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thetentaclecommander · 7 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

Sures, I'll bite @the-bar-sinister!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 49 on my TheTentacleCommander main 2 on SerpentineAndWet 1 on SoftTentacledJazz (which I will get back to!) and 1 on Waymaiden Jelecia (shelved for now) so in total: 53

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 471,114 in total spanning all accounts the huge bulk being under TTC.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Resident Evil. I'm very much a ride or die writer when it comes to fandom longevity lol

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Electronic Brawling (the Nem/Reader fic I wrote over a weekend, 322) Tentacles Are -Not- Toys (Until They Are) (the Nem/Jill I wrote over a weekend, 288) To Teach a (b)oy (the femdom Jill/Nem fic I wrote cause I wanted to just be as kinky as possible about it, 138) Need. Excite. Take. (a morning warm up I did for a Tyrantfucker chat, 130) Teaching the Devil (my 'serious' drabble that turned into a longfic/1st part of a myth arc around Nem/Jill and all the whatifs that could happen, 105) *yes, I'm aware the smut is what sells lol*

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I love receiving them and answer, especially in depth ones.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ah, ha haha this one's tough. My main ship (Nemesis/Jill) is in my hands intentionally angsty so many do end on that note. If I had to chose it'd be a tie between After The Fall - Where Nemesis *really* struggles between caring for her and wanting to hurt the absolute fuck out of her. Necromancy - It's hard surreal/dreamy on purpose (also a fic staple of mine) that ends with Nemesis having done all he has to make Jill 'happy' is so deeply unhappy with himself in the end - but still continues to perpetuate the lotus eater world he's crafted for them.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Where the wild things... - a really hard surreal dream fic of where Nemmy's head was at halfway through the 3rd arc. He has such an idealized, near childlike hope which is big for a generally angry and resentful creature. He clearly wants the world with Jill, where the chase benefits them both but a lot of the edges - like her own traumas - are shaved off. It's telling his dream was inspired by a children's book about dealing with anger, fear and finding/seeking comfort. But it's happy in the sense he gets that comfort he wanted so badly throughout his creation, and that when he awakens, it's with him now determined to reunite with her and their offspring. (con't after the cut)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really? When I was on ff.net I got snippy comments (I was a young babby then) but looking back it was just what we'd call today fanpol wanking to wank. These days I assume ppl are aware what I'm about so if I were to garner hate, I'd just laugh and write Nemmy fucking Jill even harder in unfortunate places. I can always go darker, kids.

9. Do you write smut? *stares at the camera deeply* Yesss? All the smut? They tend to range from soft heartwarming lovemaking, to conflicted should we be doing this, to rapey horrors, just weird monstery shit and then the kink. Just kinky shit all over the place. Very character study leaning.

10. Do you write crossovers? Nah. I already have a lot in my head just handling one franchise!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge but with the way I write it's gunna be a pretty fun time in pulling off imitating my voice as I sound high on my own fumes about a decidedly rare pair no one seems to wanna admit liking rofl That and all the formatting hell

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yea! In Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nah, I'm too much of a prima donna to share billing /jk I just don't like collabing unless it's for an rp but I'm also never say never about such things!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? *stares even harder at the camera* I...I'm the longest running one trick pony about having a parasitized Tyrant try to not murder with prejudice the most well trained person on the RE cast I make no secret about this :3 Also let me note my other most liked ships I have written on: Weskertine, Creva, and the Ada and Carlos tour. Valenfield ig (I do truly like em but they aren't as exciting to write for in comparison but I indeed do write them sometimes). Note these are for canons, I have loads more favs but they are ocs.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have like 15+ wips in my drafts. I don't wanna pick one cause it's just painful to look at them begging to be finished. The ones on my account I have every intent to finish. Mostly because they are related to the AU and it wouldn't make sense if I didn't finish them.

16. What are your writing strengths? The sex lol (and being weird with it). I've been told my imagery and word play in general is stellar.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I feel my dialogue could be better and it's where I struggle (unless it's my muses Nem, Jill, Trent and Zeus as they are the ones I've written for the most in fic/rps) so I always try to improve on that always.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Don't wanna. I tried, hated not knowing if the language was correct (looking at you, Carlos) so just did ye old << >> to imply he's not speaking English.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Resident Evil. I am nothing if not persistent. (like my first fic was like in 2005-6? I think?)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Again another tie but it's a 3 way *eyebrow wiggle*! A Slumber Recalled, A Devil Held - this was my 'can I do something soft but pained at the same time' fic. It's a revisit of the time they finally after 20+ chapters did the do, and it's from her pov instead. A lot of re contextualizing and 'wow both of these people have baggage and are doing this not out of love but to feel heard and it *hurts*'. Proved to myself that I can write something hard hitting without a single cry of physical pain. St. Valentine - where what was to be a simple Valentine's Day fic became a fun sacrilegious love poem from a very not at all obsessive Tyrant and then had an added chapter of the reverse side of Jill sounding mentally not all there almost fragmented in her feelings towards what this was between them. So much enjoyable word play was had. Necromancy - discussed above but has my brand of word play, leaning on the fourth wall/formatting/surreal and increasing uncomfortable.

------- All my writer mutes, have at! @damadisangue @naerwenia @coiled-dragon @s-dei @lmshady @azulas-daddy-kink @depraveddove @unchartedperils @sweet7simple @goth-automaton @dekujin @katophoenix (If I missed one of ya or you do write also join in :D)

#thetentaclecommander writhes and speaks #thetentaclecommander eats reblog bait #also mind the tags on my stuff some of them are spicy #and some of them are violently *spicy*

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berryshallbe · 4 years ago

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KHRbookmarkfics3

This is connected to the others [Part1] , Part2] , [Part 3], [Part4]

me is very desperate indeed.

#ONESHOTS

dead anime moms by exorca

A Not-Quite Sixth Sense by AthanatosOra

Indulge me by exorca

Baby Carnivore by IceMelody [child!fic]

Recall by Metamorcy [X27]

What’s in a name by exorca

The Sky is Black During Twilight by exorca [starring tsuna“i’m done”-as-bella]

anchor me to the shore (don't let me go) by CreepingSoul [child!fic]

Quality by ChaoticFairy (Amanda908565) [varia27]

if you get eaten by hyugesoo [dark!27]

Definitively, Decidedly Dangerous and Deadly by ravenromance27

The Rebirth of Tsunayoshi Sawada by ShamelessDilettante [dimenstrav]

Godling by wolfsrainrules [demigod!27, Iemitsu-is-actually-Apollo]

The Rings by wolfsrainrules [Gladiator!AU]

When The Nightingale Sings by Sanjuno [Dragonskies!AU, Dragon!27]

Mafia King by erimies [onepieceXover, Luffy-is-Tsuna]

Christmas With the Vongolas by skygem [featuring 1stgen- 10thgen vongola]

Can't Fool Me by Bird of Dreams [parallel!AU]

Bleeding Out by Little_Miss_Bunny [Apocalypse!AU]

#MORESHOTS (2shot, 3shot, or 4shot)

For Science! by Melfice13 [Twoshot, 100centric, aniki!100, fem!27]

Limitation of a Dark Sky by Windying [Twoshots, Supernatural!AU, twin!fic, dark!27, multi-fandom]

Beast Rising by wolfrainrules [Twoshots] !!!

A Cat's Solitary by alternative_ann [Twoshots, sibling!fic] !!!

if the shoe fits by misoriri [Twoshots, biting!27]

Childish Whims by skygem [Threeshot, child!27]

❀ CHEER UP!! ❀ by li2 [Threeshot, MagicalGirl!AU, MagicalKid!27]

Tsuna's Bucket List by Master_Procrastinator [Threeshot, TYL, Arco!27,]

Good Reasons Why by blueglass [Threeshot, Vampire!27]

It's An Acquired Taste by Ourliazo [Threeshot, RFon, Ghoul!AU, Accidental GhoulBaby Acquisition]

The Hunger Within by familymatters [Fourshot, Vampire!27, Child!fic, Tsuna eats Flames instead of Blood]

LYING IS BAD FOR THE SOUL by Hayato (TheLennyBunny) [Fourshots, Tsuna-being-the-bloodson-of-Primo]

Unrelenting Fate by keimichi [Threeshot, dark!27]

Top of the Food Chain by skygem [Fourshots]

R27

Under the Winged Sky by Crimsonfang33 [Supernatural!AU, Fem!27, Phoenix!27]

Story of an Author by RenegadeWarrior [writer!27, multiple!R]

Steal the Sun by languide [crossdressing!27, slowburn]

Chroma Diamonds by Brick (themikeymonster) [unreliable narrator, Self-cest!27]

Colors of the Heart by Usagi_Baka [AU]

Falling off the Arc by Arithra [timetrav,Oneshots]

Present In the Past by MintyBubba

Lascivious by Ourliazo [Vampire Hunter!27, Vampire!AU, 4 Hibaris as Vamps]

Control by Metamorcy [Threeshots]

First Impressions are Often Entirely Wrong by ChaoticFairy (Amanda908565) [Oneshots]

To the Beat of My Own Drum by Seito [fake/pretend relationship, College!AU, Threeshots]

1827 +kyoko/haru

what never was by HeavenlyDusk [Threeshots, personal assistant!27, non-mafiosio!27, the three heirs still alive!AU]

Cryptid Namimori by Sawadoot [DC!27]

Trophy Husband by HeavenlyDusk [Oneshots]

#HPXOVER

Chaos in the Blood by Sefiru [Hari-is-Reborn’s grandson]

Slip Up by northpeach, wolfsrainrules [Hari-is-Skull]

The Magician by ValloryRussups [Oneshots, dimenstrav]

Desenrascanço by Enso_Eternal [Bigbro!Hari, Hari was a child soldier and he will make damn sure that doesn't happen to tsuna and his friends ] !!!

Trading Yesterday by Shadowblayze [Arcosky!Hari] !!!

Burn So Bright by silenceia [Oneshots, Giotto-is-Hari|

Hearth Fire (Welcome Home) by stapling_pages [Tom-is-Tsuna’s-bigbro]

Little Bit Broken by stormflame89 [Hari-is-Skull]

We Drift Freely Onwards by Applepie [Hari-is-Skull]

Don't Find Me by Akua [HariSKL]

Jigsaw Puzzle of the Sky by Shiyaki [RHari]

we are the poisoned youth by Seito ?

Raiju by jeleania [Twoshots, Hari-is-Tsuna’s-firstfriend]

Like The Tide by Ourliazo [Twoshots, Pre-Arco Curse, Mod!Hari-adopting-brat!R]

Forged In Flame by Reighost [varia!cloudy!Hari]

Of Science and Lightning by CaptivatingLadySpinel [Hari-is-Verde’spawn]

Harry Potter and His Fedora Wearing Hitman by Withmaximumeffort [mod!Hari-adopts-Tsuna, RHari]

The Reason Why by JDGambit [fourshots, mod!HariSKL]

Sending Out Flares by Elandil [Skyarco!Hari]

The Varia's Hairdresser by Starchains [hairdresser!Hari]

\Backslash by Jorie2127 (Flight_orFight) [phoenix!Hari]

Hemp Flowers Meant Fate by MufuMufuSan [Arcosky!Hari, Mutated Form of Hanahaki Disease!AU]

Death's Reward by sphinxymae [fem!Hari-is-Tsuna’sis]

#MARVELXOVER

Iron Spark by Elena_Parker [twoshots, Tony-is-Tsuna]

Italian Roots by DearCat [fem!toni-is-Xanxus’sis, threeshots]

A Troublesome Lightning To Adopt by moonlightcarol [Oneshots, Tsuna-is-Tony’s-Legal Guardian-somehow]

Vigilant Spider? More Like Guardian Angel by Anonymous [reincarnated, Tsuna-is-PeterParker]

#MISCELLENEOUS

Guns and knitting needles by AmbroiseFramboise [DC!27]

The Menagerie by zegez [animal cast!AU]

Apathy by KlonoaDreams [SI!fem!27, DC!27]

Blackbird by jadetiger27 [twin!fic, hint!1827]

Don't Hold Your Breath (we're gonna live) by SilverRoseAri [Apocalypse!AU]

Nothing More by skygem [child!fic, ghostfathers!1st gen]

Have Your Cake (and Eat It Too) by Ramabear (RyMagnatar) [Ghoul!AU]

Mystic Eyes by Nika Raven Celeste [semi-psycho!27]

Inheritors of Flame by Kyogre [MMO!AU,VRgamer!27]

Hiraeth by ReiLarroca [sibling!fic, gen!fic]

Mafia Row by Phantom Hitman 1412 [Parenting!Arco, Child!fic]

Another Path by DragonflyDream [twin!fic, non-mafiosio!27] !!!

Dame-Tsuna, Right? by Nobody_Inhere [smart!27]

yesterday's tomorrow by orphan_account [timetrav]

The Final Boss by Sakhyu [Gamer!fem!27, genderbend]

Sunny Skies Ahead by Ourliazo [secondary sky!R, Pre-Arco Curse]

Vongola Style by Ourliazo [Collection of Unrelated Stories]

Don't Hold Your Breath (we're gonna live) by SilverRoseAri [Apocalypse!AU]

The Leóne Decimo by Zsterwriter14 [Shifter!AU]

Amber by Enigmatree [child!fic, Omniscient!27]

On Heaven and Earth by QuinsValoria [AjinXover, Ajin!27, Dead Dove]

Sass and Win by AlligatorEyes [SI/OC, SI!twin of tsuna, Twin!fic, RInari] !!!

novaturient by woofio [SI/OC, Pre-Arco Curse, OC!HibariRyo]

#i’m desperate enough to go back to fanfic.net #I still have no ao3 account so yea the this is going to continue until I did the thing #pity i can’t add more since i already reach the quota #fic rec list #khr #marvel #hpxover #marvel fanfiction #fic rec #crossover #tony stark #he is always there #r27 #1827 #khr fanfic

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shatouto · 4 years ago

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another sequel to @obiwanobi's ex-sith anakin au (here and here), and at this rate… yea. yea we’re gonna have to archive this on ao3 (soon)

anyway here’s 2.8k words of tonal inconsistency

et si les étoiles sont cachées

Obi-Wan barely sleeps a wink through the night. His mind turns and whirls as he battles between second-guessing his decisions regarding the former Sith sleeping in his bed and planning on what to do going forward. Anakin knows how to cloak his own signature well enough, that much Obi-Wan can observe, but he will not stand a chance if Masters such as Yoda or Windu search his presence. And then there is the matter of the elusive Darth Sidious’ death, as well - Obi-Wan can only assume that it would be classified information on the Confederacy side, but even then, the Force only knows what kind of hell would break loose once his body is discovered. It doesn’t help that he could barely pull his hand out of Anakin’s without him frowning in his sleep and stirring. He simply has to stay put, with Anakin’s very likely feverish body pressed up against his side in a bed that is only snugly enough for two.

In meditating all of those scenarios, he forgets to account for the hell that breaks loose in his own quarters upon the return of his apprentice.

“Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert.

“He was an injured man who crawled to my doorstep for aid, young one.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Surely you cannot expect me to simply turn my back to him, can you? That wouldn’t be the Jedi way.”

“Yes, but…” Ahsoka pinches her own forehead, shoulders dropping in a harsh exhale. “He’s a Sith lord, Master. We’ve all seen what he has done and can do!”

“He was a Sith, Ahsoka. Leading him back to the Light means one less darksider for the galaxy, and no more lives lost. I have always been trying to accomplish this.” Obi-Wan realizes, all of a sudden, that he is trying to convince himself rather than his apprentice. “He came in a moment of need, with nowhere else to go. He no longer wants to remain with the Dark.”

Ahsoka blinks. “And you just trust him? Just like that?”

Well, Obi-Wan wants to say, you didn’t see him on his knees in the hallway with blood covering half his body and bruises the other half; and you didn’t see him hang his head as you took his lightsaber and then his ruined arm off before setting him to bed. Then again, nobody would ever see that: the exact devastation and distress the once-Darth Vader was in last night, at his door. “That is the case, Ahsoka. I would like to trust him, for the time being.”

Ahsoka grumbles something about tried to kill me earlier, didn’t you see that? which of course inspires a twinge of guilt in Obi-Wan - because indeed, this borders on being a foolhardy venture, that his Padawan is dragged into solely by virtue of her sharing quarters with him. She shakes her head and speaks clearly again for him to hear. “...Fine, I get it. Where do you even plan to house him, Master?”

Obi-Wan pauses. He has had plenty of time in the night to consider this, and still he cannot find any better solution than the one he is about to suggest. “I suppose there is no place safer than here.”

“Here? You mean as in, your own quarters, in the Jedi Temple?” Ahsoka stresses on the last few words, incredulous.

Something crashes inside his room, followed by Anakin’s muffled curse. Obi-Wan looks his apprentice dead in the eye as he lets out a sigh, and says, “Yes.”

—

Anakin is strangely good at cooking.

Obi-Wan supposes he shouldn’t have presumed; after all, being a Sith apprentice should probably not interfere with the more mundane aspects of life. But not only is Anakin’s cooking distinctly above average (how did he learn enough skills to make a three-course meal out of the few basic ingredients in Obi-Wan’s pantry, and at what cost?), he also seems to undertake the task with zeal. It’s rather endearing to watch him shuffle around the kitchenette in warm beige pants that barely reach his ankles, and a left sleeve that doesn't need to be rolled up because it's already too short for his long arm.

It’s been less than a week since Anakin first comes to his door. He clearly doesn't like Ahsoka, but with one arm and no lightsaber and Obi-Wan firmly telling him to behave, he eventually, and clearly grudgingly, tolerates her presence, from time to time. The gleam in his eyes is still worrying, from time to time, but the most Anakin does nowadays when Ahsoka passes by is turn his back to her. He seems to be trying his best, which is why Obi-Wan feels immensely guilty for having to preface their meal with a rather somber question.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, as Anakin sets down before him a plate of steak that smells nearly the same as that one luxurious dish he once had while in disguise as a socialite at a prestigious fine dining party. It isn’t the materiality that is distracting, but the efforts that must have gone into it. “I would like to ask you a question.”

Anakin sits down opposite of him, balancing himself. Even with the Force, he’s unused to not having a weight elbow-down on his right hand. “What? Leftover is in the kitchen for your apprentice. If she wants it.” His voice still sharpens at your apprentice, defensive. “I didn’t mean to let her starve.”

Obi-Wan is torn between a smile and a grimace. “No, that isn’t my question, Anakin. I’ve been wondering if you knew of your allies’ plans.”

“What kind of plans?” Anakin’s eyes narrow, warily. “It depends. Dooku knew most. I just did battlefield strategy.”

“You don’t happen to know if there has been recent plans to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor, do you?” It has been on Obi-Wan’s mind ever since he was summoned to an urgent Council meeting days ago. Investigative teams reported that the Supreme Chancellor has gone missing; then midway through the meeting, another report came, and so they ended up discussing how to keep peace while the Senate would break the staggering news of the Supreme Chancellor’s death to the entire galaxy and organize an emergency election. The timing fit too well with Anakin’s arrival, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Oh, there’s never any.” Anakin shrugs, tension melting out of his shoulder. He begins to cut into his steak without a care.

Obi-Wan frowns. There has been plenty of attempted assassinations before, as well as kidnapping - he himself has been sent to protect the Chancellor on many occasions. He’s loath to contradict Anakin, though, so he asks, carefully: “And you are sure?”

“I’m sure,” Anakin says, swallowing a mouthful. “My mas—Darth Sidious, is Palpatine.”

It takes Obi-Wan a stunned moment, while Anakin just continues to eat.

Well, the Council had their suspicions, but it was never so direct. Some have speculated, very privately, that the Chancellor might be linked to a darksider in some way. Perhaps somebody who is in opposition to Count Dooku, another Master has raised. But for the Chancellor *himself* to be this elusive, mysterious Darth Sidious, seems downright unfathomable.

“You…” Obi-Wan pauses, rewording the sentence in his mind for the seventh time. “I would like you to be serious, Anakin. That was not a joke, was it?”

Anakin, unsmiling, turns his eyes up to him with a look of confusion as if saying What’s a joke? “Darth Sidious is Palpatine,” he repeats. “I’m not allowed—I was not allowed to call him that, though.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. The timing does line up far too well. “Anakin, that means you have... disposed of the Supreme Chancellor.”

Anakin scoffs, scrunches up his nose, and shrugs again. “If you put it that way,” he mutters, slouching down even lower as he pointedly eats his food.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it again. He sighs at the ceiling, and picks up his fork and knife. Might as well enjoy a good meal before the migraine sets in.

—

To his own amazement, Obi-Wan is getting used to the way Anakin follows him around like a hatchling, whenever he is home.

During the first few days, it took Obi-Wan a considerable amount of patient explanation to convince Anakin not to sit on the floor at the foot of the door frame until he came back. His reasons ranged from “It’s rather undignified for you” (to which Anakin said, “I’ve done worse,” at which point Obi-Wan had to switch subjects immediately, putting a pin in it for future unpacking), to “You might catch a cold, sitting here for so long” (to which Anakin answered, “It’ll go away on its own,” which prompted Obi-Wan to check his temperature immediately, only to realize that Anakin had been cloaking his fever for at least a day, and - well, that was another pin on the board). In the end, it was only the allowance for him to use the kitchenette that kept the former Sith from waiting at the door like a hound, rather busying himself at the stove instead. It was a great decision through and through, considering how much Anakin improved the quality of their meals.

But otherwise, Anakin still makes no secret of his immediate attachment to him. Perhaps there should be no surprise in that, considering the sort of upbringing he must have suffered through; not that Obi-Wan knows much of it anyway, considering how quiet Anakin remains and how reluctant he himself is to ask personal questions. Nevertheless, from the way Anakin acted - finding his way into the Jedi Temple and declaring his trust to a sworn enemy rather than relying on his own Sith allies - it isn’t hard to infer that this man has had precious little reason to put his trust into anybody in his surroundings. It also aligns with the Sith ways, Obi-Wan speculates - and could only dare speculate, because truth be told he does not know all that much of the Sith outside of his research on ancient texts. Contemporary Sith are few. The Master might just make his own rules, and Darth Sidious - the Supreme Chancellor, Force have mercy - seemed like the type to play cruel games. So he has every reason to understand and empathize. And he truly does extend his most heartfelt compassion to this wayward Force-wielder.

That doesn’t make it any easier to deal with Anakin’s irritability whenever Obi-Wan comes back from a mission.

He’s clearly unhappy about Obi-Wan being away, especially if he discovers that the mission has been with Ahsoka. He only grows more upset and quick-tempered as time goes by; it begins with him upturning the decorative datapad shelves in the living room, escalating to a series of broken glasses and plates in the kitchenette; finally one day Obi-Wan comes back home to knives lodged in the wall, Anakin in the midst of pulling them out.

Anakin has the decency to look sheepish, even just slightly, as he silently puts away all the knives and hides himself in the kitchen completely. He cleans up, at least. In fact, he was almost always in the middle of cleaning up when Obi-Wan caught him in the act, which prompts the question: How many other times has he done this while left alone?

Obi-Wan only sighs. It does border on cruelty to keep somebody alone in these cramped quarters for weeks on end. He also knows that whatever measures he has set up to keep Anakin safe here - from the world, and from Anakin himself, - it would be a fatal oversight to underestimate the ability of a former Sith. He has no doubts that Anakin, even while one-handed and saber-less, could escape if he truly wanted to. The fact that Anakin willingly keeps himself stowed away in a Jedi’s quarters while desperately and entertaining himself through destructive means only to then be embarrassed about it… is a testament to some budding virtue, Obi-Wan supposes. And it only intensifies his guilt: it’s as if he’s taking advantage of Anakin’s trust to confine him to solitude, while he himself pushes back and back the kind of work a true mentor would need to engage in to help Anakin. The fact that he is fighting a war, or whatever is left of it, is no excuse.

It is with resolution that he stands up and heads into the kitchen. Their eyes meet as soon as he steps in; clearly enough, Anakin has been watching him. Anakin’s fingers grip the counter, knuckles blanched. Obi-Wan holds up his hands, moving as slowly and unpredictably as possible, and cuts to the chase.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go outside, Anakin.”

Anakin’s brows shoot up, but he still doesn’t unclench his jaws.

“I believe it’s rather unfair to keep you locked inside,” Obi-Wan explains. “After all, cooking can only do so much to spend all of one’s pent up energy.” He gives a small, gentle smile, inwardly anxious because of the way Anakin still looks at him with his guards up, shoulders squared, halfway between fight and flight. “I am not suggesting anything much, Anakin. Only a walk in the park, if it suits you. The decision is up to you.”

A moment or two passes in thick, awkward silence. Then Anakin, hesitantly: “Will you be there?”

It’s the first pleasant surprise Obi-Wan has had in what felt like an age. His smile grows, unbidden. “Yes, I insist.”

—

Autumn winds reel through his hair before rushing off to rustle in the foliage. The nightly air is crisp on his cheeks, and Obi-Wan doesn’t even think to tighten his robes around him; he enjoys a nice, chilly evening. Silence is alleviated by the song of insects in the grass, as they make their way down the serpentine path, round fountains and beds of flowers. Their robes flutter, and their hands are firmly linked.

It’s nothing that cannot be explained by strict necessity, or so Obi-Wan reasons: He must be able to make sure Anakin never strays from his sight, for safety reasons; and he dislikes the thought of putting any kind of binding or chains or even just a simple tied thread on Anakin. As usual, when all else fails, undertaking by hand is the solution - hence Anakin’s hand in his own, their palms warmly interfacing, their calluses fitting together.

The contact is also enjoyable, but that’s beside the point.

“I like the sky at night,” Anakin says, sudden but quiet. Obi-Wan glances at him to find Anakin not looking back at him for once. Anakin’s hood has long since slipped off because of the way he tips his head back to turn his eyes to the stars. Most of them are shrouded by gathering clouds, but some of them still shine through the dark.

“I see,” Obi-Wan muses. “May I ask why?”

For once, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I like to look at the stars. They’re just suns, but far away. Can’t burn you, only blink at you.” Anakin’s hand tightens just a little. A patch of wildflowers gently glows when the two of them pass by. “When you blink back at them, you’re not alone.”

“And what if the stars are hidden?” Obi-Wan gestures, voice light, even as his heart sinks. He knows a lonely child, or one who used to be a lonely child, when he sees one. “What do you do then?”

The sigh that follows is lost in a gust of wind. There’s only the slightest of tremors in Anakin’s fingertips. They fall back into silence, deeper silence this time, as even the insects seem to quiet. The air feels earthy and damp with a coming rain. The sky blackens as clouds roil and thicken, and suddenly it’s dark as pitch and the comfortable coolness splinters into shivers under his skin. When the first drop falls, Obi-Wan reaches over to draw up Anakin’s hood for him. Anakin turns to him, eyes downcast.

“Then I’m alone,” he answers, belated and small.

—

“Maybe you’re right, Master.” Ahsoka picks up her steaming mug of tea, sinking comfortably into her amply cushioned seat on the couch. A strip of morning sunlight draws lazily across the room. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s working. He’s getting... nicer, lately. You should keep walking him.”

Obi-Wan chuckles at the turn of phrase. Walking him… “I don’t think it’s my doing,” he says, pouring a little more tea for himself. Anakin shuffles from one corner of the kitchenette to another, apron strings fluttering behind him. Obi-Wan shakes his head and takes a sip of tea, smiling. “I don’t think it’s my doing at all.”

#obikin #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #star wars prequels #the clone wars #raised as sith anakin #i really did hijack clem’s au #sorry for pinging you again!#why is this so reminiscent of le petit prince all of a sudden #will that story ever stop haunting me? (no)#all aboard the woobify train yay

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ka-writes · 3 years ago

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——————

Notes: I felt evil..

Also cross country sucks, now I feel sick.

But I gift longish chapter!

——————

Incase you missed:

Chapter 1:

Chapter 4:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Warning: trauma flash backs, cussing, mentions of character death, fear.

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Chapter 5: Rocky Road

——————

Techno certainly didn’t expect Tubbo’s sudden outburst. Still Techno sort of expected bitterness towards the human.

The droneling marched off presumably to go to the garden. He shoved Wilbur out of the way and continued speaking gibberish.

“What’s with Tubbo?” The phantom asked, casting worried glances towards the door.

“He just threatened the human.” Techno said as if it wasn’t the most stupid move on Tubbo’s part. Wilbur’s eyes grew wide and he attempted to run to the holding cell, only to be stopped by Techno’s hand on his shoulder. The phantom sighed before turning towards the guard.

Silently the pair made their way to the common room. Flicking on the illusion projector, and turning the channel with the ISF news. Techno opened a novel not paying any mind to the news reporter who was going over the case that Techno had just escaped.

There weren't any further advances on the story other than what they knew. The ship had crashed on Omar, a nature preserve, which led the ISF to find eight human bodies and twelve recognized crew members. Though there were fourteen to begin with, not that the news knew that of course. The ship was also deemed as a poacher ship and not much else was discovered.

After the story was covered a different news reporter came on screen. He was shifting his papers nervously and glanced down every so often. This caused Techno to close his novel and pay attention to the illusion.

“Just one day ago, one of the Dream Team crew members quit.” The news reporter took a shaky breath before continuing, “Today the crew has reported that the ex-crew member had taken one of the humans they were using for testing.” A picture of Tommy appeared on screen, “This is what the human looks like. We advise citizens to be on the lookout for this man,” a picture of Wilbur popped onto the screen, “and the human. If you see either one in public do not engage and immediately report it to one of your stationed guards.” The man finished and Wilbur immediately flicked off the TV.

Him and Techno shared a glance of pure shock. Wilbur shed a couple blue tears and immediately started panicking. The guard wrapped his brother until a tight hug and fought off the voices chants of “NOT SAFE”. Silence drew the pair into an unsteady atmosphere.

——————

“Honestly that kid is a burden. I don’t know why you think we can take care of him.” A lady said, fury wasn’t hidden behind a fake smile at this point. The man standing next to her nodded silently.

“Ma’am, I don't understand what you’re saying.” Another lady responded, patience running thin.

Tommy held back the tears that were threatening to fall. His lip was already bleeding and his fingers felt raw. His bruises were itching uncomfortably under his tight shirt. He was starting to overheat, yet kept his jacket wrapped around him protectively.

“What I am saying is, we don’t want him, and I doubt anyone else will.” The lady started, “That kid is a nuisance. He makes our children look problematic, when in reality he is the problem child. I don’t understand how his parents put up with him for so long.” The lady finished.

“Only my mother put up with me,” Tommy thought, “my father couldn’t spare me a glance without yelling at me..”

He sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours before making the decision. The one that caused him to live on the streets.

He took his bag and sprinted out of the facility. He just kept running, nowhere to go and no money to use.

….

Suddenly it was a different night. He was sitting on a park bench looking at the stars. He was somewhere in Colorado, not sure how he made it here, but here he was. He breathed in the fresher air and pushed himself up.

He turned left then right then another left. At this point he was on one of those nature paths that seemed to be everywhere.

He sat in a field. Wasn’t it night?

A light and a huge gust of wind was the only response he got.

Then footsteps. A distant scream. Then cold sharp pain accompanied by a void of darkness.

He woke up in a cage..

He shot up in bed.. His head throbbed, but there was no point in sleeping it off.

So he got up. He hobbled over to the bookshelf and looked at the weird games and toys. His eyes fell on what he presumed to be a stack of cards and a pen of sorts.

It took an hour to label all the cards, but when he finally did he played a game of solitaire. Then another and another. By the time he finished the sixth one he was bored.

He went back to inspecting the bookshelf. The middle shelf had jigsaw puzzles.. didn’t Clem like puzzles?

He picked out what he presumed to be a flower field. There were a bunch of blue sunflowers.. wasn’t that her favorite flower?

Tommy sat on the floor creating a puzzle his sister would’ve absolutely adored. Silent tears slipped down his cheeks every once and a while. Only to be hastily wiped away.

——————

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. They attempted to sit up only to find creaks in their back and neck.

After a minute he sat up. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but he made his way to the security office, ready to work through his sleep deprived state.

Before they even left the room Phil told them to go back to rest. Ranboo obliged, and closed his door.

Having no work left he decided to write down as much information as he could about both Earth and Tommy.

Surprisingly they were able to recall a lot of information from the night before. That usually didn’t happen..

Once they wrote an entire dictionary on both topics, they tried the door again.

Phil, once again stepped in front of them, “Mate, I really think you should rest.”

“I know, but I am hungry. Can I at least have lunch?” Ranboo felt like a child once again, but knew it always worked with the captain.

After Phil rolled his eyes, Ranboo practically skipped to the kitchen. He grabbed some of the leftovers from last night and popped it into the insta-heater. Making two plates of food.

After the food was ready he looked down either hallway. Phil was preoccupied with Wilbur in the common room. Deciding it was the best time to sneak to his friend, he made his way to the holding cell. Only to be stopped by none other than Techno himself.

“Oh! H-hi Techno..” Ranboo said awkwardly.

“What are you doing?”

“I-I was just getting Tubbo some lunch!” Ranboo cringed at their own lie. Only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

“Ok I was gonna visit Tommy.” Ranboo caved. That was the right answer as Techno nodded and let Ranboo pass.

“You’re only giving him lunch right?” Techno inquired.

“Er- that and talk a bit.. I mean that was my original plan.”

“Then I will stay with you.” Techno left no room for debate.

Ranboo nodded and approached the cell, setting the plate on the automatic tray. Techno stood in a small hallway allowing his presence only to be known to Ranboo.

Tommy was sitting on the floor putting together a landscape puzzle.

With what they saw, their curiosity intrigued them.

“Can I go in?” He asked first to Techno who shifted off of the wall.

“Only if I am in there.” Ranboo nodded and turned to Tommy who was busy with the puzzle.

Ranboo knocked on the window once. Tommy’s head shot up before the human stood up and approached the window.

“Hello!” Ranboo chirped, “I can see you’re working on a puzzle! I would love to help if you want? Me and my friend won’t go in if you don’t want me in there. But just so you know I brought lunch!”

Tommy stared at the enderian before answering. He was clearly debating the options.

“Only if Techno doesn’t talk.” Was the only response either got.

With that they grabbed the food and let the door open. Techno entered first, immediately going to the back chair and pulling out a novel. Ranboo handed Tommy a plate and sat next to the strange human.

It didn’t take them long for them to start rambling. Both about everything and nothing.

Surprisingly Ranboo lost all fear that should’ve been gripping them, and felt comfortable sitting with one of the most dangerous creatures in the galaxy.

——————

“So people are looking for you?” The captain asked, impatiently tapping his foot against the metal floor.

“To put it simply, yea..” Wilbur said pretty much losing all confidence within the span of an hour.

The caption responded with a sympathetic look and wrapped his son in another tight hug. Wilbur didn’t pull away this time. He melted into comfort.

After a minute the elder pulled away, “How about you watch one of those documentaries you like. I will make some iced fluff and join you in a bit.” The phantom nodded and trugged himself over to the common room sofa. Turning on the illusion and flicking to one of the only things the ISF was allowing people to view from Earth, Netflix.

He skimmed the documentary section and came upon one that was about the Ocean. Three minutes later he was completely into it.

Phil returned with two bowls of iced fluff. Wilbur dug into the sweet treat. Phil sat next Will and wrapped a wing around him, to which Will leaned into the embrace.

——————

“So what’s your favorite treat?” Ranboo asked, after he got another piece Tommy wasn’t able to get.

Tommy scoffed, mumbling about how he was just about to try that spot before answering the question, “I love Rocky Road Ice Cream. My mom made it without nuts so it is far superior to anything anyone would get from a store.” Tommy was satisfied with his answer and tried another piece.

“Hmm.. What is ice cream?”

“It’s a sweet frozen cream of sorts.”

“Oh so like iced fluff?”

“No idea, I would have to try it first..”

Both continued the conversation mumbling about other different foods and what not, before falling into a comfortable silence.

Tubbo was absolutely furious at the scene. He sprinted off to the garden where he slammed the door and melted to the floor.

When was the last time anyone had a conversation that was about everything and nothing with him?

He hated the fact he was jealous over a fucking human.

Tomorrow was the day he would prove the human wasn’t all he seemed to be. That the human was nothing more than a monster.

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Chapter 5-End

Words: 1826

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Notes: I still have a few filler chapters, but am getting there!!

Go take care of yourself, love ya!! <3

Reminder likes are appreciated but reblogs are even better! (Suggestion make a side blog where you just spam creators works... just saying, I have one..)

Also my layout for chapters has changed a bit. I have the last chapter at the top and the next one at the bottom.. and no I am not doing the inspired by on Ao3, simply cause it’s easier for people to see it in the first few, I am keeping it here tho, cause I know people aren’t really gonna see my first chapter right away. I will be keeping the link to the first chapter at the top as well just not the middle ones.

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Tubbo has evolved in to

J E L L Y B E E

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Chapter 6:

#tubbo #dream smp fanfiction #sbi au #my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #tommy mcyt #ranboo #philza #reblog #space au #angst #little bit of fluff #humans are space orcs

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highly-impatient · 4 years ago

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Missing Your Touch Ch. 1 (A Glimbow Fic)

Written By: highly-impatient or highly-impatient013

Summary: When you spend all your days together, it feels like years when you’re apart. Glimmer has been recently abducted to space stuck on Horde Prime’s ship as the Rebellion fights off the Horde’s soldiers on Etheria. This story re-imagines season five of She-Ra: Princess of Power as Glimmer and Bow confront their feelings of missing each other’s presence and touch. Expect angst, warmth, hurt, and a beautiful love story!

Available to read on FF.net

Will add it to AO3 as soon as I can

“You know looking back, it was quite obvious that I was jealous,” Glimmer laughed to herself. She had been locked away for who knows how many hours in an empty room. There was nothing but white walls, a large bed, and silence. No one could hear her, maybe Horde Prime, but it’s not like he would care. “When Perfuma asked you to the ball, I was mad you agreed because it was natural to always have you by my side. I felt like I was being left behind, and now, look at me. I’m all alone.” Tears rolled down Glimmer’s eyes. She and Bow always trusted each other. They were best friends, but after becoming queen, losing many in the Rebellion, and her...mother, things were not the same. Her insecurities crushed her, and she kept asking herself if she would ever be good enough. Would she ever be like her mother? And with Adora, Glimmer felt like their relationship had become fragile like eggshells. Glimmer knew others saw Adora as more of a leader. After all, she was She-ra. Glimmer could not help that every time she saw Adora that she was reminded of losing her mother after disobeying her orders. Like a knife plunging through the palm of her hands, Glimmer was left with her thoughts and emptiness, “Bow,” Glimmer whispered. “I miss you.”

“Glimmer!” Bow shouted. It was another nightmare, but could it be a nightmare if the event was real? Only a few hundred feet away, the moment of Glimmer being pulled into space by Horde Prime continued to replay in his dreams every night. He was so close but not close enough. Now, he had no idea what happened to her. What were they doing to her? Or worse, was she even alive? The thought sent an unnerving chill down his spine. The last time he saw Glimmer before she was abducted into space is when the three of them got into a fight. Bow could feel the lingering touch of Glimmer brushing her thumb against his calloused clamped hands. She had begged him to trust her. As much as Bow did trust Glimmer, she had been wrong. Trust comes from being honest and telling the truth, even if it is not something the other wants to hear. But why did she not trust him? It probably did not help that he and Adora had ignored her orders and went to Beast Island without her. Maybe if they had stuck together, they would not be in this mess. The two had spent everyday together for years, and Glimmer’s short absence felt like weeks. Glimmer had become more erratic since becoming queen, and Bow could tell that she was frustrated with how plans were falling apart. It was hard to watch knowing how optimistic she had been. Fighting a constant war was taxing on all of them, so when Bow grabbed onto Glimmer’s hand to comfort her, he did his best to empathize her pain and loneliness. When she pulled away, he could only think about how their intimate friendship was unraveling every passing second. Did she not trust him anymore? Were they not friends that could talk or let the other one know how they felt? Bow scratched the back of his head as he slid from under his covers. How did Bow feel? He already knew how he felt. The person he cared for most was gone, and he missed her dearly.

“Bow, are you up?” Adora whispered. “I couldn’t sleep either.”

Bow replied, “Yea.” Bow got up, in which he came face-to-face with Adora when he exited the tent. After Horde Prime had located Etheria, Bright Moon had been overtaken. They had lost many in the Rebellion, while whoever was left remained in the tents. They were constantly on the move. Adora and Bow sat themselves across each other on logs separated by a burning fire. Streaks of red, orange, and amber shifted in front of them. The sounds of crickets and a gusting wind filled up the air void of their voices.

Adora spoke, “It’s all my fault, Bow.”

“No, it’s mine,” Bow said.

Adora shook her head, “If I hadn’t insisted that we go to Beast Island, then Glimmer would still be here. If She-ra was still--”

“No, it was the right thing to do. We brought back Entrapta, and we found King Micah. We stopped the Heart of Etheria.” Bow swallowed what felt like a lump in his throat before continuing, “I wasn’t fast enough. I was so close, and I let her disappear right before my eyes.” It was clear that Bow was trying to hold back his tears until they had begun to drip like a faulty faucet. Adora ran up to Bow wrapping her arms around his shoulders as the two clung onto each other. Their hearts ached losing their close friend.

“We will get her back,” Adora muffled out of her throat strained from emotion.

Morning came and the Rebellion was back to its regular duties of recovering towns from the Horde. Strategic meetings about what to do next along with the knowledge of safe zones were extensively discussed.

“Entrapta!” Bow called. “Do you think we will be able to fix Mara’s ship for outer space?”

“Space travel!” Entrapta smiled. “I just have to run some tests. With some adjustments and my tools, Darla will be ready to go. Emily, we got work to do!” Entrapta was overjoyed at the thought of seeing what was beyond their planet.

Bow looked up to the sky as the clouds drifted slowly. The stars were dim and not yet in sight, but there was a world outside of Etheria, “ We may not know where you are or how to find you, but I’m bringing you home, Glimmer.”

Puzzled by Bow staring up at the sky while holding his electronic communication device, Micah finally decided to approach Bow with a question that he had on his mind for some time now. Micah asked, “Bow, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, King Micah, sir,” Bow stood upright.

Micah glanced over at the boy before proceeding with his question, “Are you dating my daughter?”

Bow was flustered by the unexpected question and his cheeks blushed briefly. It was not the first time he had been asked this question, but Micah had been rescued from Beast Island a week ago. “N-no, sir. Glimmer is just my best friend.”

Micah sighed in relief, “Okay. I like you boy, but my Glimmer is too young to be dating.” Micah patted Bow on the shoulder. Micah had no clue how old Glimmer was. It never bothered Bow that people had mistook them for a couple. When you spend that much time with someone, it’s understandable that anyone outside of the relationship may see differently. It had been weirder that Micah had also made that assumption since he had never seen Bow and Glimmer interact with one another. There was a tightness in Bow’s chest.

“Yes, sir” Bow responded. Micah returned as they were prepping to split into groups for the next mission. The tightness in Bow’s chest had not lightened up. Micah’s question repeated again in Bow’s mind. Are you dating my daughter? For just an instant, an image of Glimmer smiling had crossed his mind. This time, Bow’s chest began to thump and Bow looked down confused by the offset feeling, “That’s weird.”

A/N: I originally wanted to post this first on Fanfiction, but I have to wait 12 hours before I post after creating a new account. I wanted to start a new account since my other one is when I was 12. AO3 says I have to wait for an invite link, but the other chapters will be posted on there. Hopefully, you enjoy the story so far because I really love Glimbow as well as all of the characters. I’ve re-watched this show like 5 times already T_T

#she-ra #spop #glimmer #bow #glimbow #glow #fanfic #glimbowfic #adora #entrapta #micah #glimbow fic #glimbow fics #glimmerbow

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thatpinkbetch · 4 years ago

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Bkdk Fic Rec

I’ve been inspired to write a fic rec! This one goes out to you @lonely-rabbit

At like, the end of 2018 and the beginning of 2019 I stayed up until 4am every night reading fics, and because I’m such a loser, I made a word doc to keep track of all of them so I wouldn’t forget them.... I tried organizing it by length but it got messy cause I’m ridiculous and cluttered, so sorry! (I’ll save my own for the end alskdjflsdkfj gotta self promote you know). This is going to get...really long, so I’ll put it under a read more! Also, just a heads up, these are all on ao3, in case that’s important to anyone!

Disclaimer: Any fics with mature or explicit content I will add a bolded warning for, even if it’s only a little bit. Normally most fics will be tagged as such, but some fics that are rated as teen I’ve found to be more suggestive than some of those rated as mature, so I will try to point it out where it feels necessary, for anyone who wishes to avoid it.

Fics under 1k:

Illuminate by TheQueen (269 words)

Summary: Bakugou watches the first firework launch and fights to keep his face neutral

Very short, plot is about a case of amnesia, also very cute and well written for that length! Not angsty at all imo

sweaty hands holding secrets - shounentwink (563 words)

Summary: Someone said Midoriya holds secrets in his hair.

It’s not true: He holds it tightly in his hands. Bakugou’s seen it.

I really like this writer! You’ll see quite a bit of them in this post alkdsjfalskdjf

Fics 1k - 10k:

Many sunflowers later - Jeka (2395 words)

Summary: Scholar Midoriya Izuku comes back to the person he left behind after his journey through the kingdom, the mighty dragon clan leader Bakugou Katsuki.

Day 1 of Twin Stars Week 2020: Fantasy AU.

First of all, fantasy au!!! Second of all, jeka!!! (I need to read more of your stuff!!) Anyways, so cute, such lovely, pretty writing, wonderful story telling, and they’re so in love TT_TT

Boom Badoom Boom - warschach (3429 words)

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

This one’s a little silly but I love it still. It’s got a “kids in the 80′s over summer vacation” vibe, I think. I love warschach! I should read more of their writing... They have SUCH good bakudeku content! *It’s rated teen but there’s some suggestive content, just a heads up!

Hopeless Ramen-tic - lalazee (7155 words)

Summary: Midoriya is a cute guy who works at a ramen stall and Bakugou is thirsty as hell, but has to hide it by being an asshat. Another love story.

Ah, so good TT_TT so much sass, such good plot development and story telling for a simple concept *It’s rated as teen but again, it can be suggestive at times!

I’ll share this with you, so leave it behind - yabakuboi (3508 words)

Suammry: For the sake of the story, All Might is never in need of a successor, and, when Izuku saves Katsuki from the sludge monster, encourages young Midoriya down a different path. Thus, Katsuki and Izuku part ways after junior high, as Katsuki enters U.A. and the Midoriyas move overseas. It’s later that Katsuki realizes that there’s something missing, that he drove that something away.

Years after, Katsuki finds him in the last place he looks, in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store of their childhood neighborhood.

So soft, so sweet, so good if you just want to curl up in a comfy blanket and drink hot cocoa and feel warm and cozy and a little in love

The Secret Deku Box - yabakuboi (2241 words)

Summary: “Y’know, Bakugou never, ever talks about girls,” Kaminari says, his voice thoughtful.

“And I wonder why that is.” Ashido rolls her eyes.

“I’m just curious!” Kaminari whines. Kirishima drags the box out, unlabeled and unassuming, the lid not even fully clasped over the edges. “The guy has to— Whoa, what’s that?”

Kirishima realizes a little belatedly that this is a serious breach of privacy, and Bakugou will actually murder all of them. “Nothing!” he cries, attempting to shove it back under the bed, but Ashido snatches it away.

“Please be his porn stash!” Kaminari whispers as she whips the lid off.

Cute, funny, in canon, in character, and a must read I would say!

daisy bunches and heather branches - halcyonwhispers (5862 words)

Summary: izuku falls in love with the foul-mouthed tattoo artist next door.

Not another flower/tattoo shop au.... aldskjflaskdjfd Okay but punk!Bakugou is ALWAYS a smart move imo

the best part of me (is the worst I can give) - halcyonwhispers (5668)

Summary: Whole sentences usually make up people’s Words, but Katsuki got stuck with a name instead.

Izuku’s name.

I am such a sucker for soulmate aus when it comes to these boys TT_TT *There is some mature content, just a heads up!

Hard to Say - halcyonwhispers (8390 words)

Summary: Izuku is a Halfling, born after his faerie father spirited away his mom and then left her behind. Never quite fitting in with the humans or any of the supernatural beings in his small town, Izuku hoped that going to a diverse college in the big city will help him finally make friends.

Katsuki’s family has been powerful witches for generations, and he’s no different. Talented and a proclaimed genius to boot, he knew he shouldn’t waste his time on this dumbass (disgustingly cute) half-blood.

Or,

two idiots fall in love and don’t get that the other’s awkward cues are just a result of romantic tension.

I am ALSO a sucker for fantasy/mythical creatures au and I LOVED this one - Bakugou absolutely unable to handle how cute Midoriya is? Perfection - but it’s unfinished, and I don’t think it ever will be continued, unfortunately TT_TT

lots to unpack (throw away the whole suitcase) - shounentwink (4315 words)

Summary: “How’d you know?” Midoriya asks.

There’s a hunch to his shoulders that wasn’t there three hours ago. Freckled shoulders are kissed sunburnt and red: he looks like someone ran him over and left him like roadkill in the sunlight. Bakugou’s working with insurance today, but he could see the sparks of green lightning even from his elevated position in their shared agency. Midoriya’s holding his thumb, cracking it over and over — it looks like he’s rubbed it raw.

“Dunno,” Bakugou says. “Maybe you’re just easy to read, nerd.”

I love this one so much, it was one of the first ones I read, it’s so good, and it’s another that really affected how I view their relationship! Idk this one just hit for me

hang the moon from us (it’s a no from me) - shounentwink (1200 words)

Summary: Midoriya’s gonna get sick of Bakugou one of these days, and then the whole ruse will be over, and the balance of power will tilt beyond salvation, but that day isn’t today and it looks like Bakugou knows it.

What an asshole.

Once again, I’m a sucker for the fantasy au... But even more, the diction, the details, the imagery...it’s absolutely all stunning here. I wish I could write this pretty

In Which Bakugou Finds His One Tru Luv - Erina (5862 words) This is the first one of a series called The Misadventures of Explodo-kill Agency!

Summary: Welcome to the Explodo-kill agency! We can destroy your buildings, crash your cars, and help you solve one of the seven mysteries in life: who is Bakugou Katsuki's mysterious boyfriend?!

I’ll admit I’ve only read the first three but by god they are the funniest fics I’ve ever read in my life. I see that Erina has added more since the last time I checked it out! Tbh I was only interested in reading the purely bakudeku ones... (My favorite was the second one!! SO funny and cute!)

i still do - raeryn (9646 words)

Summary: He’s losing him to pieces, but Izuku still tries to make them count. In which a battle leaves Bakugou Katsuki with amnesia, and Izuku finds himself picking up the pieces.

So, this one makes me cry. TT_TT

One Thing Straight - winningshot (9899 words)

Summary: They totally aren't.

Hints of their relationship is found in all of their friends’ social media accounts, but majority of their fans still think that Katsuki and Izuku are in relationships with anybody but each other.

It was amusing up until it became sad.

Lmao it’s a little salty but I guess I can be too. This is a social media fic! There’s multiple ships in this one, too

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF - kewltie (8472 words)

Summary: Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

Okay kewltie is SO GOOD and very creative! The formatting is phenomenal, it’s like you’re actually experiencing a social media melt down in real time lol

be my good luck charm - writedeku (6785 words)

Summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest travelling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

Oh I adore this one! It’s so cute and such a good narrative! Nice and warm, and Bakugou trying his damnedest to be suave, and it somehow working because Midoriya is just as flustered. *Another one rated as teen but some suggestive content.

Smells Like Victory - majjale (2377 words)

Summary: Bakugou takes two steps into the room and stops, clapping a hand over his nose. “Ugh, what stinks like Deku in here?”

"Good afternoon, Bakugou. That would be the amortentia."

I must admit, not a fan of HP, but majjale...TT_TT majjale writes these two boys so well. This one is really, really good!

Cherish Me - Justaperson1718 (2376 words)

Summary: “What?”

Izuku looked back down at his menu and flipped the page, a small smile on his face. “Nothing.”

Katsuki glared at Izuku from across the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be staring at me.”

“It’s just a little funny watching you try to look your best for our date when you always look great anyway,” Izuku explained. He wouldn’t look up from his menu while he spoke, but his words remained ingrained with confidence nevertheless. He considered what he was saying to be fact, and nothing else. “Even when you’re not trying in front of the cameras, it’s still hard to take my eyes off of you.”

This is a sequel to a fic that’ll be in the next section, because it’s longer, called Manage Me. Please read that one first before this one! (Not part of a series, but they’re the same story line)

Fascinating - Justaperson1718 (1556 words)

Summary: “I’m not staring at you,” Izuku replied, his eyes focused intently on Katsuki. He’s still wearing his pajamas, sitting on his knees in their shared bed. He was awake moments before Katsuki, and waited eagerly for the other to awake.

Katsuki glanced over his shoulder after his shirt was on and glared. “You’re fucking staring at me right now.”

Izuku shook his head, humming his disapproval quietly. “I’m watching you.”

“That’s the same damn thing,” Katsuki said while searching for a pair of pants in the dresser. “Your eyes are fixated on me like I’m your life’s fucking goal or some shit.”

“I just like watching you get dressed.” Izuku tilted his head to the side and smiled softly at Katsuki’s confused stare. “I know, it’s weird. But I like it.”

*There is a little bit of implied mature content, but overall, it’s just so sweet and intimate, and I just simply adore this one.

in a place once filled with gold - dorenamryn (9226 words)

Summary: It felt strange to remember such details, for they were things a friend should know, and as far as Katsuki was concerned, he and Deku hadn’t been friends in a very, very long time. He could admit, with reluctance, that they were on the path there, now, even though they would never make it. Katsuki would die before they could get the chance.

or: There is a garden growing in Katsuki’s lungs, and he is helpless to stop it.

“Hanahaki disease” okay, I can explain myself. Okay, I can’t. In any case, you got angst with a happy ending if that’s what you’re into!

Kaleidoscope - DPRenFTW (5141 words)

Summary: Izuku is a witch. He just needs to find his familiar. Enter a boy that is a wolf, and a wolf that is a boy - with wild red eyes and sharp smiles.

And Izuku thinks:

"Oh, it's him."

Just as beautiful and fascinating as the name implies! I seriously recommend for the beautiful writing, the gorgeous world, the mythical creatures au, and the lovely bakudeku romance!

Learning Curve - sensiblysilly (4222 words)

Summary: Deku and Katsuki’s first kiss goes rather differently than planned.

And Katsuki’s quickly learning that relationships can be unpredictable - especially when taking into account the variable that is Midoriya Izuku.

This really is just a careful handling of a teenage romance where perhaps one of them may have shit they’re still working through. It’s really sweet, and a careful study at boundaries and the building of a relationship. I actually stumbled across this while looking for another with the same name and ended up pleasantly surprised. Kacchan can has a little validation, as a treat.

4/20 is a national holiday - Ereri_Garbage (

Summary: Izuku is a drug dealer that doesn't really accept the fact he's a drug dealer, Katsuki is hot as hell as shouldn't be allowed a facebook.

Happy (Late) birthday Katsuki and happy (late) 4/20. I actually half assed an edit on this one so it took longer to post than I thought it would.

Uummmm lmao yes I have a sense of humor. ;ALDSKJFLSKDJF Okay, I say that, but this is not a crack fic, it’s a good story that I enjoy with good writing, and *it has mature, content, obviously for multiple reasons here. It’s rated as mature but there are borderline explicit moments imo. It’s a fun fic and funny, too! And, ngl, it really does remind me of college... But forget about me, the bakudeku is wonderful too of course :)

Drinking Watermelon - warschach (8906 words)

Summary: For whatever reason, maybe divine fate, Izuku turned and looked over his shoulder and waved to them.

Katsuki’s heart full on stopped right then, and his fingers forgot their duty on the rails, and his body neglected its job to keep Katsuki balanced.

Izuku’s summer sweet smile fell into concern as Katsuki went airborne and cracked his skull on the porch.

or Katsuki works as a camp counselor, and Izuku is a boy made of summer heat and sunlight.

Love it when people have Bakugou as absolutely enamored with Midoriya; it’s so good and true. Anyways this one makes me like summer camp story lines. It’s funny and also cute and great writing! *It’s got explicit content, just a heads up. Warschach stories just have this youthful 80′s vibe, I don’t know how else to explain it.

there are listed buildings - semiautomatichearts (3309)

Summary: Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Ah...soulmates :) So interesting how bakudeku fits into soulmate aus like this one when they’ve known each other as kids! And when they’ve had this complex push and pull thing going on all their lives! The writing is beautiful, and so is the story!

Promise Ring - bkdkwritingsdump (3579)

Summary: The midwest in the 1950′s is no place for boys who like kissing boys: something Izuku and Katsuki know all too well growing up there. However, the undeniable bond between the nervous science geek and the aloof delinquent will still find a way to blossom in such a desert.

Cute, sweet, makes my gay heart ache. Longing not just for the one you love, but just to feel right loving them. Very pretty story line, lovely story telling!

Fics 10k - 30k:

Fishy - warschach (19417 words)

Summary: Izuku’s convinced his hot co-worker/neighbor, Katsuki, is a mermaid-or merman- you gotta consider genders even with mythical creatures- and plans to prove it.

(or this is kinda like the show ‘Monster Quest’, except Izuku actually finds said monster, falls in love, and have sexy times.)

Another warschach! I love this one, I love how they write bakudeku, particularly as college students, their stories (at least, the ones that I’ve read) always feel so warm, like a summer’s day, but not a lazy one, one that’s playful? If that makes sense? *This one is explicit, another heads up!

Manage Me - Justaperson1718 (10756 words)

Summary: Izuku caught himself moving forward, his head tilted somewhat to the side, and his eyes shot wide open. His gaze met Katsuki’s half-lidded eyes now that he was no longer in a dreamlike state, and seeing the way Katsuki was looking at him—waiting for him—made him realize Katsuki would’ve let him do it. He might have even wanted him to do it.

“You’re both doing fabulous!” the photographer called out to them, packing his camera into his bag and getting ready to leave. “I just got word that what we have now should be good, so we’ll stop there. Thank you for your time! Lock the door on your way out after you change.”

The pair stayed frozen in place, with Izuku’s arms around Katsuki’s neck and Katsuki’s hands resting on Izuku’s waist, while the photographer and his supervisor left.

“Kacchan,” Izuku cooed once they were gone. “Did you want to…?”

Love the story, love the bakudeku! Very, very good bakudeku TT_TT very sweet *There is some mature content in here as well

point to a map (we’ve been there) - cosmicfuss (10589 words)

Summary: Serendipity / sĕr″ən-dĭp′ĭ-tē Serendipity is the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery. Two men find themselves on a subway, hot coffee on one while the other is in the middle of a screaming match. After that they can't seem to stop finding each other, no matter how far they go.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this fic owns my entire soul. I love the story, the ease of their relationship, just how lovely they are together. It’s another kind of nice, fluffy fic you’d read on a bad day where you come home and curl up in a blanket and listen to a ten hour video of thunderstorm white noise. *Again, some more mature content in here

Partners - tsukithewolf (13619 words) Another series! Two parts to this one this time

Summary: It is said that in Musutafu there is a charm that one can buy at a temple that will lead you to your destined partner. They say that if the charm works, you would be able to follow the red string of fate to the person you were meant to be with. And if the person returns your feelings, they would be able to see the string as well, proving that both were meant to be.

Three-year-old Katsuki and Izuku misunderstand what the word "partner" means and discover the charm and the rumor behind it is not only true, but more than expected.

Gets a little heavy, depression, bullying, suicidal thoughts, etc. But it must get worse before it gets better, that kind of thing. I also just adore the second part (called Bond) - maybe because it’s much fluffier, what about it?

Learning Curve - iknewaman (10304 words)

Summary: “Izuku.” Uraraka repeats as she motions at the person stood next to her. Green curls, average height, and, well. Up close, not such a bad smile. Uraraka points a thumb at Bakugou and enunciates slowly, “This is Bakugou. He can speak sign language too.”

Wait. Sign language?

The stranger— well, Izuku— looks at him with a raised brow. Their free hand lifts up as they make a slight motion of the hand.‘

Really?’

Bored out of his mind at a house party one night Bakugou is introduced to Izuku, a deaf student who offers to help teach Bakugou sign language in exchange for a favour-- or well, is prompted into asking for a favour.

Ah, I really want to explain this one a little bit? I’d never been into fanfiction ever, only really getting into it with these boys. This was the second one I read, I remember, and it caught me off guard, and it intrigued me. It really surprised me as to what fanfiction could be. Ngl I had biased perceptions of fanfics - I used to be one of those people who thought fanfiction could never be good writing - and this one slapped me in the face with it’s subtle beauty and creative story and heart melting capabilities, and very, very real relationship and growth. Anyways it’s so cute how happy Deku is to teach Kacchan sign language TT_TT Make sure to read the tags!

The Keeper and the Sun God’s Heir - SurelyHeavenWaits (12746 words)

Summary: The Titans' have stolen something important from Izuku, heir of the Sun God, and he wants it back.

This one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one, this one this one- Oh my god this one. Okay so what, I was a Percy Jackson kid, what about it? I love the mythical aus, particularly the god ones. But beyond that, the writing is so beautiful, just like the world, and the imagery. The bakudeku...absolutely stunning. The story itself? Incredible. Cannot recommend more. *There is explicit content in this, though I will say, it’s all in the last chapter, and all of the story is in the first two chapters. There’s also a second part as it’s a series and it’s short but it’s cute and sweet TT_TT

seven days - aaAAAaaahhhhHHHHH (10094 words)

Summary: There’s something about the green haired boy, an aura that just drew Katsuki in before he even knew his name.

[Sometimes your mind forgets, but your heart remembers]

Heed my warning: DON’T read this in front of other people. I bawl every time I read this one TT_TT I know I said I don’t like angst but AJLSKDFJALSKDFJ it has a hopeful ending! I mean yeah you’re gonna cry but...hope? :’) (that username really says it all tbh)

Fics 30k+

Notice me, nerd - useless_donut (40000 words)

Summary: Bakugou is in love with Midoriya. He doesn’t hide it, in fact it’s so painfully obvious that the entire class of 3-A has him figured out in a matter of months (days, in some cases). Too bad Midoriya is the most oblivious motherfucker out there, and Bakugou is too damn stubborn to actually ask him out.

Will the class of 3-A survive the sexual tension? Who will snap first? Someone put Bakugou out of his misery, please, before everyone else dies of second-hand embarrassment.

(a love story as witnessed by the class of 3-A)

Love the idea of Bakugou being brazen and brash, cause yeah, he is. So fucking funny though how that translates to him flirting. Gotta say, thought I was gonna cringe, but his “I’m gay af” outfit really ended up being A Look. Love the mutual pining, it really is strong in this one. *Okay, mature content in this one lads.

While You Were Sleeping - Belkacaramelka (71197 words)

Summary: The one where quirkless fanboy Midoriya Izuku rescues Pro Hero Todoroki Shouto, gets mistaken as his fiancé while he is in a coma, and gets caught up in the most unlikely fake engagement... until his childhood enemy and Todoroki's classmate Bakugou Katsuki tries to catch him out, and they both end up discovering a lot more about each other than they'd expected.

Quirkless AU based on the film; endgame BakuDeku. -- Katsuki didn’t know when the change had happened: how he had gone from asking why Todoroki chose Deku of all people, to wondering why it was Todoroki that Deku chose. Troublesome Deku, who cooed like an idiot at cats, tripped at a random catcall and sang badly. Who, despite everything, proved that it wasn’t the quirk that defined a person. Deku, who was too much, not his, and undeniably off limits to begin with.

Update: Epilogue added

*This one has mature content. If you can, please, for the love of god, read this fic. It’s like, tied with my favorite bkdk fic perhaps ever. It’s based on the movie of the same title, a nineties romcom with Sandra Bullock, but Belkacaramelka has so effortlessly made it into it’s own story, fit it so perfectly inside of the bnha world. I definitely stayed up until 6:30am reading this one. It’s got such good badass Midoriya, who is also sweet, and really really good reconciliation between bakudeku.

All Gifted - fitzefitcher (39129 words)

Summary: The thing about gifts is that they're meant to be given, they're meant to be shared; so Izuku will take his gifts, so freely given to him, and share them with all he holds dear.

Izuku is born without any gifts, as his kind often are, to a witch mother and salamander father, on one sweltering night in July.

This one is unfinished...and I highly doubt it will ever be. But what has been written is incredible. Once again, I’m a sucker for the magic/mythical creatures aus. But the relationship is great! The characterization is great! The found family trope that was building up is great!

under a hollow sun - umbrage (40572 words)

Summary: Midoriya is cursed with emptiness.

Misfortune leads him to a man of ancient magic and endless rage.

To stop an unfathomable evil, their mismatched halves must become whole.

Uuuggghhhh this was so good! I don’t think it’s going to be finished either :( Once again, fantasy au, more amazing writing, on point characterization, incredible pacing, makes you hungry for more story.

all the savage soul requires - majjale (58032 words)

Summary: Bakugou seems to have exhausted his patience for words and no longer acknowledges that Midoriya exists, so Midoriya crosses his legs, stares down at his hands limned in firelight, and makes a list of things he knows.

One. His name is Midoriya Izuku.

Two. He is a Godmarked, future god of life, heir to the divine throne.

Three. The gods have been fighting Death for eons, and now he's coming for recompense with everything he’s got.

This is majjale, so of course, the writing is more than beautiful; it’s absolutely breathtaking. This may be my favorite fic ever - unfortunately I don’t think it will ever be finished either TT_TT There’s the gods/fantasy au, which you know by now I love. But the characterization of our two boys is absolutely perfect, and I mean that as literally as possible. And the story being crafted between the two, the memory loss, the obvious history muddled by it all, it was so dense, and the PINING, so incredibly written, flowing so naturally. It wasn’t even close to being done, but it was wonderful, still is wonderful.

My Writing: (You can skip this if you hate shameless self promotion)

You’re too damn flicking cute (1815 words)

Summary: Bakugou is certain his shitty boyfriend is instigating kisses. Maybe it doesn't help that he keeps giving them away like it's a damn going out of business sale, but the stupid nerd is too fucking cute. Either way, like everything else, this is a competition, and he's going to win it.

Please don’t read this unless you’re going to the dentist afterwards! I’ve been told it’s so sweet it’ll give you instant cavities >_>;;;;

Bakugou Katsuki, you smooth motherfucker (10118 words)

Summary: Everyone around him knows that Bakugou Katsuki has a very special way with words. To the untrained ear he is loud and crass; to those that speak Kacchan, he is caring and inspiring. Yet there are rare moments, moments so fleeting you blink and you miss them, where Bakugou’s words pierce straight through Midoriya’s chest, and surprise everyone around him.

Goddammit, if only he would say them to Midoriya’s face.

Or, the five times Bakugou said something nice about Midoriya, and the one time he said something kind to him (but that was too long of a title).

I think most would consider this my best published fic; it’s one of those snapshot fics, “the five times where x did this, and the one time where they didn’t.” The recurring comment I get on this one is both of them being super in character, so I think that’s it’s defining characteristic! Bakugou and Midoriya have never known a life without the other, and in a perfect world, they never will.

Here, let me fix that (11247 words)

Summary: Bakugou honestly never thought he’d see Deku ever again. And now that they were together in this tiny compartment, alone for the next two and a half minutes, he had no clue what to say. He’d just apologized, right? So perhaps he could leave it at that and carry on with the original plan to never see the green-haired man that reminded him of dense forests, late night adventures, and tear-stained faces, ever again.

Ha! Who is he kidding? These bitches are soulmates.

I’ve gotten some critiques on this one, so sorry in advance if it’s not to your liking! Basically, what if Midoriya never got his quirk? Obviously, life would find a way to put them together because, as previously stated, these bitches are soulmates.

Plenty of Time (16654 words)

Summary: Bakugou found what little sleep he got restless and filled with nightmares that he forgot the second he opened his eyes. Tonight was the first time in a long time where he just had a normal dream - and it happened to be about Deku.

How fucking typical.

In other words, two dorks realize they have feelings for each other but don't know what to do about said feelings.

Ah, my first fic. Very simple, boys being boys, kinda like a slow burn? Idk how to explain this one, just boys figuring out their feelings and trying to figure out what to do about them. Been told these two are a little stupid but I think that’s valid.

We’re all time bombs waiting to explode (39223 words)

Summary: We have now entered the slipstream of time, into an alternate dimension where it neither is, nor isn’t, the 80’s. Two teenagers, burdened with the weight of adolescence in the modern world, find themselves struggling side by side, in part because of each other.

Bakugou, the most popular boy in school, has everything he could possibly want; status, power, and an unbreakable will. Having been dragged along behind him all the way to the top, Midoriya can’t help but wonder how (and why) he ended up standing beside his childhood friend-turned bully-turned friend again, weighed down by their complicated past and present. As the tension between them grows every day, and the arrival of a new, pretty face causes it to peak, it won’t be long before something - or someone - snaps.

I am...very bad at titles, and summaries apparently. This was my Heathers au, but it very quickly diverges from the original (I don’t do sad endings....) *This one has mature content, including implied sexual activity, drug use, and underage drinking, along with other heavy topics; please read the tags! Though tbh Midoriya is 17 for a couple weeks before it hits his birthday halfway through, so keep that in mind I guess? I kind of went heavy with this one, but I think the pay off was immense. This is the one with the most amount of comments stating it’s their favorite bkdk fic ever (and I cry). It’s a rough start, with a rough journey, but so is bakudeku! There’s a lot of petty drama, and then all of a sudden it’s Not That Petty and very much Far Too Real. Many have cried reading the ending, I cried writing it. My sister says it’s her favorite of mine. Now, I did kind of push this out without polishing it so much because I was losing my willpower, so if it feels lacking, that’s one hundred percent my fault.

Okay that was a lot! It took me a couple days...I hope I wasn’t too annoying with all my opinions! Please have a nice day. and enjoy some good reads, even if they aren’t the ones in this post!

#bakudeku #katsudeku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha #bkdk #fics #my writing #god i really hope i didn't fuck up any of this #i spent a long time on it alksdjflaskjdflkasdjf #this is 39 fics without my own #and 44 including mine #i can tell i've forgotten some but #idk it's hard TT_TT #anyways it's 2:30am #if i go to bed at 4am one more time i'm gonna throw myself down a flight of stairs #i hope this is good enough as is!#most of this was written very late so I hope it doesn't sound...crazed

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milky-maid-library · 4 years ago

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I Am Sorry, Here is why:

Hello to smut writers on Tumblr,

My name is Milky and in the past others have known me as Miss Hush…and before that I was Shellberry. I intend on keeping Milky longest.

It’s something I really want to get off my page since I’m a desperate believe that kink is not a safe place for minors and minors need to stick to school and real world problems or pg+ 13 fanfiction.

I first signed up to AO3 in 2014. Let that sink in. My birthday is 3rd October 2001 (I’m a libra bishes). It was just after my 13th birthday I signed up to AO3 and began writing my first romance fanficitons under the name Shellberry WITH THE ABSOLUTE WORST PUNCTUATION AND GRAMMAR.

I began watching porn out of curiosity and discovered hardcore bdsm straight away. (Id like you all to note that I had never really used laptops until this point and time, I had started living with my grandparents at the start of 2013 after I ran away from my abusive household.) I was prone to this shit without guidance or anyone to tell me what I was doing was wrong. I also was told most of my life that I was “mature for my age” and believed that gave me a right to be viewing ‘adult content’. I then realised I loved reading and writing more and more than watching porn.

I came across my first Kidnapping/non-con fic and was blown away by the scariness and creativity in the plot. And I saw that smutty fics were getting a lot of attention in views and comments. As a victim of abuse I YEARNED for praise and attention… I then began a naughty habit of copyright in which I would steal and reword smut stories. One day I copied from a book called Mackenzie’s Mountain (still one of my favourite smutty books hehehe) and yea…. I was called out. It wasn’t long before I deleted my account. By this point it was 2016, I was now calling myself Miss Hush. And the habit vaguely continued, I tried writing the spy type genre with a fanfiction (still in my files) called A Game of Love.

Take note 2016, the presidential election was on. And I come from a incredibly conservative household and even though I lived in Australia….I cringe incredibly hard now….I was happy to call myself a trump supporter (but his propaganda is very convincing for young 14-15 year old me). I am no longer a trump supporter as of early 2020. I really started to talking to other people and realising that oh my god I’m a sheltered country mouse without realising it. Where does this play? Well I have been a Christian by choice since I was nine years old….and in 2016 I felt that writing fanfictions were dirty and wrong and if I continued to watch porn or think too sexually before marriage, I would be going to hell…. SO my writing floundered a lot and I couldn’t keep up with my updating promises. It continued to be like this until I gave up in 2018, I stopped writing for a very very, very long time…and then I confessed to a adult smut writer my true age and they were quick to explain to me what I was doing was wrong and needed to be rethought out. SO I deleted my account again.

2019 I came back but organised and under the name Milky Maid no more editing and claiming peoples fanfictions. I was still a minor, aged 17. I vaguely held that “Im told im mature its ok” mentality in my head. I started Yo hoe ho and A Lesson In service, both with girls around 16-19 (I need to recheck their ages).

I’m taking those fics down btw because they need editing and I just don’t feel comfortable with the way I left hem uncompleted.

The year is 2021, I am now 19 and I have upbranded myself to Milky Maid Library. So why am I confessing all of this?

Because of shame. I feel terrible that for so long I’ve lied or made myself appear innocent? I think a apology is due to every adult that I lied to back in the day (what’s ironic is I would say “I’m 19” but now I am actually 19 which is crazy and makes me feel old and embarrassed of kid me). I am sorry to you all, I am sorry to those who I stole from…not that I actually remember the names which could be seen as worse. I am sorry that I attempt to be a high and mighty wise woman when I have coincidentally been in the spot of those I disapprove of. I am ashamed I didn’t stop and live my life appropriately. I am sorry that I gave false hope to readers that didn’t realise I was writing porn and essays at the same time.

I need to make this clear, I don’t believe minors should interact with adults. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from entering this realm too early. I am sorry I did this. I hope I didn’t hurt anyone, but I could have possibly.

I will be sending this post to those who I remember talking too. This needs to be confronted, I want to make amends….lol look at me being Bucky…

Thankyou to all that have read this post, I will not be surprised of have any ill feelings to those who want to unfollow, comment/reply critiquing my choices.

#discourse #writing #archive of our own #ao3 #Fanfiction #writing Fanfiction #tw mentions of abuse #minors in kink #mik

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the-truest-sentence-i-know · 4 years ago

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Rogue Demigod - Chapter One

Fandom: Percy Jackson & the Olympians

Pairing: Annabeth Chase x Percy Jackson

Summary: Two years after Luke Castellan's demigod rebellion was ruthlessly crushed by the Olympians, Annabeth realizes that a string of attacks against minor gods across the country might be the actions of another half-blood. Determined to not let history repeat itself, she leaves camp to meet them. Au where Percy never went to Camp Halfblood.

Word Count: 3.5k | 1/?

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad ||| quotev

As Annabeth walked into Chiron’s office in the Big House, she noticed the shimmering remnant of an Iris message. Behind the glimpses of rainbow that hung in the air, Chiron’s face was grim.

“Another attack?” she asked.

Chiron nodded wearily. “A minor god in Texas, not far from Houston. Tyche, goddess of luck, destiny, and fortune.”

“Did she see what attacked her?” Annabeth sat down on the edge of Chiron’s desk.

He shook his head. “Same as the others. A sudden deluge of water, which got her off-guard as well as temporarily blinding her. But she swears whatever it was had a celestial bronze weapon.”

“Maybe it’s not a monster,” Annabeth suggested, putting a pin in Houston on a map already covered in pins.

“What else would it be?” Chiron asked. “All the Titans were accounted for, as well as the other minor gods and goddesses. Besides, they would have been able to do a lot more damage. Tyche was shaken and a bit injured, but not severely. It is entirely possible that a monster happened to have a celestial bronze weapon that it got from a previous fight.”

Annabeth stared at the map, unconvinced. There was something weird about this.

“With camp starting up again this week, we’ll be able to send out a quest,” Chiron said. “Then we will know more about this, and hopefully be done with it. The gods are growing impatient with our inaction.”

Annabeth frowned. “And of course they can’t do anything about it,” she muttered.

Chiron looked at her reproachingly.

“I didn’t mean that,” she said quickly, then sighed. “So, who are you going to send?”

“Not you, Annabeth,” Chiron said, kindly but firmly. “You know the gods wouldn’t approve of you going, and besides, I need you here.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean me,” Annabeth said. “I was just curious. If this thing can take on minor gods, we need to send someone who can handle it.”

Chiron nodded. “I’ll ask for volunteers and choose from them.” He watched as Annabeth continued to look at the map. “Can I have your word that you’ll focus on getting the camp up and running and not on this?”

Pulled out of her thoughts, Annabeth quickly turned away from the map. “Of course,” and she quickly left the room.

Something about this was nagging at her though. There was something odd about this case.

Back in the Athena cabin, she pulled up the local news for Houston on her laptop. The main story was of a freak wave on the coast – the attack on Tyche. But further down, there was a story about a large, burly man rampaging in a bar before being pulled out into an alley by someone no one saw and disappearing leaving signs of a struggle. The description was how Annabeth imagined mortals would see a minotaur through the Mist.

These two events happened not an hour apart, and Annabeth could not help but wonder if it was the same thing that was involved in both. But she had never heard of monsters attacking each other.

There was only one logical conclusion here, and as Annabeth investigated previous attacks, it became clearer and clearer, but she did not want to think about it.

The attacks on both minor deities and monsters, seemingly indiscriminately. The fact that it never pursued or even attacked demigods. The celestial bronze weapon.

Annabeth closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair and wondered if maybe she was reading too much into it.

The first week of camp was a flurry of activity. Campers arrived, old and new. Annabeth helped to show them around and did not have a lot of time for her own research.

Thalia arrived at the end of the first week. While Annabeth had decided to hold off on college for a year, Thalia had gone last year.

She hugged Annabeth tightly. When she pulled back, she smiled. “How have you been?”

Annabeth’s relationship with Thalia was a bit odd. Although they were now kind of the same age, they had not always been. When they met, Thalia was five years older than Annabeth, but now, due to some magical shenanigans involving a pine tree and the Golden Fleece, they were basically the same age. Nonetheless, Thalia still felt the need to protect her.

“I’m alright,” Annabeth said. “Keeping busy.”

Thalia nodded. “Me too.”

“I actually need your perspective on something. A… research project I’ve been working on.”

Thalia rolled her eyes, smiling, “Of course you would do a research project for fun. I’m forced to do that shit for classes.”

“Don’t swear around the younger campers,” Annabeth said absentmindedly as they headed to the Athena cabin.

In the cabin, campers were unpacking. They all nodded hello as she and Thalia entered. A few stole glances at Thalia in particular. In addition to having once been a tree, she was one of the only two children of the Big Three gods – Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades.

She and Annabeth had also been close to Luke Castellan. Before.

As they approached Annabeth’s bunk, Thalia spotted her bulletin board with a map of the US with the pins of the attacks. Thread connected them in chronological order and cut-out headlines pinned alongside them.

“Wow,” Thalia said. “and I thought you didn’t like conspiracy theories.”

Annabeth frowned. “It’s the attacks,” she lowered her voice so that the other campers could not hear. “They’ve been happening all year, more frequently lately.”

“I’m sure Chiron’s got a handle on it,” Thalia said. “Why do you need me?”

“Chiron thinks it’s a monster and is going to send out a quest to kill it.”

“But you’re not so sure.”

“Exactly.” Annabeth pointed to one of the pins and the headlines pinned near it “April fourth, attack on a group of satyrs in Sacramento. Two days later, an empousa was killed in Concord, which is on the way to San Francisco, where to next attack happened.”

“And monsters don’t generally kill each other. They’re attracted to demigods.” Thalia sighed. “Annabeth, if Chiron thought it was a demigod, don’t you think he’d be handling the situation differently?”

“I didn’t tell him what I thought, because he wouldn’t believe me.”

Thalia studied to board again. “If it was a demigod – and I’m not saying I think it is – why would they be attacking minor gods and satyrs?”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows meaningfully and Thalia sighed again.

“Annabeth, this is why I thought you should go to college too, and not stay cooped up at camp. You need to move on, not try to find a second chance at saving Luke.”

They had not said the name in months, but Annabeth never went a day without thinking about him. “It’s not that –”

“Yes, it is,” Thalia said. “We couldn’t save him and now you think you see someone like him, someone you can try to save.” She put her hands on Annabeth’s shoulders. “We need to let him go.” Annabeth could see the pain in Thalia’s eyes. Luke had meant as much to Thalia as he had to her.

“Chiron’s right,” Thalia said. “It’s just a monster.” She smiled again. “I’ll see you at the campfire.”

When Thalia left the cabin, Annabeth noticed that a lot of her siblings were glancing at her cautiously. She quickly straightened her shoulders and took a breath. She was the head counsellor of the Athena cabin and basically Chiron’s assistant, she had to at least look like she was keeping it together.

She looked back at the board. One thing she hated was feelings clouding judgement. It made plans and conclusions unsound and unreliable. She always tried to approach problems with an unbiased eye. Hadn’t she done that here?

She had not suspected the attack was a demigod until she had looked into it. After that, every new piece of information seemed to fit into place. Nothing else made sense.

Because she had tried other explanations. Whatever Thalia thought, the last thing Annabeth wanted was a demigod attacking gods. She did not want to have t deal with that, much less try to save whoever it was.

If there was one thing Annabeth was confident in, it was her ability to research and come to logical conclusions. She knew she was right.

She just had to convince someone of it.

As the sun started to set, Annabeth made her way across the strawberry fields. At the far end, nestled between some trees, was a small cottage.

She knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” a voice called from inside.

“Grover, it’s me, Annabeth!”

Annabeth heard the various locks click open before the door opened. Grover looked tired, as he always did these days. “Hey, Annabeth.”

She smiled as she stepped inside. “How’ve you been, Grover?”

“I’ve been alright,” he said. “It’s nice to hear all the campers around again. It gets so quiet during the school year.”

The cabin was small, just one room, with a bed in one corner and a couple of lazy chairs in the other. A cabinet of cans stood at the far wall.

Annabeth sank into a chair. “I saw Thalia earlier. Has she been by yet?”

Grover nodded. “Briefly.”

“I’m sure we can all catch up at the campfire tonight,” Annabeth said hopefully.

“Oh, I don’t – I wasn’t planning on going,” Grover said.

Even though she wanted to, Annabeth knew better than to pressure him. “Grover, I need your expertise on something.”

“My expertise?” Grover asked incredulously.

“Yes, as a Searcher.��

“And a great Searcher I was,” Grover muttered.

“Come on, what do we keep saying about the negative self-talk.” Annabeth sighed. “I think I may have found a demigod, but I’m not sure. You have the instincts for this.”

Grover sighed. “Okay, how can I help?”

Annabeth pulled out her laptop and showed him the digitalized version of the bulletin board. It would be more efficient to have it digitalized and not physically, but Annabeth liked to think with her hands.

“These are the monster attacks,” Grover said cautiously.

“Yeah, but not just on gods and nature spirits. I found attacks on monsters that fit into the timeline.”

As Grover surveyed the connecting headlines, Annabeth saw the realization cross his face. He immediately stepped back. “No.”

“What?”

“I am not getting involved in this.”

“Come on, Grover, I just need your help to convince Chiron, so he doesn’t send a quest to kill the person doing this.”

“Annabeth,” Grover said. “This is a demigod attacking minor gods. If the gods got wind of this…? It’s the last thing we need; repairing our reputation is hard enough as it is without there being a demigod fighting gods.” His voice rose to a bleat at the end.

Annabeth put a hand on Grover’s arm. “I know this brings up a lot for you, it does for me too, but maybe we can help this person – it’s just one person.”

“Luke was just one person too, and he led hundreds of demigods against Olympus.”

They were both quiet for a good moment. Annabeth closed her laptop and stood up slowly. “I’ll see you later, then,” she said, smiling softly.

“Yeah,” Grover said, grabbing a can and nibbling it nervously. “Later.”

As Annabeth closed the door behind her, she sighed. She had known that Grover would not be happy to hear it, but at least he did believe her. Maybe with more time, he would back her up to Chiron.

But she didn´t have time. She suspected that Chiron would call for volunteers at the campfire tonight.

Annabeth made her way down to the campfire early that evening, hoping to talk to Chiron before too many campers got there.

Chiron stood talking to a few satyrs who had recently brought in new campers / probably asking if their changes seemed particularly promising. He saw her coming down the earthen steps that doubled as seats around the fire pit and quickly finished his conversation.

“Annabeth,” he said. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the attacks.”

“Don’t worry, I ‘m sending out a quest, they’ll be on their way by morning.”

“But that’s exactly what I’m worried about.” Annabeth took a breath. “I don’t think it’s a monster. I think it’s a demigod.”

“What?”

“I did research – in my free time – that I can show you.” She could see that Chiron was wholly unconvinced. “Grover thinks so too.”

“Grover is hardly a reliable source.” There was an exasperated edge to his voice.

Annabeth huffed. “Grover was one of our best Searchers.”

“Exactly: was. He has not left the camp in over a year and a half! I care about Grover, but I couldn’t be surprised if his instincts have dulled a bit.”

“Come on, Chiron. Surely you see there’s something weird going on.” Annabeth looked at him imploringly, but he did not budge.

“I’m sending out a quest. That’s final.” Chiron turned and made his way to his regular spot on the far end of the fire pit.

Annabeth sighed. This was really not going how she had planned. She had hoped that this summer would be the one everything would go back to normal. The camp had been her home since she was seven and she hated how it had changed.

There were still traces of the battle that had taken place two years ago. Burn marks on buildings that Annabeth had been working to slowly get fixed. New scars on basically every camper. And so many empty bunks. The missing kids were not all reflected on the Wall either.

The Wall of Valor was in the Big House and was engraved with all the names of the demigods who died in battle. But only those fighting for the gods – rebels did not count, so they were left off and did not receive pyre burnings.

Annabeth had tried to argue for their names being included, of course, but had not been successful. She had argued unsuccessfully for a lot of things in the aftermath.

She remembered standing in the throne room of Olympus, the gods and goddesses towering above her. Trying to stand tall, she spoke as loudly and confidently as she could muster. “We request that the gods and goddesses claim their children within a reasonable time – at thirteen or fourteen, for example. Many of the rebels –”

“Traitors,” Hera spat.

“Traitors,” Annabeth amended quickly. “Many of the traitors were unclaimed and felt forgotten and neglected. Claiming them could prevent this from happening again.”

“So, you’re blaming us for this?” Zeus asked.

“No, of course not, Lord Zeus,” Annabeth said. “I’m just saying, there were contributing factors that could be eliminated to lessen the chance of this happening again.”

“This is absurd,” Hera said. “Your camp rises up against us and now you are making demands?”

“Not our whole camp,” Annabeth said, trying to keep her voice calm. “We fought against them – for you.”

“You were a close friend of this Luke fellow, weren’t you?” Demeter asked.

Annabeth turned to her. “Yes, we were close.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

She blinked. “I – I didn’t know until it was too late.”

Annabeth pulled herself out of the memory and sat down shakily. It had been a lie. She had known – at least that something was going on.

Other campers had started to filter in, and Annabeth quickly turned Thalia and they sat together. She did not pay much attention as the Hephaestus kids started the fire and the Apollo kids started up the sing-along.

Food was served and Annabeth ate silently, staring into the fire. She could see no way to convince Chiron or anyone of authority. And she could not go to any god with her theory, they would strike the rogue half-blood dead first and ask questions later. Annabeth wanted to help them.

Maybe Thalia was right. Maybe this was just a second chance for her. But that did not mean that it was not true. Whatever her motivations were, she wanted to help.

An old plan from years ago began to reform in her mind. Back before she went on her quest two years ago, she had been very impatient to leave camp. At one point, she had gotten the idea in her head that Chiron would never let her go and that she would have to do it herself. The main tenets of that plan could still work.

Annabeth looked around. If she left tonight, she would have a head start. And besides, she knew about this person’s movements and habits. For one thing, they tended to travel up to New York every couple of months and were due for another visit soon.

Across the fire pit, Chiron rose. “Good evening everyone. I trust you have all had a good week back. A special welcome to all the newcomers. We hope you come to see this place as a home away from home, as many here do.” He smiled warmly. “Now, as I am sure many of you have heard, there have been a large number of monster attacks all over the country over the past year. We believe they are all the work of one creature. These attacks have escalated in recent months and therefore, I am sending out a quest.”

Whispers erupted among the campers and the enchanted flames jumped green and yellow, reflecting their excitement. There had not been any quests last year.

“We do not know what kind of creature this is, so this quest is not for the faint of heart. However, I believe there is a candidate for the job.” Chiron turned to a group of Aphrodite kids. “Olivia Marcelin, daughter of Aphrodite.” He inclined his head slightly to her. “Will you undertake this labour?”

Olivia, petite but muscular, had arrived at camp just before the rebellion. She was thrust into battle situations at fifteen and handled herself well. She was a good fighter, skilled in multiple weapons, and benefitted from being underestimated. Annabeth would have to be smart if she was going to beat her.

Olivia, although first taken off her guard, quickly straightened and smiled. “I would be honoured.”

“And who will you choose as your companions?” Chiron asked.

She looked around. “Adam Flavius.” Her brother, another son of Aphrodite. Unassuming, but had wickedly good aim with throwing knives. “and Sabine Stentz.” No surprise there. Sabine, daughter of Demeter, was Olivia’s girlfriend. Like all children of Demeter, she had power over plants, but she specialized in the art of offensive plants. Annabeth had seen her in action and would hate to have to tangle with her.

“Very well,” Chiron said. “Tonight you will go to the Oracle and prepare, for you leave at first light tomorrow morning.”

“But first,” said Michal – a child of Apollo. “More sing-along.”

As they strummed the opening chords of ‘She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain,’ Annabeth turned to Thalia. “I think I’m gonna turn in for the night,” she said quietly.

Thalia looked at her with a little suspicion but nodded. “Sleep well.”

Annabeth slipped away quietly. In her cabin, she quickly packed the essentials in her backpack: ambrosia, nectar, change of clothes, a few drachmae, and everything else needed for a last-minute quest. Before she hurried out, she stuffed a pillow and extra blanket under her sheets, so it looked like she was asleep. The longer head start she could get before people noticed she was missing, the better.

Even though it had been a solo plan, Annabeth found herself knocking on Grover’s door.

“What is it?” he asked when he opened the door, looking like he had been sleeping. Then he saw her backpack and the sword that joined her dagger that was normally on her hip. “Whatever you’re doing, I do not want to be involved.”

“Grover, I need your help.”

“I am not going on your redemption quest, especially not if it’s a non-sanctioned one.”

“I have a better chance if you come along, you know that. You can track demigods.”

“I also know that I haven’t left camp since… you know, and I’m out of practice.”

“If we don’t do this, there’s a pretty good chance the demigod will be killed.”

“So what? Maybe it’s better that way.”

“Better that way? Are you hearing yourself?” Annabeth tried not to lose her cool. “This is a demigod who needs our help. Finding and protecting demigods is supposed to be your job, as a Searcher.”

Grover just shook his head.

“Look, I know that you feel like you failed Luke, like what happened was your fault, but that was on all of us, okay? But maybe we can make it right, by helping this person.” She squared her shoulders. “But whether you decide to come or not, I’m going.”

Grover sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Annabeth sighed a breath of relief. While she had been ready to go along, she hadn’t like the idea. She hadn’t had to survive along since before she met Luke and Thalia after running away from home.

“I thought you said this wasn’t to make up for what happened to Luke,” said a voice behind her.

Annabeth jumped and spun around to see Thalia standing behind her.

“Thalia, I – we –”

“I can’t let you two dumbasses go along, and you seem pretty hell-bent.” She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fuck it – we’re all going on this unsanctioned quest – which I still don’t entirely approve of.”

#percabeth #pjo #pjo fanfic #fanfic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #【ｒｏｇｕｅ　ｄｅｍｉｇｏｄ】#ao3 #ff.net #wattpad #wattpadlife #quotev #amwriting #writing #my writing

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diva-1-online · 4 years ago

Text

Will I be making a BNHA fanfic? Maybe... uh tell me if I should continue this (it’ll probably be on my AO3 account - TheRealAuthorDiva)

Running past the trees, (y/n) reached her hands in front of her and squinted her eyes, making a small purple portal in front of her. She lunged towards it until she felt the cold air of it. Holding her breath, she waited until she felt the air again. She was a couple yards away from her first portal.

“That’s still not very far.”

“Yea yea, I know.” She snapped at the misty man.

“You’ve improved your time but not distance. He won’t be very pleased.”

“Is he ever,” (y/n) shivered, remembering her past encounters. Nothing seemed good enough. Well... except for her cooking.

“Focus really hard on that far tree.”

(Y/n) squinted and held out her hands, jumping in and falling out of the portal only a few yards away. He sighed and helped her back up, telling her what she did wrong. She held her head low, walking back into the hide out.

“Well, has she improved at all?” That stupid raspy voice called out to them, making her palms sweat slightly.

“Her speed has improved by a few seconds but her warps are the same.”

“Mm. Care to explain why, (Y/n)?”

“I haven’t had proper training. Just telling me to focus doesn’t help that much, surprisingly,” she rolled her eyes to him, already regretting her words.

“So instead of improvement you brought attitude. That’s nice to know,” he stood up and began to walk towards her, that stupid hand covering his face. She wanted to slap it away.

“That’s enough Tomura. Leave her alone,” he stood up between the two of them while Tomura scoffed and walked away, muttering about how stupid that was.

(Y/n) let out a sigh of relief when he was out of sight. He turned towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, scolding her for her attitude.

“I know I just... did I lie? Our quirks are somewhat different so I’m not sure how he expects me to a master-“

“He’s not expecting that, he’s expecting decency. And you just...” realizing what he said, he shifted his gaze back to the bar. (Y/n) simply rolled her eyes and went to her room, choking on slight tears.

“Hey, Kurogiri, get over here.” Spinner called for him near the bar. “I think I have an idea.”

Slumping down in her bed, (Y/n) made small portals with her hands. Someone was going to have to take over the league when the rest were gone. It seemed she was a prime candidate. Well, only if she gets good at her quirk that is.

She leaned over and hugged her pillow tightly, looking to the small window. A small bird flew to the sill and looked in. It’s almost like the bird was free yet she was caged, ironic. She just laid in her bed like usual before getting called to the bar again.

“What do you need?”

“Kiroguri (Y/n), pack you’re bags. You have a mission.” So she did just that and arrived back shortly after, now growing impatient.

“So what’s the mission?”

“UA has many promising heroes. Training quirks to be the best around. So why don’t you go there and help us ruin them.” Tomura gave a creepy smile to her as she simply nodded.

“Sure but won’t they recognize the last name?”

“That’s why you will now be known as (l/n) instead. Now, don’t fail us.” Tomura gave her a piece of paper with simple enough instructions.

“I would never fail you,” she rolled her eyes and said her goodbyes, Kiroguri walking away with her until it was just her.

“Good luck...” he told her, hand on her shoulder. She turned around and smiled.

“Thanks dad.”

—

She waited impatiently at a new apartment alone for her letter. Rejection of acceptance would lead two very different routes. Rejection? Rejected from the league. It wasn’t until a week later she heard the news.

General studies.

“Well, better than rejection,” she thought, rolling her eyes. She was going into UA a couple weeks late so maybe they didn’t have room in any hero classes. She quickly realized her place was far below the rest of them. Late start and little knowledge of heroes, it’s honestly a miracle she got in at all.

She sat next to a purple haired boy during class and tried to find out any information about the school. She pestered him until finally, he told her to shut up. She rolled her eyes and tried to make a snarky come back but couldn’t make any sounds. He saw her struggling and simply laughed.

“I hope I can move up into 1-B,” she heard some people talking. The boy rolled his eyes and commented, “if you were good enough you would’ve made it in.”

“Oh. So I could’ve made it,” she thought, sitting back in her chair, annoyingly rocking it back and forth.

She really couldn’t find any new information about the school during class. She just tried to analyze her new classmates. It wasn’t until the end of class did she realize that until she advanced up, she wouldn’t learn anything. After school she roamed the hallways, looking for any teacher until she tripped.

“Ugh, what the-“ she looked down and saw a yellow sleeping bag with a man inside it.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbled out.

“Maybe don’t sleep on the floor,” she rolled her eyes and kept walking until she heard a familiar voice.

“Aizawa, I’m ready for training.”

Training. That’s just what she needed!

“Hey, can I train?” She quickly spun around, being face to face with her new classmate.

“Hm. First you’re rude and now you want help?” Aizawa got up off the floor and stared her down.

“Is it rude to point out the obvious? I don’t expect teachers to just sleep in the hallways. Besides, isn’t this your job?” He huffed at her and nodded.

“Any slip-ups and you’re done.” He told her as the purple boy rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be a brat Shinsou. Now anyways, never be late to my training. If you’re late you run. Don’t give me an attitude. You’ll also have to run for that. Or... in your case you’ll just be out.” He told her. She nodded along. Seemed easy enough, right? Soon enough she’ll know all they need to know to ruin this place.

#art #oc #bnha #mha #fanfic #x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Shinsou #Shinsou Hitoshi #Hitoshi #Aizawa #Kurogiri #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic

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kingofbr00klyn · 4 years ago

Note

Newsies prompts! Yeah! Um... 1. Jack being a big brother to Race. 2. Crutchie and Racetrack getting into some trouble together. 3. Jack and Spot caring for some of the littles. Pick one or write them all idc. Can’t wait to read!

Hi this took me like 4 days to write, I thought it was longer than that but okay, I have loads of other stuff in the works, this is just the first one I finished. Sorry for the wait. So this is for the prompt we’re Crutchie and Race get into trouble.

I tried to mix both 1992sies and livesies in this, but I don’t think it really comes across. Also, this story is ever so slightly exaggerated, but oh well. But it’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so this probably isn’t the best.

This will also be found on my AO3 account.

"Remind me ta never listen ta you again."

"How was I'se suppost ta know this would 'appen?"

"Well, I dunno. But now I’m in trouble because a’ summing I didn’t even do."

“Oh c’mon! Nuthin’ bad happened. I came out worse than you did. You get to go home scot-free.”

“But still. This is all your fault an’ I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.”

"Wow, Crutch, whatta' way to throw a pal under da bus."

"You'se deserve it."

Race rolled his eyes and sulked further down into his chair, only to regret it when the hard plastic rubbed uncomfortably into his back. He glanced at his companion, who looked just about as shit as he felt. Crutchie kept nervously running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the helm of his shirt, he looked like someone who had just been caught doing something illegal. Oh wait, that's because he had. Let's take a step back, shall we?

2 hours earlier.

Crutchie stood outside his door step, awaiting Race's arrival. The two had decided to spend the evening together, since none of their other friends were available. Race had said he would pick him up at 6. After Crutchie's watch ticked 6:15, Race's old TP Cruiser pulled up. He wore a bright, cheeky grin as he leaned over to open the passenger side door. "Get in loser, we're going shopping!" Crutchie gleefully obliged, grabbing his crutch and sliding into the front seat.

"Are you ready for the funnest night of yer life?" Race asked, a unlit cigar hanging loosely from his mouth.

Crutchie laughed. "We'se just goin' ta the diner on 4th, ain't we?"

"Nope," Race grabbed something from the cupholder beside him and handed it to Crutchie. "Just got this from my guy. Thought we'd treat ourselves tonight." It was a fake ID.

Antonio Higgings

11/12l1997

XXX XXXX XXX

XX/XX/XX

"Yer guy?" Crutchie snorted, handing the card back. "You'se mean Albert."

"Maybe I do. Anyway, I'm low on cigs and shit, so I thought we'se stop by a corner shop and see how well this baby works." Starting the engine, Race pulled out of Crutchie's drive and set off for the nearest place that would give them what they wanted.

"What if we'se get caught? I don't wanna be done just because you'se got a nicotine addiction." Crutchie offered, messing with the diles for the radio.

"Then I punch Albert in the face," Race resorted. That drew a snicker from the blonde. "But seriously, don't worry 'bout it. Everthin's gonna be a-okay!"

Spolier altert; it wasn't.

After 10 or so minutes of driving, Race pulled to a stop and poorly parked the car. "Eh, good enough." He got out, with Crutchie tailing right behind him.

"You don't gotta come in. Ya know, cuz yer so scared of gettin' caught." The taller boy mocked.

Crutchie retaliated by hitting Race in the leg with his crutch. "I'm comin' wit' cha so you don't get punched in the face." Race forged offence, but waved off the comment.

The shop was small, just your regular off-licence, cheap booze with an even cheaper taste, the perfect thing to fuel Race's needs. A little bell rang as they opened the door, there weren't many people inside the shop, Crutchie noted the few middle aged men who were likely in there for similar reasons as themselves. Race swaggered to the front counter, an air of confidence around him. The shop clerk, a young man with a stoic expression, rolled his eyes at the tall blonde.

"What can I get you?" The clerk's tone was as cheerful as expected.

Race grinned cockily. "A smile would be a start, sweetheart," The shop clerk didn't respond, but continued to glare the boy down. "Okay then… A box o' ya finest Corona's and summa that scotch ya got up there." Race slapped $50 on the counter, along with his fake ID.

The clerk picked the card up, eying it suspiciously. Crutchie had a feeling this wouldn’t end well. “Yah think you’re funny, kid? Think I don’t know what a fake ID looks like?” The clerk said. “I’m gonna have to call the cops, you know.”

Race’s expression floored. Disbelief and fear quickly made itself at home. Crutchie felt a similar dread rise up in his stomach, he looked to Race for an inkling of what to do next, but the tall boy just continued to stare dumbly. Until he finally said, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill Albert.”

As it turns out, the shop had an undercover officer outside the shop to deal with instances like this. The clerk called him in, and he escorted Crutchie and Race to the local station. Luckily, they had pretty much just been given a slap on the wrist and a call home. Except, since this wasn’t Race’s first offence, so he had also been slapped with a $50 fine.

The boys anxiously awaited the arrival of the parents. Race had already had a million and one messages from his brother, Jack. The sonva’ was having a field day with this. Text after text about how much trouble Race would be in, how he was grounded and how much shit Jack’s going to give him for this. Race ignored his brother, instead opting for spamming Albert with a variety of angry messages in all caps.

GottaGoFast - RedHeadHoe

19:05

GottaGoFast: ALBERT FUCKING DASILVA

GottaGoFast: U FUCKING BITCH

GottaGoFast: IM SO GOING TO KILL U

RedHeadHoe: ???

GottaGoFast: im at the police station

RadHeadHoe: oh what did u do now???

RedHeadHoe: OH

RedHeadHoe: YOU GOT CAUGHT

RedHeadHoe: HA

GottaGoFast: YEAH AND ITS ALL UR FAULT

RedHeadHoe: how is it my fault???

GottaGoFast: BECAUSE UR THE 1 WHO GAVE ME THE ID

RedHeadHoe: dude u didnt have to use it

RedHeadHoe: also i dont make them so it aint my fault

RedHeadHoe: blame my guy

GottaGoFast: ur guy?????

RedHeadHoe: ye

RedHeadHoe: skittery

GottaGoFast: ok but ur still dead

RedHeadHoe: cool

GottaGoFast: dentys gonna be here soon so gotta go

RedHeadHoe: good luck my dude

GottaGoFast: fuck u

RedHeadHoe: :)

Race slipped his phone into his pocket, just in time to see some familiar faces walk though the station door. Bryan Denton, Race’s foster father, walked up to the receptionist desk, before being pointed towards where the boys were sitting. Race looked at Crutchie, before straightening his back and putting on his most charming smile. "Heya Denty!" Race beamed, hoping to the gods above that this would go in his favour. Bryan didn't look particularly mad, but Denton never really got mad. It was like the man was incapable of it, it was great, and Race had done a lot of things that would cause any parent to flip their shit.

"Race," Bryan started, calm and collected as always."What were you thinking?" Okay, maybe it wasn't as great as Race thought, Denton's tranquill state was quite unsettling at the moment, Race had no idea what he was thinking.

"We'se just wanted to have a bit a' fun, ya know, teenage stuff," The blonde rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Did they'se tell ya 'bout da fine?"

"Yeah, they told me over the phone," Denton said. "I'll pay it and then we'll go home. Jack's waiting for us in the car.”

Race rolled his eyes. "Oh yay."

Crutchie didn't really pay much attention to the scene in front of him, he was too caught up in his own head. Fear and worry filled his thoughts, his grandmother wasn't the most forgiving then it came to things like this. Crutchie remembered once when he was 7 and snuck out of his room in the middle of the night to get one of the freshly baked cookies his grandmother had made that day, the elderly woman had found out about his midnight snack and boy was there hell to pay. She wasn't particularly mean or nasty, she could just be strict at times.

Times like these, Crutchie thought as he saw his grandmother barrel towards him with an expression that would make the toughest of men wet themselves. "Charles Andrew Morris! You are in so much trouble, young man!" Oh no, she used his full name. He really was a goner.

"Race, I don't think I'm comin' outta this alive…” Crutchie said.

Race snorted. "Don't worry, my dude, I got this." Crutchie didn't have time to ask what 'this' was, as Race stepped in front of him and greeted his grandmother.

"Mrs Morris, so good ta see ya 'gain," Race started. That diverted the woman from her path of destruction, as she instead gave the blonde a striking glare. The Italian tried not to shrink under her gaze, opting to continue with his sentence. "So um, ya see, Ma'am. It wasn't actually Crutchie's fault, it was mine. So, err, don't punish him for my mistake."

What?

Crutchie was in complete disbelief. And he wasn't the only one, Bryan shared a similar expression. While Race was a good friend, he was also a bit of an asshole, so him taking all the blame for this (even though it was his fault), was a surprise.

Crutchie’s grandmother eyed the boy suspiciously, before she turned on her heels and walked away. “Come on, Charlie, it’s time to go home.”

Crutchie was slightly dumbfounded, but didn’t question as he hugged Race. “Thanks man.”

Race winked and smiled. “No problem, Crutch. Text me if you ain’t dead!”

“Will do!”

RiceCrutchies - Racer

21:35

RiceCrutchies: Guess who aint dead :)))

Racer: yayyyy

Racer: so what happened

RiceCrutchies: Gran wasn’t very happy but she wasnt too mad

RiceCrutchies: Im grounded for 2 weeks tho

Racer: oh well at least we had 1 last night of fun before that

RiceCrutchies: Yea so how’d it go with Denton???

Racer: not too bad

Racer: im also grounded but they took my cigs at the police station so i need to get more from Albert

RiceCrutchies: You think you would have learnt your lesson but ok

Racer: 👌

Racer: i gotta go crutch see you in school???

RiceCrutchies: Yeah, see you and try not to do anything illegal between then

Racer: no promises

RiceCrutchies: 🤦‍

12 notes · View notes

idkxwriting · 5 years ago

Text

Treacherous - Chapter Twelve

Author: idkhaylijah

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: none...you guys know what you’re in for if you’ve made it this far ;)

A/N: Thank you guys for your patience. It’s been a rough few months year tbh. I appreciate all the comments and messages, it keeps me going. Special shout out to @thatfanficstuff for telling me the best way through a block is to just keep writing, @dendrite-lover for reading ahead of time and the Sherlock account on ao3 that spammed me with comments and totally encouraged me to continue with her kind words! We’re coming to the end guys!

It was strange, being back home. She had left Mystic Falls behind her, never looking back, and here it was, staring her in the face. She gave a soft smile at the creak on the third step, leading up to the familiar porch. Her porch.

She glanced over her shoulder, watching as Elijah’s car disappeared down the road. He had offered to come inside, insisted, even, but she was adamant about needing to be alone. As persistent as he had been, she was twice as stubborn. He reluctantly agreed, under the condition that she’d be at the Salvatore Boarding House within the hour.

Having him in her home, their home, would be more than she could handle.

Even so, as she moved quietly into the house, she saw that his ghost was everywhere.

She sighed, and dropped her duffle bag on the couch as she made her way into the kitchen. It was strange, she thought, the way the familiar scent of home filled her senses as if the house hadn’t sat a vacant shell for years.

Stefan, she reasoned. She felt a sadness settle into her at the thought of her best friend caring for her home long after she had stopped coming back, in the hopes that one day she may return after all.

“Beautiful home,” a voice startled her.

She turned, her eyes narrowed and a feeling crawling up her spine that always accompanied the sudden unwelcome appearance of the King of Hell. “Crowley. What are you doing here?” She asked through gritted teeth.

“I’ve got to admit, I never pictured you with the white picket fence, but it suits you,” he ran his hand along the kitchen island, glancing around the room. He made his way to the fridge, plucking at photos with feigned curiosity. “Ahh, the vampire boyfriend,” he waggled his eyebrows at her, pulling the photostrip from its magnet. “Personally, I’m Team Squirrel.”

“What do you want?” She snapped, ripping the photos from his hand and placing them back.

“Oh come now, Birdy, can’t I visit a friend?”

She sighed at his nickname for her. “We’re not friends. Even if we were, there’s always strings with you…”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re always so quick to point that out, but it pays to have friends in high places, Birdy.”

“More like low places,” she retorted.

He smiled devilishly at her, turning his attention back to the pictures on the fridge. “I understand you need a certain blade. One I’d be happy to procure for you.”

“What do you know about the blade?” She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

He opened the fridge, rifling through ingredients with disappointment. “I know you need it to kill Empusa.”

“And you just happen to have it?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and moved from the fridge to the cabinets, opening and closing doors until he found what he was looking for. He picked up bottle after bottle, reading the labels with vague disinterest. “I’ve always preferred Glencraig myself,” he mumbled, placing a bottle of bourbon she recalled swiping from Damon’s personal stash back down.

“Why would you offer me the knife?” She asked skeptically. “What’s in it for you?”

He shrugged, straightening out to look at her. “You need the knife, I need Empusa dead, it’s that simple.” When she didn’t reply, he sighed. “Empusa is bad news for everyone, Hell included.”

“Hell or you?”

“The situation in Hell is...delicate. I don’t need Empusa roaming free, building an army…”

“Challenging your seat on the throne?”

“Regardless of my own selfish reasons, it doesn’t change your position, love. You need the knife.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed as she studied the demon before her. She didn’t trust him, she never had, but she needed him. Still, she knew him and even with selfish motives, it wouldn’t come without a price. “What’s the trade?”

He poured himself a glass of bourbon, scoffing at the label internally, but it would do. “I get you the blade, and you do your part.”

She nodded, the fear gripping her chest again. She knew what she needed to do, but knowing and doing were two different things. “You know, then…that I have to die in order to release the soul stone?”

“I know,” he nodded grimly, and she wondered (not for the first time) if the demon was capable of genuine emotion. “So do we have a deal?”

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “We have a deal,” she whispered.

Crowley smirked. “Well then,” he pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket, holding the handle out towards her. She gripped it, but he held onto it. “You understand how a certain Moose and Squirrel may make this more difficult?”

“I know what I have to do, Crowley. Give me the blade, and I’ll get it done. Sam and Dean don’t have to know the details, only that I’m the one that needs to use it,” she said, trying to pull the blade from him once more.

He continued to keep a sturdy grip, tugging her towards him. “And what of your vampire boyfriend?”

“Elijah won’t be a problem.”

“Just do your part, Birdy.” He said and released the blade.

She stared down at the seemingly ordinary knife in her hand. As the metal warmed in her palm she felt the magic that rested within the blade - within her. She glanced up to find Crowley had disappeared once more, leaving her to contemplate her life.

And death.

She knew what she had to do - that the only way to stop Empusa and save her friends was to sacrifice her own life. And she would do it, gladly, but --

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice interrupted her, staving off the rising panic in her chest.

She placed the knife in the back of her pants, tucking it away carefully before rubbing at her eyes. “Hey,” she smiled sadly.

“What are you doing here?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh come on, you didn’t expect me to sit this one out, did you?”

Sam chuckled softly at that. “No, I guess not…”

“Alright, Sammy, Cas is headed back with Freya. They want us to head over to the Salvatore’s in…..” Dean stopped, caught off guard by the woman before him. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N’s eyes locked with Dean’s, and she wondered what kind of life they may have had if she didn’t have to die. If he hadn’t been a hunter, and she hadn’t loved a vampire. If maybe they had just been normal.

Sam looked between the two, shifting uncomfortably. “Umm, I’m just going to...be somewhere else…” he said awkwardly before making his way past Dean and back out the front door.

The door shut, the noise bringing them both back to the present. Dean cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” He asked again gruffly.

She breathed a laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Oh you know, just the usual end of the world stuff…”

His green eyes snapped to hers, and she knew he was angry. “I thought Sam told you to stay away from Mystic Falls until we had a plan.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dean, I’ll be fine. In fact, a few days ago you had no objection to me coming with you. Besides, I couldn’t leave you two and the Salvatores to come up with a decent plan all by yourselves. You need me,” she teased.

Dean moved toward her until she was just out of reach, his eyes locked on hers. He inhaled deeply - as if he hadn’t been able to breathe since he left her in that motel room, and suddenly he was coming up for air. When he released it, he broke eye contact, fixing his stare on the floor. “Yea, I do,” his voice was heavy, but his breath was shaky and he cleared his throat. “We need you,” he corrected, meeting her gaze once more, knowing she saw right through him. She always had.

“Dean....” she breathed. He didn’t need her. He couldn’t need her, because she had to leave him. She had to leave all of them. The realization of what she had to do hit her suddenly. She wasn’t afraid of death, she knew it would come for her eventually and probably sooner than most. But the thought of leaving everyone behind, of losing them all, was crushing. It stole the air from her lungs and the weight of it all was suddenly too much.

He stepped into her, his hand on her cheek grounding her.

“Damon called. They’re waiting on us,” Sam interrupted from the front door.

Dean dropped his hand suddenly, putting some distance between them, and Y/N nodded, shoving the thought of leaving Dean, leaving Elijah and Sam...Cas...everyone. She took a breath, focusing on the task at hand. “God forbid we make Damon wait,” she sighed, side stepping Dean and following Sam out the front door.

*****

Arriving at the Salvatore Boarding House felt like stepping back in time, into a life she hadn’t known for ages, and Y/N found she had missed it more than she could have imagined.

She was greeted by Damon, first, who had kindly reminded her just how stupid it had been to come back. The raven haired man scowled at her, but she knew he was happy to see her when he wrapped his arms around her anyway, tucking her into his side. “If you disappear like that again, Buffy, I’ll kill you myself,” he whispered into her hair. “Welcome home.”

He stepped aside and gave Sam and Dean a once over, not entirely pleased with their presence, before turning his attention to the figure approaching from the end of the driveway. “How was Bambi today, Stefan?” Damon teased, referring to the feeding trip his brother had just gotten back from.

Stefan ignored him, his eyes locked on Y/N, his face brooding, and she wondered just how angry he was with her. Her cheeks flushed as the guilt crept up once more, knowing her best friend had deserved more than a disappearing act without a trace.

It seemed Elijah wasn’t the only one she had hurt.

She bit her lip, and when he broke out into a soft smile, she grinned, running to him at full speed and launching herself into his arms. He caught her with ease, hugging her tightly.

Dean watched the interaction with curiosity - the annoying, jealous pang that seemed to have taken up residence in his chest growing sharper.

“Don’t worry,” Damon startled him, appearing suddenly by his side. “Stefan’s like a big brother to her.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Dean scoffed.

“I’m just saying. There was never anything more than friendship there,” he watched them for a moment. “Which is weird, because we almost always end up sleeping with the same women. I guess she only wanted to sample one Salvatore brother,” he smirked, slapping Dean on the back roughly.

Dean coughed and glared after the vampire as he walked away, muttering under his breath. He made his way into the house. He couldn’t wait to get back to the bunker and his normal routine, where the only vampires he came across he staked.

*****

Y/N cleared her throat, sinking deeper into the plush sofa. Elijah and Dean both stood in front of her, making her feel like a small child.

Dean’s arms were crossed, and she could see even in the dim room that he was fuming, his hard stare fixed on her.

Elijah, on the other hand, was more controlled. His hands were in his pocket while he glanced around the room with feigned interest. This scared her more than Dean’s open anger. A cool, calm, and collected Elijah was simply waiting for his moment. She had seen it dozens of times, though admittedly not usually directed at her, and it often ended with him tearing out someone’s heart.

She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and focused on the intricate patterns in the persian carpet beneath her feet. They sat in the Great Room, a collection of the Salvatore's history filling the space. Mementos of the multiple lifetimes Stefan and Damon had lived.

Damon sipped from his glass of bourbon, seemingly less concerned than the two men standing before her. “So she hears voices or whatever. Big deal. We use it to our advantage,” Damon shrugged. “Y/N knows Empusa’s move before she makes it. It gives us the upper hand. We draw her out, stab her with the fancy knife the devil gave her, and we’re home by dinner..”

“Crowley is not Lucifer,” Cas corrected. “Crowley’s the King of Hell, a demon.”

Dean shot him an angry glare, effectively shutting him up. “A demon who doesn’t give anything for free. What was the deal, Y/N?”

She shrugged. “Empusa is bad news for all of us, Hell included. Crowley needs her gone.”

Cas watched her for a moment, eyes narrowed, but he kept his mouth shut, and Y/N was grateful.

“There’s always a catch with Crowley,” Sam said quietly.

“Who cares?” Damon shouted, exasperated. “She has the knife, we can end this.”

“Damon,” Stefan warned.

His brother rolled his eyes, pouring himself another drink.

“Damon’s right,” Freya said quietly. “Castiel and I dug up everything we could find on Empusa, and this is the only way.”

“Thank you,” he smiled smugly, giving Freya an appreciative once over.

Sam furrowed his brow. “How are we going to draw Empusa out?”

Stefan sighed, stepping forward. “Empusa wants Y/N. So we give her what she wants…”

Dean shook his head. “Hell no!” He argued. “We can’t just hand her over like that. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t like it either, Dean,” Stefan said. “But it’s our best shot. If she thinks she has a shot at taking Y/N she’ll come, and we will protect her.”

“You’ll have an army of supernatural creatures looking for blood. Y/N’s blood…” Sam added.

“Good thing you're hunters,” Damon remarked. “Make yourselves useful.”

Freya glanced at her brother sympathetically. He remained silent, but she knew him well enough to know just how worried he was. “We can keep her safe, Elijah.”

His body tensed, and Y/N could see the look he shared with his sister, the fear in his eyes. How was he supposed to protect her from something he couldn’t protect himself from?

Before he could speak, Y/N stood. “Stop talking like I’m not here. It’s my call, and this is our best shot to put Empusa down. It’s happening,” she said definitively before storming out, leaving the rest of the group to work out the details.

***** Stefan found her sometime later out back, sitting and watching the stars. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey.” Y/N patted the ground next to her, and he tossed a blanket he had brought from inside onto her shoulders before joining her.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “So...you and Caroline, huh?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “We’re friends…”

She nudged his shoulder playfully. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

He sighed. “Don’t believe everything Damon tells you,” he countered.

“So you don’t care that she’s off somewhere with Klaus right now?”

His shoulders slumped at that and he pulled his knees up, resting his arms on them. “Caroline sees the good in people, and I love that about her.”

She waited for a moment, but he was silent. “But?” She pried.

“But that means she sees the good in Klaus, too, and…”

“She’ll come back to you, Stefan. Trust me.”

He nodded quietly. “So this Dean guy, huh?” He asked after a moment, turning it around on her.

She let out an exasperated sigh and pulled the throw blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I’ve made such a mess out of things.”

And so she told him. All of it. The visions, the nightmares of becoming a ripper, needing to let go of Elijah, holding onto Dean…

“I slept with Elijah,” she finally confessed after some time. “This morning, on the way here…”

Stefan looked at her, his mouth hanging open as if at a loss for words. He had the courtesy to bite back his judgement, which she appreciated, but she knew she deserved it.

“Go ahead,” she sighed. “Tell me how horrible I am.”

He shook his head. “No, Y/N…” she followed his line of sight, turning over her shoulder.

“Dean,” she breathed, slamming her eyes shut. God, she thought. This was not how she wanted him to find out.

Dean cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably for a second before squaring his shoulders. “Cas sent me out to find you, he had a few questions about the knife…”

Stefan stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I should give you guys a minute,” he started.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said, shaking his head. His green eyes locked on Y/N’s, burning into her with fury. “We got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean wait,” she called after him. If he heard her, he didn’t respond, keeping his head forward as he made his way back up to the house. Y/N felt the pain immediately at once again hurting Dean, and she realized as he walked away just how much she needed him.

She turned toward Stefan, tears burning in her eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered pulling her in for a hug. “You just need to talk to him.”

His grip on her tightened, and she began to cry freely, burying her face in his chest. She didn’t know just how much she had missed her best friend until that moment, and the thought of leaving them all behind rushed to the surface. She wouldn’t just lose Dean and Elijah. It was saying goodbye to Stefan, and Sam. Cas, Damon, Freya, Caroline and even Klaus...the list was too long to even wrap her mind around it. She’d lose her friends, her family. The thought was crippling.

She was grateful in that moment for Stefan, for his unwavering strength. She knew he beat himself up constantly for being weak, for wanting blood, but he didn’t give himself enough credit, because he was always her strength.

Not returning his calls was one thing - Stefan was patient, she knew deep down that he was okay because he had a lifetime to find her again.

But dying? She wondered if he’d be strong enough. If she could do that to him.

She pulled air into her lungs, holding onto it for a moment, before exhaling shakily. She knew what she had to do, and she would do it, come hell or high water.

She pulled back from him, wiping at her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

She shook her head. “No, Stefan, I’m sorry. I owed you more than silence, I shouldn’t have disappeared like that.”

He smiled sadly at her, and she knew he was hiding the pain he had felt when she left them without a word. “Y/N, being a vampire - it’s difficult. Everyday is a battle to fight off the craving. We feel everything. Anger becomes rage, when you’re sad you’re in despair. Every single day I fight to not just turn it all off, but I hold on because…”

“Because you can’t be a ripper again,” she whispered.

He nodded, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “I don’t want that life for you. I never did. I would have let you go.”

She teared up again, remembering the calls and texts that had gone unanswered. Remembering staying one step ahead as her friend spent weeks trying to track her down. How she had known he had been hurting, but continued to run.

“Go talk to him,” he whispered, turning her and playfully shoving her towards the house.

She turned, walking backwards so she could face Stefan. “For what it’s worth, I really missed you.”

*****

She found him in one of the spare rooms, thumbing through a stack of vintage vinyls. She stepped into the room hesitantly, unsure of what she could possibly say to fix the hurt she had caused him. She watched him quietly, and for a moment she wondered if it was better this way. If she had to die, maybe he’d fair better if he hated her.

She shook the thought away and stepped further into the room, deliberately making her presence known. “Damon went through a bit of a punk rock phase…” she said, nodding towards the vinyl. “Stefan had more of a classic rock vibe, I think.”

Dean hummed in acknowledgement. He held up a certified gold Bon Jovi album with a look of confusion.

She laughed. “Someday you’ll have to ask Stefan about his party days with Lexi, and his night with Bon Jovi.”

Dean’s eyes crinkled in the corners, a hint of a smile. “Who’s Lexi?” He asked conversationally.

“She was his best friend,” she smiled softly at the memory of the blonde vampire. “You would have liked her.”

“Vampire?” He asked.

She nodded.

Dean placed the vinyl back in the pile, shoving it back in it’s spot and shaking his head. “Then probably not,” he replied stiffly.

“Don’t be like that,” she sighed. “They’re not all bad.”

He scoffed. “Like Elijah? And Damon?”

“Damon?”

There, he picked at the scab until it started to bleed, and now it was all going to rush out. “Yea,” he said, anger rising. “Anybody else you’re fucking in this house that I should add to the list?”

Even as the words left his mouth he regretted them, but as he watched her recoil at them, he felt the guilt wrap around him and the shame that flooded his veins.

So why the hell couldn’t he stop? The anger burned just underneath his skin, begging to tear its way out.

“Stefan?” He asked. “Tell me, is it just vampires? Or are you into all of the weird shit?”

The hurt in Y/N’s face twisted into rage. “First of all, I don’t owe you a single explanation about my past, but just for my own sanity, where the hell did you get the idea that I’d ever in a million years sleep with Damon?”

“Damon told me.”

“Eww! Gross, but besides the point,” she took a deep breath, an attempt at calming herself. “Look, I’m gonna give you that one free pass, because you’re hurt, and you’re obviously pissed off, and I get it…”

“You know what,” he snapped. “You’re right, you don’t owe me a damn thing. Forget it. Whatever this was,” he gestured between them. “It’s over.”

She nodded, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, focusing on the sting of her bite instead of the pain in her chest. “Yeah, you know what, I guess it is,” she snapped.

“Great,” he agreed.

“Perfect!”

When he pushed past her, she didn’t bother turning around to watch him walk away.

*****

Dean stomped down the stairs, eager to get out of the Boarding House.

He knew he had no right to be angry. He had no claim on Y/N, they hadn’t said they were exclusive. Hell, he had slept with more than his share of women, so who was he to judge?

It wasn’t the sex.

It was Elijah, and the way he got under her skin. It was the way they looked at each other, the way that even after all this time she dreamt of him. It was the way she refused to leave his side back at the motel. How in her darkest moments, she called out for him.

Elijah.

She was in love with him. Worst of all, he had known it, and he has kissed her anyway.

So who was he really angry at? Y/N, or himself?

“Dean,” the refined voice stopped him in his tracks. “A word?”

Dean took a deep breath, trying to stave off the outburst at the tip of his tongue, the fist that wanted to swing. He turned to find Elijah, the last person he wanted to see.

He could tell by the Original’s posture there was no room for argument. Elijah was intent on talking whether he was willing to listen or not. Dean nodded, tight lipped and reluctant as he followed the vampire into a room off of the main hall. It was large, like the rest of the rooms in the house, the rich mahogany bringing a deep warmth into the space. A piano sat in the center of the pristine room, but if it was used, it wasn’t often.

Elijah studied Dean for a moment, and the hunter shifted, feeling instead like the prey. He puffed his chest a bit and raised his chin, locking his jaw and letting the vampire know he wasn’t afraid.

Elijah placed a hand in his pocket, relaxing his own stance a bit. “Did Y/N ever tell you the story of how she and I first met?”

Dean scoffed, turning his gaze towards the large windows for a moment. “I don’t think it ever came up,” he shot back.

“I was sent to kill her,” he stated, pulling Dean’s full attention back on him. “My family and the Salvatores were having a bit of a...spat...you could say. Niklaus needed to show Stefan that he was not playing games and Y/N was to be collateral damage in our feud.”

“So what, you saw a pretty face worth sparing?” Dean sighed.

Elijah showed a hint of a smile. “No, actually. Though her beauty was undeniable. She is quite captivating." He paused, lost in the memory of her. "It was her eyes," he continued. "She saw death at her doorstep, I held her life in my hands, one movement and it’d all be over,” he moved, gliding his hands along the piano, no longer able to meet Dean’s gaze. He still held a great deal of guilt and shame over their initial meeting.

“I’ve taken life more times than I can count, ripped it away without question. There’s a moment, before the end, where you can see everything in their eyes, just before the life is drained from them.” He paused, lost in his darkest moments. Faces in his mind that had haunted him for centuries. He cleared his throat, shaking off his demons before continuing. “Most fear it,” he explained. “They cry, or scream, beg for mercy. A few are brave…”

Dean glared at Elijah, and he wondered if it were possible to hate anyone more than he hated the man in front of him.

“Y/N was different,” he explained. “I looked in her eyes, and I didn’t see fear or acceptance. Instead I saw forgiveness...understanding, even.” He turned, facing Dean once more. “I’m aware of what I am, Dean. I’ve been lost in the blood and the chaos so long…” he trailed off. “I know what I am, and Y/N...she’s everything that is good in this world. It’s why I love her.”

Dean knew, because it was why he loved her, too.

“How she ever found it in her to love me in return, I’ll never understand,” he admitted.

“What’s your point?”

Elijah smiled sadly. “All of this to say, Y/N has a capacity for forgiveness unlike anyone I’ve ever known. You’d do well not to abuse it.”

Dean furrowed his brows.

“Our time together over the last few days,” he explained. “It was nothing more than closure for Y/N.”

“It’s none of my business,” Dean said angrily.

Elijah nodded in agreeance. “Perhaps. But I will make it a point to make it my business if you ever hurt her again,” he threatened.

Dean swallowed, nodding. He didn’t need Elijah to tell him he had acted like an ass, but he also couldn’t blame the guy for looking out for her.

If the roles were reversed, he’d do the same. *****

If Damon was surprised to see her, it didn’t show on his face. He stripped off his leather jacket, tossing it on a chair in the corner. “Well, I always knew this day would come…” he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Y/N, who sat on the edge of his bed. “Admit it, you couldn’t resist me anymore.”

She scoffed. “You’re so gross, Damon.”

He shrugged, not bothering to deny it. “You love it,” he winked.

“Did you tell Dean we slept together?”

Damon made a show of struggling to recall the conversation. “I may have suggested it…”

She threw a pillow at him. “Well thanks a lot, he hates me now…”

Damon rolled his eyes. “Please, he’s like a lost puppy trailing after you.”

“Damon! Why did you lie?”

He threw his arms up. “I don’t know, Y/N, I thought it’d be fun to mess with him. He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine.” He sat next to her. “Besides, what are you really doing here? I mean, I’m flattered, but I’ve moved on. You missed your chance. Elena and I are very happy…”

“Where exactly is Elena?”

“She’s on a road trip with Bonnie,” he sighed.

“So she doesn’t know about any of this?”

Damon shook his head. “Look, I don’t need to be distracted worrying about Elena, too. It’s best if she’s as far from here as possible. Bonnie, too.”

Y/N couldn’t argue, but she knew Damon would be in the dog house after this.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked again.

She swallowed, her face turning serious as she played with the leather bracelet along her wrist. “I need a favor…”

He furrowed his brows with curiosity, about to ask why she wouldn’t just go to Stefan when she pressed her finger to her lips, silencing him. She glanced toward the door, pointing in the direction of the rest of the house before gesturing toward her ear.

So it was a favor she didn’t want anyone else to overhear…

“Why don’t I drive you home?” He asked.

“Thanks.”

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alvaar-aldaviir · 4 years ago

Text

First Bite (Vampire AU)

Based from this post. Because I can’t be trusted @ffxiv-writers.

Time Frame: Heavensward. No Spoilers. AU

Notes: A dumb vampire AU where the twins are older and dhampire’s. Vampires are the upper class and respected academics/mages in Sharlayan and so quite respected there, but wary mistrust everywhere else. Dhampire’s do not need blood to survive, but to replenish their magic. Everything else in the story is the same, more of an exploratory ‘what if’ because we ALL know vampires are kinda hot and I have no self control.

Just a self-indulgent bit of writing for that first bite scenario, after a heated battle against the Dravanians in early HW.

Cross posted to Ao3.

“You going to be alright?” Alvaar asked softly, studying the Arcanist still slumped against the side of the bed closer to the fire. He’d done his best to patch the larger holes torn into the long-abandoned cabin in the Coerthas Western Highlands, but even then the blizzard raging outside still blew frigid air through.

He wasn’t overly surprised when he only got a mute nod from the pale Elezen. Alphinaud hadn’t spoken much since he’d collapsed in the snows after a fourth abrupt bout with the Dravanian Horde during their scouting mission. With a barely breathing dhampire in his arms, unfamiliar terrain, and a storm rolling in, Alvaar had been given little choice but to try and hole up somewhere to wait it out. Finishing tacking up one of his spare oil skins over one of the shattered windows for insulation, he hopped down off a chair and moved closer. Tossing a few more logs on the fire and tugging the tipped over long table a bit closer to help reflect more heat into the sheltered alcove he’d made from what surviving furniture remained. It wouldn’t be the most lavish of accommodations, but there was plenty of wood to keep them from freezing to death and they wouldn’t be buried under snow. That would be good enough to get them through.

“Jerky?” he offered, holding the wax paper bag he dug out of his pack in offer. “Otherwise I might have enough stuff on me to cook something,” he continued, finding a seat beside him on the floor.

Still buried under the thick blanket Alvaar had wrapped him up in earlier, Alphinaud shook his head slowly, gaze fixed on some far-off point through the floor.

“You should eat something Alphinaud. And don’t start with a ‘only the blood of the living’ crap I’ve seen you eat scones and tea,” Alvaar chided.

“I eat solid foods yes. But it would be a waste right now. I won’t keep it down,” he murmured.

That made the Bard still before ducking his head to study him with concern. “You sick? You said earlier it was magic depletion. That’s a rest and eat well situation Leveilleur. I can do a broth or something instead?”

Again, he shook his head, seeming a touch more annoyed but breathing out a slow sigh before he winced with discomfort. “I... I’m afraid I didn’t account for this much difficulty in our travels. And in light of recent days and troubles it has been difficult to acquire fresh stock...” he mumbled.

Staring at him for a long moment, Alvaar finally piped in with a flat, “You need blood.”

The dhampire’s ears twitched, a faint flush coloring his face as he ducked his head. “I... I’ll be fine. It will be difficult, but I can make it until we get back to Ishgard. The shipment Urianger was orchestrating must have arrived by now.”

A long moment of silence stretched out between them, Alvaar chewing on another bite of jerky as he mulled it over before washing it down with a swig from his canteen and slapping a hand to the floor.

“Well, people got to eat,” Alvaar offered with a much calmer tone than he really felt. “It’s just a bit of blood, right? Nothing fatal?”

Alphinaud blinked at him in surprise, the first proper look Alvaar had gotten of him and the red of his eyes was a stark shift from the deep blue he was familiar with. It was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably, but he refused to let it show.

A few stunned moments ticked past before the Arcanist was nodding. “Y-Yes. I mean no, I mean... of course it’s nothing fatal I’m not savage,” he scoffed at last before his expression muted back out with a faint wince.

Alvaar studied him silently, noting the slightly hunched posture and the way the Elezen’s arms were wrapped at his stomach. He seemed almost sick from the Bards point of view, and in some manner he probably was. Alvaar was familiar with the feeling of starving after all, the gnawing almost sickening ache of an overly empty stomach...

“Then I’ll help,” he stated promptly. “Or donate, whatever you want to call it. What do you need me to do? Get a knife? Offer my neck? What?”

Staring at him in puzzled discomfort for a moment the Arcanist sighed heavily. “Nothing so dramatic... in fact I, well, I prefer drinking from a glass honestly that’s how I’ve consumed blood for years,” he mused aloud.

“... Holy shit do you just have fucking wine bottles of blood lying around in your fancy mansion in Sharlayan? Have you ever served it to a non-vampire?” Alvaar asked, tone purposely upbeat to keep them both distracted and given the nervously amused snort that escaped the pale Elezen it must have worked.

“In a fashion, yes I suppose so, and no. We’ve never mixed up the bottles. ... but a knife would be wasteful I think. It would also hurt more, and I would really rather... Just your arm please? If you’re certain...” he murmured, keeping his gaze lowered and obviously embarrassed and uncomfortable.

“Hey, what’s a little blood among friends hm? Sides, it’s better than the alternatives. I’d rather not see any problems today and, well starving sucks,” Alvaar murmured, holding his arm over after slipping it free from his coat and rolling up his sleeve.

The fingers that lightly gripped his wrist were eerily cold, enough to almost make the Bard flinch but he refrained given how guilty Alphinaud already seemed about the whole thing. And it wasn’t a big deal, it would be like a trip to the chirurgeons... just where needles were teeth... apparently...

“It’s been awhile since I’ve done this,” the Arcanist murmured, thumb trailing along the inside of the Bards wrist almost like he was measuring something. Then he was drawing Alvaar’s arm up even as he lowered his head, mouth opening wide and-

‘Have his canines always been that long?’ Alvaar wondered with a start, watching in morbid fascination as elongated canines set to his skin and-

“Ah!” he hissed before he could stop himself, gritting his teeth and still stubbornly staying put by force of will at the burning pinpricks he felt in his arm. The pain only doubled when the Arcanist jerked away abruptly at the sound.

“Sorry! Twelve above, sorry Alvaar I-” he apologized immediately.

“Don’t worry about it, just a reflex. Do what you gotta kid,” Alvaar cut in, lifting his arm a bit for emphasis. “Rude to waste food, right?” he joked.

The glower he got in return made him grin even as his heart was thumping instinctively with fear.

“I meant sorry because I haven’t done this in some time and I’ve sort of forgotten the steps...” the Arcanist grumbled, a faint flush of embarrassment on his face. “Just... don’t judge, it’ll help.”

Alvaar had been about to question it before falling silent at the wet heat of a tongue lapping over the wound. He winced again on reflex, but the sting was already fading to leave only the pleasant warmth of the man’s mouth against his skin.

“Oh... that’s, neat?” he murmured, still morbidly entranced by the whole situation.

Alphinaud made a soft sound, more to let him know he’d heard him than for anything else. Darker eyes flicked to the Bard pointedly as he lifted his head slightly. “Better?”

“Yea. It’s fine.”

“Good. ... Could you... oh, never mind,” he huffed.

“Could I what?” he pressed.

“I was going to ask if you could look away but somehow, I doubt you would,” Alphinaud mumbled sheepishly.

Blinking at him in confusion, the Bard snorted when it clicked. “Don’t bite people much huh?”

It earned a flat scowl. “Not particularly. Were things not so dire I would prefer to just weather it out but... with all of the fighting since we arrived, I’ve depleted my aether reserves. Even half vampires still have slower aetheric recuperation than most every other creature-”

“Not that this isn’t fascinating but maybe explain it once you’re done?” Alvaar cut in pointedly. “Honestly, I think it’s more surprising you’re not just fixated on my blood.”

“I am,” Alphinaud shot back a bit sharper than he meant and quickly looking away. “... It just... helps. To think about other things and not the fact I’m starving. Wouldn’t you pace yourself so you don’t make yourself sick?”

“... Would you get sick?” Alvaar returned, tilting his head a bit in puzzlement.

“I... no, but what could happen would be worse and I would rather it not happen.”

“Lose control you mean,” the Bard continued flatly, taking the faint flush on the other Elezen’s face as a yes. “Listen I won’t hesitate to punch you in the fucking face if you start gnawing up my arm. This buffet ain’t open and it ain’t free.”

“You say while insisting I hurry up and drink...” Alphinaud returned drily.

“And you should before my senses come back to me and I change my mind. That’s my draw arm I’m offering and it’s going to be a pain in the ass firing while injured.”

“You won’t be injured,” the Arcanist returned promptly before setting his teeth back to Alvaar’s arm and this time he barely felt a thing. Well, he felt something distantly, like his arm was locally numb and he registered the pressure, but he could still clearly feel the softness of lips and tongue against his skin and-

It was a little unsettling how those smut novels were rather on point. It was sort of... sensual wasn’t it?

Looking off abruptly, the Bard resolved himself to not think about it. It was just to help a friend. A very annoying prat of a friend that also happened to be a half vampire or dhampire or... whatever it was. Certainly nothing to get this bothered over. Unless…

“... Wait, there isn’t some passive enchantment shit is there?” he asked, looking back at the snowy haired Elezen. Who wasn’t listening and seemed rather intent on the whole blood thing now...

Shite.

“Hey. There isn’t some mind control shit in all this right?” he asked again, louder and tapping Alphinaud’s shoulder as he tried not to panic.

Thankfully, it got his attention, pulling away with a parting lick and wavering sigh. “Beg pardon?” he asked, blue eyes back to normal but dark and vibrant and honestly if Alvaar needed to find words to describe the soft breathy way he spoke and look he was giving it would be something akin to ‘hour two of marathon sex.’ The urge to ask if he wanted a cigarette almost overrode any sense of propriety.

His question dropped off his mind as he noted the clarity of his own thoughts against the warm and almost sleepy look of the dhampire sitting next to him. If anyone here was charmed it wasn’t himself… And hadn’t Minfillia mentioned something about the Echo protecting his mind from outside intrusion in the past? … Damnit. He wasn’t supposed to be the one panicking here.

“You okay?” he asked carefully after shaking himself free from the thoughts.

“Fine. Perfectly fine,” Alphinaud replied, finally seeming to settle fully into the present and glancing down to where his fingers were still curled around the Bards wrist before lowering a hand to his tome. The healing spell was faint, but still as quiet and warm as the times before as it sealed the two pinpricks of blood before he let go and shifted away a few feet. “Thank you, um, yes, sorry for that and not to be rude but please stay over there for a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Alvaar murmured slowly. “But you’re fine?”

“Absolutely.”

“And you’re not going to savage me...”

“Of course not.”

“So...?” Alvaar pressed after a few moments.

“.... What?” Alphinaud asked, giving him a wary look.

“I don’t get a critique on the vintage?” he joked.

“Alvaar don’t ask that...”

“Why not?”

“Because I really don’t enjoy hurting people contrary to public opinion of my kind and it’s a little hard to remember it when you taste that good,” he returned flatly before pausing, another faint flush coloring his face before he was hugging his knees to his chest in a sulk.

“.... You know I thought I would be... So, is it more like trying to pin down a liquid flavor or a solid flavor?” Alvaar continued anyway.

“We are not having this conversation Aldaviir.”

“I see how it is. Here I am, putting myself out on the line and-”

“Alvaar.” It’s said firmly but there was a touch of anxiety underneath, a note the Bard doesn’t miss in part because it’s reflected in the nervous gaze he’s getting. The glitter of ocean blue over the top of his knees where he’s still hunched over, arms wrapped around his legs and making himself as small as possible.

It’s not the first time he notices how naive and inexperienced the dhampire can be, but it is the first time he thinks perhaps the Arcanist may be more concerned over what makes him different than Alvaar ever was.

He blinks, meeting that worried gaze for a long moment before glancing away to study the fire instead. “You’re right, I shouldn’t tease you. I’m sorry that was out of line.” The quiet crackles of the fire and howling winds outside are the only thing to fill the minutes of silence that stretch between them.

“... How do you make jokes about it?”

The whispered question almost doesn’t reach Alvaar’s ears, but it does and he gives the Arcanist a puzzled look anyway.

“The people of Eorzea... They fear my kind. They only begrudgingly accepted any help from my Grandfather because the situation was so desperate, and they didn’t know what he was. Surely they might suspect it but they would never ask. The only ones here aside from the Scions that know what I am is you...” he murmured, carrying on when Alvaar remained quiet. “When my sister and I first arrived, we came across a caravan being overrun by bandits. The situation was so bleak, and the night was so dark, we had little choice but to use our powers to help them.”

Voice trailing off, the Arcanist buried himself a bit further into the blanket he’d been given. “They screamed. They called us monsters. When everything was over, they tried to kill us too. Alisaie said she wasn’t surprised. The ignorance of Eorzeans has always been a problem she said. But... I started to understand why.

“We don’t think of it much in Sharlayan, where vampires are accepted parts of society. Mortals donate blood freely and it’s preserved and kept openly. Many of the great advancements in aetherology have been made with mortal and vampire scholars working together. There’s no reason to be afraid of vampires because it’s taught to us from the day we’re born not to hurt others. Why would we have to take what’s freely given? We give back our achievements and research freely in exchange. We fight and work together. It’s a cardinal sin to turn someone into a vampire, or to willfully harm someone. Punishable by death or exile at the very least, a sentence that may as well mean death. But the people of Eorzea don’t see that. They only see us as monsters... as something approaching voidsent... So why don’t you? Why aren’t you afraid?”

Studying him quietly for a moment Alvaar pushed himself closer. Pausing briefly when Alphinaud tensed before carefully looping an arm around the Arcanist’s shoulders and pulling him into his side. Settling his cheek against soft white hair he blew out a faint sigh.

“You’re not a monster Alphi, you’re my friend. I made a promise to you and Tataru both when we fled to Coerthas. That I would keep you safe and protect you. I don’t make those sorts of promises to people I don’t trust and care about. What you are doesn’t change who you are right? As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a friend with some interesting dietary needs.”

Blinking at nothing in particular, the dhampire made a slight annoyed face Alvaar couldn’t see but could hear. “It’s vaguely insulting to hear you distill my troubles down to something so base.”

Alvaar gave a soft snort of amusement. “Sorry. Not my intent. It’s just... not a big deal to me personally Alphi. The world at large has its reasons, and I’ll admit I was wary at first but we’re really not that different. Sides, whatever you took I feel fine so it doesn’t seem that big a deal to me.”

“Your blood is... unusually aether rich,” Alphinaud commented after a moment. “It wouldn’t take very much.”

“No shit? Well, I barely cast magic anyway, so I guess that’s fortunate for next time,” Alvaar returned easily.

“Next time?” The incredulous look on the Arcanist’s face had the Bard trying extremely hard not to laugh.

“Yea next time. There always ends up being a next time for this sort of stuff. Gods, read a book Leveilleur,” Alvaar joked, pulling away enough to steal part of the blanket and readjust it over both their shoulders.

“What sort of books are you reading where there’s an invariable need to take blood from someone ‘next time?’” he persisted, frowning as he was once again pulled into the Bard’s side.

Ruffling fluffy white strands absently, Alvaar stretched out a bit, crossing one boot over the other and settling back against the broken bed frame. Leaning his cheek against Alphinaud’s head, he gave a faint squeeze of the arm around him. “Come on, quit fussing and get some sleep.”

“That’s not you answering my question Alvaar,” he complained.

“I have my sources. Now hush, we should get some sleep while we can.”

The Arcanist blew out an irritated breath but didn’t argue it further. Though he did make a reasonable effort by the way he shifted and the several bothered huffs he made as he got comfortable of letting Alvaar know he was beyond annoyed. It just made the Bard chuckle in amusement, again ruffling soft strands gently before closing his eyes and slipping into the easy light sleep that was waiting to claim him faster than usual.

It made him miss when the Arcanist finally eased into his side, shifting a bit closer into the Bard’s warmth before falling into a quiet sleep himself.

#wol #alvaar aldaviir #alphinaud #alphinaud leveilleur #vampire au #smells like writer's block #someone take my fanfic privileges away #now I'm writing vampires #friendly reminder Alvaar absolutely reads trashy romances #on the off chance anyone wants to run with this #go ahead. I'm unlikely to do much with it #oc #writing #mywriting

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qveensbury · 5 years ago

Text

Try Not to Hurt Yourself

gift fic for @babyfairybaekhyun/ @xheavenisnear

Dadko/Momtara fic based on this post

AO3

The move to Caldera City was less than ideal.

It was the last possible thing Zuko wanted to do after graduating high school and finding life outside the Fire Nation.

But Iroh had been like a father to him. And when Iroh asked Zuko to be interim CEO and oversee business until a new one was selected following Iroh’s retirement, the least Zuko could do was honor his wishes.

The kids said they were fine. Kya and Iroh II (affectionately called Ni) were fighters, from genes they inherited from both sides of their family tree. Like water they adapted and like fire they charted their own path.

It didn’t mean Katara and Zuko weren’t prepared for the tipping point.

Moving from Ba Sing Se to Caldera City was an adjustment. They went from a mosaic of browns and beiges to a homogenous pot. Having supportive parents and an excited-to-see-their-grandkids grandma and great-uncle helped.

But life happens.

When Kya’s school called in the middle of the day asking both parents to come pick Kya up, everything was put on hold.

The nice thing about running your uncle’s company was knowing the “family first” values weren’t only for display.

Zuko pulled the key out of his car’s ignition and responded to Katara’s text.

[[zuko: just parked. see you soon.]]

In all fairness, Zuko and Katara had their reservations about the school.

Fire Sages Academy: Equipping Tomorrow’s Leaders.

An elite school serving the city’s most prominent families.

Katara wanted the kids to keep attending public school. She wanted them to have a relatable experience and to stay as grounded as possible.

As the daughter of Uqsuaqtuq Bay’s mayor, she knew how important it was to know and stay connected to a diversity of backgrounds.

And Zuko, the alum of Fire Sages Academy, agreed.

But his family had so much weight in Caldera City and FSA knew how to handle high profile families. Administrators knew how to deal with parents and shepherd children and protect them from paparazzi and other predators.

“In addition to shielding the kids from any enemies my father or sister may have created, we don’t have to play with kid gloves on at Fire Sages. They know when a parent is throwing a tantrum versus starting a battle. We would have to walk on eggshells at the public schools here Tara. At least at Fire Sages, we don’t have to pull punches.”

For a while, it seemed like they’d made the right choice.

Zuko navigated his way to the principal’s office.

Kya sat in the lobby of the administrative wing. Through the glass above her head, he could see other desks and offices.

“Kya.”

Sitting up straight, she looked at him. Nearly Katara’s twin when she was fourteen, her dark eyes were the only striking difference.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked in Inuktitut. They wanted their biracial children to know both of their ancestors’ tongues. And in a city where everyone was fluent in Japanese, Inuktitut was their secret code.

Kya snorted. “Mom asked the same thing. I’m fine.”

“What happen—“

“Mr. Ryuku!” An older woman startled as she walked into the small lobby. “We didn’t expect to see you. Let me tell Principal Nakahara.” She hurried back inside.

“Liar.”

“Kya!”

“It’s true! Mom told them you were coming. They think I can’t hear them but they’ve been trying to speed things up so they wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

A divot formed on Zuko’s forehead. “Me?”

“Something about how you were as a student or how you press teachers in parent-teacher conferences that makes them nervous. Like you’re unpredictable or…like…”

“Volatile,” he crossed his arms. A word he’d heard enough times at Fire Sages.

“Yea, I couldn’t think of the word in Inuktitut.”

“And you’re sure—“

“Mr. Ryuku, right this way.”

Before following the older woman, he nodded at Kya. She nodded back.

The fidgeting of the receptionist was one thing. The number of staff watching him walk by was another.

The walls were made of eyes.

When do you think the Ryuku kid is going to burst?

Letting go of a breath he’d been holding, Zuko reminded himself, Whatever. You’re here for your daughter. Let’s stay present, Zuko. Let’s provide support to our daughter and reduce the trauma she experiences here.

The receptionist opened the door for him.

“Mr. Ryuku, Principal Nakahara.”

“It’s Ryuku-Kuruk. I didn’t get a chance to corr— say so earlier.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she mumbled before closing the door behind him.

“Mr. Ryuku, have a s—“

“Ryuku-Kuruk,” he leaned over kissing Katara’s forehead.

She didn’t move.

“R-right. Have a seat, please. I’ve already told your wife about the incident and the school has a pretty clear policy about being disruptive in the classroom.”

“Kya disrupted class?” Zuku’s eyes grew before his earlier expression of confusion returned. “That doesn’t sound like her at all.”

‘Well, there were several eyewitnesses and she doesn’t dispute the account. So—“

‘Why don’t you tell my husband what happened, Principal Nakahara.” Katara stood up, “Excuse me while you do. I’ll be right back.”

The shift in Katara’s career was the most notable visible change since moving to Caldera City. In Ba Sing Se, she served as a Councilwoman’s Chief of Staff. Katara was always in a pantsuit or sheath dress and sensible pumps.

Now, as a stay at home mom-slash-charity board of directors member, her wardrobe was far more relaxed. Sweaters and slacks, sundresses. It fooled people who assumed she was weaker than she looked.

If Katara’s taking a lap, this is bad.

After signaling for the principal to begin, Zuko folded his hands.

The principal cleared his throat. “L-like I said, Kya disrupted class. The history class was talking about the Hundred Years War.”

Tension wound up Zuko’s jaw.

The Hundred Years’ War that the Fire Nation slowly waged on the other nations around it. It ended when he and Katara were teenagers but reconciliation efforts were still needed between the four countries.

Katara and Zuko had had conversations with Kya and Ni about the war, especially because the children’s forefathers fought on opposite sides.

Zuko realized and understood the sins of his people. But not everyone had.

“The teacher says Kya raised her hand and accused him of burying facts.” The principal chuckled.

A scowl took root on Zuko’s face.

“When he asked her to mind her manners, she refused to stop talking. It made other students uncomfortable and Kya stood up on her chair at one point. Clearly, you can see how a teacher might have difficulty keeping the class in line after a stunt like that.”

Zuko’s phone vibrated. “Excuse me,” he mumbled.

[[katara: stall]]

“As I said before,” Nakahara continued, “we have a no tolerance policy on—“

“Was he burying the facts?”

“Excuse me?”

“Was the teacher’s lecture on the Hundred Years’ War one-sided?”

Chuckling, Principal Nakahara shifted, “I don’t see why that matters.”

“Is this the account Kya gave?”

“She admitted she disrupted the class and that’s all w—“

“Did you ask her why?"

“Honestly, Mr. Ryuku—“

Zuko crossed his arms leaning back.

“—we hope this won’t be a big fuss. Like I told your wife, this is Kya’s first offense. So we won’t need to take any action that would appear on her permanent record. We’re simply asking for her to apologize to the class and to write a formal apology to Mr. Katsura.”

“An apology?”

“M-Mr. Ryuku, we wouldn’t want to anger you.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Come again.”

The principal cleared his throat. “N-now, see here. This is a pretty lax punishment considering we would want other students to respect their teachers. Principal Nakahara tapped a student handbook as if to make his point.

Zuko took the book and flipped through it. “What page is that policy on?”

Nakahara stammered. “I don’t recall.”

The occasional turn of the page filled the silence.

“So, there’s no policy?”

“I never sa—“

“Well, I don’t see it here.” Zuko closed the book.

“Let’s be rational. No need to let emotions cloud your judgment. Everyone thinks their child is perfect. No need for any t-temper.”

“You’re concerned about me? I think a teacher trying to silence my daughter’s concerns about a war that claimed the life of her grandmother is plenty reason to be angry. The fact that you won’t say what the teacher said or Kya said is pretty suspect. You don’t know where this policy is.” Zuko crossed his arms. “But you shouldn’t be worried about me, and quite frankly I’m livid. You should be worried about my wife.”

The door opened behind him.

“Did you fill Mr. Ryuku-Kuruk in?“

“He did.” Zuko pulled the chair out for Katara.

“Splendid,” she sat down, squeezing his hand to thank him. Opening the textbook in her hand, Katara flipped to the page where she had a bookmark. “Principal Nakahara,” she looked at him, “how would you describe the Fire Nation’s relationship with the Earth Kingdom during the Hundred Years’ War?”

“Well, the Earth Kingdom was colonized.”

“Huh,” she looked at the textbook, “here, the textbook for high school sophomores said they were ‘business arrangements between the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom.’ That’s strange.” She turned to another page. “What about the Massacre at the Southern Air Temple? Were those war crimes or a rare epidemic?”

“War crimes.”

“Hmm,” Katara read. “‘Unfortunately, an unknown illness spread affecting the entire monastery. There were no survivors.’” She pinned the principal with a stare. “When I was in school, they taught us the Fire Nation had the monks face firing squads.”

“W-well.”

“I think,” Katara closed the textbook, “you have a bigger problem on your hands than a student bruising a teacher’s ego. While I can’t say I’ve made up my mind because I haven’t discussed this with my husband, I’m strongly considering pulling our children out of Fire Sages Academy. I want to raise my children to be responsible global citizens and that requires them to know an accurate historical account. Zuko, do you have anything to add?”

“No. I think we have a lot to discuss.”

Nodding, Katara turned back to Principal Nakahara. “In that case.”

“N-no, now. Let’s not be hasty—“

“Hasty?” Katara frowned. “You called us in for a conference about a disrupted class.”

“You can’t tell us what our daughter said, which suggests this was done without gathering the appropriate evidence,” Zuko said.

“We discussed all we could at this moment.” Katara stood up.

“Why are we paying these teachers to teach if they can’t control their students?”

“P-please—“

“I think we’ve heard enough,” Zuko stood. “Let’s go, dear.”

“I’ve already sent for Iroh. Let’s pick up the kids. Mr. Nakahara, good day.”

Principal Nakahara continued to call for them but they didn’t stop.

Ni sat next to his sister. His tawny skin was a couple shades lighter than his sister. He had his father’s chin and his mother’s blue eyes.

“Time to roll,” Katara handed the textbook back to Kya.

“What’s happening?”

“Mrs. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

“Mr. Nakahara, we’ll be in touch. Don’t worry.”

“C’mon kids.” Zuko beckoned his head.

Kya frowned but stood anyway. Crossing her arms, she led the way.

Ni took his mother’s hand, excited to get out of school early.

“Want to grab lunch?” Zuko asked in the elevator to the ground floor.

“Can we go to Bandit’s Keep?” Ni bounced on his toes.

“Hmm. How about we see if your cousins are free to go next weekend, sweetie?”

“Ok.”

“What’s going on?” Kya asked again.

“You’re not in trouble,” Katara said.

“Not with us anyway.”

“Your dad and I have to talk about what we’re gonna do.”

“But, you did the right thing,” Zuko looped his arm around her shoulders.

“We’re so proud of you.”

“I mean I only did it because I know you guys have my back.” She wrapped an arm around her dad as they walked out.

“Always love,” Katara said immediately. She hummed, “How about that place that does Earth style street food?”

“Yes, I’ve been craving cabbage rolls!” Kya said.

“Ok, it’s settled.”

“Don’t you have work, Dad?”

“I’ll go back this afternoon. You know I always have time for family.”

Kya nodded against her dad. “Can I ride with you?”

“Sure,” he handed her the car keys.

“Ni, why don’t you go buckle yourself in?” Katara unlocked the door for him.

They watched their kids get in their cars.

Katara sighed.

“Long time, Madam Prosecutor.”

She scoffed, “We almost made it a year with no issues.”

“There were issues.”

Groaning, she nodded her head. “Let’s talk about it later. I was serious about considering pulling them out.”

“If you want to, let’s do it. It’s gonna cause a splash but we gave enough lip service. It might be the bad publicity they need.” Zuko crossed his arms.

Katara snorted. “As if you care about prestigious Fire Sages Academy’s reputation. I wouldn’t bat an eye if they closed.”

“Kid gloves completely off, huh?”

“Completely,” she laughed.

“We raised some pretty impressive kids, huh, Mrs. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

“We sure did, Mr. Ryuku-Kuruk.”

A/N: Uqsuaqtuq means calm seas in the South Qikiqtaaluk dialect of Inuktitut; Ni means two in Japanese; title from Beyonce’s “Don’t Hurt Yourself”

#mr. and mrs. ryuku kuruk; please and thank you #zutara fanfiction #zutara AU #atla #ATLA AU

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m1m1kyuirl · 6 years ago

Text

Parkner Play Video Games

A quick one-shot about Peter, Harley and Video Games.

Summary: Harley Keener moved into Stark Tower a week ago. One week later, Peter had just about enough of Harley’s constant snarky remarks. Little does he know, all he needs for his world to change is a few rounds at video game.

Warnings: None

Rating: Teen

Words: 1496

Read it on Ao3

“Wow, you’re really bad at the game, Peter.”

Peter felt his body stiffen at Harley’s comment. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard the slightly older boy. Harley had just moved into the Stark tower last week, and from the moment he had walked out of the elevator with his brown hair perfectly messy, with his strong arms, one underneath the cardboard box brimming with gadgets and the other holding the handle of his luggage, with his icy blue eyes that froze Peter in place on the sofa and made him feel as if his skin was on fire, from that moment Peter had known that Harley was trouble. Tony had said that Harley was smart, but he never said anything about him being hot.

“I mean, you’re really, really, bad at the game.” Prodded the taller boy.

Peter prayed for patience silently. He already had plenty of strength, not that his superhuman strength had prevented Harley from making small remarks at everything Peter did. When Peter grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge last Tuesday, he almost spilled half of it on himself when he saw Harley leaning against the kitchen door frame. Harley had said that sugary drinks stunted growth and then turned on his heel and left. Thinking about it still made Peter’s face burn. He wasn’t that short. Besides, he had read a study that said that most humans don’t stop growing until they were 21. That still left him with 4 years of time to get taller.

“Wait. You’re actually really, really, re-” Harley began, but was cut off.

“I get it Harley! I’m really, really, really, bad at this game, okay? Just stick it, will you?” Peter interjected hotly.

Now the only thing that was heard in the living room was the sounds of Peter firing guns and being shot at. He felt a twinge of regret and wondered if he had been a little too harsh but felt that the reprieve from Harley was worth it. A reprieve that was shortly enjoyed.

Harley bounced onto the sofa. The distraction was enough to throw Peter’s aim off, and he was quickly shot down.

“See? Really, really, really, bad.” Harley’s calm and nonchalant tone made Peter see red.

“I only died because of you!” Peter screamed, his voice cracking at the end. He saw the look in Harley’s hazel eyes and felt his anger flare up again. They were gleaming. With glee.

“Not. A. Single. Word.” Peter growled. He hit “respawn”.

Peter peripherally saw Harley open his mouth.

“Not a word.”

He died again.

His eyes shot to his left, where Harley sat, shaking his leg. He saw his shiny lips part.

“Not.”

Harley raised his eyebrows.

“A.”

Harley widened his eyes as if he was trying to appeal to Peter’s better nature.

“Word.”

Harley raised his arms, which Peter noted still looked strong, in surrender. A smirk spread itself across Harley’s face. Peter hated how perfect Harley looked like this. How perfectly infuriating.

Peter hit “respawn” again. He walked through a doorway, thinking about whether to aim for the head or if the chest was better, to account for the recoil of his gun, when he was shot dead again. He struggled to resist the urge to curse. He shoved the controller into Harley’s hands, and made a valiant attempt to shrug off the electricity he felt when their hands touched.

Peter stood up from the sofa and stormed off, thinking about the excuses he was going to have to make up and tell Mr. Stark so that he could avoid being in the tower whenever it was inhabited by Harley. Maybe he would conveniently forget his jacket at home, maybe even fall sick. He just didn’t feel like being around Harley. Maybe for the next 20 years. Harley was so mean. It didn’t even matter that he was gorgeous. Or maybe it was the fact that he was so hot that made it worse.

His dramatic exit was brought to a halt. Peter felt a hand on his wrist.

“Wait. Peter.” Harley said. All trace of the snark that Peter had heard all week was gone. “Stay. I’ll teach ya, okay?”

It wasn’t the offer of having Harley teach him that made Peter sit back down on the sofa. It was his tone. It didn’t feel like a knife against his throat, waiting for him to make a mistake, for a reason to cut him. It felt warm, gentle, and caring. Either way, Peter found himself back on the plush sofa in the living room, albeit carefully ensuring that he didn’t face its other occupant.

Peter felt something nudge the side of his arm. He carefully peered over, laying his eyes on the black controller with Harley’s hand still holding it.

“I said I’ll teach ya,” Harley offered, raising his eyebrows. Peter swore he saw Harley physically resisting the urge to wink.

“So, play. What’re you waiting for?” Peter said.

“I ain’t gonna make it that easy, Parker. I’ll teach ya, while ya play.” Harley drawled. He nudged Peter with the controller again.

Peter snatched it out of his hands, earning a grin from the southern boy. His compliance could have been attributed to Harley calling him “Parker” for the first time, or the way his accent and drawl made Peter’s insides flutter.

He hit “respawn” once again, and started controlling his character, walking him out of spawn.

Peter froze. There was a thumb that wasn’t his own on the controller, causing his character to move away from his usual route. Harley was leading him into an underground tunnel, away from all the chaos of the battlefield. Rounding a corner, Peter jumped as he saw a crouching enemy. His gun fired, taking the enemy out. Peter looked down, puzzled. He certainly hadn’t fired. That was when he realized that Harley’s right hand was hovering inches away from his own hand. He pieced two and two together. Then, Peter’s mind went blank. Harley’s hovering hand fell onto his, confidently maneuvering through the map, calmly gunning down any enemies that dared to cross his path. What really took Peter’s breath away, however, wasn’t Harley’s stellar gameplay. It was the fact that for Harley to have his hands on the controller like he did, he would have had to be essentially bear-hugging Peter. Which he was. The contact was driving Peter crazy. His mind buzzed, his skin blazed.

“W-what do you think you’re doing, Harley?” Peter choked.

“Teaching my boyfriend how to play this video game. He’s really thick, it took my literally getting him to straddle me for him take a hint.” Harley said nonchalantly.

“Boyfriend?” Peter squeaked.

“Yeah. Did I mention he’s thick? I’ve been dropping hints all week since I moved into the same building as him. All he got was mad, though.” Harley continued.

Suddenly it all made sense. All the comments. It was classic playground flirting. If you want a person’s attention, give them a shove. Peter felt so stupid for not connecting the dots earlier. But now he had more important things to worry about. He hoped Harley wasn’t noticing the tent forming in his sweatpants.

“I think he’s got the hint now, though.” Harley gave that smirk of his again. Peter could just feel Harley smirking.

That was when the elevator dinged.

It was too late for Peter to get in a more presentable position so all he could do was sit there, frozen in between Harley’s arms – and legs – as Tony Stark strolled out of the elevator. It took the mechanic a few moments before he saw the boys straddling on his million-dollar sofa, as he was in a holographic conference with the other Avengers.

Then his eyes focused past the semi see-through Captain America and on the scene in front of him. Harley wrapped around Peter, the two of them playing some trending shooter. The former smirking at Tony just like he did all those years ago during the Mandarin fiasco, and the latter, with his face the color of a tomato with the same facial expression he had made when Tony made fun of his Spider-man suit that Tony secretly thought resembled that of a constipated baby.

“Guys, I’ll call you back.” Tony said. “Hold call.”

“M-Mr. Stark I can explain!” Peter sputtered. He didn’t get a chance to find out how Tony had felt about stuff like this. Peter himself wasn’t even sure what this was. Apparently, he wasn’t as straight as he thought.

Tony paused.

“Take care of him, Harley. And Peter, keep Harley in check.” He eventually said, walking towards his office (on this level).

Peter turned his head to face Harley. Their brown eyes met. Their laughter filled the previously silent room.

“Oh yeah. I won the bet by the way. Peter didn’t know, did he?” Tony returned to the room, once again surrounded by the holographic Avengers.

“Yea, you were right. Darlin’ didn’t have a damn clue.” Harley smirked.

#Parkner #Harley Keener x Peter Parker #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Spider-man #Keenker

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