGG

link to the fic this section is from

send me a passage of a fic i've written and i'll give detailed commentary on it!

god. okay so this scene was definitely one of the harder things I've written in the year or so I've done fic--I wanna say I actually rewrote this entire part... three, four, five times? I was struggling to find the right way of describing being hit by lightning because. well. I hadn't been hit by lightning so I didn't really know how to write it!

and them a miracle occurred by my own dumbassery and i accidentally electrocuted myself three times in one night with an outlet and that gave me a starting point! ((disclaimer DO NOT DO THIS))

Anyways, my thinking for this paragraph! I really wanted to have the memories of a slightly domestic life within TIES flashing through Etho's mind. I like to think about TIES as fiercely loyal to each other, like some type of almost family. Not like... family family, but you get what I mean. Having that section, that little glimpse into what living in denial about their time running out was something I think added to the overall horror of this chapter.

Skizz fixes Etho with a look, right in the eye, one that Etho knows he'll never escape. The ticking still doesn't stop. "My time will not go to anybody else. TIES gets to final three." Etho's grip around the axe tightens, but– he turns to face Tango and Impulse. “Tango, you don't– you don't want it?” Please take it. Please. But Tango is shaking his head, resolute. "You need it most, dude."

This part was less me and more the actual dialogue of what happened. I must have rewatched that scene from Etho's pov a good thirty times just trying to peruse what I wanted to keep, edit, or add to this scene. The only thing I really, really needed to convey throughout this entire time was the time ticking away and away, because I think as the end approached in LimL, that was something every player came to notice constantly. Tick, tick, tick, tick. That little rhythm, a reminder that their time was fading. A reminder it wasn't too late.

The other thing I think is worth noting about the ticking in this fic--I don't know if you ever heard or watched Unus Annus, but I was a day one watcher of that channel and the first thing I thought of when I saw the concept of LimL was that goddamn ticking clock they had at the start of their videos, counting down. It really affected how I watched the entire series and I wanted that tick tick tick tick to carry through in this.

(i'm gonna put the rest under a read more!)

Skizz turns, and kneels, his face turned to the ground in acceptance. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The axe swings upward, poised in the air above Skizz's neck, and the night falls silent, the air static with energy Etho can't quite place. (There are Eyes w̸̜̼͗͝͝a̴̦͓̻̋̂t̷̤̰̞́͠c̵̠̯̩͌h̷̫̰̏i̸̱̙̻̊̋͑ň̷̙̠g̵̫̱̊.)

Once again, a combination of canon and the tick rhythm.

"Static with energy Etho can't quite place." THIS line right here was where I first started trying to carry in the same feelings as one might have felt when reading The Stories We Tell and the Truths Untold. Being set in the same series, if you've read both fics than you'll know that Etho and the Watchers have just a slight history. My goal here was to carry across that weird energy Etho felt back with Team Canada in this fic. And, if the reader had NOT read the Team Canada fic, which I assumed would be the case since Ethubs is such a more popular thing than Team Canada, they could interpret it as the energy of four men on a platform--two about to watch their best friend die, one about to kill his friend, and the fourth knowing his end is here.

And then the final line with the Watching!! Once again, a throwback to the Team Canada fic, where I not only had used this type of text for the watchers throughout, but had also increased how corrupted the word "watching" was as the fic progressed and Etho got more freaked out.

eeeheheehhehehehe this is literally just building up tension for the most part--racing thoughts, the ticking ongoing, Etho hesitating to do it, which is where the fic differentiates from canon.

“Etho....?” He doesn't even know who said it. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. (Somewhere in another game, Tango tells Bdubs: He's a survivor, man, that's what he does.) Etho swings.

Yeah. yeah... this line. I think the throwback to the Line was important to Etho's character and the study through the rest of the fic. He's a survivor. I'll be interested to see if that continues in Secret Life, because...he's actually been so out of character I could see him not choosing himself in the end. Just once. I dunno! I could be SO wrong. But so much of this fic revolves around Etho and his need to survive vs. the love he has for his friends...I think this sets the stage for the internal conflict coming.

Just as the axe connects with Skizz's neck, thunder cracks overhead, so loud the crack shatters through his bones and shakes the platform. The lightning hits Skizz in the same second, blinding white and in arcs of electricity that dance down Skizz's body, down through his hair and neck, and then up the axe still moving into his neck. It's too late to stop the connection, too fast to stop the lightning from dancing its way up the blade and handle. Instead, it's as if Etho is frozen, mesmerized by the tendrils of pure energy that arc around his hands, before connecting, and– Heat travels through his body, up through his hands and arms and then the rest of him. It's so much that he thinks he might explode, or maybe he just has. The world is silent, save for the ringing in his ears, and a thousand years have passed in the agony that tears through him. The entire world is white and gone and it's too much, enough he’s sure he’s going to die with Skizz."

If you've ever wondered what this sounded like in my head... it sounded like this. I don't know how to explain that most of this section was inspired by a fucking Spiderverse track, but here we are. So much of the build-up and the actual strike was this. If you listen to the song, it builds up and up for the first 34 seconds, and then it stops, and then just. GOES and that's the moment I felt like the axe dropped and the lightning struck, in those moments after. I know that probably sounds like . laurie what the fuck is wrong with you. but the vast majority of my fics are written with song inspiration and soundtrack in mind, and music helps me visualize things such as this i could NEVER write otherwise. If you don't listen to soundtrack or instrumentals, I highly recommend it for writing!

Thanks so much for the section!!! I hope this all makes sense:]

#laurie thoughts #anon #fic segment commentary #etho

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 2 years ago

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CAP! CAP MY MAIN MAN LITERALLY SCREAMING YOU SURE DO FUCKING LOVE CLIFF HANGERS DON'T YOU? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

right. right. ok i'll have you know i made fucking notes as i read because i didn't want to miss out on things to scream about

first of all: writing style? yes it is a bit different (and you seem set on making metaphors about boats, i wonder why... has a certain cephalopod game influenced you?? honestly i loved them and it fits nicely because house boat) but i really liked it, dialogue flowed more naturally (not that it was bad in the slightest at all!) so it was interesting to read :))

NOW ONTO MY FUCKING NOTES!

(there is a fucking lot of text after this so be prepared, the "keep reading" thingy doesn't work in asks i checked)

(as a note, whenever i ask very direct questions i am not expecting too many (or any in some cases) answers cause yknow spoilers, i am just very enthusiastically showing all my thought processes because its fun)

"she could feel her powers growing ever day..." ?!?!??! WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?? is there more side affects to the miraculous? is the fact that she literally has the god of destruction constantly near her constantly and uses his powers nearly every day changing how she views things? is she literally growing more powerful in terms strength? multiple powers eg another thing like cataclysm? there are so many things it could mean-

Juleka was legit so fucking sad? the entire time? she is so overwhelmed :( literally talk to someone about it- please- your entire family knows! aaa :(

"so much more than red glitter and black leather" is... is ladybug glittery? does she sparkle? this doesn't matter but i keep imagining her like bedazzled in rhinestones or something else and losing it a little

aww Alix taught small children how to skate! it was in this chapter! also: she swore in a presentation?? i literally cannot swear in front of a teacher, one time i did by accident in a hallway and she legit ran at me

loved Chloes little moment "Wait- was that mean? It was? Oh. I guess I’m- sorry" that was very cute

ah. to quote directly from my notes: "Gabriel used to be Nathalies "best friend" and Emily was her "dearest companion"? Yeah ok that's pretty gay buckaroo, polyamorous relationship, Nathalie and Gabriel are queer platonic, 200k prequel, angst, unhappy ending, major character death" so that amused me greatly

Crows keep showing up... and for a second i wondered if it was related to Rose and was a reference to OM since yknow rose is a grim and crows are also signs of death, but then they popped up again and i'm now suspicious, either i am reading too far into this or they could mean a few things: first thought was they could be related to Juleka and her powers, similar to how cats are attracted to her? or a few other things but i shall keep those theories to myself (see how you like not knowing cap /j) and wait and see for more

"apparently some floats were gonna appear of Paris's heroes. Ladybug, Rena, Queen Bee, Carapace, the lot" i am choosing to believe this is juleka being an unreliable narrator and not that they (the city) forgot about. because that makes me sad.

i also said: "i've decided alyas blog is on tumblr" and something about how that implies the majority of Paris has a tumblr makes me laugh so much

ha, Alix's "SCATTER!" was hilarious, she would do that at the first opportunity, i too would do so at the first opportunity presented

Juleka kicked Horrificators ass?? as Juleka did this with a guitar case?? ain't that thing supposed to be a massive fucker?? either this is just another case of juleka being stronger than she seems to be or this is related to her ominously put growing powers, its always interesting to see how she deals with fights when she isn't in costume, one of the reasons why the drama club chapters were so interesting because Juleka was fighting (maybe not physically all the time but she was fighting) Adam as herself the entire time

"something about it felt different now..." WHAT DO YOU MEAN? HOW DOES THE TRANSFORMATION NORMALLY FEEL VS NOW GIVE ME MORE the real question is it related to "growing powers" (i keep referencing it because it could mean literally so much or nothing) or her attitude, i don't have a direct quote but this isn't my english exam so its fine, it was implied that Juleka is slightly more accepting about the fact that she literally is Panthera (i mean she also said Panthera isn't a real person but like i digress) so maybe thats why it felt different to transform?

panthera just stealing Reversers transport is so fucking funny, all i could think of was the entire hero gang stealing something like idk RogerCops car and just going off in it

that was my last note because i was too invested in seeing what would happen to write thoughts at the same time

agh literally so hype to see what happens next, this chapter was already very action based and very very good :))

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY YOU ENJOYED!!! THESE NOTES BRING ME SO MUCH JOY!!!!

I love hearing your guys's thoughts, observations, and theories, it brings so much drive and inspiration in my heart. Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

#panthera noire au #sneak a cat

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luvvixu · 5 months ago

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Just wanted to say chapter 5 was amazing but that cliffhanger is so evil😫 how could do this to us

Also quick question was Satoru still seeing Yukie and was planning to keep seeing her before y/n had a premature birth and decided to stop seeing her.

hello, my dear kawaiivillainess98!!

first of all, tysm for your feedback in chapter 5!! i feel happy that you liked my writings aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa 🫶 now let me answer your questions.

question: does satoru still seeing yukie before the reader had a pregnancy complication?

anw, about ur question, it is mentioned in chapter 5 that two weeks before the incident (ya know, the reader was forced to deliver a preterm baby to save both of their lives) yukie actually mentioned that satoru and her was together and was actually fine.

but then the incident strikes and it suddenly made satoru cut her off. yukie was beyond devastated—actually no, the word devastated could not even measure how she felt because she thought they were just fine! so what makes him do that suddenly? yukie still didn't know the answer.

also, yukie was not aware that the reader had given birth. she still in an information that she's just pregnant. and speaking of that, i'm gonna write her reaction to reader's pregnancy soon!

question: does satoru plans to keep seeing yukie if we let's just say, the reader's pregnancy complication did not occur?

the answer is yes. satoru only decided to finally straight himself up after the incident was because of the guilt and conscience he is feeling. the reader actually has a place in his heart, so naturally, satoru couldn't bear seeing the reader and their baby on the verge of losing their lives.

satoru has a quick history about these feelings when he ya know, with geto. so that same goes to the reader.

did i managed to answer your questions? if not, the ask box or comments are still open. so pls do not hesitate to approach me and i will provide you with answers however i can!

but for now, have a nice day, my dear kawaiivillainess98, and thank you sm for checking in!

#luvvixu #💌 — we just got a letter

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bigjbonk · 5 months ago

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HI!!!! I found you through ex machina!!! I would sell my bones for more of it. It is SO GOOD. i understand if you dont plan on writing more of homestead, but please, tell us what was gonna happen next !!!!! (If you had an outline already, if not its ok)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that's a pretty huge compliment, thank you!!!

Homestead, Homestead, Homestead. It isn't that I don't want to write it, really. It's just that the tf2 fixation is dormant at the moment, and has been for a while. And at the time I didn't like writing Melissa lol. I do wanna write more of it, but the issue is that right now I have stuff I wanna do MORE, and that list is always growing. My creative process is kinda just. You know. Hoarding WIPs that I'll "work on later." 😂

I was an even less disciplined writer back then than I am now, so I kind of just had some loosely connected ideas that I would write whenever I ended up feeling like it. So, seeing as at this point the most likely way I'll get back to Homestead is after an Ex Machina rewrite (and who knows if/when I'll get to that), sure, I'll share some ideas I had for Homestead under the readmore. Hypothetical spoilers below.

For starters, Engie is sterile. He and Melissa wanted children, but didn't find out until later that Engie couldn't have kids. It's why there was a room in the house that didn't match the rest, it's why Engie immediately latched onto the idea of caring for Mal (and partially why he didn't always have the best instincts even when his intentions were good; no practice), and it's why Melissa was initially REALLY uncomfortable with the fact that he'd "built a son in all but name."

Speaking of Melissa, she definitely didn't like Mal. She's seen enough of Engie's craft to know it's sound. But this is the first time he's (as far as she knows the situation) BUILT A GUY. Inspired by a coworker or not, that's weird. That might even make it weirder. It doesn't help that she barely gets to see her husband, and now he's brought home what might as well be his artificial kid, and barely pays her any mind because he's so set on advancing the robot's AI and teaching it ABCs. Melissa wouldn't resort to outright sabotage, because she loves her husband more than life itself, but she DOES inadvertently start a petty rivalry with Mal (if a slightly lopsided one) because frankly, she WOULD prefer that darned robot gone. Even if she wouldn't overtly say so.

I was kind of hoping for her and Mal to eventually warm up to each other, but considering Melissa's visceral distrust, and Mal's tendency to be either terrified or vindictive when wronged, to this day I'm not sure what would have spurred them to make up. I think I was just gonna keep writing as I go until an idea came up that kinda felt right.

I'm pretty sure that was it for actual plot stuff. There wasn't a whole bunch, seeing as Homestead was meant as a sort of drabble collection anyway, with a string of AU canon to tie them together. But here's some other random ideas I had for themes and chapters and stuff!

Mal really would find a horse. It wouldn't be HIS horse, but it would be a big enough horse for him to hop on and then IMMEDIATELY realize he didn't know how to ride one. No horses would be harmed in the making of that chapter.

Mal learning about sign language, and wanting to learn it. It would be difficult, seeing as he has three fused fingers and a face that can't emote, but it's close enough to what he and M-146 did that he would want to try.

Engie upgrading Mal's pattern recognition software so that it could run fast enough for him to enjoyably watch cartoons, simply because it bothered Mal that he couldn't make anything out in animated material. He would immediately swear off almost all of it for a variety of reasons (he ends up not really liking slapstick or fantasy violence, for starters), but he would quickly become hooked on shows like Scooby Doo whenever his cooking show wasn't on.

Engie would also work on de-noising his speaker system because Scout would call sometimes, and talking to a robot whose voice is 80% grain is a nightmare over the phone.

Speaking of Scout calling, Engie tended to always get surprised immediately after a call because Mal would have learned like 20 new words, and would have more varied intonation for words he already had. By the time the fic ended, Mal would have been capable of nearly flawless speech, and his intonation and even accent would become startlingly different from Scout's. And no, Engie would never fully get used to it. XD

There was gonna be a chapter of July 4th. That was uhhhhhhhhh gonna be how Engie learned Mal had pretty severe PTSD. This would have led to some newfound understanding of Mal's prior behavior, and that awareness would have in turn led to better management of— and workarounds to— Mal's anxiety. Not using certain power tools in his vicinity, for example, or slowly introducing him to stimuli that he found stressful in other contexts. (I'm no expert in how PTSD is managed, and at that age I DEFINITELY wasn't, so like, I would inform readers not to take my approach as like, a PTSD tutorial fjdkdjddhdj)

Once Mal had the words for it, he would reveal his favorite colors were yellow and green. He wouldn't want to be repainted, but he WOULD start occasionally wearing clothes about it.

Mal likes watching Engie work, but should NEVER be expected to help beyond handing him tools. (Engie learns why after the July 4th incident, when Mal has the words to share some of his backstory. Which got loosely addressed in a side fic because I literally retconned his origin like halfway through Ex Machina lol whoops)

I toyed with the idea of Mal making friends so that he wasn't 100% dependent on Engie at all times forever and ever. But I never came up with anyone, nor the circumstances for how he would even meet them when he barely gets to leave the house.

Mal eventually learns he likes to draw. He's not good at it by any stretch of the word, but he likes it.

Anything else I could put here would be me coming up with modern ideas, but these were some of the thoughts and themes I had in mind when I was first writing Homestead. Or at least the ones I could remember; there's a notebook somewhere that had a few ideas listed, but I have no clue where that is lol.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 engineer #mann vs machine #ex machina #homestead #fanfiction #homestead spoilers

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henrioo · 1 year ago

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Hey friend! Haven’t heard from you in a while I hope things are okay❤️

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YOU'RE SO CUTE LIKE YOU'RE ALWAYS HERE TALKING TO ME AND TEXTING ME AND I JUST REALIZED I DIDN'T FOLLOW YOU AND I WAS SO SAD

BUT NOW I FOLLOWED AND LET'S BE FRIENDS WITH VDD SEE, TALK TO ME WHENEVER YOU WANT I LOVE YOU YOU ARE SO CUTE

I really didn't think anyone would notice my disappearance, but I'm kind of moved and glad someone noticed, I really realized that there are a lot of people who liked me and my stories here and that makes me very happy

I was going through some difficult times, I was already in one for a long time but then I had a huge relapse and I couldn't open anything else, I didn't even open Tumblr for a month

But now I'm more excited and determined to get over it and get out, so I'm going to strive to get back to being active here and also getting back to writing.

Thanks for the support, you are really cute

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omaskit · 6 months ago

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Challenge Log Session 2 A.k.a H'aanit Hell

Challenge Rules Here

Found creatures not weak to knife or axe; we're fucked.

Holy shit they're weak to fire thank god.

left for five days bc irl stuff lol

I feel bad for the girl trying to be Z'aanta's favorite. Girly pop he already has a favorite.

Into the box theri goes.

I love H'aanit and Z'aanta's interactions. It's so sweet and well written. You immidently see how important they are to each other. <3

Maybe it's just that H'aanit is made for breaking but her dungeon is surprisingly easy. My only problem is that she's not leveling fast enough.

Oops, went into H'annit's boss without grabbing a skill. Eh, it should be fine -Looks away for one second- and she's dead. Huh.

The boss difficulty increases with order... fuck.

YOU CAN GRIND ENEMIES FOR ITEMS???

take 2

NO MEEP YOU DON'T HEAL ALFYN!!!

Take three lets go

MY MEEP HAS BETRAYED ME YET AGAIN

WE LIVE THESES!!!

We don't live these.

Take 4: Pray to the rng gods

Bro one shots H'aanit with one attack

BACK TO THE GRIND!

Take 5: we level 8

SHE STILL GOT ONE SHOT DX

I miss shops

Take 6: okay

We gambling! We Gambling!

We gamble and we lose! We gamble and we lose!

Take 7: Please die this time

Take 8: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That was the wrong move

Take 9: I was supposed to do Ophilia this session

5 seconds. H'annit died in 5 seconds.

Alfyn is level 12. We've done two bosses.

I've had sleep and meranign, lets go.

Take 10: level 10

Take 11: we at 600 health and still die

this feels like slow death

Take 12: Don't use rampage don't use rampage

FUCK!

Take 13: Did you know you can see the boss sprite in the overworld before entering the battle cutscene? cool

Take 14: Well okay

Fuck I healed Alfyn

Take 15: Y'all should listen to MILGRAM it's good.

Lowkey forgot the boy counters

Take 16: Let's not be dumb

I HATE RAMPAGE

Take 17: I already fucked it up

Take 18: XP

Take 19: Heavy sigh

Take 20: Might break my rules and buy some grapes

Take 21: 21st times the charm!

Take 22: If this doesn't work I'm buying grapes.

We're buying grapes

Take 23: We now have 20 grapes

Take 24: I forgot to buy the grapes

I am out of healing items

Take 25: don't forget the healing items

Take 26: I did not expect this boss to take this long

Take 27: I didn't pay attention

Take 28: T_T

Take 29: blep

Take 30: made a stupid mistake on my part

Take 31: I've been swapping from writing the flavor text before the fight and writing it after and I think it's pretty confusing.

Take 32: if we go to 35 i'm letting Alfyn fight.

Take 33: I used the wrong move.

Take 34: It's times like these were I remind myself the point of this challenge is to have fun. If I'm not having fun I need to change things up.

Take 35: Alfyn in play

Alfyn does less damage then h'aanit! I didn't expect that.

OLIVES OF LIFE!!!! HOW I MISS YOU!

How much damage does the boss have?

IT'S FINNALY DEAD!!

Session over. I'm enjoying my day. Enjoy yourselves.

#octopath traveler #gaming challenge #octo traveler 1 quest log

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divine-knight-hand · 1 year ago

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Unwinding with this after burning myself out today was probably the best choice I could have made today because OMG SARAH OMG I ALMOST DIED READING THIS I'M SCREETCHING OMGGGGG THIS WAS AMAZING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 😆

“I yield, darling. I yield to you,” he says quietly.

THE SCREAM I SCRUMPT WHEN I READ THISIJWICBUEIWPDUEHDOJHUXWQPXUWQHBIWLDIQPL 😭💕

Those firm thighs are tucked beneath him and spread wide, and he’s folded his hands behind his back without having to be told.

STOP! I'M TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING HEART PALPATATIONS! 😩

Loki keens and attempts to roll his hips into your hand, desperate for more friction. “My beautiful Asgardian whore.”

The desperation? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! IlovehimIlovehimIlovehimIlovehimIlovehimsomuchomgggggg!!! He really is a beautiful little Asgardian whore~ 🥺💕

You expect the first flint of defiance to show, but he obediently bends his head to take the band of your underwear between his teeth, all while never taking his gaze off yours.

I didn't have breathing problems before, but after reading this, I might. 😩

“Please…please, darling…have mercy. I’ve been good…please…I need you.”

And I think I need a cold shower, because this begging is immaculate. 🥵

I know you said you were going to try to write more for Kinktober, but if this ends up being your last piece, then way to end with a bang (no pun intended)! I loved every second of this. Absolutely devoured every word. Also, it made me go from feeling like a burnt-out vegetable to kind of alive again, so it has to be really good! You infused it with, like, magical rejuvinating powers. Hehehe! 🤭

Thank you for sharing this absolute masterpiece of a work. This was absolutely amazing! You know, in case I didn't say that enough. 😅

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞!𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Let me submit to you.”

Loki’s plea is soft against your lips, it’s little more than a whisper and almost lost amidst a heavy haze of unbroken kisses. You’re breathless in their wake - drunk and warm and so dazed from his affections that you can only manage a questioning “hmm?” while you attempt to pull him closer.

He allows it but keeps his lips frustratingly out of reach. A whine tumbles pitifully from yours because the taste of him still lingers on your tongue like salty summer air. You want to drown in this man, but he only rests his forehead against yours. You feel his hands curl around your hips and he breathes in as though readying himself for what he’s about to say.

It makes your heart flutter, though with excitement or apprehension, you aren’t really sure.

“I yield, darling. I yield to you,” he says quietly. His hands squeeze your hips at the same time his thumbs begin to trace circles on the exposed skin of your stomach.

A trail of goosebumps erupts in the wake of his touch and, at first, you think it’s another one of his tricks. Loki’s always been the dominant one and, although your own dominant side has lived quietly inside you, you hadn’t believed a submissive one lived within him.

But when you meet his eyes - those beautiful green eyes that you would know anywhere - you know that he’s never meant anything more. He’s yearning to give up control and it causes something molten to stir to life in the pit of your stomach.

How many times have you imagined how sweet it would sound to hear Loki begging? Or how beautiful he would look on his knees before you? How often have you imagined his pleasure being in your hands and what you would have him do to earn it? The answer is too many to count.

And now he’s offering it up to you entirely of his own accord.

It’s both the fulfilment of a fantasy and the deepest expression of trust.

It’s something you can’t possibly deny him.

You hesitate briefly, but only because you don’t know where to start with him. You’ve imagined this scenario so many times - how you could coax him into admitting he wanted to be dominated and the heady feeling of the power balance shifting - but now that he’s offered it up to you freely, you have no idea what to do. Loki notices your hesitance - of course he does - and gives your hips another light squeeze.

“Please, darling.” He raises his eyes to yours and the trust shining out of them almost takes your breath away.

He trusts you with this, with this part of that you know few have ever seen. He trusts you enough to submit his body to you with certainty that you won’t hurt him. He trusts you.

You press one last lingering kiss to his lips - a “thank you for trusting me” and a promise that he’s safe - and step back from his embrace. “Strip, and get on your knees.” Your voice is steadier than you imagined, so much so that you feel yourself easily slipping into the role of dominant. In front of you, Loki’s lips twitch and you see him raise a hand to dissolve his clothing in a haze of green. “No.” You stop him. “No magic. Strip.”

His eyes blaze fiercely as they catch yours - it’s unmistakable arousal at how you’re the one taking control. “As my Queen commands,” he replies. His voice is smooth as silk as it wraps around you, but there’s something else colouring his words tonight.

It takes only a moment for you to pin it as obedience.

Appreciatively, you watch him pull his sweater over his head. It’s a mundane action, but one that Loki can easily make look elegant. Piece by piece his abs and stomach are bared before you, and your eyes follow hungrily along all the way to the planes of his chiseled chest. The man is a word of art.

And he’s yours.

Loki’s gaze never breaks from yours as his fingers move down to unbutton his jeans, barely even blinking as he pushes them off and tosses them to the side. He repeats the action with his boxers until he’s fully nude before you.

And already halfway hard.

You’ve seen him like this a million times before, but you can’t help but drink him in. From his muscled calves all the way to the light smattering of hair on his chest. “Beautiful,” you can’t help but murmur. “Now, kneel.”

Part of you expects Loki to be brat, expects a small dose of resistance despite how badly he wants this, but he folds easily to his knees the moment the command leaves your lips. God, he looks exquisite. Those firm thighs are tucked beneath him and spread wide, and he’s folded his hands behind his back without having to be told.

The perfect picture of submission.

“Good boy.” They’re two small words, but you catch the small twitch of Loki’s cock as you speak. Your prince, it seems, likes to be praised.

Wordlessly, you circle him. He kneels up a little straighter and you feel the suspense rolling off him in waves. Oh, you’re going to have so much fun with him.

“What should I do to you, hmm?” you ask softly, stopping behind him to drop a kiss to the top of his head while your hands rest on his shoulders. “Should I edge you until you’re begging? Should I make you watch as I make myself cum? Should I use that whip that you enjoy using on me so much?”

You trail your fingers softly over his shoulders and he shivers beneath your touch. “Whatever pleases you, my Queen. I am at your service,” he answers almost instantly, surprising you with how deep his submissiveness runs.

It sparks an idea in you, though.

“Mmm, yes you are,” you say, dropping another kiss to his head and moving to stand in front of him. Gently, you cup his flushed cheeks until those beautiful eyes are peering up at you. “Colour?”

“Green,” he answers quickly.

“Safeword?”

“Red.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, feeling him press into the palm of your hand. He knows he’s safe. “Good boy,” you praise him with a last kiss to his forehead.

His eyes bore into your back as you take the few steps toward the large chest beneath the window that houses all your toys. You make a show of sifting through the contents, noisily moving around various vibes and clamps and pieces of plastic until you know the waiting is driving him insane. As you expect, he’s staring at you intently when you straighten and turn, but his eyes immediately drop to the three items you’re holding in your hands.

A length of rope, a collar, and a metal leash.

His cock twitches and he licks his lips.

“Excited by a little rope?” you tease, coming back to kneel behind him. “I hadn’t realised you were such a whore.” You loop the rope around his wrists just as a quiet moan escapes him. You grin. “Oh, I see,” you purr, leaning in to nip at his neck. “You like being my whore.”

There’s a catch in his breathing and he briefly sways on his knees. How badly you wish you could see the fantasy playing out behind his eyes. “Y-yes,” he answers huskily. It’s followed quickly by a deep, satisfied moan when you again nip at his neck.

You finish securing the first knot around his wrists and let your hand snake around his hips to circle his cock. Loki reacts with a broken cry of pleasure at your touch, but you stroke him slowly, languidly, with only enough pressure to tease.

“My pretty prince,” you murmur softly, running your tongue over the broken line of bites decorating his neck. Loki keens and attempts to roll his hips into your hand, desperate for more friction. “My beautiful Asgardian whore.”

You give him four firm strokes, enough that his chest begins to heave and black curls dance along his back. “Please…darling…please…I need…,” he whimpers.

“What is it you want, my love?” you taunt him. “Do you want to cum?”

He nods eagerly, sending more curls spilling down his back. “Yes…please, darling.”

“Too bad,” you say simply and remove your hand from his cock. Loki responds with something between a groan and a sob, and you watch his fingers curl with frustration against his back. “You didn’t think I would make it that easy for you, did you?”

Between his deep, steadying breaths, you swear you hear a muttered “minx.”

“Careful,” you whisper quietly into his ear. “I’m the one in charge tonight, remember? Are you going to be a good boy? Or, do I need to think of a way to punish you?”

He’s silent for a moment, likely weighing up his options, so you give his cock another swift stroke. “No!” he shouts, whether in fear or at the sudden pulse of pleasure you aren’t sure. “I’ll be good!”

You release his cock, but hum approvingly into his neck, breathing in the scent of him. “Good,” you say simply, and place another sharp bite just above his pulse point.

You hear his shaky inhale and feel him shudder as you lean back. He doesn’t move an inch while you wind the rope easily around his arms in an intricate pattern of loops, doesn’t even test the strength of the binding when you bring it up over his elbows. He’s completely immobilised, completely at your mercy, and trusting you completely with his body.

Your good boy.

With a final check that he can wriggle his fingers, you move to stand in front of him again. Loki’s face is flushed pink with arousal and his eyes are dancing with anticipation. They flick expectantly between your face and the collar held in your hands, almost as if he’s begging you to place it around his neck.

You realise then that he wants this. He wants the physical reminder that he’s yours. He needs it, needs the assurance it brings that someone loves him enough to want him wholly, that someone desires him enough to claim his body as theirs.

He craves this level of submission.

With one hand you brush some stray curls away from his face, allowing yourself a second to just enjoy the softness of his hair. “Who do you belong to, my love?” you murmur softly while unclapsing the collar.

Loki is instantly angling his head to grant you access, eager - and almost impatient - to have the cool leather wrap around his neck. “You, my Queen. Only you,” he breathes out, and you hear his quiet groan when you snap the collar closed.

You cup his cheek lovingly in the palm of your hand. “Are you going to be good for me?”

Loki nods eagerly. “Yes.”

You run the pad of your thumb over his flushed cheek. “Good, because only good boys get their reward,” you tell him sweetly and attach the leash to the clip on his collar.

With the other end in hand, you back towards the bed and perch on the edge, ensuring to spread your legs obscenely wide. Loki barely blinks as you flip your skirt up and dip your fingers below the band of your underwear, and you make sure to exaggerate how good your own fingers feel.

You moan and arch your back; you throw your head back on your shoulders; you dig your grip into the bed covers between your free hand, which only pulls the leash around Loki’s neck tighter.

For the briefest of moments, you’re so lost to chasing your own pleasure that you forget about the god on his knees for you. It’s the quiet clink of metal that pulls you back - a sign of Loki’s restlessness and desperation - and you open your eyes to look at him with a lazy smirk.

“Something wrong?” you tease him, lazily circling your clit with a single finger.

Something close to a whine falls from his lips, and you can see the desperation burning in his eyes. “Please, my Queen,” Loki begs. You refuse to believe there’s any sound sweeter than his begging.

“Please, what? What do you want, my love?” Your voice is soft and sweet as honey. You know you’re playing a dangerous game - one that you’ll likely pay for in the very near future - but you can’t pass up the chance to play this game with him.

After all, he’s played it with you so many times before.

There’s another quiet clink of the leash as he shifts on his knees, but he doesn’t dare move without your permission. “I want to fuck you. Please, darling,” he pleads, the rough edge to his voice betraying just how badly he wants to fuck you.

You answer with a click of your tongue. “Oh, my love, why didn’t you say so?” Your words are taunting as you wrap the cold metal of the leash around your hand, tugging it to encourage him to shuffle toward you on his knees.

The sight is sinful - this Asgardian god who refused to kneel for anyone is naked, bound, and collared before you, and shuffling on his knees because you’ve told him to.

It sends a rush of power shooting straight to your head.

You continue to pull gently at his leash until his head is between your spread thighs. Loki’s eyes are alight and blazing with hunger, but he goes still the second you let your hand fall back on the mattress. He’s desperate - a quick glance down confirms it - but he won’t move an inch with your permission.

“Go on, then. Fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours. They do call you silvertongue, don’t they?” you say sweetly.

You expect the first flint of defiance to show, but he obediently bends his head to take the band of your underwear between his teeth, all while never taking his gaze off yours.

You help him only briefly by lifting your hips from the bed to allow him to drag the thin scrap of lace over your thighs. The soft nudge of his nose against your skin has your pussy clenching with need, and it’s enough to make you bite back a groan.

It never fails to amaze you how he can make something so small feel so good.

It doesn’t take long before Loki has dragged your underwear down your legs, though not without pressing a lopsided kiss to the bend of your knee. Once he tosses them carelessly to the side, he’s all too quickly bending back ravenously toward your cunt, but you stop him with a firm hand against his head.

“You have five minutes to make me cum,” you tell him simply. “If you don’t, then you don’t get your reward. Understood?”

In the brief silence that follows, you’re sure that this is where he’ll push back. You wait for the shimmer of green that will release him from his restraints and send you slamming back against the mattress.

But you were wrong.

“Yes, my Queen,” he answers huskily.

Your lips twist into a satisfied smile. “Good boy,” you say slowly, using the leash to steer him toward your throbbing cunt.

A strangled groan tumbles from you the second you feel the wet warmth of his tongue because there’s no feeling comparable to that of this god worshipping you with his mouth. Every firm press of his tongue against you is a sacred prayer, every latch of his lips is a hymn of adoration.

Tonight, he cares only for you and your pleasure, even if it means the denial of his own.

His name is rolling easily off your tongue as the first sparks of your orgasm begin to shoot through you. He’s sinfully talented with that tongue, but you know it’s the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Almost of its own accord your hand tangles in his hair, anchoring him firmly against you as he slips his tongue inside.

You swear you die right there on the bed.

All at once every nerve ending in your body is alive, but you feel yourself go almost boneless at the same time. He feels so good - so gloriously good - that you can longer sit up straight on the bed. You fall back against the mattress with a soft thump, feeling Loki’s proud grin against your cunt when you begin to grind against his face.

“Fuck, Loki! Please! Just like that!” you encourage him breathlessly. His tongue is lapping firmly along your cunt and over your clit, making stars begin to dance at the edge of your vision.

Your pleasure is his driving force, his end goal, and all it takes is a few more swipes of his tongue before the first powerful waves of your orgasm begin to roll over you like a tsunami. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s overpowering, seemingly endless, and you can feel it all the way down to your toes.

Loki makes sure of that.

He doesn’t ease off for a second, even when your cries of his name melt into sharp little pants of pleasure. Even then, he still uses that skilled tongue to guide you seamlessly through the aftershocks of your climax.

You’re certain you could come again easily, but the wet warmth of Loki’s mouth is suddenly gone and you fight the urge to beg him for more.

You’re the one in control, afterall.

Wordlessly, you prop yourself up on your elbows, taking in the sight of Loki still kneeling between your thighs. His cheeks are brilliantly pink and his lips are still shining with your essence. Beneath some stay curls, you see undisguised pride burning in his eyes.

“Three minutes, my Queen,” he says, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips.

It would be all too easy for him to tip the scales in his own favour, to pluck the power easily from your hands.

But that won’t do.

You sit up in one fluid movement to grasp hold of the leash right where it clips to his collar, delighting in the momentary widening of his eyes. “Were you keeping count, my little whore?” you taunt him sweetly, letting a hand float to his cock. He closes his eyes and groans when you begin to slowly, lazily, stroke him. “Or, maybe, you’re just feeling a little needy tonight? Which is it, hmm?”

Loki tries to speak - you can see his answer dancing on the tip of his tongue - but with your hand still stroking his cock he can only mouth wordlessly. You grant him a second of enjoying the waifish tendrils of pleasure that are curling around him, but when he still doesn’t answer and his eyes begin to flutter closed, you squeeze him lightly, to which he answers with a shout.

“Answer me, sweet,” you warn him.

Loki inhales deeply, steadying himself. “I…fuck…I need you, my Queen….ugh…please!” he pleads when you run your thumb teasingly around the sensitive head of his cock.

You smirk as he groans, but don’t cease in the torment. “Mmm, you sound so pretty when you beg. Keep going, and I might give you your reward.”

He releases a huff of frustration, but you know he’s too far gone now. You have him exactly where you want him. “Please…please, darling…have mercy. I’ve been good…please…I need you.”

Those big eyes are peering up at you again, soft and desperate and begging for release. While you would relish teasing him for hours, you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. You release his cock - and he whines pitifully when you do - but relief flashes joyfully in his eyes when you use the leash to coax him to his feet.

“I believe you. That looks rather uncomfortable,” you say, nodding to his cock and shuffling backward on the bed. “What if I’m not finished with you, though?” you continue to taunt him, guiding him onto the mattress until he’s kneeling between your spread legs.

“Darling, please.” His voice is throaty and rough.

He’s so beautiful like this. Restrained and desperate and begging you for release. It’s the only aphrodisiac you need and you’re now determined that he’ll be submitting to you more once tonight is over.

Your pretty, desperate prince.

His gaze is hungry as it runs over you, even though you’re still partially closed and he’s taken you to bed more times than you can count.

He can never get enough of you.

You pretend not to hear his pleading and settle back against the pillows with a contented hum. It’s impossible to do anything but drink him in as you lie there - the taut muscles of his stomach, the broad chest, the way his black curls fall almost effortlessly around his shoulders in a midnight halo. He’s perfection.

You see the small twitch of his shoulders as you admire him, and you can almost feel the unspoken plea burning off him. “Remove the rope, my love,” you tell him softly.

In a shimmer of green it’s gone, but he still keeps his hands folded obediently behind his back - ever the perfect picture of submission to his queen.

“Such a good boy for me,” you purr, resting your hands on his forearms. “I’m very proud of you, my love. You’ve done so well tonight.”

Loki’s chest puffs out with pride and you see the fresh dusting of pink that paints his pale cheeks.

Wordlessly, you guide his hands from behind his back to rest them on your sides. His fingers twitch impatiently against the fabric of your shirt, desperate to feel your bare skin beneath his. “Undress me,” you whisper, stroking his arms with the pads of your thumbs.

It’s like the strike of a match.

Long, elegant fingers eagerly hook into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it easily off your hips and down your legs. The cool air washes refreshingly over you, but it quells the flames of desire for only a second. Loki’s large hands are on every inch of bare skin that he can find, as though this is both the first and last time he’ll ever touch you, as though he doesn’t already know every inch of you by heart.

Hungry hands slip easily beneath your shirt, quickly making short work of both it and your bra. You hear the quiet rustle as they’re tossed to the side with the rest of your clothing.

He takes a moment to marvel at you, drinking you in like you’re the finest piece of Asgardian art. You watch his eyes darken as they rake over you appreciatively, and you fight not to shiver under the intensity of his gaze.

“Norns, you are beautiful,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

A cool hand finds your breast while he trails a broken line of kisses along your neck and over your collarbone. His lips are hungry and frantic and, mixed with his fingers twisting and pulling at your nipple, it doesn’t take long until you’re arching into his touch. You’re so submerged between the waves of his affections that you only just register his unbroken chorus of “beautiful thing…enchanting creature…darling girl.”

Love and lust for this man mix deliriously in your heart, becoming so overwhelming that you can’t help but greedily pull his lips to yours. The kiss is feverish and passionate like you’ll never get another chance to kiss him again. Loki responds eagerly, moulding his body to yours. You feel cool fingers curl around your knee to place it around his waist, and when his lips break away from yours, you can’t help but to whine.

“Please, darling,” he pants breathlessly against your lips. “Please let me love you.”

Instantly, any half formed plans you had to keep teasing him fade away like smoke in the wind.

You tangle a hand into his mess of curls to pull him in for another blistering kiss, and at the same time, you lock your ankles across his back. “Love me, Loki.”

His cock is already nudging at your entrance when you press your heels into his back, silently coaxing him forward. Loki doesn’t say a word, but his eyes don’t leave yours as he slowly eases himself inside you until you can take no more of him. Despite the many times you’ve taken him before, you’re always left breathless at how good he feels inside you.

Instinctively, you clench around him, pulling a hiss from between bared teeth. “You are perfect,” he groans and rests his forehead against yours. “My perfect girl.”

He rolls his hips against yours in a slow, deep thrust that sends your eyes rolling in your head. He does it again, and again, until you’re sure you’ll draw blood with how deeply you’re gripping his shoulders.

“Loki…ah!....more,” you plead with a shout when his cock brushes against that sweet spot deep inside you.

His lips press firmly against your flushed cheek. “Anything my queen commands,” he rasps in your ear.

His thrusts pick up speed until you can feel him in your very soul. Warmth begins to blossom like a new rose in your core as he expertly builds you towards your second orgasm, groaning and panting deliciously in your ear while he chases his own high. The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter with each thrust, and all you know right now is Loki.

The feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. He’s all you’ll ever need.

“Darling…darling, I’m close…please,” he whimpers in your ear.

You’re teetering right on the edge, ready to tumble blindly into bliss. “Come. Come for me, my love,” you tell him hoarsely.

He barely lasts a minute.

Neither do you.

Loki empties himself inside you with a symphony of groans and curses, slipping into some ancient language when you clamp down around him and dig your nails into his shoulder and scalp - deaf and blind in the tsunami of your own release. He drowns you so deeply in pleasure that you’re not sure you’ll ever surface.

You’re not sure you ever want to. This man has given you every part of himself, he trusts you so wholly and so deeply that he’s felt safe enough to submit to you. Gods, you love him so much.

He chases his pleasure ruthlessly, growling deep in his throat when you twist your fingers into his hair. “Good boy. My good boy,” you praise him softly as his thrusts eventually become sloppy and erratic.

His warm breath hits the crook of your neck while he comes down from his high, completely spent. You cradle his head and turn yours to press a kiss to his temple, feeling him smile against you when you do.

“You did so well, my darling,” you whisper in his ear, twisting some stray curls around your fingers.

Loki lifts his head to peer down at you, looking close to drunk in the aftermath of his orgasm. He kisses you deeply as his hands slide to rest on your hips, pulling back to grin at you so wolfishly that your stomach flips in anticipation.

In a shimmer of green, the collar and leash disappear into the air. “Oh, darling, I’m not finished yet.”

You return his smirk with one of your own. “I should like to think not.”

#knightly reads

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metalmaul · 1 year ago

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um. ummm.... I'm having some big feelings about 1990s rock music. so that's what this is. involves a guy who died. and songs he wrote. and songs that were written about him. not being normal about this actually not having a normal one just so you are aware just so you know. this meme about it.

i'm having such a moment about chloe dancer / crown of thorns by mother love bone aaaaAAAAA YELLING BARKING SCREAMING GNAWING......... there's such a sad story behind this song and the fate of its vocalist/writer and i... want to write out a whole post about that. as well as temple of the dog. properly. due to the autism. but i'm also just like. spinning around in circles so fast EMOTIONS feelings.......... CHLOE DANCER / CROWN OF THORNS ARE LYRICALLY SOME OF THE MOST STUNNING RAW STRIKING SAD BEAUTIFUL POWERFUL SONGS I'VE EVER LOVED IN MY LIFEEEEEE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEIR MOST WELL KNOWN BECAUSE IT JUST..... IT PUTS YOU IN A SUCH A GRIP........ AND ME???? WITH THE WHOLE DRUG ADDICTION BACKGROUND????? THEY BREAK ALL MY BONES, THESE LYRICS. I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT "I WANT TO TELL YOU THAT I LOVE YOU / BUT DOES IT REALLY MATTER? / I JUST CANT STAND TO SEE YOU DRAGGIN' DOWN AGAIN" AND "CHLOE IS JUST LIKE ME, ONLY BEAUTIFUL" ANNNNNNDDDDD EVERY OTHER LYRIC IN THIS COUPLET OF SONGS BECAUSE IT IS SOOOOOOOO........ THIS STORY IS SO SAD AND IT IMPACTED OTHER MUSICIANS AT THE TIME !!!SO!!! !!!MUCH!!! ANNNND....... AND THEN YOU'VE GOT SAY HELLO 2 HEAVEN TEMPLE OF THE DOG AND ONCE AGAIN I'M BARKING SCREAMING YELLING RUNNING AROUND TELLING PEOPLE JUST HOW MUCH THAT SONG SHOULD BE PUNCHING YOU IN THE FACE REPEATEDLY..... HOW TANGIBLE CHRIS CORNELL'S GRIEF IS??? ONE OF ROCK MUSIC'S MOST POWERFUL VOCALISTS EVER??? TO ME /THE/ STAND-OUT OF HIS CAREER THIS SONG HAS ALWAYS BLOWN ME AWAY. FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE THE ENTIRE TIME I HAVE BEEN ON THIS EARTH I HAVE BEEN HEARING THIS SONG FEELING ENTIRELY KNOCKED OVER BY THE WEIGHT THE EMOTION HE'S ABLE TO EXPRESS IN THIS HE PUT HIS ABSOLUTE EVERYTHING INTO THIS TRIBUTE TO HIS FRIEND...... ONCE AGAIN LYRICALLY STUNNING TRAGIC UNBELIEVABLE AND LAYERED !!! LAYERED ON TOP OF THE TRAGEDY OF CHLOE DANCER / CROWN OF THORNS......... "NOW, IT SEEMS LIKE TOO MUCH LOVE IS NEVER ENOUGH / YEAH, YOU BETTER SEEK OUT ANOTHER ROAD / 'CAUSE THIS ONE IS ENDIN' ABRUPT" ..........LIKE......... IT IS SO SAD!!!! IT IS SO SAD!!!! ANDREW WOOD WAS SO!!!!!!!!! IMPORTANT!!!!!!! TO THIS ERA OF MUSIC. THAT HE DIDN'T EVEN GET TO BE THERE FOR!?!?!!??? AND YOU DON'T EVEN HEAR HIM MENTIONED SO MUCH OF THE TIME. ??????!!!!!!! SOME PEOPLE DON'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT IT.......... HE WAS //24// HE WAS TWENTY FOUR YEARS OLD WHEN HE DIED.......... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA????????

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windup-dragoon · 5 years ago

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So not exactly the AU you had mentioned @astralyehga as I had intended. But the end result I’m still happy with. Originally it was going to be Hien helps Kiri get a date with Aymeric, but in doing so and boosting her confidence, Hien realizes he has feelings for her. BUT THAT’S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. It kind of just wrote itself tbh. And at one point I was still going to go with that original idea, but then I thought I would have to write a second half and I thought the likelihood of me actually finishing it was pretty slim so. This is here instead. uwu THANK YOU FOR THE AU IDEA THOUGH I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT. I even watched a rom com just to get in the writing mood. lmao. I watched the ugly truth bc it used to be one of my favorites.

【Ｍｏｄｅｒｎ　Ｌｏｖｅｒｓ】

Hien x Kirishimi

Word Count: 2,291

“To what do I owe this pleasure tonight, friend? Hard day at work?”

The gym was always vacant at this time of night. When the street lights illuminated the city and traffic was nonexistent. The clock read well past midnight, marching ever forward in tandem with her weights lifting and falling from the bench.

Mismatched eyes peeked out from beneath thick lashes at the owner of the voice who now kept her company. Hien, the owner and her personal trainer, grinned down at her. Her hold of the equipment slipped, the weights clattering back into place just behind her head. Kirishimi grimaced but sat upright from the bench.

“You could say that.” Her hand raked through snow white hair as a sigh heaved itself from her lips.

Hien crossed his arms with a quirked brow. “Didn’t you say you were meeting up with your friends tonight? Or was that next Friday?”

Kirishimi didn’t respond. Instead the woman pitched herself forward, head in her hands.

“Ah. Still sore. Got it.”

This wasn’t the first time Kirishimi had been left to her own devices on a Friday, or even Saturday night. She often worked late, finishing paperwork that everyone else left abandoned until the next business day. Most times her plans would reschedule, only to never be realized. All of her friends, no matter how dear they were, had lives of their own. Each had a significant other to keep them company and enjoy the evening with. So when her own plans fell through? They were there to pick up the pieces and make the night spectacular with or without Kirishimi’s presence.

Tonight had just been another defeated Friday night to Kirishimi.

Hien, her trainer now for more than a few years, had known the story all too well. In her disheartened state, she wound up here at his gym, practicing her kick boxing or lifting weights. It was almost routine these days. But, in some small comfort, there were worse places she could have drifted to besides his gym.

He sat on the bench beside her and draped a white cloth over her head. “How ‘bout a nice hot shower and I’ll get some sake? I’ve got left overs from dinner, if you’re hungry.”

The offered towel was promptly used to scrub her face. “Sure.”

How many times had she ended up in this very room? A small studio apartment over the gym that always smelled of honey and apples. From the kitchen, to the living room, all the way to the back where sliding doors led into Hien’s bedroom, all of it could be seen from the moment one walked in. The host himself stationed himself at his makeshift mini bar beside the glass doors leading to a tiny, unused balcony. The lighting of his apartment was dim, as usual, nothing but strings of fairy lights that she had helped him string up from corner to corner some months ago.

He prepared a small tray for Kirishimi while she showered, sake for them to share and black styrofoam to-go boxes he had ordered earlier that evening. Surely he would have loved to cook dinner himself for the woman, but you burn one pizza and you’re immediately branded a poor chef forever after. With fire alarms howling into the night and a pillar of smoke being waved out the balcony doors, she had sworn off his cooking from then on.

It was one of his favorite memories.

Not long after Hien settled himself onto the only piece of furniture in his living room, a couch no less, Kirishimi elbowed the door open and padded barefoot into the apartment. Furiously she scrubbed her white hair with a clean towel, water still dripping down the front of her borrowed t-shirt and soaking the collar. In her urgency to leave the vast loneliness of her own apartment she had forgotten her freshly washed t-shirt, having little choice but to bum one from Hien instead.

“Sorry ‘bout this. I’ll get it dry cleaned if you want.” Kiri spoke in between ruffling her hair like wet feathers and combing her fingers through the locks.

Hien dismissed her with a smile. “Nonsense! It’s only a t-shirt. I have a million others, if you must know.” He teased. It wasn’t the first time he had lent one to her and he somehow doubted it would be the last. “Come sit and eat. Knowing you, you haven’t had a bite all day.”

“Not true.” Kirishimi protested, plopping down in the seat beside him. The couch sunk a bit beneath their weight, forcing their shoulders together. “I had a doughnut at work.”

He whistled. “Wow. A whole doughnut. Well, I won’t deny the nutritional value of a doughnut. Sprinkles?”

“Yes. Brightly colored. Pink, maybe?”

“Ah. Then certainly you don’t need chicken alfredo-” Hien leaned forward, about to grab her box when she uttered a small squeak in defiance.

“Hold it right there, criminal scum! You really think I’d turn down alfredo?”

Grinning, Hien shrugged. “I knew that’d get you.” He slid the box across the coffee table, handing her a fork and a poured drink as well. “Now,” He leaned back against the couch with arms behind his head. “You wanna talk about today?”

“Not really.” Kiri sunk to the floor between the couch and table. Hien was quick to steal her towel and wedge it between the back of her head and the cushions of his only usable furniture. If she needed to spend the night, at least her bed wouldn’t be soaking wet from her hair thanks to his effort.

“Kiri,” He drew out her name, an almost commanding tone. “You can’t bottle it up forever. The last time you tried you drank my bar dry and nearly puked on a couple passing by.”

Silver brows drew together while miscolored eyes burned. “I won’t miss this time.”

“Kirishimi!” Hien exhaled. “I’m being serious. Humor me?”

The young woman, blowing out a sigh that lifted her hair from her cheeks, knocked back one cup full of sake. “Fine,” Reluctance filled her voice. “If you insist.

“Bein’ that it’s Friday, everyone wanted out of the office early. But instead of working together to get it all done, people just up and left after lunch. I had to stay behind, again, to make sure everything got filed correctly and all. That new secretary was nice enough to at least announce she was leaving...” Kiri paused in her story, staring vacantly at the mess of noodles lumped together in the container before her.

“She mentioned a big party downtown and that I should invite my friends to go out. We’d all have drinks and just chill after a long week. I don’t really like the idea of parties but I did wanna see the gang. Been pullin’ such long nights at work, I haven’t seen any of ‘em for a while. So after lockin’ up the office, I texted everyone. Shuri, Illya, Laurelis. But-”

“They’re busy?” Hien finished when Kirishimi failed to continue.

“Yeah...” Kirishimi shook her head and finally dipped her fork into her food. The noodles slithered round and round the utensil but she had no intention of eating just yet. “It’s fine! I mean, they’ve all got their own stuff goin’ on. They wanna spend time with their guys and live their lives. I’ll catch up with ‘em another day, yea? Just sucks bein’ alone...ya’know?”

“Mhm.” All the time he had known Kirishimi, since the day she waltzed into his gym and signed herself up, he had never known her to be obsessed with the idea of a boyfriend. Yet here she was, trying to deny the fact that it bothered her. From time to time the guys of the gym would flirt with her, ask her on dates and say pretty things to her, but they were never right for Kirishimi. Some would later admit to being intimidated by such an athletic woman while others just assumed she had money to spare.

While she fought with her dinner, Hien spared a glance at his phone. A chat message he had started earlier that week filled the screen.

Illya:: Have you asked her yet?

Laurelis:: Hello!!! It’s getting late! Tell us something!!

Shuri:: You had better not have chickened out!

He couldn’t deny the guilt welling in his gut. Instead of asking Kirishimi to meet him at the gym, he had begged her friends to help him in his endeavors to reach her. They were kind enough to oblige but seeing the slump in Kiri’s shoulders made him regret that decision. The girls weren’t to blame. Though he doubted Kirishimi could ever be truly mad at them. They were like family to her; sisters to the bitter end.

“Have you considered finding yourself a boyfriend?” Hien forced the words out of his mouth before he could second guess himself. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, taking a sip of his own sake.

Kiri’s fork stopped spinning for a heartbeat. Eventually she snorted and arched a brow at him. “Yeah. It’s real easy, isn’t it? Lemme just go ask some rando’s if they wanna date me.” She huffed before taking a bite.

“Please, do not ask random guys to date you.” He pleaded with a light smile.

“Sorry, but I’m afraid that’s my only option. Or die alone, I guess. My cursed bloodline ends with me.” Kiri teased, dramatically quoting a line from a movie the two had but recently watched.

“C’mon! You’re just being pessimistic. Surely there’s other guys in your life?” Hien leaned a little closer, desperate to catch a glimpse of her features while she nibbled at her food.

“The guys at work are scared of me. Especially when I wear heels.”

“You do that on purpose.”

“I like feeling superior! They treat me like dirt anyway. Bunch o’ assholes.”

“Anyone else?”

“Nope.”

“...What about me?”

“What about-” Kiri turned toward Hien, a questioning look dancing in her eyes. But her words fell short when she noticed him. His green eyes watching her, holding her gaze.

The sound of soft rain pelting the window soon filled the silence of the apartment. It was a romantic ambiance. A window in the kitchen, left open, let in the sweet scent of an approaching storm and the musky aroma of falling rain.

Her heart jumped into her throat as they shared in the quiet moment. All the discussions she ever had with the girls about this very topic came rushing to mind as she searched for words to say in response. Many times she had lamented to the others about her feelings for Hien, always under the impression that he had eyes only for the cute girls who frequented his gym. The girls in tight outfits who giggled and winked at Hien when he taught them how to use specific equipment. She had always wanted to be like them, so flirtatious when asking for his number so they could keep in touch. Several times before she had assumed he had even dated one or two of them, fleeting as they were.

Illya, Shuri, Laurelis, and even their significant others had demanded that she at least talk to Hien about it. To open her heart to see what transpired. But fear had kept her back. If he turned her down or realized her feelings, would he ask her to leave the gym? Who then would she turn to when she was alone at night, wanting anyone's voice but her own to fill the silence. Who would she spend her off days with watching movies or keep him from burning his own building down? It was the fear of being alone that chained her.

But now...

“Hien... You are... definitely a guy in my life.” Kirishimi managed to mutter, her cheeks burning with heat.

“Took you that long to notice?” Hien teased.

“Shuddup!” She huffed before crawling up onto the couch beside him once more. “You know what I meant. I didn’t think you thought of me like that...”

Hien turned so his back was toward the armrest, his body fully facing her. “It’d be an awful lie to say I didn’t think about you every day. Some nights I wait downstairs... Just to see if you stop by.”

“You could have texted me! You could have... said something...”

“I was afraid I’d lose you. I wanted to make sure you felt the same. Your friends gave me one hell of an earful when I spoke to them.” Hien frowned at the memory. Three women demanding he be honest. Although quiet and polite, the trio had honestly frightened him. But if it hadn’t been for them, he may have never found out. His question left unanswered.

“Hien...” Kiri, chewing a moment on her bottom lip, closed her eyes and reached for his hand with both of hers. “Hien, ya’ idiot! Of course I like you! I get stupid butterflies in my stomach when I see you. Gods know I look like a blushin’ idiot when you parade around the gym without yer shirt on. Or the fact that you’ve been my personal trainer for over a year when I don’t even need one-”

“At least I don’t charge you for that.” Hien interrupted, a blossoming grin plastering his face. “Kirishimi, I’m sorry I’m not a rando off the street like you envisioned, but will you go out with me?”

Snowy hair bounced wickedly as Kirishimi replied with an eager nod of her head. “Hells yes!” In unison they moved toward one another, Hien’s arms looping around her waist and drawing her onto his lap while her hands brought his face to hers, lips crashing in a heartbeat against the other.

#|| Untold Stories #hien x wol #hien x kirishimi #Modern au #my babiesssss #BE HAPPY YOU LITTLE TOADS #ILY #i could cry #the alternate idea would have been cool too #like he's trying to get her to say she should date him #but then she gets a text from aymeric asking if she wanted to go out #when she leaves hien the girls text him asking how it went #and he's kind of heartbroken like #...it could have gone better #BUT I DIDN'T WRITE THAT SO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #maybe someday #thank you again for giving me such an au!!#astralyehga

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