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imagines-by-cleo · 2 years ago

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Cat got your tongue?

Revolver Ocelot X Fem!Reader NSFW

CW: SMUT, alcohol, teasing, hair pulling, blowjobs, edging, begging, overstimulation, dumbification, unprotected sex, tooth rotting fluff

Back at it again with more mgs fics! This one actually turned out better than I expected and I think it might be one of my favorite reader inserts I've written so far. I'm not expecting this to get a lot of attention but if you do happen to like it I am willing to write more and I'm always taking requests!

"So, why did you choose Ocelot for your codename? Cause I don't think they're native to Russia." You asked, speech slurring slightly as you swirled the half drunk glass of vodka that he insisted was the best.

The night was getting away from you as you entered one meaningless conversation after another, the alcohol and small talk served as mere distractions from the reason you were meeting in the first place.

"No you're right, they're native to Texas, I believe." Answered the man being questioned, before finishing his own glass.

"Ah! So that must have something to do with the whole cowboy aesthetic." You exclaimed, extremely proud of your detective work.

"Are you trying to figure me out?" He teased while leaning back against the couch you both were sitting on without losing the amused look in his eye.

"I could ask you the same question." You replied, doing your best to best to stay collected as the alcohol took effect. "I know why you brought me here."

"You know a lot of things. Things that can be very useful to the Diamond Dogs." He noted before taking the bottle from the nearby coffee table and refilling your drink.

Your surroundings couldn't have made it more obvious, dim lights, comfortable furniture, booze that was most definitely laced with truth serum. This was a sugar coated interrogation.

"Is that your plan? To talk me into working with your gang of mercenaries?" You laughed though that did nothing to deter his attempt to coerce you.

"We prefer the term 'private military organization', and we're hoping that with your connections you can help build us into more than a just bunch of thugs with a little firepower." He continued, sliding closer to emphasize his last point. "Put the diamond in diamond dogs, if you will."

The playful tone of his voice made your heart drop, here you were discussing politics and secrets that could very well lead to a third world war, but it was all just a game to him. Though the idea of running off to join a rogue military group wasn't appealing at first, his attitude was showing you the more romantic element of it and if it's all a game you might as well play along. Besides, you didn't get this dolled up for just a job interview.

"I hope you don't think you can just win me over with a few drinks." You cooed, taking another sip from your glass.

"Don't you worry, we'll be sure to make this decision worthwhile." He answered while taking the drink right from your hand and setting it aside.

Determined to maintain the upper hand, you kept your eyes locked with his, even as the unmistakable feeling of a gloved hand traveled up your leg.

"What about my reputation?" You asked, batting your half lidded eyes. "No one will trust me with intel if word gets out that I'm working with mercs."

Backing away as he moved closer you gently fell on your back with his body caging yours as he whispered. "It'll be our little secret."

With his face mere inches away from yours the standoff began, his breath hot and sweet mixing with yours, your mouth parted gently and begging for attention. You thought had won the second his lips met yours but were cruelly tricked when he quickly pulled away, his smirk spreading wider when you longingly raised your head to chase the contact. Deciding to up the ante you grabbed the bright red scarf around his neck, other hand tangling in locks of silver and gold as you passionately forced your mouths together, once he groaned into the kiss you took that as your queue to push him away.

His face when you parted was nothing short of a treasure, his cheeks red as the lipstick that had transferred from your face to his, hair tossed and eyes unfocused while he tried to make sense of the situation. You might have been the first person in a decade to see him so perplexed and you were loving every bit of it until he shot you a daring look before dipping down to taste your neck.

The tangy taste of leather touching your parted lips prompted you to bite down, helping Ocelot pull off his glove. Now freed, his hand lifted your dress and traveled up your bare leg, stopping to stroke at the sensitive skin at the top of your thigh. With the help of previously consumed alcohol you felt weightless, perfectly pliable in his grasp, aching for the next caress. Fingertips ghosted over the fabric of your panties while his teeth grazed your jugular.

"Fuck..." The glove fell from your mouth as you sighed.

His lips curved into a smile as his teeth sunk into your neck, slow and deliberate touches burned every nerve and talented mouth stole the breath right out of your lungs. A single finger teased your clit as it hooked under your panties before sliding them down, excited to receive the attention you lifted your dress and raised your leg to assist their removal, only to be left spread out and wanting.

Rolling your hips forward into the expected touch you found nothing, above you Ocelot sat back against the couch twirling your lingerie around his trigger finger. Biting back the urge to protest, your frustration couldn't have been more obvious.

While tilting his head, he had the nerve to ask. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Pouting like a petulant child you sat up and dropped to the ground by his feet. With a forceful push you parted his knees and slid between, making quick work of unbuttoning his pants, ignoring the belted holster around his hips.

"If it's my tongue you're after..." You replied, words punctuated with the swish of a zipper.

His cock barely needed your assistance in being pulled out, springing erect on it's own at the earliest opportunity. Leaning back with his arms spread he tried to play it cool, but the way his leg jerked as you traced a single digit along his throbbing shaft told a different story. Wrapping your lips gently around the tip you felt his muscles tense as he braced for the rest of your mouth, it shouldn't have come as a surprise at this point when you left him with nothing but a teasing peck.

Hearing him snort you looked up eager to witness his reaction, with a roll of his eyes he turned his head to the side, doing his best to look unamused. Using only the tip of your tongue you licked up and down his stiff length, grazing every vein along the way, occasionally stopping to gently suck the head for a quick moment before continuing to torment him. After letting your mouth water over the top, cool beads of saliva ran down his shaft, making him shut his baby blue eyes tight at sensation.

Ocelot was about to break, you could feel it, though he was putting up quite the fight. You weren't sure how long you had been giving him tiny kitten licks and rubbing little circles over his balls with your thumb, but his ragged breathing signaled his impending surrender. The heat growing between your own legs was getting harder to ignore, not to mention your knees were getting sore from kneeling on the hard floor. While planting firm slow kisses along his cock you ran your hands up and down his clothed thighs, trying to coax some kind of response from him.

"пожалуйста...пожалуйста..." He panted over and over.

The words made you stop, you never expected him to outright beg, much less in his native language. Warmth and the rush of newfound intimacy filled your heart where you expected a sense of triumph. The mask was off, the game was over, all that was left were two bodies that couldn't last another second without the other.

Rising as fast as your tired legs would allow, you straddled his lap, lifting your skirt as you positioned your body. The way his already slick cock dragged across your dripping slit made you hiss, his hands urging you to drop as they grasped your hips, nails digging into your skin as his grip tightened. With your forehead pressed to his, looking into his eyes, pupils dilated with lust, you shared a sigh as you finally sank down. it was all too easy to start moving given how wet you had become, rhythm was hard to find as you rose and fell, relying on his hands lifting and pulling your hips in time.

Throwing his head back against the couch, the slow pace making him revel in every inch of his length disappearing deep inside of you. Yanking off his red scarf to expose his neck you tossed it aside and tore his shirt open, running your fingers over any bit of skin you weren't sucking or biting at. One of his hands slid up your back, unzipping your dress and letting your breasts bounce free, while the other hand stayed methodically guiding your movements.

Even with just one hand, his grip wouldn't allow you to go any faster. The burn was unlike anything you had felt before, like being overstimulated yet still deprived. Anticipating an increase in speed your pussy drooled endlessly as your sensitivity grew, ruining the front of his pants as wetness flowed down your thighs.

"Ugh, you make me so wet."

He brushed the hair away from your face before pulling you in for a messy kiss, your bare chest rubbing against his clothed as your bodies drew closer. Forcing your tongue past his lips with little resistance you tasted more of the vodka you had previously shared as his fingers twisted your hair tighter.

Pulling away briefly, Ocelot moaned your name. Your real name, that you never told him. Disregarding the urge to wonder how he came to know it you were overcome with the desire to hear it again. Finding a way to resist his restrictive grasp by pulsing your tight hole as he moved you up and down at the torturous place, the act taunting and provoking him to take more of you.

"Say my name again." You breathed out

An arm snaked around your back, the other lifted your knee as he twisted your position, making you lie on the couch. He whispered your name once, then again between placing a kiss on your cheek, your neck, your chin, behind your ear. To every call you responded with a new sweet sound spilling over your parted lips.

Every thrust was reaching a new depth now, any other man this pussy drunk would be having their way with you like an animal, but not him. The same exquisitely agonizing speed continued, his cock dragging across your sweet spot while your whole body begged for just the slightest rise in pace. Any confidence you displayed earlier was long gone, whimpering in a pitiful fashion as your body writhed. He wasn't even overpowering you in anyway yet you still felt so helpless beneath him.

"You want it bad, don't ya?" His voice dripped with the faux southern accent that you couldn't get enough of.

"So bad..." You whined, hips rising into his thrusts, telling him more than your words ever could.

That answer seemed to be good enough for Ocelot, an accomplished grin spreading on his face as he gave you the speed you had been craving. His momentum rough, wild, passionate. Cinching your legs around his waist, the unremoved gunbelt dug into your flesh, you found it easy to ignore now that your needs were finally being indulged.

Driving into you with such a deliberate force sparked embers in your lower stomach that gradually spread through your whole body, the flames fanned by the gloved hand slipping between your legs. Your climax approached slowly, every time you thought you reached the peak the feeling increased, tremors spreading through your limbs while your moans turned to whimpers.

"That's it, that's it." He softly cooed, guiding you through the orgasm.

Determined to feel your core continue to flutter around him while he spilled out he rubbed in slow gentle circles around your clit, prolonging the waves of pleasure that continued to rush over you. You heard him mumble a few more words that you didn't have the clarity to translate while the warmth of him finally bursting in you spread through your insides.

Hands wantonly explored each others bodies, desperate to not part from the intimacy you two had created for as long as possible. It was a rarity in your lifestyles, being held this tenderly. At this point when 'negotiations' were over you'd be pulling your clothes back on, sparking a cigarette and getting ready to leave. Not here, you were already planning your next return and had no doubt Ocelot was doing the same.

Carfully lifting off of you and lying back on the other end of the couch he spread his arms inviting you to happily crawl between. Resting your head on his chest, feeling it rise and fall while his panting slowed to soft deep breaths you heard his heart beating, prompting you to take his hand and place it on your chest so he could feel the same while you sat quietly and enjoyed each others existence.

"Gonna be a good girl and come work for diamond dogs?." He asked, voice rough and tired.

So quickly after experiencing that kind of mindless pleasure he gained the capacity to focus on business. Whether it was out of avarice or loyalty to his organization you couldn't tell, at least not in this state. Nonetheless you had nothing but admiration for that kind of dedication.

"When do I start?" You teased, nuzzling into his chest, feeling the deep soft laugh that followed.

After a long while the clock on the other side of the room caught your eye, drawing attention to not only your state of undress but how long you had been that way.

"I should probably leave soon." You stated, though you made no effort get up.

There was no rush for you to go, you had no where in particular to be and it wasn't as if you weren't currently laying on your new employer. However if you were going to work with these people you weren't about to tolerate jeers and rumors about you and the length of your little meetings with Ocelot that were definitely true but nobody else's business.

Sitting up and pulling the thin straps of your dress back over your shoulders, you were surprised to receive some assistance in zipping up the back. His fingers trailed up your back and around to the mark he had previously left on your neck, letting out a sentimental sigh while tracing over it.

"Here." He called, picking up the long since discarded scarf off the floor then tying it around your neck. "It's cold out tonight."

Taken aback by the gesture you couldn't think of anything to say, a simple thanks wouldn't be enough after receiving the accessory he was never seen without.

"What's the matter?" He asked, noticing your confusion. "Cat got your tongue?"

You laughed before kissing him one more time, as that was the only way you could think to appropriately express gratitude. Wishing you could stay in his arms a little longer you reluctantly parted, smoothing out your dress, wiping away the smeared makeup, working out the tangles in your hair and trying to look as decent as possible.

The glaring issue of not having anything underneath made itself known when you stood up and felt a cool wetness dripping from between your legs. Squeezing your sticky thighs together you looked around the floor, on the couch, anywhere you might have left your panties.

"Have you seen my..." You asked, gesturing vaguely around thr room.

"I have no idea where they could have run off to." He told you.

He was a good liar, but he wasn't fooling you. It was only fair he kept something of yours anyway. Deciding to drop the issue with a prayer that your thighs would dry off on their own you walked toward the door, soon to be escorted by Ocelot once he sorted his own clothes out. He opened the door for you, noticing the guards coming down the hall his attitude changed drastically.

"When you find the information about the troop movements in Kabul be sure to..." He trailed off as the guards passed none the wiser, grabbing you by the scarf and pressing his lips to yours a final time.

"Anyway." The blush on your face dismantled your femme fatal attitude as you stumbled through the goodbye. "I'll be in touch."

Giving you one last smile and a nod Ocelot leaned on the doorframe while he watched you disappear down the hall. Knowing eyes stared at you while you made your way outside, more accurately at the bright red scarf you wore. Holding your head high you meet their gazes with dignity, unashamed at the implications of being marked as you were. Stepping out into the night you nuzzled the fabric around your neck, inhaling the scent of musk and gunpowder that it carried, hoping that it would never fade as long as you kept it.

#metal gear solid #revolver ocelot #mgsv #mgs ocelot #ocelot x reader #mgs imagines #mgs x reader #mgsvtpp #mgs fanfiction #mgs smut #mgs fanfic #mgs tpp

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melloraie · 4 years ago

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hello do you have any lawlight fic recs where L become corrupt or sort of becomes a villain?? anything with a good twist to be honest

hello anon !!

unfortunately, i haven’t been able to find a genuinely good nor even existing ( ?? ) fic in which l becomes a villain, sadly. but, here are a few fics i would recommend. mello melloraie’s lawlight fic rec list woop woop !!

offer me my deathless death by cactuscactus

rating : T

chapters : 9

status : complete

aka L is a vampire and somehow always finds a reincarnated Light every few decades, and even though Light has no memory of his past lives, he almost always is the cause of L's issues. It's only more of a headache that L falls in love with the bastard every time too.

ok, ok, i know it’s a vampire fic. and i know that seems.....not the most appealing to a lot of people, but trust me, this one is worth it ( no blood sucking required ) it’s so good, the writing is breathtaking and it never fails to make my heart so happy every time.

the execution of all things by luckycharge

rating : T

chapters : 17

status : complete

A world where Light is shot by Higuchi at the end of episode 7 and doesn’t regain his memories or the Note.

this fic’s entire concept is interesting to me because it quite physically prevents light from getting the note, instead of it being his own choice. it’s beautifully written and i recommend it!

how the mighty fall (in love) by rhysiethecompanyman

rating : T

chapters : 1

status : complete

L stands out in the downpour, listening as the heels seem to echo all around him. He’s cold, he thinks, but it’s not from the rain. Rather, it’s this feeling; icy and piercing as it extends ever outward from his core. It has him thinking quite a lot, more than he usually does. About the case, about himself...

About Light.

this one leaves most of the ending slightly ambiguous about the result, per se, but it does have much feels and much rewards after the feels. i loved it a lot and i think you will too!

do not speak to me of martyrdom by walking_pillar_of_salt

rating : M

chapters : 1

status : complete

And that’s what it all boils down to: Light runs, and L follows.

there will never be a time in which i don’t praise this fic - this is one of my favorites by far, one of the best ones i’ve ever read in my life it’s so stunningly good. it’s a fix-it fic ( i won’t spoil more than necessary heh ) and it’s so so so good i could not express it in words. if you’re looking for a good fic with a happy ending this is it.

playing the sims is always better by astralpenguin

rating : T

chapters : 1

status : complete

“What are you even doing? Why is there music? Did you lose your headphones?”

L tapped the side of his laptop screen. “I am waiting for the Sims to load.”

who would’ve thought that a fic about lawlight playing the sims could be so good? it’s cute, a nice calming fic, and it’s really great to just read to pass time and recover your heart from angst.

throw a dice and play with me by olympiansally

rating : M

chapters : 7

status : incomplete ( but still updating !! )

You don’t forget how to play the game just because you lost at it and Light had their instructions manual permanently etched into his very soul. L wins AU! in which Light has been in jail for two years when L shows up asking for his help with a case. Light desperately wants to help, he missed their competition and has been very bored without it but he feels that L is hiding something. Still, Light helps hesitantly, all the while trying to figure out what game the detective is playing at. Meanwhile, L is willing to play at any game, as long as Light plays with him.

oh god this fic has my heart. genuinely. this one is pretty popular so i wouldn’t be surprised if you’d already read it, but it’s incredibly good and beyond my expectations in everything. absolutely incredible fic imo!!

that’ll be all! hope this list helped you find something you liked :]

#lawlight #lawlight fanfiction #lawlight headcanons #lawlight fic recs #death note #l lawliet #light yagami #mello melloraie!#thank you anon :]

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ohmypreciousgirl · 4 years ago

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Xicheng Rec List

I compiled my favorite fics for @waterandsilver after they posted they were finally seeing the appeal of Xicheng. I volunteered to give them good fics to help them understand better the appeal of our ship! So, here we go!

Post-Canon Fics

A Bit of Ruthlessness 110,111 When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proven time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.

Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.

Moments of Clarity 5,201 Snapshots of Lan Huan's road to recovery with a helping hand from Sandu Shengshou. Companion piece from Jiang Cheng’s POV: A Present so Promising

Faith 8,109 [Part 1 of the The Provenance of Hope series] Lan Huan isn’t sure he’s ready for this. (or, Lan Huan and Jiang Cheng meet on a night hunt.)

Visiting Cloud Recesses 7,566 [Part 1 of the Visiting Cloud Recesses series] Since the sunshot campaign they haven't interacted a lot outside of sect business, but Jiang Cheng has always found the First Jade of Lan gracious and pleasant to be around. Especially in comparison to his younger brother, who would never smile at Jiang Cheng the way Lan Xichen is right now, as if he's genuinely happy to see him.

It's easier to let go (let me hold you) 24,464 Five times someone noticed something was wrong and the one time someone did something about it.

Carried on the wind 1,129 [Part 1 of the The courtship of Jiang Wanyin & Lan Xichen series] Lan Xichen’s voice is very soft when he says: “Today is the day our mother died.”

Overgrown 1,408 [Part 1 of the Coming home to you series] Jiang Cheng has better things to do than follow Lan Xichen around Lotus Pier, and yet here he is.

Regret 2,290 Lan Xichen is left standing in his garden, his garden of regret and shame and all the bad things Lan Xichen hates about himself, and suddenly he can’t stand it for one second longer.

A lovely name 3,146 [Part 1 of the Paws for thought series] Jiang Cheng doesn’t like the feeling of a curse sinking through his skin at the best of times, and now he’s a fucking cat, because Wei Wuxian thinks he’s hilarious. Well, he won’t find it so hilarious when Jiang Cheng changes back and breaks his legs.

Breaking Anew 20,389 There are different ways a person can break. It is a lesson Jiang Cheng will spend his life learning.

Under The Morning Sun 22,739 Jiang Cheng returns to Cloud Recesses to find peace and stability. Instead, he finds an unexpected romance with Lan Xichen. Sequel: Strength of Your Love

(nothing special) (something special) 4,950 Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen both have jagged edges. But perhaps their broken pieces can fit together into something new. Sequel: won't you say you love me later

Come to Decide 2,381 [Part 1 of the Little Talks series] “This is why I lose sleep over you,” Jiang Cheng murmured. “You might think I’m pining for your touch or your voice or your gaze, but no - I’m just worrying about you being an idiot.”

Don't stop being rude 2,582 “The Hanshi,” Lan Jingyi suddenly says, effectively jolting Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts, and bowing again.

“Please talk some sense into Zewu-Jun.”

“Oh, that I will,” Jiang Cheng promises and when a tiny spark of fear enters Lan Jingyi’s eyes, he gives him his sweetest smile before he walks off.

“Oh gods, what have I done,” he hears Lan Jingyi mutter behind him, but he doesn’t try to stop him.

Clever boy.

Don't let him win 1,685 “What are you doing?” Jiang Cheng asks him, voice much softer now, and he’s quick to carefully rub some warmth back into Lan Xichen’s hands.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Xichen whispers, the same thing he always says when Jiang Cheng forces his way into Lan Xichen’s seclusion, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t give less of a fuck about this.

“Well, neither should you,” he gives back, a well-rehearsed dance by now, and Lan Xichen’s mouth twists in that all too familiar way.

Good things about Yunmeng 3,343 Or, the one where Jiang Cheng attempts the impossible.

Love Is For Other People 3,704 It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng never thought about it. About love, that was.

Listless 1,787 When Jiang Cheng came up with his list, he knew that everyone else's would be different from his. It just hurts to find out again and again that he would never be the first.

And then there's Xichen.

twinkle of a bell 7,821 Jiang Cheng and Lan Huan meet at the abandoned village, looking for at least a glimpse of a new life.

Tread 1,647 “I’m going to take him with me,” Jiang Cheng says and even though Lan Xichen can’t see them, he can feel the tension in the air.

“No,” comes Wangji’s almost immediate answer, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Not that it ever stopped Jiang Cheng before.

these tears flowing down aren't a waste 2,002 “How do I confess my love to someone?” Jin Ling asks.

“Do I look like someone who has been in love?” Jiang Cheng questions back.

Through a Storm that Never Goes Away 32,948 For all of that, for his inherent complicitness in Jin Guangyao’s crimes, for trying to maintain impartiality until he had enough evidence, Lan Xichen could understand wanting him dead.

He could even understand if there were those who still felt the need to take some revenge for what Jin Guangyao did and were dissatisfied that he was dead. Lan Xichen might look like an acceptable target.

But to target Wangji as well...

I am cursed to love you (to the grave) 39,410 Jiang Cheng can't sleep.

The Comfort of You 24,904 [Part 1 of the The Belonging series] On the eve of Jin Ling's 20th birthday, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen take a step forward into a life that will forever be changed.

(Three years after the events of Guanyin Temple Lan Xichen asks a pivotal question of the man he's been falling in love with for the past year. Jiang Cheng has never really felt what he feels for Lan Xichen and falls apart in his hands. And that's okay.)

I Put You First 7,178 Lan Xichen gets a little jealous when the Other Boys thirst over Sect Leader Jiang. Luckily, Jiang Cheng only has eyes for one man.

Canon Era Fics

A Small Measure of Peace 122,790 With his brother in seclusion, Lan Xichen finds himself in temporary custody of his nephew with little to no expertise in the child-raising department. Uncertain and alone, Zewu-Jun is willing to do everything to be the person Yuan needs—even if it means inviting Sandu Shengshou to a playdate.

There's Hope for the Hopeless 11,791 Part of being Sect Leader means going to weddings, both those important to him and those that he is convinced to attend.

5 times Jiang Cheng went to a wedding + his own.

A good night's rest 1,795 [Part 1 of the Sing for me series] Jiang Cheng is standing at the end of the pier, clad in simple sleeping robes, and he’s walking up and down, bouncing a sniffling Jin Ling on his arm. And he is singing to the boy, his voice soft and low, but clear enough to ring out over the water and carry.

Lan Xichen stops dead in his tracks and keeps still, not wanting to disturb Jiang Cheng or upset Jin Ling again. The boy is clearly fighting sleep, but the steady movement of Jiang Cheng and his lullaby are doing wonders in dragging him to sleep anyway.

Beside You 6,624 [Part 1 of the Lan Furen series]

Jiang Cheng leaves Lotus Pier behind him, giving up his position, his family and his home to start a new life as a rogue cultivator. He can't quite make himself leave Yunmeng completely though, not just yet, and as he loiters on the outskirts he comes across Lan Xichen, evidently on the run.

Together, they fret for themselves, their loved ones and each other as the Wens and impending danger draws closer.

The Desperate Search Began 2,361 [Part 1 of the Some Day I'm Gonna Make You Mine series] It starts with a fight, Jin Zixun and Jiang Wanyin bumping heads over a battle plan. The Sunshot campaign will not slow for one brush of ego, but Jin Zixun has found himself outranked by a boy that he feels of no consequence compared to a member of the shining Jin sect.

When Nie Mingjue is present, or even Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixun keeps his counsel. He does not push. Sadly, the bruise to his ego will not appear to have forgotten that while he is a valued member of their war council, Jiang Wanyin is a sect leader now. The fact that he’s a boy younger than even Jin Zixuan, rankles.

Add that they are only witnessed by Lan Xichen and Jin Zixun becomes a discredit to Lanling Jin.

remember these words i say 4,133 “Please, allow me to fix this.” Lan Xichen finds himself asking, begging. It is for his own peace of mind, but it is also for Jiang Cheng and for Jin Ling, for the people of Lotus Pier who have watched their home burn and fought hard to build it back.

“I do not know how you could.” Jiang Cheng points out.

Lan Xichen nods in agreement. “I do not know either, now, but –” Wangji isn’t the only stubborn one in the family, “I will find a way.” He promises, determined.

fill the cracks in (with your light) 2,947 [Part 1 of the moments through the years series] Lan Xichen's voice doesn't have the usual light note in it when he asks, “What are we doing, Jiang Wanyin?”

Waxing Moon 1,925 [Part 1 of Soft] After Wei Wuxian was sent home from Cloud Recesses, Jiang Cheng realizes it's pretty lonely without him. Luckily, sulking on a rooftop leads to a new friendship.

Tipsy at best 2,458 Jiang Cheng tugs Nie Huaisang along, and they are stumbling more than walking, but in their inebriated state even that is funny.

They are snickering still when they suddenly see a figure in white appear at the end of the path.

“Uh-oh,” Jiang Cheng says, and it’s entirely too loud, but he’s still too drunk to care about that right now.

Nie Huaisang, on the other hand, seems to have sobered up, because his eyes take on a calculating glint behind his fan.

“Say, Jiang Cheng, what were your requirements for a partner again?” Nie Huaisang asks and it’s enough to make Jiang Cheng stop.

it all passes someday 13,638 A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

Punishment 5,415 [Part 1 of the The Rules of Living series] “33 lashes,” one of the Elders suddenly coldly says and Lan Xichen’s stomach turns over. “20 for his brother and 13 for daring to defy us,” he goes on and Lan Xichen bows his head in acceptance.

The same punishment Lan Wangji endured. Lan Xichen can do it, too.

And he manages, without a sound, like Lan Wangji, if only just barely.

#xicheng #the untamed #rec time #xicheng fic #jiang cheng #lan xichen

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momtaku · 4 years ago

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i feel like one of the biggest issues in the levi fandom in general all comes down to superbowl. i know you're convinced you're right which is cool. but i've read many different metas and takes and i have to say all of them are pretty well supported too. in my honest opinion, i truly think it could go either way. the way u view the super bowl really defines how you view eruris relationship. i just wish people could accept that. we have peoples on both side claiming theyre 100% right and there’s no other way to view it, both using parts of interviews and smartpasses that appeal to them. i wonder why it’s so hard to understand that isym left it so vague that it could go either way. eruris devotion is not as “obvious” as you claim. before stumbling across your blog i didn’t even think it was that significant a relationship. i cant deny it now but i wonder why it’s so hard for you or tsuki to get that not everyone is going to agree with your takes just because you think it’s textually supported. there’s soo many fans who watch the show and have no idea eruri is a thing until they join the fandom. it doesn’t make them stupid it just means we took different things from the manga. for some the devotion was plain obvious, for others it wasn’t. for some the devotion is interesting, for others it isn’t. why not just accept that?

Oh god please don’t lump Tsuki in with the likes of me 😂 What I am about to say about Tsuki has a Disclaimer for mistakes and misinterpretation because what follows are my thoughts about her--but I’d say her bias is best summed up as “the intricacies and possibilities of language”. If you’ve perceived a ship bias on her blog, I think it’s more that she sometimes pushes back on mistranslations she sees. She takes translation more seriously than anyone I’ve met. She’d rather lose an arm than contribute to a false narrative running loose in the wild. She realizes translation is a powerful weapon and wants it wielded fairly. For instance, one thing she’s expressed to me is that the Japanese ship fandoms are usually careful to preface “this is one way you can read this”, but when those thoughts come over to tumblr it becomes “this is the only way to read this.” I think that bothers Tsuki both because it’s unfair to the language she loves and to those who don’t speak it. And argh... let me just toss heart eyes all over tsuki. I really appreciate what she does. Helpful fandom translators are a gift. I appreciate that she’s open to eruri and levihan. I respect that she enjoys both ships and can see both sides. She’s not the enemy here. She’s helped me be more balanced and fair.

But otherwise this is such a good ask and I agree with much of what you're saying. I want to be clear that I don’t see it as my job to convince people. I'm not writing for that reason. I'm offering a viewpoint, so I'm not pressed or bothered by the existence of other viewpoints. I'm happy they exist because thinking about things from various angles has benefitted me and is a great way to consume media.

I make it clear on my about page that I write my opinions and not the canon thoughts of Hajime Isayama. My blog description plainly states my shipping bias. With me you can say the ingredients are clearly on the tin. I don’t try to hide that. There's not a lot that ruffles my feathers in fandom but I will say that when I happen upon "unbiased" meta writers I do sigh deeply. We all have biases and like it or not it’s obvious to anyone reading.

I will say at this point though in the manga there are topics where I'm done looking at all the angles. I've followed the snk meta community for 7 years. I've been open minded. I've read everything there is to read and spent my time examining my ideas to see how they hold up. I've changed my mind on plenty of topics because of this. My shipping preference being one of those actually. My words probably have a level of confidence that they didn't in my early meta writing days. So yeah, there are topics where I think I am 100% right, but the important point is I don’t call anyone else 100% wrong. I don’t take potshots at other shipping communities.

I think the main thing I’d push back on from your ask is that I’d say the way people define serum bowl is less about how you view Eruri and more how you view Erwin himself. At least that's what I've seen. Erwin’s negative qualities are a starting point for many. In sports terms I’d say it’s like some people automatically handicap him at -20 and he has to pull out from there. Part of that may be the anime’s harsher portrayal. I’ve heard some say his trope is one they don’t like. Others admit to an inherent bias against strong male authority figures. As you say, we all see things differently. We all bring baggage and bias into what we read. Cultural bias is there as well. Some themes go down better with certain audiences. Erwin being viewed as a cold emotionless leader who wrongly hid his motivations is a largely Western read. Some of Tsuki’s writings have touched on this. I’ll link to a few if you want to read more: cultural consideration about Erwin in general, chapter 72 from a cultural lens and a Japanese article on Erwin’s charms.

Regarding your last sentence, I don’t know what you want me to accept here. As I said initially, I’m not interested in convincing anyone. I don’t think anyone is stupid for thinking differently. I’m writing for me. I’m writing for anyone who wants to read my thoughts. The anons I get have asked for my opinion so I share that with them. I’m sorry if this frustrates you.

One thing I’ve been told is unique to the AoT community is the prevalence of meta writers and the authority they wield. Basically the criticism is that meta writers are the BNFs and not the artists and fic writers. I haven’t been in many communities so I can’t say if that’s true, but the idea has always bothered me. My meta is opinion and bias spoken in a (hopefully) coherent and entertaining way. It’s to be read, weighed and then discarded as a reader forms their own opinions. If I haven’t made that clear enough, I am now.

Thanks for the ask and the discussion it opened up.

#chatting with friends #meta writers #sorry this is so long #just wow that was a lot #tsuki I hope you're ok with my thoughts regarding you #it's how I see you #meta writer discussion #fandom things

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annethepancake · 3 years ago

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Sherlock rant

I recently rewatched BBC Sherlock for Rupert Graves, and aside from the lack of Lestrade appreciation I have a lot of problems with this series. Here are my thoughts:

1. It was all a blur

My second first impression of the show: I don't remember anything but the characters. And some characters I just blatantly forgot, like Mary. And I loved Mary on my second watch! I really forgot that at one point John actually got married and I don't even remember when I watched the show for the first time. I can still recall most of HIMYM's events and I hated that series.

2. It’s overall not a detective/crime show

Watching Sherlock for the second time, I mostly turned off my brain and just let it play in the background because (1) there's hardly anything for me to solve with the characters, most clues are taken by Sherlock off-screen anyway (especially after season 2), (2) they focus way too much on the quirks of the characters that make it almost like a sitcom that got dragged on for way too long. A crime/detective show shouldn't allow me to turn off my brain.

3. The characters just kinda fall flat

Exploring the depth of human emotions is not a bad approach to a modernized version of anything, I’m not trying to pretend I’m better than someone who gets sentimental over fictional character (if you know my blog at all, you know I am not), but at least write good characters. Sherlock is hardly a multi-faceted person; in fact, he’s kinda like the Wattpad teen fic main character sometimes. He physically fights off some terrorists with a machete to save the damsel in distress? He gets high off his tits but still got everything right all the time? John is just kinda there for most of the cases. Jim is a poorly written antagonist. Irene is a lesbian but gets the hot for our main character, surprise surprise. The only interesting characters to me are the ones who act like normal people: Molly, Greg and Mary. They are the multi-faceted characters, ones who I can actually relate to without feeling inferior to them in any way. Write characters like them, stop trying to be smart about it and stop writing Wattpad fanfictions for Sir Conan Doyle’s original works.

I get that they try to make Sherlock more like a human with emotions, making him quirky and arrogant, then make him quirky and more likable. It’s hardly a convincing character development though. He’s given over-powered deduction skills, so edgy, so high and mighty all the time. When he is finally written as vulnerable, turns out he has plans for that too. I would love to see him get it wrong once and maybe get humbled by that mistake, but getting Mary shot and killed is hardly even his fault, he is only doing his job. And killing off Mary is overall a bad idea anyway.

4. They treated the fandom like shit

I was absolutely disgusted at the start of season 3 when the showrunners just straight up shat on their fans. I wasn't there with the fandom during the wait between season 2 and 3, but I believe it was a pretty long wait (2 years, I could barely wait 2 years for my comfort series, and they have like 10 episodes per season), and they were presented with the first actual mystery of the series: How did Sherlock survive the fall? After years of waiting and having fun theorizing, they were met with a mockumentary about them, starring the most hated character of the protagonist and the fans. Those are the people who actually cared about the show for god's sake. The fact that the showrunners treated fans like crap and there's still an active fandom for the show appalled me.

Now not only The Empty Hearse bugs me, but the entire show does as well.

Allow me to digress.

Doki Doki Literature Club is a great example of audience engagement done right (Sorry for using this example I’m not actually that invested in the other franchises). After the success of the first game, the story provoked so many fans into solving the mysteries of the characters, some of them went really, really far. And that’s because of the actual mysteries that the development team took effort to plant into the plot. There is actual pay-off for painstakingly following the clues; as far as I know, only two (2!) people in the world have come close to solving the mystery of the first game (or they actually did). The game developers value their fans and their intelligence enough to have planted those clues where they did, and it’s a genuine exchange between the fans and the creators. Now even though you haven’t actually played the game, when you hear of the name and you’re only kinda familiar with gaming (like me), you’ll probably know what it is. What started as a mere open-source game by an indie developer became a sensation which left millions of fans begging for more.

Looking back at Sherlock, there are tons of logical flaws for a self-proclaimed crime series, virtually no clues for the audience to solve crimes along with their favorite detective, and when there was actually a mystery (Sherlock jumped off the building), they plainly showed him alive and well minutes later. Do we really need to see things spelled on screen to know what’s going on? Are we supposed to accept that Sherlock Holmes is an all-knowing future-predicting genius now too? Not a great sign of respecting the audience there.

So far, the only thing left that’s interesting about this series is the characters’ dynamic. Which brings me to the next criticism I have for the show.

5. The plague that infested mainstream media

Why is there still an active fandom? Queerbaiting and targeted marketing.

Community marketing is proven to be one of the best marketing methods there is, if not the best, to lengthen the lifespan of a product or service. The way they do that for shows and films and video games is usually by planting seeds of possible lores and history inside the content. Look at Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, they are franchises that ran for multiple years with a ton of history and world building that provokes fans’ imagination.

Sherlock - well, Sherlock has sexually ambiguous men.

Sherlock has a formula for success. It was an adaptation of the most iconic detective novel in the world, funded by one of the biggest TV networks in the UK and possibly the world (don’t quote me on this). Making this series means you can appeal to such a wide group of audience even before airing. Adding in the quirky smart men who live together, you’ve basically guaranteed a prime-time show with millions of loyal fans all over the world.

Fans are not stupid, and queer people don't just find queerness everywhere they go. They know a gay subtext when they see one. Sherlock came back from the literal death for John, pretty gay if you ask me.

This show is very much not just about some guys being dudes solving crimes, they have relationship that’s deeper than friendship, and definitely not platonic. They deliberately wrote a sexually ambiguous Sherlock Holmes from the get-go - literally from the very first episode, then capitalized off of the targeted demographic, never a pay-off for their anticipation. Martin Freeman said in interviews that he could recognize Sherlock fans, them being generally women from 16 - 25. No shit Sherlock, this show targets them and capitalizes off of them, being quirky and gay as hell, of course the fanbase is generally 16 - 25 and female.

Sherlock queerbaited the fandom for years for the sake of marketing and there’s never a pay-off, nor was there any recognition to the community, and to add to all that bigotry, queercoding pretty much all of the villains? Why was a show aired in the 2010′s allowed to do this? Why did Mark Gatiss, an openly gay man, a writer of the show, allow this to happen? Why are millions of fans all over the world allowing all this to go on?!

6. Conclusion

Now I haven’t read the books yet, so I’m not at all qualified to criticize the adaptation quality of the TV series; I’m just talking about the TV series on its own. Despite my criticism, I think the first two seasons did quite okay. There are quite a few nice cases there, I like The Blind Banker and The Hound of Baskerville. They did those well because the focus was on the cases themselves, and the connection between John and Sherlock was only in the background. I, like many other fans, like to figure things out on my own, to read between the lines, and to not have things spelled out for me. With the next seasons bombarded with Sherlock and John bonding it seriously felt like mere fan service for me and even though I wasn’t there when the show was on, I still felt like I was robbed and my interest in the show was abused.

Sherlock is undoubtedly super influential in pop culture even now. It has to have done something right to be in that spot (capitalizing off loyal fans?). I’m not writing this rant to change someone’s mind about the series, by all means, I’m still gonna love the hell out of Gavin Lestrade, and absolutely lose my mind over Mary Watson. So do take my words with a grain of salt, I’m just disappointed that one of the most influential shows there is is just short of my expectations.

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #rant #criticism

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dreamii-yume · 5 years ago

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Hi! I'm loving your fics. Could we get some malleus x reader please? Maybe some breeding and size kink?

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Malleus had already decided that Darling is the woman that he wanted to spend his whole entire life with. Huh? What do you mean that Darling has to go back home? That she’s not from this world? That she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings? Now, don’t be like that~! Don’t you think it’s lovely~? A life with one of the strongest magician in this twisted world would surely be a lot better than your previous one!

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

You sat on a lone bench in the peaceful land outside the Ramshackle Dorm, the gentle howl of the nightly breeze blowing on your hair so elegantly. Green fireflies decorated where you sat, their beautiful light was enough to illuminate what the old lamp post couldn’t. Before you were a tall young fae with pointed ears and a pair of menacing horns on his head. You almost strained your neck from looking up just to have an eye contact with him. His very appearance and size was intimidating, yet the rare gentle smile on his face holds a complete contrast to it all.

The moon was beautiful tonight, bearing witness to how your eyes had slowly widened at the information you have received from the horned fellow. “...Eh?” You blinked repeatedly, your ears somewhat refusing to acknowledge the meaning behind his words. “...Sorry, could you repeat what you just said?”

“I love you.” The fae patiently repeated his confession for you, word by word. His tone felt so practiced, like he had been waiting his whole life just to say it. “I want to spend my whole life with you and create a happy little family between us.”

Your mouth fell agape as you looked down, and to the side, before eventually going back to him. You fiddled with your sleepwear of a clothing, finding the right words to say. “...W-Wow...This is...This is a lot to take in, I...” You stuttered out as your cheeks burns in the shade of a bashful pink. “...Tsunotarou, I-I don’t know what to say really...”

‘Tsunotarou’ merely chuckled at your reaction, watching you chew on your bottom lip. A habit that he noticed you do whenever you’re nervous or in the midst of indecisiveness. He reached out and pat you on the head, stroking your hair in a comforting manner. “Don’t stress yourself too much, my little human. I can put our differences aside and love you for who you are from now on and forever.” He said, his eyes gazing at you lovingly. You felt the side of your mouth twitched upward, creating a small smile at how sweet his words were.

“...In return, I want you to be my wife and create a family with me. To spend our eternity caring for our young.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said, something that slowly wiped your smile away. You looked down once again, a sullen expression had replaced itself on your face. Of course, the horned fae had already spent too much time with you to notice the slightest bit of change in your mood, this was no exception. “...Why the long face, little one?”

You took a deep breath. “I-I’m flattered, Tsunotarou. Really, I am.” You said, smiling up at him. “You were the very first to confess to me like this. It’s very sweet and I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“But...I’m sorry. I can’t accept your confession.” You gave him a serious look on your face. A single drop of sweat ran down the side of your head but you kept up your mask. It took a while for ‘Tsunotarou’ to give you some sort of reaction and even then, the most that you got was a slight flinch of the hand that was on top of your head. He no longer has a smile in his face, going back to his usual, stoic expression as he retracted his hand away from you.

“Explain.” He requested, but sounded more of a demand rather than an optional choice. You flinched at how stern his voice had suddenly turned, no trace of his sweet demeanor had remained.

“Were you...Were you in the entrance ceremony at the first day?” You asked him. “If you were there then, everything must’ve make sense to you by now.”

“I was not invited. I tend to never get invited into occasions such as that.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said, bitterly as he crossed his arms. You nodded, somehow you couldn’t help but feel really bad for the tall fae. “...What does that have to do with your rejection?”

“Then you must’ve at least known by now that I don’t have the tiniest shred of magic in me, right?” You said, trying to go slow for him so he could understand you properly. “The only reason I’m a student here in the first place is because I have Grimm with me.”

“...I do.” He said. “If this is the reason why you’re rejecting me, then know that I have no problems with having a child that has no affinity for magic. We can always-“

You quickly hold out your hand in front of you, frantically shaking your head, stopping him the moment he mentioned anything about having children. Your face flushed red, he was looking way into the future. “No, no, no...! That’s not the reason at all!” You protested. “It’s because I’m not from here, Tsunotarou!”

Now this caught ‘Tsunotarou’ off-guard, not expecting such reason to come out of your mouth. But then, with that sentence alone, he had already formulated a lot of solutions in his mind that could excuse such reason. “Not from here? You meant from Twisted Wonderland?” He said, raising his eyebrow. “Then, which part of the world did you come from? Surely, we can do something about your lineage.”

“...That’s the thing. I’m not from this world, Tsunotarou.” Your head held down, but your eyes glanced up at him with gloomy gaze. “I don’t have magic because I came from a different world. A world far different from Twisted Wonderland.”

“And I’m trying to go back.” You finished, finally stating your point. “Therefore, I can’t accept your confession. Because if I were come back to my own world, long-lasting romantic relationship with anyone in Twisted Wonderland is just pointless.”

You settled down, breathing out as ‘Tsunotarou’ in front of you stares with calculating eyes. He was always the difficult one to read, it was either he has great control over his emotions or he simply just doesn’t know how to react. Either way, you prayed in your mind that he wouldn’t become as unreasonable as you dreaded. Finally, he made a reaction, blinking as he straightened his poise. “...Is that it?” He spoke. “Is that your only reason why you’re rejecting me?”

You nodded with an audible “Yes”. Well, you were actually telling him about the other side of the spectrum, there was also the reason of you just not seeing him the same way as he sees you. What you feel for him was merely platonic as there weren’t enough time for you to gain actual romantic feelings for him. He was just a friend that you see every once in a while, after all, an acquaintance you happened to meet when the moon was out on its best. But you chose not to tell him that other reason as it would only add more salt to his wound. For now, you can give him the more logical reason, something anyone could understand.

Your horned friend closed his eyes before breathing out, he crosses his arms. “Then, just don’t.”

Now, it was your turn to be caught off guard. You blinked, repeatedly. “...Excuse me?” You asked, wanting to have a bit more content.

“Coming back to your own world is a choice, not an obligation. You don’t have to go back.” ‘Tsunotarou’ said in a straightforward manner, as if your problem was actually that easy to pull off. “If you were transported in this world then, wouldn’t that mean that there’s actually something you have to do in this world? Or the fact that this world might’ve actually been the world that you were supposed to belong to in the first place?”

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. All you have to do is stay and not worry about going home.” ‘Tsunotarou’ steps closer to your sitting figure. His tall and large figure quietly looms above you, causing a single nervous strand of sweat to drip from your forehead. His shadow alone was intimidating and his striking green eyes never dares to leave you, as if it was burning a hole into your soul. “We can be together without any worries if you could just forget about your previous life and start a new one.”

“Doesn’t that sound even more appealing?”

You stared at him wide-eyed, filled with bewilderment as you don’t even know how you were going to retort that. There was so many flaws and holes in that reasoning that you would like to point out, but just can’t find a proper way to start. In the end, you gave him a nervous laugh, trying to lighten up the atmosphere before eventually dropping the bomb on him. “Uh...T-That’s...That’s not...That’s not how it works, Tsunotarou.” You stuttered, your mind in shambles on how the hell you were going to explain this to the usually aloof and dense fae. “You’re essentially telling me to forget about my friends and family back in my world. You know I can’t do that!”

“They’re...They’re important to me. There’s no way I could...forget about them just like that!” You said. “I didn’t even get the chance to properly say goodbye before getting transported into this world! They’re probably looking for me right now!”

In the midst of your desperate attempt to knock some sense into powerful yet dense magician, you failed to notice how his eyes narrowed down for a mere second. A rare sign of irritation spiking up in his features. “...And you think they’re still looking for you after all this time?” ‘Tsunotarou’ coldly states. “You arrived at this world during the entrance ceremony, correct? It’s been quite a while since that happened. Have you ever considered that they might’ve just given up on you by now?”

Now that was uncalled for, just absolutely unnecessary to say. You scrunched up your eyebrows together as you couldn’t help but be hurt at how insensitive his words suddenly became. What was his problem? He’s making it sound like no one cared for you in your own world. That you’re someone who your friends and family wouldn’t mind losing, a mere waste of space.

But still, you breathe out an exasperated sigh, bottling up your true emotion as you decided to become the mature one in this argument. You looked up with him with an assertive look in your eye, silently telling ‘Tsunotarou’ to not pressure you with nonsensical reasoning any longer. “...Look, I know you’re making it sound that easy but Tsunotarou...It’s really not.” You said, calming yourself down before standing up. “I don’t want this to become a big deal. You’re a friend, after all and I don’t like fighting with my friends for something so trivial.”

You dusted off invisible dust in your clothes and gave him your usual smile. “I’m ending this conversation, alright? This is for the sake of both you and I.” You said as your friend merely stared at you. “...Maybe you don’t understand right now. So, I’ll give you some time to do so. You weren’t in the ceremony as a witness, after all.”

“I’ll go back in my dorm now, Grimm probably fell of the bed again.” You giggled at the image in your head as you looked back at him with a gentle smile. You didn’t even know how that smile was the exact reason why your ‘Tsunotarou’ fell for you this hard. The exact reason why you didn’t notice how his eyes darken at your figure, his fist slowly clenching tight. “Goodnight, Tsunotarou...I...appreciate your feelings...”

Your voice suddenly slurred, an overwhelming feeling of wanting to sleep had suddenly wrapped itself around your very being. You suddenly felt like your balance was being stripped away from you, causing you to stumble a bit. “...B-but...I hope we can still...be friends...?” You ended up finishing your sentence with a question. It was unintentional and you didn’t know why. You looked up at ‘Tsunotarou’ who didn’t seem to be too bothered at your current behavior.

Your sight was beginning to blur, the horned fae in front of you was barely visible. Had his eyes always been glowing like that? There were dark spots in the corner of your eyes and your eyelids felt really heavy all of a sudden. “...Huh?” Came in your final word.

Finally, your eyes fall into a close as your body collapsed but luckily, ‘Tsunotarou’ was already there, ready to catch you. He ceased the green light emitting from both his eyes and his magical pen once he was sure you were deep in a slumber. He felt your body moving in synch with your breathing, his magic had done its job well this time again. Even in secrecy.

‘Tsunotarou’ carried your body in a bridal style manner, embracing your warmth against his chest.

“...No, my little human. You are the one who doesn’t understand.”

With that, the green fireflies that made the place brim with beauty disappeared as if they weren’t even there in the first place. Along with the all-mighty fae, lovingly caressing a fair, human being in his arms.

The moon was indeed very beautiful tonight. Illuminating upon the sacred place where love had reached a new level of commitment.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

WELP I currently have a lot of pending request! I’m gonna be closing off the request box for now, okay~?

#yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia #diasomnia #sinfic #spicy dream #yandere

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sankyeom · 3 years ago

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Hello! Hope you are doing well! I have decided to write in Tumblr. Can you please give me some tips?

hi dear!! welcome to tumblr 👋

sorry this took a while, i wanted to save this until i had the time to give a proper response. here are some writing tips that work for me personally, and that are specific to tumblr:

use your tags wisely

this may be the most important thing to know if you’re new to tumblr

my personal experience says you have a maximum of about 15 tags before tumblr marks your posts as spam if it has pictures in it, and 20 tags if it’s just text.

don’t throw in 50 irrelevant tags to your writing. it’s tempting, but it will probably make tumblr think you’re a bot/spam account and will hide it from the tags. plus, it often means your writing isn’t reaching your target audience. even if you are writing for kpop, using #kpop imagines or #kpop fanfiction is probably too broad of a tag, and you should focus more on the group/people you write about. so maybe try #the boyz imagines or #the boyz fake texts instead of #kpop imagines.

find mutuals/blogs whose work you like

i say this almost every time someone asks me for advice but it’s so important! make some friends who like to write! it helps you to be motivated to write as well, and you can find writing that inspires and excites you. plus, figuring out what you like to read can sometimes help you figure out what you want to write.

and if it doesn’t inspire you (which i doubt), then at least you’ll have mutuals/friends who will make you feel more connected to the writing community here on tumblr. i’ll be your first mutual if you’d like! 💗

get really familiar with the format of tumblr

this is important so that you can make your writing stand out, like i’m going to discuss in the next point. understand what you need to do to add pictures to your posts, make text bigger/bolder/smaller/colourful, add paragraph breaks, tag other accounts, and anything else you might need.

make your stories stand out

make your titles interesting and eye-catching! use pretty banners or pictures to showcase the vibe of your story! make a collage, gif or visually appealing edit!

even though, as a writer i understand that visuals don’t depict how good or well-written a story is, it definitely catches my eye as a reader and determines whether i give something a read or not while scrolling through the endless amount of writing here on tumblr

so make it stand out visually and do something that captures people’s attention so that it doesn’t get lost in a sea of posts

join writing networks

i personally am not in any writing networks, but they exist for almost any fandom here on tumblr! especially for kpop, there are sometimes multiple networks for each group. a network is essentially a few admins who go through the tags of the group they are a network for and promote the members’ writing! some networks, like deobiwritersnet are so lovely and promote writers who aren’t in their network as well.

i think this would be a great way to get more exposure, and it could help with making mutuals since networks often have discord or other groups to chat with members

(edit: I have joined several writing networks since posting this and they are an absolute treasure!!! they support writers and boost our writing, you really can’t lose by joining)

write at your own pace

don’t make a writing schedule you can’t keep to if it means your writing suffers. i used to try to post fics on a schedule and it made my writing rushed and sloppy. stick to your own schedule, or don’t make a schedule at all! either way, don’t feel pressured to put out a lot of content because other people work faster or post more often than you

only post things that you're happy with

it’s not worth it to post something you don’t really like and then spend a lot of time thinking about how you don’t like it but it’s already up so you can’t change anything, or posting things you don’t think represent your skills/abilities just to have content. this kind of goes back to the previous point, but don’t be swayed by what other people are doing! if something takes a year before you think it’s ready to post, then take a year to post it! that way, you’ll be happy with it and proud when you post it

i hope any of this helped you! let me know if you need anything else x

#💌 : open me!#shrutiajit #belle’s babbles #advice #writing tips #tumblr tips

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 4 years ago

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words fall flat (like cymbals crashing)

A/N: apparently the only fic I have motivation to write anymore is for the Mandalorian. anyway, have this INCREDIBLY self-indulgent fic with aroace din djarin, aro cara dune, and a heaping helping of hurt/comfort and mandalorian culture. enjoy! (title is from Constellations by The Oh Hellos)

Summary: Cara checks up on Din after the events on Moff Gideon's Imperial cruiser. Problem is, neither are them are very good at talking about emotions- but Cara figures out how to comfort Din in their own way.

Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, awkward conversations, sort-of coming out, platonic cuddling, hugs, implied crying, bittersweet/hopeful ending

Din was distant after the jedi- Luke kriffing Skywalker- had taken Grogu and then their little haphazardly put together rescue crew got back on Fett’s ship. Not that Din was all that reachable of a person to begin with, Cara noted. But now he was even more withdrawn, and he seemed almost fragile despite all the armor he wore. Cara was sure she’d never forget watching the way Din’s hands trembled as he put his helmet back on- kriff, he had shown his face. Cara didn’t actually see his face, just the back of a surprisingly curly head of hair (out of everything, she never pictured her stoic friend with curly hair). So on top of losing his kid and unwittingly earning the right to Mandalore’s throne, he had broken his code as well. Surely he was not as put together as his gruff, standoffish behavior implied.

Hence why Cara was more or less lurking in the shadows near where Din was sulking in the storage unit aboard the Slave I. Fett had advised to “let him alone, Marshal,” in that rough and indifferent-but-really-he-was-fooling-nobody tone of his. But Cara felt that the last thing that Din needed was more space from people he cared about, so she stepped out of the shadows and closer to where Din was sitting on top of a storage container. At first glance, she thought he was cleaning his weapons, but as she came closer she noticed he was fiddling with a small silver ball- the same one that Grogu had been so attached to. Then, strangely enough, he pressed the ball to his helmet, just above its visor and where his forehead would be beneath it. Cara suddenly felt like she was intruding, and from the way Din jolted and scrambled to put the ball in a pouch at his side, she definitely felt like an intruder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” she started, but was cut off with a wave of Din’s hand.

“It’s fine. I’m- I’m glad it was you,” Din replied, sounding uncharacteristically shy. Cara smiled softly, walking closer and taking a seat next to him on the storage container.

“I just wanted to check in on you, after… everything,” Cara finished lamely. Din huffed out a breath that could have been a laugh, a sigh, a sob, or some mix of the three.

“Thank you. I- I’m- he’ll be safe. With the jedi,” Din said, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself than Cara. A chuckle escaped Cara’s lips, despite everything.

“Trust me, there is nowhere safer than with Luke Skywalker for Grogu. I never knew him personally, but the guy’s a rebel hero. It was his shot that destroyed the first Death Star, and he had a hand in overthrowing the Emperor and destroying the second Death Star. Plus I think his sister has a seat in the New Republic Senate now. The point is that he’s powerful, and that he has powerful allies. Grogu will be okay,” Cara assured him. Din let out another breath, and this time it was definitely a sigh.

“Thank you. That… that helps,” Din replied, sounding much more at ease than when Cara had first checked in on him.

“I’m glad,” Cara said, affectionately clapping him on his knee- and startled a bit when Din jumped at the touch.

“Sorry-��

“Don’t be, I guess I forgot that Mandalorians aren’t exactly touchy-feely people,” she interrupted him, giving him a soothing smile.

“And I am certainly no exception,” Din muttered under his breath, but as Cara was sitting so close to him, she heard it anyhow.

“What do you mean?” Cara asked, brow furrowed in confusion. Din swallowed nervously and seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, which would have been comical if every fiber of his being didn’t seem to be etched with embarrassment.

“I’ve… never really desired any sort of closeness. As teenagers, my fellow foundlings seemed to be interested in finding someone to be close with, but those sorts of desires never really occurred to me,” Din explained awkwardly.

“What sort of desires?” Cara asked with a raised eyebrow, somewhat understanding what he was getting at, but she wanted to be absolutely sure. Din fidgeted for a moment or two before making an irritated sound.

“I’ve never wanted any sort of intimacy or romance. Not even with Omera. Sure, the idea of having someone to come home to and start a family with sounds nice, but…” Din trailed off, sounding just as lost as when he had taken off his helmet to say goodbye to Grogu.

“But in reality it feels wrong,” Cara finished, understanding where he was coming from, at least a little bit. Sure, there were… ahem, other desires that were appealing to her, but romance? Definitely not her thing. Din’s head shot up at Cara’s words, struggling to form words of his own for a moment or two.

“You- yeah, that’s it,” he said, dumbfounded.

“I get how you feel- at least on the romance part. Although, uh, intimacy, as you put it... that I’m more down with. And I’m definitely more of a casually affectionate person than you,” Cara replied, cringing internally at her choice of words. This wasn’t something she really talked about a lot, and it felt like everything was coming out all jagged and lopsided. But fortunately, Din seemed just as out of his comfort zone as she was, and therefore didn’t mind.

“I mean, I don’t mind affection. It just surprises me, is all,” Din said sheepishly. Cara slowly reached out, gently grasping Din’s hand when he didn’t move to stop her. She gently rubbed her thumb in soothing circles on the back of Din’s hand, and he all but melted at the touch. Kriff, if this is how he reacted to some hand-holding, he’d probably implode if she ever tried to hug him.

“When’s the last time you’ve gotten a hug?” Cara blurted, startling Din out of his calm reverie.

“I… I mean, I would hug Grogu sometimes, but his arms are a little small to really hug back. He could always return a kov'nyn just fine though,” Din said fondly.

“Cove-what?” Cara asked, head tilted to the side in confusion.

“Kov’nyn. Sometimes it’s called a keldabe kiss. I had learned it from my Buir- the Mandalorian who found me and took me in. It can be a violent action, but I’ve mostly known it as an affectionate one. It… might be easier to show than to explain,” Din replied, seeming nervous again.

“Then go ahead and show me. If you want,” she said, hurriedly assuring him that she didn’t want to force him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Din took a deep breath, then reached out with his free hand and rested it on the nape of her neck, fingers gently tangling in her hair. He carefully pulled her forward until her forehead was resting against his. The moment her skin touched the cool beskar of his helmet, it felt like something had snapped into place- and dimly she realized this had been the same thing Din had done with Grogu’s silver ball.

“This is a keldabe kiss. It’s a form of greeting between Mandalorians and their loved ones,” Din said, shifting as if he was going to move away, but Cara grabbed his forearm with her free hand and halted his movements. Din let out a soft, almost broken sound, and Cara moved on pure instinct. She shifted closer and threw both arms around Din’s shoulders, now practically in his lap and forehead still learning against his helmet. Din responded in kind, one hand still firmly buried in the hair at the base of her neck, while his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her entirely in his lap. He let out a shaky sigh that could have been a shallow sob, but Cara didn’t comment on it. If Din needed to be held as he cried, Cara was more than willing to do so for him.

The Marshal and the newfound Mand’alor had been absent from the cockpit for far too long, in Fett’s opinion. So he entrusted the controls to Fennec, and made his way to the storage unit that the Mand’alor had been hiding away in. The sight that greeted him, however, was one that he never would have predicted. The Mand’alor, looking incredibly vulnerable for a man in pure beskar armor, had the Marshal in his lap, holding her close as he leaned his helmet against her forehead in a keldabe kiss. Fett smiled in spite of himself. Whatever happened, whether Princess ended up with the Darksaber or not, Fett was glad that the current Mand’alor had someone he could rely on.

post-fic notes: this whole fic was an excuse to write aroace din, keldabe kisses, and platonic cuddling between a man and a woman. the aro cara just sorta snuck up on me, as well as boba fett being a caring and concerned pal. oh also i personally hc fett as being the type of person to not call people by their first name unless he has a strong bond with them (you can read his relationship with fennec here however you'd like, although i like them as just buddies). i also hc his reaction to din getting the darksaber as "oh you're the king now, cool"

anyway thanks for reading, also pls reblog cause validation is my lifeblood

#the mandalorian #din djarin #cara dune #grogu #luke skywalker #boba fett #fennec shand #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #sage writes

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embyrinitalics · 4 years ago

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Calamiversary: Link’s POV I

So keep in mind when I wrote these scenes that Calamitous was still written in third, so flipping to first felt super edgy. 😂 I did read recently that using first with very flawed/troubled characters is more interesting, and I think that’s evident in these. Like, it’s way more interesting than listening to Zelda in the main fic lol.

Also, I wrote these before all the big revisions, so the scenes probably won’t line up in the dialogue the way they used to. STILL, these exercises helped me get to know Link better as a character, and hopefully you’ll get a kick out of them too (in all their unedited glory 🤦🏻‍♀️)!

There’s a lot of these scenes so I’m breaking it up into two posts. Below the cut is about 1.9k words worth. OK BAI.

Awakening

I breathe deep of familiar air as I reform from the smoke and light pouring out of the fissure. It’s cold and sweet, carried down into the valley from distant plateaus. My blood pounds hotter at the recognition of it, and I steel myself to ignore the allure it holds. I know death will be my only release now.

My heightened senses register four incoming attacks with a thrill, and I regain my focus, choking out the desire to crush them with my bare hands. I rebuff their assaults one at a time, reining my power with some effort. Part of me revels in how easily I cast them aside, how breakable they are—the part of me that I must never feed, but that’s too dangerous to ignore entirely.

Then I see her: power ebbing off her in waves, her body emitting pulses of brilliant light. I want to bask in the splendor of her, so different and yet so familiar. I crush that longing, letting the monster in me react in case I’m not strong enough to do it alone. In an instant I’m facing her, holding her at bay with a power she was never meant to overcome. I can taste her fear as she registers my resistance, heady and intoxicating.

I reach for the source of her light and smother it.

Applean Woods

I take her to Applean, knowing the others won’t be able to follow for some time, and wait for her to regain her strength. She’s spattered in firelight, her expression placid, and she looks so much like the Zelda I knew—too much like her. I know she isn’t the same woman, but I feel the same draw, the same devotion to her. I know I have to protect her no matter the cost to myself. It almost makes the thought of what’s coming bearable.

I stroke her cheek without thinking, and she surges to life, sending power and light flailing in all directions. The monster in me roars in response, so powerfully I nearly falter. I force myself to tame it first, afraid of what I might do to her if I don’t. She’s strong, but she’s also scared and disoriented. Overpowering her isn’t difficult.

“Don’t do that again,” I growl after I have her pinned to my chest. I can feel her pulse, rapid and bright, rushing beneath her skin, appealing to my two halves for two different reasons. I deny us both, dropping her to her hands and knees and moving to reignite the fire she put out.

“What do you want with me?” she demands, and she reminds me again of a woman who’s been dead for 10,000 years. “I won’t cooperate.”

Definitely too much like her.

“I’ll accomplish what I set out to do alone, if I must,” I insist, but I know the odds of plunging the Sword into my own chest and managing to contain and outlive the Calamity on my own are marginal at best. “Though it would be easier with a second set of hands.”

She’s confused, of course. She obviously has no idea what I am. In a way, that makes it easier; in a way, that makes it harder.

“I don’t—”

“Is the Sword in the Great Hyrule Forest?” I interrupt, suddenly in a hurry to get this over with.

“What?”

“The Sword,” I repeat, trying not to think of everything finding it will mean for me. “The Blade of Evil’s Bane. Does it still rest in the Lost Woods?”

“You wish to destroy it,” she accuses me quietly. Silly girl.

“I don’t know that such a thing is even possible,” I wonder aloud, intrigued by the idea. But that’s beside the point. It has to be in the Woods, because the hero’s spirit could hardly be reborn if it’s still alive in me. “It has no wielder.”

“No. You didn’t leave us a choice.”

I smirk in spite of myself. She’s right about that, more than she knows. “I suppose not.”

“You still haven’t answered me. I demand to know why you’ve brought me here.”

So, so much like her.

“You’re hardly in a position to be making demands, Your Highness,” I point out, and her cheeks flush a bit, betraying that streak of temper I know too well. I leave my seat by the fire and crouch near her, appealing to her love of her kingdom. It’s stronger in her than her love for anything else, as I am painfully aware. “If you do as I say, you will destroy me. With any luck, the pall of the Calamity will never fall over Hyrule again. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She considers my proposal fleetingly, and even though I know the reply is coming, that it’s deserved, that it’s better this way, it still hurts to hear it out loud. “I can’t trust you.”

“I’m not asking for your trust,” I scoff. How could I ever ask for her trust, when I don’t trust myself? When a single lapse on her part or mine could cost us everything, including her own life? No. Trust is out of the question. “Only your obedience.”

That accursed stubbornness of hers rears its pretty little head, her lip turning down just a bit. “If I don’t trust you—”

I can’t allow her to even suggest that I can earn it, for either of our sakes. I reach out, brushing her soft lips, the smooth line of her jaw, the swell of her cheekbone, knowing what my touch, harboring the evil of the Calamity, must be doing to her. I’ve felt it myself once, countless lifetimes ago, as the Calamity entered my body. I know I feel like that now, because she feels so unnaturally warm on my sensitive fingertips, so full of life and light it nearly burns.

“Does this feel like the touch of someone you can trust?” I ask rhetorically, and I feel her tremble under my hands. “That icy, numbing sensation of evil, trapped in this skin, grating on your nerves and pulling the warmth from your body and putting knots in your stomach, that urge to recoil that you can’t quite obey—that is the warning from the gods.” I can taste her fear growing, tantalizing and seductive, as I sweep the pad of my thumb along her full bottom lip, and I know I’m doing the right thing. She needs to fear me, as I fear myself. “You cannot trust me.”

The Lost Woods

I could feel the mist, uninhibited, stroking the skin at the nape of my neck, and I bristled. The hallucinations would be quick on its heels. She had already been feeling the effects; a small gasp or a sudden change in her pace betrayed the way the woods were starting to torment her. But it was going to get much worse, and there was nothing I could do to protect either of us.

I’d already seen her—a ghost of who she once was, untouchable, ethereal, drifting through the trees like a specter. She’d been alight in moonglow, wraithlike, hauntingly graceful. But not now. Now she was fleshly, a healthy flush of color in her cheeks, looking so real. So vulnerable. Her eyes met mine, and I saw the recognition in them. Then they widened with fear, and she was pulled away into a distant darkness before she could make a sound.

I closed my eyes, trying to still my galloping heart. I turned slowly to check on Zelda—the real Zelda, the one who was alive right now—but the mist had separated us, and I cursed under my breath.

I heard a scream, and I closed my eyes again reflexively, fear coiling in my throat. I swallowed, trying to wet it. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to look, to be plagued by whatever vision the woods had in store for me. I wanted to pray, I wanted to ask the Goddesses to spare me this. But they wouldn’t listen to a prayer from the Calamity.

I couldn’t just stand there with my eyes closed and hope that Zelda would stumble across me. She would lose herself here without me to guide her. So I opened my eyes.

Another scream tore out of her, and I recoiled from the grisly scene, blood and adrenaline pounding through me. The worst part was the way the monster in me reacted—that submerged, suppressed part of me that was enticed by it, that wanted to look closer. That smiled.

It was me. I was crouched over her, animalistic, tearing at the gaping wound I’d opened across her torso with my teeth, too numerous and sharpened to a hundred razor-sharp points.

I was eating her alive.

She screamed again as I ripped into her, her body lurching as I wrenched at the cavity. And she just wouldn’t die. Her clothes were drenched in so much crimson and torn to shreds, and her face was contorted in anguish and terror. I tore into her again and again, her broken figure jerking and lifting as I pulled at her.

My conflicted nature came to the fore. Part of me was in agony. Part of me was laughing. Like a dam, distressed and buckling under the weight of rising floodwaters, something in me broke open.

With a snarl, I let my power pour out of me, giving it free rein in a way that I was too fearful to before. In that moment I didn’t care if the woods burst into flames, or if I drowned Hyrule with my hate. I just reacted.

I was just lost.

The mist barreled away from me in a great dome, letting the sunlight in. The vision was gone. I could breathe. In the clarity that followed I felt for Zelda’s presence and sent my power cascading towards her, opening a canyon through the fog. She spotted me as the sunlight washed over her, and she ran towards me, her expression full of relief. She’s so stupid. So am I.

She fisted her hands in my tunic, catching her breath as the mist encircled us again. I wanted to pull her into my arms. I wanted to hold her close and protect her from this place. I wanted to tell her everything I’ve seen and everything I am and beg her to take pity on me and put an end to this because I just couldn’t go on anymore—Goddesses, I couldn’t do this anymore.

But I was barely in control. My power was still flying through my veins, threatening to burst out of me at any moment and do incomprehensible damage. My heart was still pounding. I cautiously put my hands on her shoulders, hoping the contact would calm me a little. It did; her warmth under my hands grounded me, helping me shunt reality into the forefront of my mind and block the visions out.

“I don’t have as much courage as I thought,” she whispered.

She had no idea what she was saying. She was so, so brave, so young but so capable, standing on the brink of her power with all the potential in the world. She was beautiful and wonderful, and she was going to be an amazing queen someday. She embodied everything I loved about my Zelda.

I almost told her. I was almost that weak. But then I swallowed it and told her the truth instead.

“Neither do I.”

#Legend of Zelda #Zelink #Fanfic #Calamiversary #Calamitous #Link's POV #Calamity!Link #snippet

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16ruedelaverrerie · 4 years ago

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I adore you, and I'm sure you get this question a lot—but just how do you know what to look for? What lines to say? What research to do? Do you get into a hobby e. wine tasting for a fic, or is it the other way round? Sometimes it feels like you're Atlas, carrying the whole weight of the world in your hands. You're absolutely amazing!

No anon! I’ve never gotten this question before! Even if I had, I think that process is a fairly mutable thing, so answers to questions about process tend to evolve-- and EVEN IF I HAD THE EXACT SAME ANSWERS TO THIS HYPOTHETICAL PAST QUESTION, YOU SHOULD STILL FEEL POWERFUL AND FREE TO ASK WHATEVER YOU WANT WHENEVER YOU WANT

The research question is the most straightforward one for me to answer! I’m for sure CONSTANTLY looking things up as I write, but -- if the distinction makes sense -- they tend to be things related to detail, not me teaching myself something from the ground up for the purposes of writing about it. Like, I’ll look up “jamon iberico pairing not sherry???” but I don’t think I could have written a food-and-wine AU if I wasn’t already into food and wine. That’s entirely because I’m SO! FUCKING! SLOW! AT WRITING!!! and I would LITERALLY NEVER FINISH ANYTHING if I let myself learn about completely new things first. That research stage always appealed the most to me, out of the way that novelists do their work, but I think writing fic is an ongoing race against time-- fandoms continuously hemorrhage people as they lose interest, and (speaking as a person who doesn’t know how to leave fandoms!) you just can’t hang onto a fic for too long, if you want anyone to read it at all :’(

I wonder if I understand what you mean by “what to look for” and “what lines to say”, but in the way that I DO understand it... There are definitely distinct stages to the way that I flesh out scenes!

Gathering and structuring: First, I identify what’s indispensable to this particular story, and build a very gestural outline of how those indispensable moments are placed in relation to the narrative arc. For Les Mignardises, some of those things might have been “oysters on the half-shell” (place at beginning to establish texture and investments of fic), “big blow-up confrontation with Hank” (place at climax tension breaking point), and “hamo yubiki as grand-ass metaphor for sexual healing” (place at closing to give Gavin and Nines their soppy fucking happy ending)

Letting it sit: Despite the “fics are a race against time” thing, I find that I really benefit from giving these ideas space to breathe; that allows me to consider what details populate the scenes and what the tendons are that link them to other scenes in the fic. A lot of what happens during this stage is stuff like “this song came up on the radio and WHAT IF GAVIN AND NINES???” e.g. I was probably watching Taco Chronicles on Netflix -> I want to capture that particular rhythm of a busy city stirring itself to life in the early morning hours -> those two fools should eat breakfast on a balcony -> Nines probably makes a habit of bringing Gavin food -> he should also bring Gavin food when they’re at the riverfront -> but that time should GO VERY BADLY so that it acts as a release valve for their antagonism -> Nines fucking up would also let him seem a little less opaque to Gavin -> and so on and so forth.

Connecting the dots: When I actually sit down to write the scenes, trying to figure out how the bullet points for each scene flow into one another provides another occasion for brainstorming. This is, I think, where most of the actual dialogue comes in. I know already what new information needs to be presented during the confrontation with Hank: “Gavin thinks he’s not over Hank”, “Hank gave Gavin the head chef job”, “Gavin tried to straight up murder Connor once”, “Connor’s fucking chill about it though”, “Nines would like to stake his claim”. But in what order should these revelations be arranged, and what gets said in between each burst of disclosure? It’s difficult for me to see with that level of granularity unless I’m working at that level of granularity, so often these things remain unelaborated until I’m typing it out for real.

IS ANY OF THIS ANYTHING? It’s really terrible that the only examples I can give for anything are always Les Mignardises, since I haven’t exactly been PROLIFIC for DBH and Inception fandom is a different beast altogether (albeit a beast I will always love). Anyway I’m sorry I am not here with an offering of a better Christmas present like art or finished fic (...though, on second thought, ARE those better offerings?) but I’M WORKING ON IT! At least at the end of this, there will be finally be another goddamn fic that can serve as examples for my confused and longwinded meditations on writing! (Once again, to reiterate, Pedal to the Metal is an exception to everything and should be tucked away into the biohazardous waste bin where it belongs.) ANON YOU’RE A BLESSING AND I HOPE THAT THE END OF THE YEAR TREATS YOU WITH ALL THE KINDNESS YOU DESERVE

#askbox #let me hear your fandom talk #les mignardises

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hippohead · 4 years ago

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postcode envy (6/24)

i am horrendously behind and catching up has been tricky with work, but i am still working on this advent fic, i promise!

read it on ao3

Okay, so maybe Kurt should have thought it through.

He’s out, Blaine is out, and they’re both in the public eye to some extent. You don’t have to give the media much before they start connecting dots... even when those dots don’t exactly connect yet.

Or at all.

But it was just supposed to be a cute photo on his Instagram feed.

Blaine, personally, is having a wonderful time with it. He had walked onto set on their first day of filming and loudly announced to the make-up artists that the world thinks he’s dating Hollywood’s Kurt Hummel, and he'd followed it up with a dramatic bow. At first, Kurt had taken it on the chin and laughed it off and chuckled whenever Blaine had made a reference to it. But they’re on their third consecutive day of filming on a farm in East Auckland and he’s had it.

As if the heat and the cow shit and his less-than-ideal costume wasn’t enough, he’s having to fend off calls from friends and family back home and deal with everyone’s questions at work. If he sees one more raised eyebrow or knowing smile from a crew member, he’s going to lose it.

“Hey, mate. You okay?”

Kurt forces a smile onto his face and turns to where Kura is standing a couple of feet away from him, “Yeah, just having a breather.” They're all on their lunch break and as much as he's been channeling some of his anger towards the farm itself, it really is beautiful and calming. Rolling hills and an incredible view of the ocean stretching out far away from them. He likes being able to see the water, and he likes that you’re never really far away from being able to in New Zealand.

Kura makes her way over to where Kurt is standing and they both look out at the sea, a nice silence settling over them. Kurt sort of hopes they can just be here and not do or say anything for a while, but then she raises her arm and points, “That’s Maraetai Beach down there.”

“It’s beautiful.”

She hums in agreement, “A couple of us are going to head down there after we wrap tonight and get some fish and chips. You should come,” and then, as a cheeky afterthought, she adds, “And you can bring that boyfriend of yours.”

Kurt manages a chuckle but it’s weak and transparent.

When Kura speaks again, it’s more serious than he’s ever heard her. “You must get pretty sick of people being all up in your business all the time, huh?”

He tears his gaze away from the view and looks at her, tries to figure out what she wants from him; the truth, or the sugarcoated answer he’s learnt to give. But there’s a softness in the way she’s waiting for his reply and so he decides to just be honest. “It can get a bit overwhelming, yeah. The fact that I can’t even post a photo with a male friend without the world planning our wedding is... tiresome.”

She grimaces slightly, guilt in her expression over the fact that she’s definitely made a couple of light jokes over the past few days. “I’m really sorry, Kurt. We shouldn’t be adding to all of that.”

He nods, smiling, accepts the apology. And then, to let her know that they’re okay, he says, “I’d love to come to the beach. And I’ll bring my boyfriend.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and they laugh, and then they look back out at the ocean again.

- - - - -

Kurt’s not sure if this is exactly his ideal way of eating dinner, but there is something about the content feeling of it that is appealing.

A group of them had piled into cars after work and wound down the hill until they'd reached the water’s edge, with Kura planning to meet them there with the food. Once she'd found them and called, “Kai’s here,” everyone had gone about setting up picnic blankets on the sand and putting out bread and tomato sauce and untangling the newspaper-wrapped bundle.

And it’s not like Kurt’s never had fish and chips before, but there’s something about this meal that feels like a ritual and a tradition. There’s a certain way about it, as if feeling this airy and easy and happy whilst sharing food with friends on the ground with the waves lapping nearby is how it should always be.

“Come on, try a chip butty.”

Kurt looks at Blaine, unimpressed, “A chip what-y?”

Blaine smiles at him in such a goofy way that it makes Kurt want to shake his head in disbelief – how can this man’s silliness be so effortlessly charming? It’s infuriating. And endearing. He always comes back to endearing.

“A chip butty,” he clarifies, even though he knows just as well as Kurt that he heard him the first time. He holds out his own butty to punctuate his point.

“I have no desire to put fried potato inside of white bread and drown it in ketchup, but thank you,” and he means that, but he says it kindly.

Blaine mocks hurt, “Kurt, you’re breaking my heart.”

“Alert the media,” he mutters under his breath, a little bitterly but Blaine doesn’t seem to catch it. He says the next bit more purposefully, “Will New Zealand forgive me if I don’t indulge in its weird potato sandwich?”

“It’s actually a British thing,” he frowns, realising that the whole thing stems from colonization and he decides to stop pushing for Kurt to try it.

After all of the eating has slowed down, two of the camera boys that were sitting on the other side of the giant arrangement of picnic blankets suddenly get up and race each other into the water, splashing and yelling and laughing. One by one, everyone else follows them until it’s just Kurt, Blaine, and Kura standing over them, asking them if they’re coming in.

“I’m not really a salt water person,” Kurt says.

Blaine looks at him for a moment like he wants to question that or push for him to go in the water, but then something shifts and he turns back to Kura, “Go, have fun, Ku. We’ll look after everyone’s stuff.”

Kura doesn’t seem too bothered and heads off, striping down to her bra and shorts as she goes. Kurt laughs fondly at her carefreeness, and lays back on the blanket. It feels nice to not really care about the sand getting in his hair, and it’s his contribution to the carefreeness.

“I’m really sorry for how I’ve been acting about- about the article.”

Kurt turns his head sharply, looking up at Blaine who is still sitting upright, knees pulled to his chest now, arms wrapped around them. Clearly Blaine is not participating in the carefreeness. He can only see the side of his face as he’s keeping his eyes on the sea, but it looks concerned and worried and more remorseful than is probably warranted. It's not like he wrote the article himself.

“Blaine, it’s-”

“It’s not, Kurt.” Blaine says, shaking his head slightly but not turning it, almost stubbornly. “It’s not okay. I’m sure you deal with that kind of shit all the time and I shouldn’t be trivialising it.”

Kurt takes a deep breath in and lets that sit between for a moment. “Thank you,” he says on the exhale, because that really does mean a lot. The fact that Blaine’s so self-reflective and caring doesn’t help Kurt in his effort to stop the part of him that wishes the tabloids were right. He looks at Blaine and he wonders why they’re not, what’s stopping him from turning the rumours into reality. “I guess there are worse people for the world to think I’m having a summer fling with.”

Blaine finally looks at him and there is something in his eyes for a second, and then whatever it is clears until it’s just joy and stars and ease - and Kurt realises that the ease is the reason for the not doing anything about it just yet - and he chuckles.

And then he lays down next to Kurt, mirroring his position half in the sand, and they watch the sky flick through different hues of blue until it settles on a darkness that's still kind of light enough. They talk, and sometimes they don't - just listen to the squealing still coming from their friends in the water. And it's during one of those moments when they're not talking that he wonders how long it's going to take him to figure out the ease.

He hopes it won't take too long.

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: farm #klaine fanfiction #klaine #i wrote this!

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bipabrena · 4 years ago

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Beneath x the x Ice (AO3 HisoIllu fic) Chapter 5

A fic where there’s more to Illumi than meets the eye. Hisoka goes to great lengths to help him realise he deserves better than the Zoldycks and being a puppet to his parents, even at the expense of their friendship. Slow-burn HisoIllu. Read the whole thing here.

Illumi stopped in his heel for a couple of seconds. He had to squint, to evaluate if the redhead that looked from side to side every now and then, leaning against the diner’s window, was Hisoka. His mouth formed a small “o”.

It really was.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, and approached him.

“Hisoka,” he called, halfway to the diner.

The redhead perked up, and looked at the direction the voice came from. He smiled as the assassin walked towards him.

“Illu ♥!”

The Zoldyck stopped, now face-to-face with the magician. He subtly scanned him from head-to-toe, even though he had already done that when walking to him. Hisoka was fashioning a teal cardigan with a grey sweater underneath, khaki pants, and a sage coloured scarf. His hair was layered down, and he wore no make-up.

“So,” Illumi broke the silence, “I take it you’re cold tonight.”

Hisoka’s shoulders shook in laughter. “I have no idea how you could tell. ♠”

Now it was the magician’s turn to eye the assassin. He fashioned the same clothing from lunch. His smile stretched.

“Hm?” Illumi inquired, noticing Hisoka’s foraging eyes.

“You’re looking lovely. You have an interesting fashion sense for an assassin, I must say. ♦”

“As do you,” Illumi replied. “You’re like a rainbow with all those colours on you.”

Hisoka was expecting the assassin to mention how he wasn’t wearing make-up, how his hair was down, or how he wasn’t dressed the way Illumi complained about days prior. Well, he was disappointed.

“Are we going to see the meteor shower here?” Illumi asked, knowing that a city was the worst place to see such an event due to the light pollution.

“Oh, you offend me, Illu. I’m not so cheap! ♠” he ran fingers through his hair, cheeky smile on his face. “I have a very nice night planned for us, you see. ♥”

“I understand,” Illumi replied. He enjoyed the way Hisoka looked right now. “I suppose I’ll allow you to lead the way.”

“Oh?” Hisoka brought his fist to his mouth, chuckling. “So, you’re a sub? ♦”

“What?” the assassin didn’t understand what he meant.

“Nothing,” Hisoka waved his hand with a grin, shrugging off his previous statement. If he had to explain the joke, it would obviously lose the humour. “Come on, Pacific Park is nearby. The meteor shower shouldn’t hit until midnight. ♣”

“What?” Illumi repeated.

Hisoka cast a backwards glance.

“That’s five hours, Hisoka. Why couldn’t we have met at nine as originally planned? Or ten?”

“I told you, Illu,” he smiled “I have a nice night planned for us. ♥”

Illumi blinked at him.

“Will you trust me? ♠”

“I’m hungry,” the assassin announced. “I skipped supper because of this, so food better be in your plans.”

Hisoka moaned, drawing the attention of people walking near-by. A mother tightened the grip on her daughter’s hand, walking faster to get away from the odd redhead.

Illumi seemed indifferent to yet another one of Hisoka's eccentric episodes.

Hisoka placed a hand on his chest. “You skipped supper for me?” He squinted his eyes in a long smile.

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Oh, Illu… ♥”

Illumi’s sight wandered, from side to side, eyeing every person walking past them. Two pedestrians, in particular, ogled Hisoka as if he were disgusting. For some reason, this upset Illumi.

“Are we leaving or not?” he asked.

“Yes, of course! ♥” Hisoka led the way.

Illumi followed. They walked for various minutes. The city lights gleamed their faces. They walked past people, pets, bars with neon signs—and during the entire trip, Illumi could see Hisoka talking.

He talked, and talked. He swirled his body, looked back at Illumi; always fashioning that cheeky smile. The Zoldyck followed Hisoka mindlessly, but he was, quite frankly, not listening to him. Then, they reached their destination. Pacific Park.

It was an amusement park located on the coast. It wasn’t large, but it was cosy, and housed very entertaining attractions. The most visually appealing ones, or, in other words, the first you would notice immediately, were the neon-lighted roller-coaster that whirled the park, and the Ferris wheel that sentinelled the ocean.

Hisoka was about to do a spectacular, charming introduction to the park, but Illumi beat him to it and spoke up first.

“Are we going to eat here?” Illumi asked.

Frankly, Hisoka wasn’t planning on taking Illumi to dine until ten. His original plan was to spend time together at the amusement park, ride some attractions, chat, attend one of the stage shows, to then dine at one of Illumi’s favourite restaurants. The final act of the night would be the meteor shower, which they would see on a lake five-miles from here.

He figured that, being isolated from the world as a child, Illumi was never taken to places like this. He thought it’d be interesting for the lonely assassin to experience it.

“Yes! ♥” Hisoka responded with pride. “But!” he emphasised, “not dinner per se, because first—"

“I don’t like this place,” Illumi decided.

“Sorry?” Hisoka didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

“I don’t want to eat here. What was the plan? To eat, then ride something? I would get nauseous. Or to ride something, then eat? I don’t see the fun. This is not a nice place to eat. I would’ve much preferred a restaurant.”

Hisoka felt offended over Illumi’s critiquing of his plan. Why couldn’t the assassin not be dense for once, and allow things to flow?

“Now, Illu, don’t be impatient!” he rose a hand. “We will dine, at Mirazur to be precise. However, the reservation is at ten, and don’t you agree it would be fun to do something else first? This is a spectacular place! ♠”

The assassin looked around. “I don’t see the big deal,” he lied. The place looked gorgeous, and he enjoyed the visually appealing night-lights.

Hisoka bolted towards Illumi, positioning himself behind him. He gently grabbed his shoulders. “There’s a lot to do! There are these rides,” he pointed to the rollercoaster and Ferris wheel, then a pirate ship on the far left, “there’s a shooting range,” he pointed to the distant right. “There are stage-shows up ahead,” he pointed to the front.

He rested both hands on Illumi’s right shoulder, and leaned his chin on them. “It will be fun. I promise. ♥” He smiled.

Illumi pierced him with his large and impassive, black eyes. He wondered why Hisoka was so close to his face. “Okay.”

“Good! ♦” Hisoka clapped once. “Let me give you a tour, shall we? But,” he rose a finger, “let’s get ice-cream first.”

Illumi’s eyebrows rose. “Ice-cream?”

“Yes. ♥”

“I am okay with that,” Illumi approved.

He loved sweets. Being thoroughly denied them as a child, he developed an itching need to consume them often. He would take advantage of this.

They approached one of the ice-cream stands. It was massive. There were several people in-line, and Illumi wished he could stick his needles in them to make them leave. By the way the assassin observed them, Hisoka was able to deduce, immediately, his intentions. He smiled. Suddenly, Illumi felt a gentle touch on his wrist. He looked to his left, where Hisoka stood.

“Now, now, Illu… don’t try anything funny. We’re in public. ♠”

“Who are you to say that? You moan in public all the time.”

“Mm, but that’s not the same as trying to kill people. ♣”

How ironic of Hisoka, of all people, to say such a thing.

“I wasn’t planning on killing them,” Illumi muttered. “Just make them leave.”

The magician grazed his thumb over the assassin’s wrist, much to the latter’s discomfort. “You are very lucky to have me,” Hisoka stated proudly. “Don’t fear, Illu, I will teach you how to behave in public! ♠”

“Excuse you?” Illumi interjected. “I very well know how to behave in public. Who are you to—” he stopped in his tracks.

Hisoka narrowed his eyes with a long smile.

He’s just trying to rile you up. It takes two to tango.

“You are correct,” Illumi looked forward.

“Ah?” Hisoka’s smile reverted, puzzled.

“Yes,” Illumi responded, not making any sense.

Hisoka opened his mouth to say something, but his dense friend interjected.

“I will have three scoops, all different flavours,” he announced. “What will you have?” he looked at Hisoka.

Oh, this man was so endearing. Hisoka could barely contain himself.

“Oh, Illu… ♥” his smile stretched.

“Hello,” the female cashier greeted.

“Oh, hello,” Hisoka boldly leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. He bore a coquettish smile. “A banana split, no whipped cream. I want almonds for a topping. Please do sprinkle them everywhere. ♥”

Illumi caught the flustered look on the young cashier’s face. He supposed she wasn’t used to having such a charismatic, bold customer.

“And you, sir?” she looked at the assassin. His impossibly large, onyx eyes made her feel uneasy. He was quite attractive, but she’d rather look at the redhead that bore a much more inviting expression.

“I want a large ice-cream cone, three scoops. One cookies and cream, one caramel and one chocolate.”

The cashier nodded, smiling. She announced the price, and Illumi sought his wallet to pay for his snack.

Hisoka stopped him in his tracks. “How silly of me! ♠” he slapped his forehead. “Did I not mention I would be the one to pay, Illu ♥?”

While his intention was to be the same old-fashioned, quirky Hisoka, the cashier couldn’t help but believe these two were a couple.

Illumi spoke, as impassive as ever. “No, thanks, Hisoka. I’ll pay for my own." He was about to hand the money, but Hisoka held his hand and pulled it down.

“I insist. ♥” He purred.

That whispery, half-growl tone definitely stirred something strange in Illumi’s belly. Hisoka was weird…

“Oh, well,” Illumi shrugged, getting off the line. If he had free ice-cream, better for him.

He walked towards one of the nearest attractions. His eye shifted from the ride to the sign. It was called “King’s Dominion,” a 305 foot drop-tower with a 72mph descent.

Currently, people were mounting the ride. It would begin shortly.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, and it was Hisoka, offering his ice-cream cone.

“Thanks,” Illumi muttered, eyes shifting back to the ride.

Hisoka noticed something curious. The more time passed, the more Illumi’s guard eased. Right now, he was alert enough to anticipate any sort of danger, but he was relaxed enough to enjoy his surroundings. In fact, he was so relaxed, he didn’t notice the way Hisoka was looking at him. Hisoka was fascinated, taking small spoons of his banana split.

He wasn’t paying attention to the crazy night-lights, the people screaming in near-by rides, or the people walking past them. His attention was, irrefutably, focused on no one but Illumi and Illumi alone.

The ride was about to commence. Illumi leaned forward expectantly.

“Illu,” Hisoka chuckled, “you haven’t tasted your ice-cream. ♦”

Illumi did not respond. He watched as the tower went up. He could see the people getting smaller and smaller, some wiggling their legs. His lips were parted, eager to find out what would happen next.

Hisoka never took his eyes off him.

The tower stopped. Faint “yeah”s and “whoo-s” could be heard from above.

Illumi quickly took a bite of his ice-cream, as to not miss a single second of what was about to occur. He licked his lips.

Hisoka was dying.

Then, screaming ensued. The tower dropped, and all Illumi could see was hands and feet wiggling in the air.

The ride stopped midway. The fascinated assassin gasped quietly.

Then, it went back up.

“Oh!” Illumi uttered, surprised.

It went back down. The motion was repeated three times, until the ride finally dropped for the last time, stopping. The riders unbuckled their belts, and ran to the exit, some quite tipsy.

Hisoka loved how disbelieving Illumi looked. In a way, he couldn’t understand how Illumi had never seen something like this before.

Illumi finally noticed the way Hisoka stared at him. He turned to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he smiled, taking a spoonful of his banana split. “You simply haven’t eaten your ice-cream yet. ♣”

“I took a bite,” Illumi refuted.

“Yes, but that’s not eating it. ♠” Hisoka repositioned his scarf. “It’s melting! ♥”

“Oh, yes,” Illumi agreed, looking at drops run down the cone. He licked the ice-cream, from the second scoop to the third. “That is very good,” he concluded.

“Yes, I can see… ♥” Hisoka hoped Illumi would continue doing such a gesture.

Illumi’s nose tickled. He inhaled, then sneezed gracefully. Hisoka couldn’t believe how he could look perfect doing even that. He felt something cold hit his shoes, and that’s when he saw Illumi’s ice-cream. The sudden movement made the scoops drop from the cone.

Illumi eyed it, and blinked. “Oh, no,” he stated, in the most monotone voice possible. He sounded robotic, and like he couldn't care less. But truly, he really was bummed his ice-cream fell. It was rather amusing to Hisoka how that hollow, robotic tone betrayed Illumi's words of despair.

“That’s okay,” he shook off his feet, ignoring what just happened. “I can get you another one. ♦”

“No, but thanks,” Illumi announced, throwing the cone in the stand’s trash can. “I would like to ride something now.”

Ride me. Hisoka thought. “Mm. Would you like to ride that one? ♥” he pointed at the drop-tower they just observed.

“I believe so, yes.”

“Okay,” Hisoka grabbed a large spoonful of his ice-cream, and offered it to Illumi. ”Here! ♥”

Illumi stared for a couple of seconds. “What are you doing?”

“Hm? I’m offering you a spoonful of my ice-cream. ♣”

“Yes, I can see,” Illumi looked at the spoon. “But why?” his eyes shifted back to the redhead.

“It’s ice-cream, Illu. You dropped yours, and sharing is caring. Why wouldn’t you want it ♥?” he chuckled.

Illumi blinked at him.

“It’s not poisoned… ♠”

“Yes, but you ate from that spoon,” Illumi remarked.

“Sorry?” Hisoka pulled the spoon away from him.

“You put your mouth there. Why would I eat from there?”

Hisoka’s lips parted. Was Illumi implying he disgusted him? He felt very offended, something he didn’t know was possible for someone like him.

“Can we ride the drop-tower now?” Illumi asked.

“Go ahead, I’ll watch from here,” Hisoka stated, looking forward at the ride, eating the rejected spoonful of ice-cream.

“You’re not coming?” Illumi inquired.

“Well, I did just say I’d watch from here. That means I won’t go, no?” he kept the spoon in his mouth for a couple of seconds.

Illumi only began to notice something was off. Hisoka was acting different, all the sudden.

“You’re acting strange,” Illumi stated matter-of-factly.

“Ah,” is all Hisoka responded. He still looked forward, avoiding Illumi’s gaze.

“Oh!” the assassin brought his fist to his palm, believing he figured out what changed Hisoka’s mood. “I splattered ice-cream on your shoes. Is that why?”

Hisoka finally looked at him, lips pursed in annoyance. Illumi gazed at him expectantly, to which Hisoka could only laugh. Laugh at Illumi’s denseness, laugh at himself for feeling offended; laugh at how Illumi was making this night not-too-easy to enjoy the way Hisoka expected. It would be a waste of time trying to explain the simple-minded assassin why the magician felt offended to begin with.

“I haven’t finished this glorious treat, Illu, ♥” Hisoka chuckled, in attempts to lighten the mood again. “I can’t ride while eating it.”

“Oh,” Illumi felt silly for believing something was wrong to begin with. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Are you sure? ♦” the magician inquired.

“Yes.”

He waited in silence as Hisoka took his time eating his ice-cream. He was almost done, now eating the bananas. They watched a second round from the attraction.

“Okay. ♥” Hisoka threw the empty container.

They waited in line. Hisoka peeked at Illumi, who was blankly looking forward. He broke the silence by chuckling, drawing the assassin’s attention.

He tried to softly run fingers through Illumi’s hair, but the latter pulled back before he could touch him.

Oh, Illu… why must you make this so difficult? “You should tie your hair, otherwise it’ll be rather uncomfortable. ♣”

“Oh,” Illumi muttered. “I didn’t bring a hair-tie.”

“What about your needles? ♦”

“They’re a bother to tie my hair with,” he brought his hair up and gathered it around itself to make a bun. "But I suppose I've no other choice," he kept it in place with two needles.

He looked intimidating, but in an enigmatic, attractive way. And Hisoka loved it.

“Mm. Scary. ♥” Hisoka purred, observing him intently.

There it was again. That tone, and the slight narrowing of Hisoka’s golden eyes. It stirred something in Illumi, something he couldn’t identify. A strange, warm feeling.

They were next.

Hisoka was incredibly excited, hoping that the vertigo would produce an expression in Illumi. Oh, he couldn’t wait!

They sat next to each other and buckled their belts, waiting for everyone else to accommodate. Hisoka looked like an excited child, which Illumi found amusing. Could he blame him, though? The assassin felt a dull hint of excitement himself.

They went up.

Hisoka held Illumi’s hand, and rose his arm. Illumi immediately pulled it back. “What are you doing?”

“Put your hands up, Illu! ♥” Hisoka smiled. “It makes it more fun,” He insisted, grabbing his hand again.

Hisoka’s long, slender fingers felt warm and delicate wrapped around Illumi’s. It was odd to the assassin how these deadly fingers capable of crushing bone and stone could feel so… inviting.

He complied.

The ride, now at the top, remained still for five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Illumi heard piercing screams, and wind abruptly hit his face. A tingly sensation overcame his stomach, but his expression remained the same. It felt similar to when he jumped off a building. He suddenly felt squeezing in his hand, and recalled Hisoka was holding it. He turned to look at the redhead, and found a strange child-like innocence in him.

Hisoka bore a huge grin, his scarf flew up his face. He swung his legs, yelling “whoo-s". He looked relaxed, and happy. Illumi found it strange, but endearing. He found himself, reflexively, squeezing his hand back. Had you asked Illumi why he did it, he wouldn’t know what to reply. His answer would simply be “because it felt right.”

Read the rest of the chapter here.

#hisoillu #hisoka x illumi #Hisoka #illumi #hxh

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