#anyway i need a name for this series. if anyone has any ideas for what i should name it please send me an ask
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Remember the thing I wrote about Mikey getting shot? Here's part three!
Part 1 & 2 | Part 4 (coming soon)
They hit the ground hard, crashing into the center of the Lair.
Mikey half sobbed, half screamed at the jolting landing.
“I’m sorry,” Leo cried out. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for us to fall that far. I’m sorry!”
“Leo? Mikey?!” Raph stood over them, horror etched on his face.
“Raph!” Leo’s voice cracked. He couldn’t break now. He still had so much work to do. “Raph…” He couldn’t seem to say anything else. He was just so relieved to see him, but still so scared. He could feel his baby brother bleeding out in his arms. “Raph. Raph, Raph–”
Raph dropped to his knees. Both of his hands shot out, one to cradle Mikey’s head, and the other to rest on Leo’s shoulder. “I need you to focus, Leo,” he said in a deadly serious voice. “Tell me what happened later. Donnie is preppin’ the med bay but he can only do so much. Can you save Mikey?”
Leo squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never done anything like this before. None of them had ever been in this sort of condition before. He didn’t have the experience, didn’t have the knowledge–
“Leo.”
He wanted so badly to shove Mikey into Raph’s arms and pass out. But Mikey would die if Leo did that. He was the only one who could possibly save Mikey.
Mikey let out a pitiful whine. With heavy-lidded, cloudy eyes, Leo wasn’t sure exactly how conscious he was anymore. All he knew was that Mikey was in severe pain. He stared down at Mikey, unable to move.
“Leo!” Raph shook his shoulder. Mikey sobbed. “Leo, can Mikey count on you to save him?”
Raph always knew exactly what Leo needed, and those were the right words to snap Leo out of his spiral and directly into action. He nodded.
Leo tried to stand, he really did. But his legs were shaking too hard, and his arms were too busy clutching Mikey to himself. He couldn’t get up. “Raph,” his voice still trembled, “I need you to carry us there.”
“Raph’s on it.” With impossibly gentle arms, Raph scooped them up and began sprinting to the med bay.
Mikey screamed with each step.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo whispered. “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” They weren’t supposed to move him like this. Not until he was stabilized. But there was nothing else Leo could think to do at that moment.
Whether out of breath or out of time, Mikey’s screams faded into wheezing, ragged breaths. Leo panicked like he never had before. Whether from blood loss or pain, Mikey had passed out. But Leo could still feel Mikey’s faint heartbeat, fluttering like the hope he cradled almost as tightly as his brother.
Raph ran faster.
As the med bay doors came into view, Leo attempted to take a steadying breath. He didn’t know what exactly the next few hours of scrambling to save Mikey’s life would entail, but he knew that it was all on his shoulders.
As Mikey was gently layed out on the cot, Leo allowed himself one moment to take in his injuries under the bright medbay light.
His shoulder was a torn, bloody mess due to a horrifically ragged bullet exit wound. Mikey’s whole arm hung at an awkward, limp angle. The top right quarter of his shell was mangled: cracked from the impact, splintering apart, and some of it was simply gone. Dark blood had welled between the fissures. In fact, blood was everywhere. Staining Mikey’s hands from where he’d tried to stop the bleeding, spilling down his plastron, congealing on his head where the barrel had hit him. Grimy streaks of gunk from the disgusting floor of the alleyway only added to the horrifying picture.
In fact, the only part of him that wasn’t splattered in some way were the tear tracks cutting down his cheeks. Leo wondered how much he’d cried when he’d left, believing that Leo must have abandoned him.
If Leo hadn’t felt Mikey’s weak pulse with his own hands only seconds ago, he might have assumed the worst from looking at Mikey’s pained, pale face.
He was shaking.
Leo got to work.
—
The edges of Leo’s vision were fuzzy as he pressed a damp rag to his baby brother’s clammy, warm forehead. Entirely honed in, nothing else in the world mattered except that Mikey kept breathing.
Ragged, shallow, pained breaths, but breathing nonetheless.
Mikey’s face was still scrunched in pain, as it had been for hours. A small whine that sounded far too much like a heart monitor in a flatline came from Mikey’s throat.
“It’s okay,” Leo whispered, his voice hoarse from barking orders at his family. “I’ve got you. I promise.”
It had been fourteen, maybe fifteen hours since Leo had portaled into the middle of the Lair, clutching a bleeding, broken brother. Everything still felt broken. Everything was still broken.
If Leo had been asked to recount exactly what had happened in the many white-knuckled hours before, he would not have been able to recall very much. He didn’t even know what time it was anymore.
All he remembered was Mikey’s orange bandana stained a dark red. Shards of Mikey’s shell held loosely in his hands. Donnie’s frozen gaze that had forced Leo to yell at him to get moving several times as he’d scrambled to hook up monitors. Accidentally missing Raph’s vein the first try during the critically needed blood transfusion. Towels and rags becoming a deeper and deeper pink as wounds were cleaned. Mounting horror that rose with Mikey’s temperature as Leo realized that he had developed an infection. Worst of all, he remembered the way Mikey’s heartbeat faded in and out.
Uneven. Unsteady.
Until it had stopped altogether.
Leo didn’t remember the chest compressions or the defibrillator or the medication or the frantic voices of his brothers or the weird blue sparks that had circled his shaking hands as his markings glowed. He only remembered being blinded by sharp, icy-white panic.
Whichever of the treatments actually worked, Leo didn’t remember through the relieved haze.
He’d saved him.
He’d gotten Mikey’s heart to beat again. But it still took everything to keep it that way.
Hours after the stitches, the bandaging, the arduous process of the pitiful shell repair they managed to do, the antibiotics, the transfusion, and every other necessary procedure, Mikey was only slightly more stable.
Even after everything he’d done, Leo’s world remained only a few heartbeats away from shattering forever.
Leo re-wet the cloth and pressed it Mikey’s overheating head once more. His free hand clung to Mikey’s motionless one. A hand that always had paint or clay or glitter under the fingernails. A hand that had painted countless scenes of their family together. Hands that lovingly kneaded dough for delicious pizza. Hands that always tapped and twitched and booped and snapped and clapped and made every sort of happy noise.
But now Mikey’s hands were perfectly still in Leo’s grip. Unnatural and upsetting. No matter how hard Leo squeezed, Mikey’s fingers didn’t so much as twitch.
Distantly, someone made a sound that might have been Leo’s name.
It took him a few seconds to register that someone else was there. Finally, Leo slowly raised his head, looking around.
“Leo,” Raph said in a low voice, “let me watch over him for a while.”
Leo shook his head. Immediately, he regretted doing so, as the world continued to sway even after he stopped.
“Leo, please. You almost look as terrible as he does. Get some sleep.”
“I can’t.” Leo’s voice was so scratchy it hardly even sounded like himself. It hurt to speak. “I need to be here in case something happens again.”
“The worst is over. And even if somethin’ did happen, you wouldn’t be able to do anythin’ in this state. Mikey and I will be right here the whole time. Just… please rest.” Raph tugged the cloth out of Leo’s stiff fingers.
He didn’t react.
“Leo, you’ve been workin’ nonstop for almost sixteen hours now. You did it. He’s safe.”
“We’re not safe,” Leo whispered, staring at nothing. “She’s still out there. She wants Donnie.” The woman’s cold face and the even colder glint off the barrel of the gun were burned into Leo’s mind. He doubted the Foot Clan had been able to stop her for long. Even if they had, there would still be consequences for tangling with… whoever she was.
“Donnie’s upping security right now,” Raph continued in that same gentle voice.
Of course. Someone should probably go make sure Donnie wasn’t blaming himself for what had transpired in the alley. Yes, the woman had been searching for him because of money he’d apparently stolen from her, but Donnie had no idea what he’d been getting into. Donnie never intended for any of this to happen. Donnie, who once set a table on fire because Mikey had stubbed his toe on it, wouldn’t rest until he was positive his baby brother was safe. Donnie may be blaming himself, but Leo knew who had fired the gun. And why.
Leo hadn’t been able to rat Donnie out. And because of that, Mikey’s shoulder and surrounding shell had been blasted apart.
The flash and immediate spray of red were branded onto Leo’s brain. But what was infinitely worse was the absolute shock and terror of Mikey’s face, and the way it crumpled into agony within a second.
And then the fall.
He had taken, it seemed, hours to fall forward. A slow arc downwards where he had crashed to the pavement.
The bright white medbay and disgusting dark alleyway could not have been more different, but to Leo, everything was blurring together. It didn’t matter where he was, Mikey needed him. He needed to keep watching over him.
It was the absolute least he could do.
“Leo, please, you’re scarin’ me.” The Raph Chasm looked even more serious than usual. “Say somethin’, please.”
Dozens of things he could– should– say flashed through Leo’s head.
It’s my fault.
You didn’t see his face when it happened, Raph. You don’t know.
It was all so horrible.
I can’t leave him.
None of them left his tight throat. He didn’t know what to say to Raph. He didn’t know what he would say to Mikey if– when he woke up.
All he could think about was being dragged away from Mikey’s prone figure, slumped in a growing pool of blood. Leo had screamed and kicked and fought with everything in him to get back to his brother. And nothing had worked.
Leo had left him there.
Entirely alone.
Mikey had literally bled out in darkness, surrounded by grime and garbage.
“I’m not leaving him again,” Leo whispered.
Raph drew breath, like he could possibly say something to change Leo’s mind.
“They forced me to leave him, Raph. Dragged me away. I’m not going to do that again. He needed me and I wasn’t there. I’m not going to do it again. I’m not going to– I’m not–”
“I didn’t say you should leave the medbay,” Raph said calmly, carefully avoiding making eye contact with Leo. He’d taken over the work of gently caressing Mikey’s forehead with the rag he’d taken from Leo (When had he done that?). It was honestly amazing how levelheaded Raph had managed to remain while his littlest brother hung in the balance. Leo supposed it was a defense mechanism so he didn’t freak out and make things worse. “Go grab pillows or something. You can stay, you just have to sleep. Got that?”
Leo conceded.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, squeezing Mikey’s motionless hand. Letting go was harder than it should have been. He forced his fingers to loosen and pull away.
The echo of a gunshot flashed through Leo’s mind, Mikey’s terrified eyes reflecting distant streetlights–
A screaming flatline–
“NO!”
Lurching forward, Leo’s hands latched onto Mikey’s wrist, instantly relieved to feel a pulse underneath. His ears rang. He couldn’t breathe. Over and over and over again, he saw and heard and smelled–
“Leo!” Raph’s steady hand gripped Leo’s bicep. “Hey, it’s over, okay? I promise that Mikey is safe. It’s all thanks to you. It’s okay.”
“It’s because of me,” Leo whispered.
“Yes, it’s because of you that he’s home safe.”
“No–”
“Yes, it’s because of you his little heart is still beating.”
“No–”
“Yes. Leo. Look at me.”
Tearing his eyes away from Mikey’s slowly rising and falling chest was almost impossible, but he managed to meet Raph’s eyes. Leo was shocked to see his own fear and guilt reflected back.
“I’m scared too. You saw how much I panicked when you two dropped in covered in blood. You saw how I could barely sit still during the transfusion.” Leo’s gaze dropped to the gauze around Raph’s inner elbow. Had that only been a few hours ago? “If you go to sleep, it’ll seem like he’ll wake up faster, won’t it?”
Leo had gone back to staring down at Mikey’s pinched face. “I know all that. I just… can’t leave.”
Raph sighed. “Raph’s too soft with you guys. I’ll go get pillows and stuff with the understandin’ that you will attempt to sleep once they’re in here. Got that?”
“Yeah.”
Raph left.
For the millionth time in the past however many hours, Leo checked over Mikey’s vitals again. They hadn’t changed much; he still wasn’t doing great. High fever, shallow breathing, and a heart rate that still hadn’t stabilized. He didn’t know what else he could do. It didn’t feel safe giving him any more antibiotics, and moving him to change bandages again was going to require more hands. Leo didn’t want to think about long term shell repair. He didn’t want to look at the cracks, at the splintered shell, any longer than he had to.
“I’m back! It is now officially Raph’s-Turn-O’Clock.”
“He’s not stable yet,” Leo protested.
“Leo, we had a deal.”
“What if something else happens? If his blood pressure–”
Raph dumped mounds of pillows and blankets at Leo’s feet. “I’ll wake you up if something changes. I swear on Pizza Supreme.”
The moment the pile fwump’ed at his feet and Leo felt soft fabric against his shins, his legs all but gave out. With one final squeeze of Mikey’s hand, Leo sank to the floor. It felt so wrong not to be holding onto Mikey anymore. Surely, Raph had tricked him! Sedated him without him knowing! Something other than just being in the presence of pillows had to be going on.
“How are you… so calm about this?” Leo muttered, fighting off sleep for as long as he could.
“Oh believe me, Raph’s not. Once Raph knows everythin’ is okay then he’ll probably have an epic breakdown. Delayed stress response, n’ stuff. You’re not the only one who almost lost their little brother, Leo.”
“Hmmm,” Leo managed. His limbs were heavy and his mind was filled with fuzz.
A beeping heart rate faded into the beat that Leo’s legs followed as he ran through dream after dream, trying all the while to get to Mikey.
#tw gun violence#tw blood#tw injury#tw medical procedure#tw mention of needle#tw blood and gore#tw blood and injury#tw sibling death#i know it's been forever since i worked on this... so here#i was almost really mean but i decided to spare the boy. for now.#anyway i need a name for this series. if anyone has any ideas for what i should name it please send me an ask#rottmnt fanfiction#my writing#cookie crumbs#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#save rottmnt#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#uhhh yeah i think that's everything?#cool bye
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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.
And that person is music producer, Y/N.
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting.
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing.
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.
The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one.
NEXT PART
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#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.
synop: you get frustrated when you realize viktor is making more progress than you on hextech.
wc: 1037.
includes: just fluff. reader is a secret mage, and their connection to magic inspired them to start developing hextech. reader and viktor are academic (and romantic) partners. lots of czech pet names. he loves you so much.
author's note: been writing a lot of fics relating to being viktor's "only one" (instead of jayce, though jayvik is still very close to my heart) as if they're memories he's looking back on. maybe this will be some sort of anthology series. hope you enjoy.
Your face scrunched up in the exact way Viktor recognized as your last straw. Before he could speak your name, you were already storming out of the lab, stray papers billowing behind you.
Viktor knew to let you cool off for a moment—the frustration of not understanding was unlike any anger comparable. It was self-deprecating, self-destructing, and the sole reason an institute such as the University was build to assuage. There was no point in consoling you before you were ready. You could read the writing on the wall. Viktor was going into territory you couldn’t follow; he was getting too advanced. You would either have to play catch-up or give up altogether. Both, in your mind, were options only for those who have lost.
Viktor gave you an hour. Well, forty minutes before he decided to get up—it took him twenty to make it to the garden he knew you were stewing in. Your form was predictably balled up beneath the swaying willow tree, the branches engulfed in golden light from the sunset.
He rested his cane against the trunk and grunted as he sat down beside you. He spared you the embarrassment of looking at you; he knew you hated how you looked when you cried. Instead, he looked out over the pond for a long moment.
“You know, I get frustrated too,” he murmured.
“Not over little things like this.” You sniffled. Your tears had long stopped, but you always seemed to have a stuffy nose for the rest of the day. And a godsdamned headache.
“No, admittedly not. But you know what I do get frustrated with?”
You didn’t move, didn’t speak. Viktor shrugged and spoke anyway.
“When you don’t see just how intelligent you are. Just because you cannot understand some of the technicalities of Hextech does not mean you are any less brilliant. You are two things, drahá. You are a scholar, and you are a mage.” He clicked his tongue. “And no matter how far we push Hextech, I cannot begin to fathom what you understand about the Arcane. There is a reason you are my partner on this, and a reason I want you as our guide.”
“Yet if anyone knew I was a mage, I’d be hunted down and killed.”
Viktor sighed. “Maybe not killed—but hunted, yes. That is why I also say you are a scholar. You do not put all your eggs in one basket. You aren’t just a being of magic. You are a perfect storm of words and ideas. You see things others cannot, write things others could only dream to dream of. I cannot let you go around thinking you are stupid when you are the one that conceived Hextech in the first place—the one I go to when I’m stuck and need a fresh perspective.”
“What good am I to the world with words and ideas? Everyone has words—it’s those who can make physical improvements that are the most lauded. You take my words and make with them. How could merely thinking of it compare?”
“That is preposterous, miláčku. Everyone may have words, but it is those who wield them with uncanny ability that give people like us a goal to work towards. Who would I be if you had never explained to me the possibilities of harnessing magic? Likely still following Heimerdinger around, an occasional project here and there—but now I have a hand in changing the world. Your words, your ideas, they are not separate of that. I have the ability to make fire, sure, but you have the ability to use it. You are the foundation of my work. I can only go where you have laid down a path. That is where you lack self-awareness. You are exceptional because your ideas are mixed with your smarts. You dream big, you conceive higher, yet you haven’t thought of anything impossible. Not yet.”
Viktor reached over and gently placed his hand atop your arm.
“And do not think that an award from the Council is the highest honor in life. You have done good for all of Runeterra—but for me especially. If I had the choice, I would shower you with accolades and statues, miláčku. You are an extraordinary thinker, an analytical mind, and a mage immune to the trivialities of academia.” His hand slid up to lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. “And you are not that far behind me in invention. Don’t let one problem destroy your vision and hope. You will work through it. You always do.”
You looked at him a long moment, then sighed as you laid your head atop his shoulder. He welcomed you, leaning equal weight against you and holding you still with a hand on your waist.
“...I’m sorry for storming out,” you murmured. “I know that was unprofessional.”
Viktor clicked his tongue. “Oh, please, do you think Jayce is professional?”
You both laughed softly. You sniffled again as you rested a hand atop his knee.
“I think… I’m frustrated, because I want to use magic to help you. And I keep failing. And without the documentation of magic before the Rune Wars, I feel like I’m grasping for a fly in a fog.”
“Don’t worry about me, lásko.”
“You know I can’t do that, Vik.” You nudged him, solemnly playful. “People like you are the reason I started trying to harness the Arcane.”
“Hextech is for everyone.”
“You aren’t included in that?”
Viktor sighed, then leaned up to press a kiss to your hair. “Of course. I just worry you tunnel vision because of me. I don’t want to be the reason you miss a breakthrough.”
“Breakthroughs that don’t lead to you getting better are useless to me.”
“But they are useful for everyone else.”
“Yes, but…” You gently squeezed his leg. Viktor used his free hand to take yours.
“I understand,” he murmured as he watched his fingers lace between yours. “We will both be just fine. Your concern is endearing, but it will cloud you in your studies. Make Hextech your top priority, and my health will be right there with it. And with me, lásko, always comes you.”
dividers used: clouds • scribble
#thank you for reading!#viktor#arcane#viktor arcane#viktor fic#arcane fic#viktor x reader#x reader#fluff
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dark!joel miller dbf that comforts innocent!reader when she’s feeling lonely and sad but he can’t control himself and he coerces/manipulates her into him using her to relieve himself. pet names, condescending joel, breeding kink, the works 🫶🏼
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: This might be my darkest filth to date. Thanks to anon for making me explore this side… it is definitely one of my favorite things to read, so let’s see if I’m good at writing it.
Summary: Joel, your dad’s best friend, finds you in your room crying and wants to comfort you.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con, pet names, innocence kink, age gap, clit stim, dirty talk, piv sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, dad’s best friend
Word count: 3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48393787
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When Joel enters your parents’ house, he is surprised to find the door unlocked, but with no one inside. He calls out for your father then, moments later, your mother, before realizing that no one is going to answer.
It’s only when he is about to leave again that he notices your annoyingly cute shoes by the front door. He smiles, unaware that you would be on a visit to your hometown this weekend. It also means that he can start his search for the keys to the car that he has agreed to lend over the next couple of days.
… but they’re nowhere to be found, and the thought of you being somewhere in the house makes a manhunt seem more fun. He could ask you, he decides, yes, a very good idea.
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand as you hear the first knock on your door. It is a frantic movement that serves no purpose except to make your face seem even redder with how much pressure you use to remove the tear streaks as well.
“Come in,” you say nonchalantly, turning on your spinning chair to face the door with a brave face.
Joel presses down the handle and gently pushes the door open. He sticks his head inside, “Hey sweetheart, didn’t know you were home from college. I’m just tryna find the car keys. Your old man said they’d be—“
He notices your red face and his brows knit together in parental concern. He walks into your childhood bedroom and closes the door behind him, “How’s college treatin’ ya? Made any friends?”
Your bottom lip trembles a little. Joel thinks it might be the saddest and most precious thing he has ever seen, wanting to snap a picture of the pouty face you are making as you try to stop yourself from crying.
“It’s horrible, Joel,” you confess and the tears start spilling uncontrollably, “I feel awkward. Out of place and boring—“
“Hey,” Joel immediately strides across the room, a pang in his stomach telling him to soothe you, “What’re you talking about?”
“I feel less lonely alone in my childhood bedroom,” you let out a little laugh as you cry, but Joel just wipes a few tears from your eyes, and you help him by catching the ones threatening to drip down from your chin. It’s a nice little gesture to feel him soothe you, and you lean into the touch for just a moment to acknowledge what he is doing.
“Kiddo,” he tuts, watches you rest your hands in your lap as he cups your face. It gives him the opportunity to slide his hand down your cheek to hold your chin with his thumb and index finger. He tips your head back to gain eye contact with you, “You’re a smart girl. Anyone would be lucky to have ya barging into their lives. Just gotta do it. No need to cry.”
“Easy for you to say. I never had to win you over,” you try to stifle the sob that’s going to spill from your throat, but it comes out in a croak anyway.
Joel’s face softens even more. He wants to do whatever he can to make you stop crying, deciding to hold out his arms, “C’mere, kiddo.”
You get up from your seat at the desk and step into his arms, letting your forehead rest against his shoulder and your arms along your sides. He chuckles slightly, chest rumbling a little, and kisses the top of your head, “Attagirl. There, there.”
You don’t register the flip of a switch inside of him before it is too late, starting with the sniff of your hair that sets off something primal in Joel. It’s vanilla. Dumb, innocent, Girl Scout-esque vanilla. You smell like fucking vanilla, and the sweetness has him inhale deeply as he realizes that he has been holding his breath.
It makes the sweet scent fill his nostrils once again, and, unsurprisingly, has him hard within mere seconds. He pokes into your thigh, and you look down with a loud gasp and the redness in your cheeks isn’t caused by crying anymore.
“Joel,” you sound confused, unable to find a proper way to respond to the situation.
Joel makes a decision then. He lets his arms unwrap from you and reaches down to undo your jeans, fumbling only for a moment with the button until getting to the zipper.
“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen. Even moreso when he sticks a hand in your pants.
“Nothing, I’m just tryna make you feel better, sweetheart,” he replies, smiling softly at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as they’ve darkened with lust. When he swipes his fingers over your clit, your gasp turns into a moan and you grab onto him. Joel is in heaven, “There we go. Ain’t that better?”
“We shouldn’t—“ you argue, but Joel’s fingers grind harder against your clit, and heat starts to rise between your legs.
“Shhh, shut up for a second and let yourself enjoy this. Betcha stupid college boys can’t make you come like I will in just a moment.”
You moan a little louder, shaking your head both to answer his postulate and to tell him to stop, “But Joel… Ah.”
Joel knows he shouldn’t, but you were waltzing around in a bikini this summer, and he hates you for growing up to be such a fine young woman. He cannot stop thinking about you in the red one with high legs, barely covering your ass and sending an old dog like himself to fuck his hand in his best friend’s bathroom. He deserves this after all this time.
His fingers move back and forth between your legs, expertly closing in on your climax with each swipe and you hold onto him for dear life. Your hips buck as you come, and he can feel a slight gush on his digits as your legs start to shake.
“Good girl,” he praises, slowing down his touches until your high passes. Only then, he retracts his hand and watches the dazed look upon your face.
It takes a few moments before you realize what has just taken place, drunk on being touched by a handsome man. Quickly, you reach to button your pants again, but Joel lays a hand on top of your wrist. Your doe eyes nearly have him toppling over.
“Joel, we cannot do shit like that,” you whisper despite no one being there but you and him.
“Language,” he reprimands without hesitation, “Turn around.”
You make yourself a little taller, but cannot hide the blush on your face, indicating your heart rate, “I mean it.”
“Turn around,” he reaches under your hand and curls his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, and you respond by looking down, “S’my turn.”
“Fuck, Joel— dad’s gonna murder you,” you continue your whisper.
“Your daddy ain’t here right now,” Joel yanks at your jeans hard to turn your around. He kicks the spinning chair to the side, so he can push you down over your childhood desk and nearly make you knock over its pink lava lamp.
The pulsing between your legs returns. You look at him over your shoulder, curling your toes in your socks as the anticipation of what is about to happen hits you. You know that you should fight it, and you make a last effort to stop him, but it isn’t very convincing.
“It isn’t right.”
“You don’t want to leave me hard enough for your precious daddy to see, do ya? Or do ya wanna get me in trouble?” Joel reveals what he is doing behind you when you hear the buckle of his belt. The metal hits your carpet with a clink, “Answer me so I know if you’ll fuck me over.”
“N-no, of course not, never,” you stutter, already reaching to pull your jeans down now that Joel never allowed you to button them again. Joel wants to bite down on his fist, watching the blue and pink Superman panties reveal themselves. It’s all so perfectly innocent and he is going to ruin you by putting his cock in you.
Joel knows you’re not a virgin; has seen you getting picked up by some boy with a shitty car a few times. It’s fine. It makes this easier, to just be relentless, even if he wishes that he’d been the one to show you the ropes, wondering briefly if the stupid boy has ever made you come like he will. No matter what, he is sure that no one has ever made you come that fast.
“Was it so hard to give in?” Joel eventually asks, pushing his own jeans and then briefs down over his hips, settling them around his knees. You shake your head, mirror him by tugging at your panties, showing off your wetness by slowly pulling to reveal the way they stick to your cunt.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, cock twitching without even having touched you. He watches the light trickle of wetness seep from your pussy, glistening right before his eyes to invite him in. It takes all his willpower not to stuff you to the brim right then and there, “That all for me?”
You look back at him again, nodding slowly with your bottom lip between your teeth. You know this isn’t right but there’s nothing that could stop you from doing this when you’re this horny, this curious to know if he’ll even fit.
“Eyes front, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you real good,” he promises, watching you obey prettily and rest your tits on the Hello Kitty computer mat.
“Please, put it in,” you whine, spreading your legs a little.
Joel lazily grabs his cock between his thumb and forefinger, takes a step closer toward you and nudges the thick head between your folds. He steadies his heartbeat with a slow breath, exhaling heavily as he starts to enter you. Fuck, he knows this will have the capability of ruining his life forever if anyone finds out but when you whimper at his size, he knows that he is done for; nothing will ever be enough again after feeling the tight grip of your young and inexperienced cunt.
“It’s not going to fit,” you tell him with slight panic to your voice, hands coming up to grab whatever you can but only the surface is safe. You are already panting from the pulsing of your walls, body resisting him just slightly. You want to tell him that you haven’t been fucked in months, and that you’ve never been with someone his size, girth stretching your aching cunt until your body feels feverish, “I’ve never been… Please, Joel, Mr. Miller. I—“
“Fuck you calling me Mr. Miller like your cunt didn’t just squeeze down on me when you said it,” Joel growls. He moves forward without warning, bottoming out inside of you and making you keen loudly as you feel him bump into your cervix. It hurts. Your nails dig into the wood, mouth opening in a silent shout.
“You never been what? With a man?” Joel continues, the real man is implied. A soothing hand comes to rest on top of the small of your back, acknowledging the pain that he has caused for just a moment before reaching to grab your hips with both hands.
You suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut as you wait for the first thrust. Joel pulls back only slightly then settles inside of you again with a brutal force, thinking that you might as well get used to it quickly so that there’s no rush to finish the job if your father arrives home. He does realize that this is a possibility at any given moment. It makes him jerk inside you.
After that, he starts a pace that has little consideration for you. He will take what he has wanted since the beginning of summer, thrusting harshly into you and making the desk slam against the wall until you are a moaning mess underneath him. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, especially when his dick slides over that little spot inside of you that you’ve never felt anyone be able to do before.
“Fuck,” you gasp loudly, clenching once as the nudge inside of you sends signals to your clit. It throbs like before, ready to be touched again but you don’t dare let go of the wooden desk in case you topple off onto the floor.
“You don’t fucking swear or I’ll tell on you to your daddy,” one of his hands slide up to hold onto the back of your neck. He leans over you, goes impossibly deeper.
“Sorry, it-it’s just…” you whine, struggling a little against his grip but eventually managing to look back at him like earlier. It causes his fingers to dig into your cheek instead of your neck, “No one’s ever—“
He can see you struggling to stop yourself from cussing again, making him smirk as he breathes raggedly into the very pink room. He holds your gaze, ignoring the family photos on the wall in front of him, “Never what?”
“Fucked me like this, ah, made me want to co— Joel, made me want to come again,” you blurt out and squeeze your eyes shut again at a particularly hard thrust. You moan loudly, now also standing on your tippy toes because Joel’s hips are so strong that he is about to lift you off the ground a little.
The hand on your neck and cheek slips around your head, covering your mouth to stop you from swearing once again. He wishes he had time to teach you a lesson. His fingers dig into the corners of your mouth, and you fight the urge to bite down to feel just a bit of relief from the tension building up in the pits of your stomach, tugging from inside towards your touch-starved clit whenever he thrusts against your g-spot.
“If you can’t use your words properly without spitting filth,” he says firmly despite his slowly crumbling facade, balls tightening as his climax builds just like yours, “Then you don’t get to talk at all, baby girl. Gotta save whatever pieces of your daddy’s girl I can now that I know you take cock like this. My cock. Bet you want me to come inside too, huh?”
You groan and nod, salivating into Joel’s palm. It shouldn’t turn you on, but the idea of him spilling inside of you and the fear of what could come next… it sends a thrill shooting up your spine. Testing the waters, you push back into him and the noise that it pulls from the back of his throat is worth a tacky porcelain dolphin shattering on the floor.
With the splintering of the little figurine, Joel’s hand on your mouth pushes into you harder and he eventually has you upright. You still have both palms on your desk, arms stretched to help Joel keep you from falling over again. The front of your thighs burn as the edge of the table digs into them, creating a red line across them with each forceful move of Joel’s hips.
You say something, but it’s muffled. Yet Joel guesses right without any explanation, hand on your hip coming around your front to find your clit and using two fingers to coax your orgasm closer. You feel a fire pool between your thighs, eyes rolling back into your skull as you near the edge.
When you come, Joel groans along with you. He feels your pussy starting to pulse around his length, each drag of your walls sending him dangling on the brink of his own little death. He speeds up, lets go of your mouth to grip the edge of the desk and slam into you.
“Gonna fill up that sweet cunt, watch you panic when you get bred like a slut,” he says through gritted teeth, and you wail as you try to get his hand away from your over sensitive nub that he has yet to let go off. He rubs you in earnest, has you screaming as he forces another high out of you that sucks him harder into you and makes him come inside of you.
He will never admit how turned on the idea of you being late next month has you, but he makes sure that you milk every damn drop of his release with little care of the future horror it might bring.
That’s when the sound of a door opening and closing sounds from downstairs. It sends you into an absolute panic, pushing back into him and Joel grunting, but then pulling out of you hurriedly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swear despite what he has just told you, pulling up your underwear and jeans without any consideration for Joel’s come eventually making a mess of them. You should pee, wash yourself and splash cold water onto your face to cover up what you have just done but there’s no time.
Joel dresses as well beside you. He seems a little calmer, but he can feel his heart nearly beating out of his chest. This was a bad choice. A really, really bad decision from his side. He would apologize if he felt sorry though.
Quickly, the both of you descend from the stairs and into the kitchen. Your father is there, a puzzled look on his face as he sees the two of you together.
“Hey,” you try to sound cool and collected, “Mr. Miller just came over to borrow the car keys but we couldn’t find them.”
“Shit, was that today?” Your dad goes around the kitchen island and into the hallway. He fishes out the keys from a bowl on the side table in there, “Sorry, Joel. I coulda sworn it was tomorrow.”
“No problem,” he holds his hands up in surrender, showing no harm inflicted, “I’ll be back later tonight.”
“Here ya go.”
“Thanks,” he catches them as your dad throws them across the kitchen, “See ya later.”
He leaves without any more words, but he also leaves you with a shame that you never thought you could feel as you feel his come slide out of you and into your panties. You don’t even hear your dad asking you the first time about what you want for dinner.
.
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#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#the last of us#joel x reader#joel x you#my writing#pedro pascal characters#joel miller smut#pedro pascal smut#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo#joel the last of us#joel tlou#asks#dbf!joel
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I'm making this post purely to shout out some incredibly talented fanfic writers from the Hazbin Hotel fandom and my favorite works of theirs.
Did anyone ask me for this? No. Will I post it anyway? Absolutely. The writers in this fandom are too good.
The first fanfic writer I want to shout out is @prince-liest (ao3 link)
I absolutely love their get cared for idiot (Alastor) series (not the official name but they called it that in one of their asks jokingly so it's now the default in my head).
Knock, Knock! It's Your Worst Fucking Nightmare! (this fic gets it!!!! This is what I meant when I said Alastor is growing a heart and part of him is raging against it. He still has ulterior motives and a massive amount of pride and part of him feels like that growing fondness is getting in the way, but he can't stop it. I need to stop before this becomes a long ramble. I've written a couple thousand words on this idea, but this fic is just a better use of your time than any meta I could ever write and way more entertaining :D )
Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy
The Last Bus Stop in Hell, Now Boarding (Please look at the tags for content warning. Angel and Alastor body swap story.)
They're amazing at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor where there's a heart in there (really deep) and he's unintentionally growing attached to the hazbin crew, but he doesn't lose his edge. He's still manipulative and an asshole and can easily be the scariest guy in any room. He's in hell for a reason. A+ characterization at all times.
They're so good at writing the complicated dynamics he has with the residents, especially Charlie, and I enjoy how they expand on Alastor's potential dynamic with Angel Dust.
Anything they write from Lucifer's POV is gold too! My favorites are:
Take Two and Leave a Voicemail!
The Care and Keeping of Homo Angelus
I am also 100% here for their Aro!Alastor agenda and I'm enjoying their fic I Love Her, I Love Her Not so far!
The second person I want to shout out is @grayintogreen (ao3 link)
Their series Red Roses and Dead Things consistently gut punches me.
Just like Princeliest, they are also fantastic at balancing on that razor's edge with Alastor. A+ characterization for everyone and I love how they write HuskerDust. It's so soft, especially in the aftermath fic for Learn that Even Death May Die called If My Love Is Tomorrow, I've Forgotten Yesterday (that fic hurt in the best way).
The way they explore the aftermath of Learn that Even Death May Die is incredibly impactful. They capture the unique grief that comes from the reality that there are some things you won't get closure for so well that it's painful.
I can't say enough good things about their series. Genuinely go read it.
I found @lediz-watches (ao3 link) before the first season of Hazbin Hotel dropped (I've been a fan of the hellaverse for a few years now and have been enthralled with the Hazbin Hotel pilot since I first watched it in 2020) and I really enjoy their fics.
My favorite is Suffering Kindness. I love the Charlie and Alastor dynamic they explore in this story. I think I'm just a sucker for the Charlie and Alastor dynamic in general, but this fic hits all the right notes for me. (written pre-season 1 but man is it good. 100% recommend)
LeDiz also has a lot of one-shots/collections of one-shots that are very fun.
The Cure for Inexorable Boredom
Dollface (one-shots about Alastor theories. My favorite is the 3rd one. So fascinating!)
Choice Words (one of the few explorations of Alastor and Vaggie's dynamic that I've found in the fandom)
Don't Say It
I have to shout out @ckret2 (ao3 link) and their phenomenal fic You’ve Got a Face for Radio. This is such an amazing aroace!Alastor fic. (Embarrassingly it was this fic that made me realize I was most likely aroace myself. I’d had fleeting moments of suspecting it but it wasn’t until I saw my experiences laid out in a character explicitly written to be aroace that I put the puzzle pieces together. -_- some of these passages were too relatable.) I cannot express how much I love this fic.
I also like their fics Dumpster Baby and Bitter Grapes.
I have one last writer I want to mention because this is getting really long (whoops). The last one is tiredoflofteranditsshit and their Assume He Has a Heart series (because my favorite character and how I interpret them was not obvious enough already with the fics/authors I've recommended. I had to make it more obvious).
These fics are massive (17k and 26k words) and so much fun. Definitely worth the read. Yet another series that follows up season 1 and explores Alastor’s growing connections and how he lies to himself and pushes against it. Love this series and there’s a lot to sink your teeth into :D
#hazbin hotel#Hazbin hotel fics#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#angel dust#husk#huskerdust#charlie morningstar#I love all of these fics#these writers are all so talented
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Hazbin Hotel - Alastor Scenario Dump
One of my friends requested I make more of these, so I guess I'm doing a series. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Like before these are just a bunch of story ideas I've had pop into my head that I have no plans to use. Feel free to use them, just link back/credit me and slap me with a tag because I wanna see what you write!! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
My other work can be found on my masterlist >>HERE<<
Contents/WARNINGS: ANGST; stalking; abuse of Alastor's shadows; heavily implied voyeurism and other creepy shit; (most of these warnings are for the last prompt so if your bothered by any of this, just skip that one) Actual brainrot below the cut; Not beta read we die like men -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Ringing Hollow ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Basic idea is that Alastor ends up caving to Charlie/the hotel and getting a cellphone. Everyone insists he needs it in case there is an "emergency", especially after the whole Exterminator attack on the hotel.
So he relents. As much as Alastor hates to admit it; they are right. But he isnt going to get any of that smartphone crap. Alastor opts to get himself an actual flipphone. (Angel Dust questions how Alastor even managed to find the piece of junk) Its only for emergencies. He should barely be using it, if at all.
But things change one day when Alastor gets several messages from an unknown number thinking he is their close friend. Alastor does end up telling them that they have the wrong number, but you know, being Alastor, he has to tease them relentlessly first.
They actually end up talking for a bit. Both of them find the situation incredibly entertaining and surprisingly like each other's sense of humor. The reader ends up asking who they actually texted. Alastor panics a bit. He doesn't want to just tell some stranger that they just messaged the radio demon of all people.
No matter the case, Alastor doesn't want to give his real name. So he wracks his brain for something that wont give him away. He cant just use Al, that's too obvious. Wait... Alastor-Al-A...A... A-nonymous? Anon? Yeah. Anon could work.
(This is Alastor's own line of thinking of how he 'came up' with the name. The boomer has no idea this is actually a common internet pseudonym because I doubt he has ever touched a computer)
Anyway, Alastor ends up telling the reader to call him Anon. The two of them end up talking alot. The rest of the hotel finds it rather comical to see the radio demon on his phone texting someone with a grin on his face.
Alastor actually gets pretty fast at texting with his stupid flipphone. Eventually, under Angel's suggestion, Alastor does end up "upgrading" to one of those phones with the slide out keyboard. He still draws the line at smartphone.
But everyone finds the whole thing rather adorable. Charlie always giggles to Vaggie about how soft his eyes get whenever he sees a new text from the reader. Rosie teases him nonstop about his 'paramour' and ends up suggesting that Alastor try to meet them in person.
At the first thought of it, Alastor's stomach drops. He still hasn't actually told them who he is. But the more he thinks about it, the more Alastor thinks a meeting between them is inevitable. He has never felt this way about anyone before; and he needs to deal with it one way or another.
So Alastor arranges an in person meetup. However, he STILL doesn't actually tell the reader who he is. He plans it as a surprise. The purpose of this is twofold; Alastor thinks this will be a wonderful surprise (he is the fantastic radio demon after all!), and it will serve as a test to see if the reader actually likes him.
The secret third reason is that Alastor is actually scared of what the reader's reaction will be and is avoiding it until the ninth hour when he literally cannot anymore. But he would rather die then admit that.
The reader asks Alastor what he looks like and other, you know, obvious things they should know for when they meet. But Al dodges the questions and tells them that they will know everything and learn who he truly is when they finally meet.
Well the time comes. The reader shows up to the designated meeting place, a semi public location. Then they see him. The Radio Demon.
The reader's eyes meet his and they freeze in terror as he approaches them with a knowing, determined stride. They are mortified when Alastor kisses them on the back of the hand; calling them darling and confessing that he was the one who they had been talking to all along.
The reader backs off, stuttering an apology and a half hearted excuse to leave before quickly running off. Alastor’s smile never wavers. But it can be seen in his eyes and the way his ears have flattened against his head that he had hoped for a better reaction.
Alastor makes his leave before he can embarrass himself further. When he goes to text an apology, his number has already been blocked. He swears he feels a foreign pain in his chest in that moment.
✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿
Mockingbird ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Alastor begins fall in love with the reader. Driven by his strange feelings, he starts to compose little songs that he hums/sings to himself. The songs are inspired by the things he likes about them, things that make him think of the reader, and ways he sees their presence improving the hotel.
There is even a special one dedicated specifically to their laughter. A tune that he made to resemble how melodic he finds it.
Charlie and Vaggie start to notice Alastor singing to himself all the time. How his eyes soften and his smile turns wistful as he sings. Its how they realize that, holy shit, the guy has fallen in love.
They think that the songs are how Alastor is choosing to ‘deal’ with his feelings and that he is using them as an outlet. Not realizing he is composing them himself.
So other then like the weird love singing to himself there really aren't signs of Alastor having a crush, especially not one on you. So it kinda becomes like this big mystery that Charlie is determined to solve. Charlie holds a 'top secret meeting' and drags the rest of the hotel into it. Who has Alastor fallen for?? She will find out dangit.
I also have the image of at least one of the songs being composed entirely in French. So like Alastor finds the reader asleep at some point, maybe they fell asleep on him or they fell asleep somewhere out of exhaustion, but either way, Alastor ends up singing the song he composed for them while they sleep.
Alastor gently picks you up and cradles you to his chest. Singing all the while. He takes you to your room and tucks you in, singing the song as if it were a lullaby. The reader half wakes up at some point and hears him, but cant understand the words.
✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿
Chasing Shadows ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
Basically a really sweet girl checks into the hotel. Maybe she just has that southern belle vibe or reminds Alastor of his mama or whatever; but the point is he has an immediate soft spot for her.
Anyway Alastor quickly picks up how guarded and almost paranoid she is. Her eyes always seem to be darting around or looking into the distance for something. Although she is quick to help others, she dashes anyone elses attempts to help her. Alastor finds it very odd.
Then Alastor’s shadows start reporting of ‘incidents’ happening around the hotel, mostly around the new guest. Her things going missing, gifts and letters being left outside her door if not outright in her room, and the one that pissed Alastor off the most was one of the shadows saying they even found a small camera had been placed in her room.
Alastor isnt stupid; he knows someone is stalking the poor girl. And he is seething. Part of it is anger and outrage at someone daring and succeeding at breaching his territory of the hotel, and the other half of his anger is at such a disgusting creature thinking that they are entitled to treat a woman this way.
Alastor quickly puts more shadows around the new guest's room, having every entrance and exit watched for the intruder. Yet the stalker manages to slip by him again, leaving a bouquet of flowers as well as stealing a pair of undergarments.
Alastor nearly kills the poor shadow that informs him of this. How could they let someone slip past them again??
You got the gist of how this story goes. Ive had this sitting in my ideas folder forever cause I love it alot but, realistically speaking, Im not going to write it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ So either someone else can use it or you can just brainrot about it with me.
The big twist is the demon that is stalking the new guest has the power to turn into/manipulate cockroaches. That's how they are able to traverse the hotel so easily and undetected.
Wasn't sure if I wanted to go all in on that and make him an actual roach boy or not. You could also make the demon a Jewel Wasp which is a bug known specifically for mind controlling cockroaches.
Since the stalker is cockroach themed, I also had the idea floating around that Niffty would be the one to finally catch them in the end.
I was picturing the relationship between the new guest and Alastor to be strictly platonic; with like big brother/dad protection vibes. Basically Alastor just wants to protect someone who he sees as a ‘lady’ from a disgusting man. Its his southern trauma kicking in hard
#the last one could be like a whole story or series#but man#Im not writing that#I do not have the energy nor time#so just throwing the idea into the world#but please tell me if you use it#I want to see your roach boy#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel alastor fluff#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor angst#hazbin hotel alastor x you#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor fluff#alastor angst#hazbin alastor angst#hazbin alastor fluff#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x you#hazbin hotel prompts#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel angst
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GEN Z READER IN TASK FORCE 141 HC + könig!! PT 2
A/N: You guys are so sweet!! Thank you for the support on the first part of Gen z! Reader series/ Daffodil series, it seriously means a lot! And since I saw someone ask for König I decided to add him too, our baby deserves some love too! And again if anyone has codename ideas please tell me because I am still considering changing Daffodil to something else!
Warnings: Dark humour, Suicide jokes, simping, swearing, mentions of parents leaving the reader, basically gen z stuff, usual CoD violence, wholesome family stuff,
Character(s): Soap, Gaz, John, Ghost, Price, könig x Gn! reader (Mention of Laswell and Graves)
Codename: Daffodil
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
It had been a couple months since you joined the task force and met your boys and they are happy you are with them, and despite being thick-skinned and having a very fucked humour you can get emotional at times.
One time you got upset over something and hugged the closes person to you.
It was Ghost.
And surprisingly he didn't mind, he understood that you were still young and needed comfort. So he gave you comfort that he never got properly when he was younger.
But once you told Ghost that you loved him which caught him off guard and made him stay away from you for a bit to process what you said.
Of course you told him you loved him through texts but hearing you say it was a whole other story.
The others get this treatment too.
Even if you're not upset you'll randomly say that you love them, which they find sweet but they all were caught off guard at first by the sudden burst of affection.
But they got used to it!
But there was one thing they weren't getting used to, your jokes.
Price swears he can feel himself get grey hair every time he hears one of your 'jokes'.
They even came up with a very...odd name for them: "Dil Humour"
When they first started saying the little inside joke you looked at them like they said something horrible.
"Excuse me?? Dil humour????"
"You know ill but instead of ill it's dil from Daffodil- No?.."
"Stop..."
To say the least you were not impressed and you were sure Price came up with it.
But you still loved them anyways.
Even with that ugly hat.
You swear he committed a war crime by just wearing it but he lets you wear it just to spite you. Aw.
You made a Spotify playlist for all your boys and continuously added songs to them until you're ready to share it with them.
One time Gaz caught you adding songs to Soap's playlist and tried to peek over your shoulder.
"What are you doing."
"Your mom"
"Never mind.."
And you may or may not have made one for König.
I mean who could blame you?!
When you first saw the man you were in the mess hall eating with your boys, sitting in between Ghost and Soap, minding your own business until you saw the newest love of your life.
You started to choke while slamming the table with a red ass face.
And you bet that Ghost was the first one to slam his hand onto your back while Soap sat wide-eyed at what just happened.
Before any of your boys could say anything you were looking around like a hawk and getting up to talk to König.
To say the least your boys were in shock and stayed that way until you came back minutes later with a huge smile on your face.
"I GOT A NEW BAE"
"Shh..." (🧼)
"I got a new bae!"
"Oh yeah?" (🧼)
"Fucking what." (💀)
(that one unas anus moment)
And after a while you started sending König so many heart locket gifs of him and a lot of bear memes.
You don't what it is about the guy but he is GIVING bear.
Anyways you love this man to pieces and will always try your best to control yourself and not say any suicide jokes around him.
But you can control yourself so much.
The first ever time König heard you threaten to shoot yourself his eyes widened.
The poor thing was worried for you since all he's ever seen of you was sunshine and memes.
He would just place his hands on your shoulders and make you look him in the eyes as he asks if you're okay and if you ever need to talk you can always go to him.
You sometimes go training with him too and you couldn't stop fawning over how strong he was in your head.
And speaking of training, you also go train with your boys too.
There was one time, Soap was doing push ups and he thought it would be fun to have you sit on his back.
And who were you to say no to that.
Although sometimes you go to the 141 group chat and send memes.
Gaz is always the first to respond.
Always.
Gaz: Where did you find this??
Foap: Daffo this isn't funny
Price: Kid
Gaz: Aren't you two supposed to be training
Price: Where are you both
Baby gril: Is that me?
Soap or whoever is training you always end up finding you when you send jokes like those and make you work extra hard during train with him which makes you cry internally.
Speaking AGAIN of your humour one time you were fighting off one of the enemies and he landed quite a hard punch on you, cutting your cheek in the progress, but once the boys showed up the guy was dead and most of his blood was on your hands. Literally and figuratively.
There was no way of telling which one of the boys came up to you first but they definitely kept asking about your cheek.
"Are you sure you're okay soldier?"
"Yeah I'm sure, my dad hit harder anyway-"
"Daffodil."
They weren't happy with what you said, especially Price
OH
Your boys will never forget the day when they found out that you couldn't drive.
At first everything was a blur, it was during a mission and you all had to fall back, and you somehow got into the driver's seat while Price, Ghost and Soap were in the back while Gaz got in the passenger's seat.
Ghost would have a bullet in his arm while Price and Soap shouted at you to go.
You floored it.
The sudden action made Soap hit his head against the car wall while Gaz and Price were yelling at you to stop.
"YOU SHOULD'VE LEARNT THIS WHEN YOU WERE IN TRAINING."
" JUST GIVE ME THE WHEEL!"
"DEADASS MIGHT THROW UP"
"DAFFODIL-"
They vowed they would never let you drive again until someone teaches you.
You were just bored one day so you beelined your way to Gaz's room and slammed yourself onto his bed.
Of course Gaz was shocked once he saw you enter his room but soon got on with whatever he was doing.
And just like Price, he would never tell you to get out of his room unless it was super important and would just talk with you about random things and let you vent to him.
Somehow you always end up getting all sentimental and it's just really sweet in the end.
Soap sings in the shower.
And Lord have mercy if you hear him you will ALWAYS join in and vice versa.
You two are a power duo.
There was this one time you convinced Ghost and Price to go catfishing with you on a dating app with your phone.
Their names were Gina and Fraincesca and it was very chaotic.
One time one of the people that matched with them started texting your phone during a meeting with Laswell and Graves and since it was going nowhere you checked one of the messages to see a voice message and then-
"Hey baby gorl."
"I'm going to actually kill myself, I will shoot myself right now it's not funny, I have a letter under my bed guys Imma go-"
"Daffodil."
Soap and Gaz still won't let you live properly after that no matter how much Price and Laswell tell them to stop.
Meanwhile Ghost and Grave would just act like nothing happened.
But even after what happened and the relentless teasing Soap and Gaz would do they still cared.
Live, Love, Laugh guys.
Requests: Closed
(Part 3 coming soon and also a one-shot!)
Tag list:
@agspgrwasb
@hwrtsiren
@red-plaidedandcladed
@justmare
@bitchigoteverythingissues
#ghost mw2#mw2 141#price mw2#gaz mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#soap mw2#ghost x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#x gen z reader#mw2 fanfic#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfiction#cod x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain john price x reader#mw2 headcanons#konig mw2#konig x reader
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hello, my lil smut for ch 10 enthusiasts!
i know most of you are here for porn without plot, with little to no care about the plot, but let me get something very straight to you: ellie has mentioned before that kickoff is a slow-burn, it’s in tags too (cue: go check them out).
you might be wondering what a slow burn is (i fully believe you have slow comprehension skills, it’s fine, i myself am dyslexic), but for your ease here’s a number of definitions of slow burn from google:
A slow burn is when the romantic attraction between characters builds slowly over the course of a novel or series.
— bookriot.com
If something is a slow burn, or if it happens on a slow burn, it develops slowly.
— collinsdictionary.com
The slow-burn genre in movies is typically characterized by deliberate pacing, restrained storytelling, and a gradual buildup of tension and suspense.
— collider.com
Slow burn love is a love that goes beyond the initial spark of attraction — it is, as the name suggests, a kind of love that requires time and attention, but that can also last.
— slice.ca
next time, i would suggest you all should use google to search for terms you do not understand the meaning of, or better yet when you do understand something (which i am sure you do), you must always consider it and the feelings of the writer before you send insensitive asks to them.
moving on, you all are in fact very horny and need to get laid instead of asking ellie or anyone to write you smut. ellie had specified multiple time that kickoff chapter 10 will not have any amount of smut in it. if you want to read smut jjk fandom is very horny there are at least 2000 smuts of gojo satoru on tumblr and ao3 alone, you should read those. very easy to find them.
anyways, here are the reasons why smut in chapter 10 of kickoff is bad idea:
reader is an introvert, she’s not weak, not insecure, she is an introvert. i am not saying introverts don’t hook up because they do so. but reader is not the kind to hook up the first chance she gets.
reader and gojo are not just two people who are lusting after one another, their feelings are both emotionally and sexually very strong for each other and they respect one another a little too much to jump in to fucking each other and ruining their relationship before it even begins. why will it be ruined? because they both have not bonded as much as you all would like to pretend they have.
it is one thing to have sex with a stranger or a friend you find attractive and not let it interfere with your relationship with a person than doing the same with someone you are interested in. when you like someone, there are emotions involved. there is a lot more that satoru and reader need to sort out before they should consider sex.
they want a long lasting relationship with each other, rushing into sex will hinder that, because when you rush into things you do not let them develop with the ease and smoothness that they would have had had unnecessary stress not influenced the they. for a relationship to be successful, the foundation needs to be strong. you do not build a foundation by fucking each other’s brains out but rather by doing other mature stuff like bonding through conversations and emotional and significant gestures.
remember when reader walked out of that washroom leaving satoru with blue balls? remember when satoru refused to touch her when reader when asked him to? yes, you are invalidating their entire personalities by asking them to fuck each other already.
they each have a personality, and neither falls in the bracket of fucking the person they want to spend their lives with without letting the relationship marinate enough to last.
they began fresh in chapter 9, where reader made it very clear that satoru needs to reassure her of his feelings. you are not reading the same fic that most readers are if you think they have been together for a long time now, because trust me the last 4 chapters have been anything but smooth sailing between them. if that is your definition of “been together for a long time”, maybe reconsider the relationships you have in your present lives because it requires revaluation.
when they established starting afresh, it meant they will rebuild their bond, which means that they will need to go back to square one and start to focus on one another in order to strengthen their bond and state their feelings in a more tangible manner.
when ellie wrote this fic, she created an outline of the plot, the events that would take place and their sequence; you expressing your disappointment will do nothing but demotivate her and it will definitely not make her write that smut for you.
this is ellie’s fic, and the plot in her fic does not allow her to write smut in chapter 10. done.
a bonus:
if you’re asking reader to make gojo jealous maybe consider the fact that they have indeed established semi-exclusivity, and in order to build the foundation of a relationship you need to act petty like pulling cheap stunts to make the other person jealous.
i need you to realise that kickoff is a rather realistic, non-toxic piece of fiction where two people who are into each other are not going to fuck before reassuring the other of their feelings.
wait patiently, and the good will come to you. if you can’t do so and would prefer to send ellie hate, send in passive aggressive messages to make her characters have sex, or give her backhanded compliments disguising your demand for the couple to fuck, you should:
use your creativity, your knowledge of english and write a smutty fic.
go ahead and read one of thousands of other gojo smut.
stay quiet and keep your opinion to yourself, kickoff is free for you. ellie is not your provider, she is sharing the fic with you. if you want her to do something that desperately, negotiate a commission.
anyways, kickoff has healed me.
some of you loudmouthed ones may not care about plot, just the smut, but most of us are here for the plot. we like the plot, we like knowing what’s going on in the lives of the characters. we enjoy their lives, we grieve their loses. let the experience be fun for us and ellie, and leave if you cannot behave in a civil manner.
the only things that’s acceptable of you readers are constructive criticism and love. if you don’t have either of it to give, kindly quieten yourself and close the tab. leaving the fic would be easier than being frustrated over it.
apologies for the mistakes, the ask was written and sent in absolute rage over a small fraction of you very insensitive people.
💌🫶🏼
flowie, i could cry. seriously idk how you manage to know my own story more than i do LOOOL but i swear every time that you reflect so deeply on kickoff, it has me in awe and in tears because i just feel so seen by you. and thank you SO much for standing up n making these points, because they are points that i've really wanted to make but was just too scared to, and i feel so safe to see that you've written this out for me in my defense 😭😭😭
those definitions of slow burn had me tearing up so bad idk why sdfkjdshfklj i think because they take slow burn as more than just "oh two characters wait long time to fuck" and make it into something more, and honestly even i needed to have that put into perspective for me! thank you so much :'')
your understanding for my characters 😭😭 i just i canttskfksjdf. i totally agree 100% w all your points, and they completely align w the creative direction i want to take w my story. i KNOW that sex can be spontaneous, and doesn't always need to be goody goody and within the confines of a relationship. i have enjoyed so many stories where sex is wild n toxic n crazy, because i just think it fits the VIBE of that specific story.
but i've tried to show time n time again w kickoff characters specifically that they aren't as inclined to act on their libidos, at least not when they truly care about someone else AND when they're trying to look out for themselves (like the examples you brought up, w reader putting her foot down during the bathroom sex scene. or when gojo refused to touch reader in the hotel room bc he knew that she would regret it in the morning)
i knowww that readers have different perspectives on these scenes, and i LOVE that. there's absolutely no right or wrong way to interpret a scene, because stories are inherently subjective and are meant to be enjoyed that way. i have interpreted scenes in my own favorite stories very differently from maybe what the author had in mind, or what other readers had in mind. but what i find really upsetting about people expecting me to include smut prematurely is that it makes me feel like you're not really reading my story for what is is, and rather you want me to make it into something that YOU want, disregarding all of my other attempts to really try n show my readers who these characters are. if reader was spontaneous or if gojo was careless, and these traits were shown in the story, then maybe i could understand certain expectations, but i've tried to put thought into showing their personalities, and for certain readers to entirely gloss over it and move straight to "SEXSEXSEX" is really disheartening, n yes demotivating for me as well.
there's a difference between "oh my god it would've been so hot if they fucked in that bathroom, but i guess it makes sense why they didn't...can't wait for them to slut each other out eventually tho!!" and sending me a direct ask that just says "i am so disappointed you're not gonna make them fuck in the next chapter, even though you've spent the past two months working on it and it's 80 pgs long and you haven't even released it yet but i'm still going to be passive aggressive n find fault w it because! me want sex!! me want sex!!"
i think deeply about my stories because they are personal to me. it's like journaling essentially LOL. i've mentioned before that kickoff is an ode to a painful situationship i had my first year of college, and i've also mentioned that reader is based off of a very close friend of mine who i love very dearly n i feel so bad that she doesn't believe in herself at times, and i wanted to show her how much i'm rooting for her through my story. i figured, well if i'm going to write a story, might as well share it w others and i'm a horny bitch so of fucking course there's gonna be smut.
like it's a win win situation for everyone i think?? i get to write what i want, i get to share what i want, n i get to entertain my lovely lil readers, n we all get to interact w eachother n make cute lil headcanons n talk about our days, n then we move on w our lives until next time?? why can't it just be like this, lol. i think if some people just really toned down their entitlement, then the writing community as a whole would thrive.
ANWYASY sorry flowie i didn't really direclty respond to your words, kinda went on a rant here, but tbh i think you said everything i wanted to say :'') so thanks bb <33 LOVE YOU SO MUCH
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bts fanfics i think shakespeare and queen elizabeth i would’ve gossiped about.
chapter ii. ✷ chapter iv.
KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:
( ✮ ) — you can’t lie, shakespeare’s got a mouth on him.
( ♬ ) — they’ve ordered everyone out the room. peering through the window as we speak.
( ✎ ) — someone tell him to put that poor teacup down.
( ♛ ) — her majesty royally gasped. she’s clutching her pearls, bless her.
THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.
WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.
NOTE: we’re on part three already? damn, times flies. if you’re new here, welcome to the shakespeare series where i write essays about fics that would absolutely annihilate shakespeare — hence the name. if you haven’t read the past two chapters, you can access them in the masterlist above! let’s get into it.
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( ♛ ) MATILDA — by @babystrcandy
!! yoongi x reader | 141.8k !!
brothers best friend au, angst, fluff, eventual smut.
my therapist would absolutely adore this fanfic. maybe i should recommend it to her. or just send her the link. she’d be thrilled.
this series is dedicated to anyone who felt like the second choice, the one always forgotten about, the so-called disappointment, the people pleaser, the perfectionist, the one whose family has let them down over and over again.
reading this, alike reading anything else, transports you to another world. however, the difference between this one and all others, is this makes you feel safe. secure. a safe place. a sanctuary you never realised even existed, where you feel accepted and loved. it takes the idea of home and really drills it in.
if you find yourself relating to this story, like i did, i want to you to know i see you and i truly hope one day you find everything you were deprived of growing up. you deserve peace. you deserve love.
while you’re at it, go give this author some love for seeing us, listening to us, and validating our experiences. and for writing such a beautiful story.
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( ♬ ) DILF JK — by @venusiangguk
!! jungkook x reader | 85.5k !!
strangers to lovers, dad!jk, friends with benefits, smut (18+), fluff.
if some army’s weren’t such delulu’s and so consumed by the imaginary idea that they’ll one day marry a bts member and live happily ever after, this is the type of shit we’d actually get. but no, we’re forever plagued by fiction because of a few overly obsessed wankers.
rant aside, dilf!jk is a concept. one that needs to be studied and researched for my own personal needs. because i thought dilf!namjoon was dangerous (and he most certainly is), but dilf!jk is a whole other… thing? being? story? i’ll leave that to the researchers.
personally, i love when authors mould fiction and reality into one body. they blend the two concepts together to create something beautiful, and this was duly noted within the topic of the age gap. deciding on something real for the benefit of both parties in a fictional story is so fucking applaudable. or perhaps i’m just an angsty fucker, sorry.
most definitely worth all the tissues and all the cheek aching. talking from experience.
i mean, it’s got ‘dilf’ in the title, is that not enough? it’s what made me click, anyways. i’m a dilf lover through and through.
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( ♬ ) A SERPENT’S FLOWER — by @jimlingss & @dovechim
!! jimin x reader | 34.2k !!
fluff, smut (18+), lil angst, hogwarts!au.
realistically, you knew at some point in this series there would be a harry potter!au thrown in somewhere, didn’t you? i mean, come on now. and i’m so happy this is the first one.
this two-parter and it’s sequel both are both due the respect they deserve. the perfect opposites attract trope? enemies to lovers? with a quick-witted slytherin reader and an even wittier hufflepuff park jimin? fuck me, don’t mind if i do.
i never say a fanfic has everything. but this fanfic has everything. character, romance, humour, angst, wit, the list goes on. it’s a fanfic buffet: it’s got it all, and you just help yourself.
and i realise some people don’t read the sequels to fanfics (i know), but i beg of you. read the sequel too. if anything, i think the sequel was my favourite bit. and i know some people don’t like the pregnancy trope, but i’m telling you there definitely is a time and place for it. and this is the time! and the place! trust me.
did i cry at the end of this fic? i can’t remember. but the probability is higher than i’d like it to be.
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( ✮ ) ZERO GRAVITY — by @luxekook
!! namjoon x hoseok x reader | 11k !!
space!au, poly!au, angst, smut (18+), crack, fluff.
if someone doesn’t drop me on a spaceship with two of the hottest men on the planet in the next fortnight, i’m suing. don’t know who that’ll be yet, but some poor sod will have his hands full, that’s for certain.
i love space!au fics with my whole heart and ass. honestly, every time one comes up on my page, i have to save it. it’s a reflex at this point, they’re just too good. you know what is also too good? the built up tension within this fic. jaw-dropping.
i’m not giving out any spoilers, but the author really said, bonk— here is the nastiest smut you’ve ever read in your life. take it, or get fucked. and of course, i took it. but nothing really prepares you for that atmosphere change. not even the sex club was remotely ready. and it’s a sex club.
not going to lie, before writing this essay, i actually went back and read it again, just to make sure i was in the right mind the first time i read it. and yep, sure was. it’s just shocking how insane this fic is.
btw, anyone fancy a visit to throbbing disco sticks? i need a word with the person who came up with the name. and perhaps a kiss too.
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( ✎ ) NO CHOICE (NEXT TO YOU) — by @gukyi
!! yoongi x reader | 13k !!
college!au, frat boy!au, neighbour!au, enemies to lovers.
miscommunication. my lover in fanfics, my worst enemy in real life. hence why i love this fic so much. because it’s not real life. (unfortunately).
we’ve all done that thing where we’ve accidentally eavesdropped onto something we shouldn’t of and one thing leads to another and boom, you find yourself misreading the whole situation. and you’re lying if you say you haven’t.
well, that’s this fic for you. times a thousand. honestly, enemies to lovers fics never do me wrong. they’re always a joy to read — the thrill and the very, very prominent sexual tension keeps you excited, waiting on the edge of your seat to see how everything plans out.
my point? this fic never bores you out. read it a thousand times and it still feels like the first. and not a lot of fanfics have that power, i’ll tell you that. a few, yes. but not a lot.
don’t take reading this for the first time for granted. wish i had that privilege. jealous.
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( ✎ ) THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA SYNDROME — by @jimilter
!! jimin x reader | 39.4k !!
cursed!jimin, supernatural!au, strangers to lovers!au angst, smut, fluff.
this fic altered my brain chemistry permanently. there’s no going back. i’m officially ruined, you guys. i don’t even know who i was before i read this. it was just- bang, clean slate.
to begin with, i thought ‘this bitch saw him twice and her knees buckled. what the fuck.’ but then i realised that bitch is me, and the so-called him is referring to thee park jimin, so really. i got it. who wouldn’t absolutely power move it after seeing such a sight? i might just jog a little. sprint on a good day.
i would happily write a five thousand word essay for you on how fucking good this plot slash idea was, and an additional ten thousand on how sad, but i don’t think my fingers— nor my mental state would be able to go through that. not again. please.
but as i mentioned in the last fic above, do not take reading this for the first time for granted. however, only because you will lose all rationality.
shakespeare most definitely plagiarised this fic. he wrote it down and her majesty knows. that’s why he looked so proud of himself at tea. the sneaky fucker. just he wait until i tell @jimilter.
sobbing. again. or is this the fourth time?
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( ✎ ) ALWAYS IN MY DREAMS — by @kookskingdom
!! namjoon x reader | 15.4k !!
soulmates!au, fluff, angst, minor character death.
i mean, i already sleep too fucking much. only being able to meet my soulmate through my dreams would just make me comatose. you’d never hear from me. ever.
and yes, you saw the tag. it’s another soulmate!au because everyone knows how much nini loves her hopeless romance. but! who doesn’t. they’re too good to scroll past. so when i finally read this, i knew it was going in the series.
the unknown certainty between the pair of when their next encounter would be with each other, causing them to cherish every single second, that. that’s what i want please. someone who drinks up my existence knowing we will soon part from each other. i cannot.
i love, love, love the concept of soulmates, fate, destiny, whatever. the whole shabang. i bathe in it. so, of course, this fic was a big hit with me. and if that too is your thing, and you love the idea of two souls being intwined inside and out, this is your golden ticket.
@kookskingdom is mentioned in this chapter twice. but can you blame me? you find a ticket to the chocolate factory, of course you’re going to hold onto it as tightly as possible.
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( ✮ ) VOICEMAIL — by @joonary
!! seokjin x reader | 7k !!
fluff, humour, friends to lovers, college podcast!au.
you know those dramas where both the two main characters are so completely smitten with each other to the point you’re practically screaming at your screen for them to “just kiss already!” but won’t because they’re hopelessly oblivious, even though everyone is telling them how in love they both are? yeah, that’s this fic. in a nutshell.
though in their defence, i feel i would definitely do the same. but still, does it stop me from getting frustrated with them? no. i was absolutely raging.
this cute story was so, so sweet i was practically clutching the phone for an emergency appointment to the dentist. my teeth were rotting with all the added sugar, like hello? my teeth? but just like chocolate is, it’s addicting. and you can’t stop yourself.
perhaps i’m just a sucker for friends to lovers fics, but this one particularly caught my attention. it’s 5k of pure infuriation, and 2k of fluff.
but so worth the impatience.
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( ♬ ) FALL IN HATRED — by @jimlingss
!! seokjin x reader | 20k !!
divorce!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+), marriage!au.
first bullet point is just the thought of fuck me, ‘cause where do i start with this?
separation — in some ways — is the easy way out. you just get up and leave. walk out, whatever. boom, just like that. but the emotional repercussions are what make it so distressing. making that daunting decision to leave something— someone in our past, may be one of the hardest things we humans ever have to do.
this fic goes through the rough battle of what it means to be committed to a person. the battles of finally giving up on someone you once thought the world of. and honestly? that may be my worst fear. for someone to love me so deeply, and then lose that over time to see me as nothing more than an inconvenience of their past.
never been through divorce. hopefully you, nor i, will ever have to. but after reading this, i don’t think we have to experience it.
this amazing, yet painfully angsty fic does it for us. and a fucking incredible ending.
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( ♛ ) THE ROAD TO RADIANT — by @kookskingdom
!! jungkook x reader | 25.9k !!
gamer!au, streamer!au, fluff, angst, smut, rivals to friends to lovers!au.
this got a crown on the shakespeare state chart purely for the fact i have never played valorant in my life, and single-handedly managed to impress my friends — who are obsessed with said game — about my newfound knowledge of gaming, purely from this fic alone. felt like a fucking genius.
i was going to add this to part four, but i genuinely had to swap some fics around to put this baby in. i found space for her, so she’s here. and deservedly so. why wait?
this fic does a very good job of highlighting the deep misogyny and sexism that runs within the gaming community towards women. like, can women not be good at gaming too? do people really believe gaming is purely a man thing? is this really the society we live in? yikes.
and if you do happen to read this fic and reach that argument scene with jungkook, please let me know. i want you to know i, too, was absolutely fuming. phones were thrown. naughty words were said. angry voice messages to said best friend were recorded.
final special mention for the smut scene. had me sweating like a sinner in church. lord have mercy.
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( ♬ ) BRASS AND STRINGS — by @jimlingss
!! namjoon x reader | 113.7k !!
slice of life!au, fluff, slow burn, college!au, music!au.
take a shot every time this author is mentioned within this series. you’ll end up blackout pissed. it’s a shame they left this platform, but i hope they’re doing well. their fics have really left an impact on me. and i’ll forever be grateful.
ah, yes. the cheesy clichéd trope of the mean girl and the nerd. a mix of two completely different personalities and flavours that supposedly fit together like two broken pieces of a puzzle. the very foundation of a 2000’s romcom. an iconic pairing that has been hammered into us by the media since day one.
it’s the opposites attract that lured me in initially, but it’s the character development throughout the story that nestled itself into my heart, and got me to stay. this fic holds dear to me still.
i have gatekept this fic long enough, and i am trusting you to bear it with love and extreme care. like you’re holding a small, fragile baby in your arms. do not let me down. please.
one more thing, don’t share this with shakespeare. every time he’s brought it up, i’ve told him it was a really weird dream and he’s only just started to believe me. yes, i feel shit about it, but it has to be done. the man’s a menace.
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( ✮ ) TANGLED WEBS — by @ughseoks
!! jungkook x reader | 14.1k !!
spiderman!au, soulmate!au (yup), angst, fluff.
if any of you say a word about the second tag, i will fight. i will never stop recommending them. me and the soulmates!au are soulmates. irony at its finest.
i genuinely wish spidey!jk was a real adaptation. because even though andrew is my favourite spiderman, i fear there is a large difference between the pair that separates them. andrew can play peter parker. jungkook can (re: could) play peter parker. but could andrew play jungkook? no.
in this fic, the whole characterisation of both jungkook as spiderman and the soulmate!reader is so well written. you can perfectly picture jungkook being that awkward high school boy by day, and secret superhero vigilante by night. i mean, fuck me. how is he not knackered all the time?
mixing in that final zest of soulmates!au everyone (re: me) loves, you’ve got yourself a hell of a plot line.
romeo and juliet were not soulmates, shakespeare. they were children. why aren’t you taking notes? stop talking to the queen. she’s tired of all your bullshit. and so are we.
© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.
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#shakespeare series#bts#bts series#bts x reader#bts fic recs#bts fic rec#fic recs#fic rec#kpop#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fic#bts scenarios#jungkook#namjoon au#taehyung#seokjin fic#hoseok#jiminbts#yoongi#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader
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I was surprised we got another Yuri-focused chapter so soon, considering we just finished the Mole Hunt arc...but it was a good chapter nonetheless!
Chloe is a great character to help with Yuri's development, the reason being because she not only knows his true identity, but she also has known him for many years, as this chapter reveals. Unlike his superiors, Yuri seems more comfortable with Chloe, probably because she doesn't have authority over him, but she's also not afraid to point out his flaws. So yeah, I'm glad she's becoming a reoccurring character. Yuri really needs someone he can talk to with whom he doesn't have to hide anything from, but who also sticks with him despite knowing how cringe his personality is. I do hope we'll see more of Chloe bringing out Yuri's relatable side in the future.
Speaking of which, Twilight has Franky (and Sylvia somewhat) who fills this role for him - someone he can talk freely with who knows his true identity, but they also sense the goodness in him that he tries to hide. Yor, however, doesn't have anyone like this, at least not yet. Olka filled that role well during the cruise arc, but it's very unlikely we'll see her again. While McMahon and Shopkeeper know Yor's true identity, their relationship with her has been very business-like, not casual like Twilight/Franky and Chloe/Yuri. It almost seems like Melinda could fill that role for Yor, except for the important detail that she doesn't know Yor's true identity...OR DOES SHE???
Anyway, back to today's chapter, we find out that Yuri can also withstand getting hit by vehicles, and both siblings can smell/sense the other's presence!? And yet, a slap from Chloe hurt Yuri more than getting hit by a truck?! I would say that's too much, but I guess it's not that unusual for characters in shonen series 😅But I have to agree with Chloe on this line...
I also find it a bit sad that Yuri thinks Yor wouldn't like the idea of him having a girlfriend. I wish they discussed more about this, but it just goes to show that, as close as Yuri and Yor are, there are some very obvious things about each other that they don't know. Of course we as well as Chloe know that Yor would be happy if Yuri is happy with a girlfriend, or any friend really. But to Yuri, it seems like having an intimate relationship equates to not being diligent enough at his job, maybe? Or maybe he thinks Yor would see it as a betrayal of his dedication to her? Either way, he's flat-out wrong about that obviously. Hopefully he'll realize it someday.
I cracked up when we got the glimpse of all the Yor photos in Yuri's house 😂 I hope Anya visits his home one day...would love to see her expression about this! (also he names his attacks after Yor too, I can't 🤣)
Even though Yuri misunderstood what Chloe meant when she told him not to be so reckless, by the end of the chapter he did have a thought on his own about how getting rid of Loid would make Yor sad. Of course he tries to deny that by bringing up the gripes she supposedly had with him, and of course Yor, who's always so flustered about her feelings, can't straight up tell him that she likes/loves Loid. So back to square one I guess...?
But even though this chapter may turn out like the last one and just be a standalone that doesn't lead to the next big arc, I can't help but think it's hinting at a "Yuri discovers who Twilight really is" scenario. For all we know that could be the first identity reveal of the series. It makes sense since, unlike identity reveals among the Forgers, this wouldn't necessarily result in the series heading towards an end. Even if Yuri discovered Twilight's identity, he could choose to keep it to himself for a while and nothing else would change. I don't like to speculate too much, but I feel this is a possibility with all the "Yuri vs Twilight" mentions we've had lately.
As always, just gotta wait and see!
#spy x family#spy family#sxf#spyxfamily#sxf manga#sxf manga spoilers#sxf spoilers#yuri briar#yor forger
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You know what guys…
I just watched this teaser for the final episode, and of course I am thrilled and blown away by Sauron's maniac face telling he is gonna rape his preciousssss eat Galadriel alive
oh fuck help me i can´t
BUT
I still have something to say. Like okay, i get it, all this unspoken sexual tension and stuff between them, and kinda obvious crazy thirst for her in his creepy face - all could be fine by me except the one tiny detail. What we can see more in this teaser is another freaking kiss that is going to happen this time between Isildur and his girl sorry I forgot her name,
so what’s really pissing me off is that so far we would have 4 kisses in the show and basically these are 4 KISSES NO ONE ACTUALLY GIVES A FUCK ABOUT.
1. Harfoots. Who cares about the hobbits kissing scene? Like what the hell was it for? Does someone for real ship them? Was this kiss important to the story?
Fucking NO.
2. Elrond and Galadriel. Totally unnecessary. No one expected this and no one would want this to happen actually. Especially considering the fact he eventually just put the key into her hand without any special use of his mouth required.
Okay I get it can explained he wanted to distract the orcs, but anyway, somehow the writers did came up with this particular idea!
3. Arondir and Bronwin. Totally fine by me except she´s dead now.
4. Now Isildur and Estrid (I remembered the name).
At first I was blind enough watching the teaser to think it was Halbrand so I got a mini stroke.
Pretty sure once we will see Elendil/Miriel kissing too. Of course I do not mind any of these kisses happening, I even ship some of them but still these are not something the whole fandom is waiting for.
There is literally only one kiss EVERYONE is expecting. Not only the haladriel shippers, but everyone (some might want it to happen, some might not, but it would not be a surprise for anyone) since in fact nobody has ever asked for Saurondriel in the first place, it was totally up to the showrunners to literally just start pushing this ship into our throats from their first meeting using all scrupulously planned moments between them throughout the season 1 and countless hints and moments of nostalgia in the season 2! God, they even invented the whole Mirdania character just to prove Sauron´s feelings (and of course to show his cruelty later, but thats not the point)
guess where the kiss should have happened if they hadn't been interrupted
The writers made this ship up consciously and intentionally. THEY HAVE BEEN FEEDING US WITH HALADRIEL SINCE THE BEGINING,
So why the fuck this couple which has always been promoted in such obvious way is the only one that is not likely to get a goddamn kiss?! At this point i would rather believe that even Stranger and Nori would kiss, but not Saurondriel.
This is disturbing. BECAUSE EXCUSE ME WE'LL HAVE TO WAIT 2 MORE YEARS to get the s3. I am not still quite sure though cause there is still no official announcement on s3
So, they all have already messed up enough with the original plot by putting some of the kisses mentioned above in the series, so why just not let also Saurondriel finally happen? What difference would it make anyway? none! all plot holes will all be fixed thanks to impossibility to fix sauron.
I am just fed up with another 'LETS TOUCH THE DARKNESS TOGETHER', "NO NEVER', 'DIE BECAUSE OF ME', BLABLA...
It needs something better to get us screaming and making views to the show.
#the lord of the rings#lotr#the rings of power#sauron x galadriel#sauron#galadriel#elrond#harfoots#arondir x bronwyn#elendil x miriel#isildur x estrid#galadriel x elrond#haladriel#halbrand x galadriel#where is my fucking kiss im dying#trop#trop season 2
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Bestiaryposting Results: Choglaem
First, it seems that Tumblr's search function is flawed in such a way that just searching the tag doesn't actually get all of the results. So if you drew something for this round and it's not in this post, let me know and I'll put it in a reblog. Same applies to previous (and future) rounds.
Anyway, it's now time to look at the results for the Choglaem! Anyone who doesn't know what that means is encouraged to look at previous posts in this series, collected at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .
And here's the link to the entry people are working from:
Now, let's get into it. As before, these are presented roughly in the order that people posted them. (I'm going to go through the tag on Tumblr's regular search, then again on the alternate search method someone suggested, so any that only show up on the alternate source are going to be at the end.)
@embervoices (link to post here) decided to show that the Choglaem is bigger than all living things on the earth by... having it fight Godzilla. Perfect. Inspired. Love it. No notes.
@mobileleprechaun (link to post) has helpfully labelled their drawing for us, which I enjoy. Also the interpretation that the tongue through the blowhole is a lure used by an underwater predator is a good one -- honestly, putting something this large in the water just feels more plausible, you know? In their tags, mobileleprechaun describes this as "sort of a dinosaur snake tsuchinoko", and I had to Google that last one, so let me show you the best result from that ...
(If anyone else needed that word defined, it's a creature from Japanese folklore that does actually look a lot like a fat snake, but I'm pretty sure it's not just a fat snake. There's a (disappointingly brief) Wikipedia article about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tsuchinoko)
Anyway, the drawing is great! I have no idea why Saddam Hussein is there; you'll have to ask mobileleprechaun.
@coolest-capybara (link to post here) has given her Choglaem wings to aid in causing the air to become turbulent. The medieval stylization is pretty dead-on, I have to say; I swear I've seen those trees before. And I think this Choglaem may actually be the closest to the drawing in the Aberdeen Bestiary out of all the submissions we got, so coolest-capybara is clearly quite good at thinking like a medieval artist. The post linked above contains a brief explanation of her design choices and also a link to the medieval illustration that elephant is based on.
@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) has once more done a very realistic-looking depiction of this week's beaſt. According to their post, part of their inspiration was an oarfish -- and I have to say this is pretty believable as a terrestrial version of an oarfish, so well done. I'm impressed by this one, which manages to look cool and dangerous but also kinda cute -- I think the tongue-through-the-blowhole part of the description makes all of them look a bit goofy in an endearing sort of way. The post linked above describes their design decisions, including a brief diversion over round pupils vs. slit pupils in snakes.
Silverhart also mentions that the nonsense-names I'm using sound like the names of mythical animals in a fantasy novel, so I feel I should confess what my process for randomly generating these names was. I've got a Goblin conlang that's been sitting in my pile of works-in-progress for years; I just fed the phonology from that into Zompist's gen program (link here), then picked out several dozen of my favorite results. So that's why they sound like kinda-plausible words.
@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has drawn us a Choglaem who is having problems. Or, I don't know, maybe it meant to knot itself up like that; who am I to judge? Either way I think it's cute. Just look at that face. A brief overview of her design decisions is included in the linked post; I think the chicken crest is a pretty sensible call given the source material.
@pomrania (link to post here) has made some creative choices with their version. I like how they've decided that if the Choglaem kills with its tail, the tail should have something at the end rather than just... you know. A tail. That tracks. "The tail ends in a fist", specifically, however, was not something I saw coming. The crest looking like an emo hairstyle is funny, I think, and the angry elephant is great. The expression on the Choglaem's face is suspect to me; it looks like it's having too much fun with this. The linked post above includes an early draft, and itself links to a post with a detailed account of the artist's thought process and some additional sketches.
@miapcain (link to post here) has... wait, hold on, look at that border. That's gorgeous. Had to acknowledge that before moving to the inside of the frame. Anyway, Mia has given her Choglaem legs, which might seem odd for something described as a "snake", but actually isn't out of the ordinary for a medieval bestiary -- the authors tended to play a bit more fast and loose with their categorization of animals than we do today, and there are indeed examples of animals with legs being called "serpents" or "snakes". (I assume the artist knows this, I just want to share that with the rest of the audience.) Anyway, the drawing style is great; I like the stylized landscape and the muted colors. That elephant is definitely modeled after a medieval elephant -- I swear I've seen it before -- but I couldn't tell you which one offhand. Anyway. Love the vibes here. Not sure why the tongue is a vine, but it's a cool design feature.
@rautavaara (link to post here) has gone an entirely different direction with this one, and I can kind of see the steps. Snakelike creature, kills with its tail... what if the tail it kills with is a snake. As a result, we have this chimeric "bovid-lion-snake beast", as the artist describes. It definitely stands out from the crowd, and looks menacing as hell. Rautavaara continues with the cool frames and stylization, and I continue to appreciate them. Kind of an art-deco feel on this one.
@karthara (link to post here) gives us a big snake with a somewhat aquatic-looking fin-crest, grappling with an elephant in a very believable manner. That is a quality depiction of a snake fighting an elephant, no mistake. And like I said before, a kind of aquatic look feels right for something this big. The linked post contains a short description of the design decisions.
@gradling (link to post here) apparently also had the thought of "if it kills with its tail there should be something dangerous on the tail", and made the excellent decision to give the Choglaem a thagomizer. That's amazing and I love it. The crest also looks quite good. I don't have anything else to add here. Thagomizer. Brilliant.
@moustawott (link to post here) has done this very cool, kind of celestial-looking Choglaem. I like that its pose is evoking an infinity symbol. And, of course, it is in its natural habitat:
the skies
A brief explanation of design choices can be found in the post linked above.
@treesurface (link to post here) has managed to really evoke the size of this thing even though it's the only thing on the page, which I think is quite good. Also, the brief discussion of their design choices in the post linked is pretty interesting, and honestly that's what I want to highlight for this piece, so go check that out.
@scarlettbookworm (link to post here) has given us an elephant apparently in the moment when it realizes it's about to be attacked by a Choglaem. In order to allow their Choglaem to lurk despite its size, they've given it camo-pattern scales, which I think is clever. There's a pretty good explanation of their design choices in the linked post, which I think is worth reading.
@cheapsweets (link to post here) apparently did this with a fountain pen, which I think is very cool. I like the oarfish-inspired crest, and the very menacing face, and the elephant being ambushed. However -- and I realize I've said this like three times in a row now -- you should check out the linked post to read the artist's explanation of their design decisions. They describe it pretty thoroughly and I think it's more worthwhile to read their account of what they've drawn than it is to read mine.
@strixcattus (link to post here) posted this while I was typing this round-up, so this will be the last result from Normal Tumblr Search. They've given us another "there should be something dangerous on the end of its tail" interpretation and drawn their Choglaem with an ankylosaur-style club, which I think is excellent. As per usual, their post includes an amazingly detailed modern-naturalist-style description of the animal in question, which I always enjoy. It's exactly my jam. (That bit about where the largest Choglaem lives... is that a reference to something? It feels familiar.)
All right, I'm now looking through "#choglaem" on @findtags's search system, and it is a bit different, oddly. There are fewer results than in the regular Tumblr search -- only six of the above images show up -- but it also has one that doesn't show up on the normal search! Dammit tumblr.
@hairycarrot ... whom Tumblr will not let me tag? what the hell? [edit: the tag works now that i’ve posted this, but the editor seemed to think this blog wasn’t real] um... (link to post here). Anyway, they've done this neat stylized thing that kind of looks like pastels? I don't know art, that's just what it looks like to me and I like it. I also enjoy the Choglaem being coiled up like a spring -- I know it's because it's a constrictor and showing it in coils is a good way to communicate that, but I still like the look. Very pleasant-looking depiction of an elephant being ambushed by a giant snake.
All right, time for the reveal. Here's the Aberdeen Bestiary drawing:
Yep. That snake has legs and wings. So everyone who added limbs was in an appropriately medieval mindset. It doesn't seem to have a crest, though, and I don't see any blowholes. And it's attacking with its bite more than with its tail. Honestly, I think y'all read the entry much more closely than this artist did.
But maybe they were also working with more preconceptions.
Because you see.
This is the entry for the Dragon.
Yeah, that's not what I was expecting from a bestiary description of a dragon either.
The interesting thing about it to me is that it's absolutely not what you generally see in fictional depictions of dragons in medieval literature. The bestiary entry is very firm on the idea that it's not venomous, it's a constrictor, it kills with its tail -- and most medieval dragons I've read about are highly venomous. Some of them aren't even that large; they're dangerous for their venom rather than their size. So maybe this is a bit of medieval mythbusting -- "no, guys, real dragons actually don't have venom at all".
And yes, this means there's historical precedent for the green & black dragons in D&D; dragons being so venomous they spit, breathe, or blow out poison instead of having to inject it with a bite is a pretty common motif in medieval dragon stories. I think a lot of people think of those as just variants on the classic fire-breathing version depicted by the red dragon, but actually there aren't that many fire-breathing dragons in medieval stories as far as I remember. (I would do some research on this, but I wanted to have this posted like two hours ago, so you're just getting what I remember off the top of my head instead of proper sources, sorry.) To my understanding, the classic fantasy dragon breathes fire because Smaug breathed fire. And Smaug breathed fire because the dragon in Beowulf breathed fire. But the Beowulf dragon isn't actually representative in that regard; the venom-spitting dragon is more common as far as I've seen. (No word on lightning or cold, sorry blue and white dragons.)
Anyway, there's probably room to reintroduce the constrictor dragon that kills with its tail. What colors haven't already been used up in the various monster manuals, splatbooks, &c.?
I'm rambling. End of post.
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Thou So Long Hast Mourn'd
Bruce Wayne X Batmom!Reader
Summary: After Jason's passing, your grief and anger combined causes you to leave Gotham - swearing only to return when you have a perfect chance to kill the Joker for what he did to your son. (Part 2 to 'Hell Hath No Fury')
Warnings: Loss and Grief (Mentions of a funeral and repeated mentions of Jason dying. We miss Mumma's Boy Jay a lot :( ). Bad coping mechanisms all round. Clark Kent acts as a marital buffer. (Reader is fem coded; has she/her pronouns; is referred to as ‘wife’ multiple times. Has the hero name of 'Valentine'.)
Listening to: 'Skyfall' By Adele - "I know I'd never be me without the security of your loving arms keeping me from harm."
Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi
Yes, thou shalt know, spite of thy past Distress, -
Jason’s funeral was attended by a very small number of people. Yourself, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred all front and center.
For days, weeks, the media pestered asking question after question. “A tragic accident.” Commissioner Gordon would reply. It became you answer too, like a well-rehearsed prayer.
A tragic accident. Tragic. Accidental tragedy. Accident.
Except it was no such accident. Someone killed Jason. A man, who still walked free, murdered your son.
Even now, a month after you buried the child, as you sat listening to rain pat against the window panes in Wayne Manor, you remembered what you’d told Bruce the night he brought Jason home for the last time.
“I’m going to kill him.” you said. “I’m going to kill the Joker.” You told Bruce you’d do what you’d vowed to never do again. You promised yourself to avenge your son, to make sure no one else would ever lose a child to that monster ever again.
Ever since that night you’d felt a wedge slide between you and Bruce. Dick, only sixteen and having lost the closest thing he had to a brother was feeling it - you could see it on his face, and they way he held his shoulders at dinner. How you were feeling, how little Bruce was doing about it - none of it was doing Dick any good.
Aside from the anger, you didn’t know how you were feeling. You never thought you’d ever be a mother - you had no idea what to do to help anyone. So you left.
Bruce was out on patrol - he dove into Batman head first, a bitter feeling in your stomach had you thinking he was compensating. Dick was out - gymnastic practice, which Alfred was in charge of tonight. You were left alone in a huge house, and you couldn’t stand to stay there any longer.
A small bag was packed with basics - clothes, cash, a few weapons from the cave, and a single family photo taken while on vacation just that past summer (stolen from its frame and folded into a jacket pocket close to your heart). As you walked past the main living space, you stopped, and looked up towards the item hanging above the fireplace.
The sword - Excalibur - a god-given gift to humankind to exact true justice, now resting as a collectors antique catching dust. You knew if you took it that you would be able to do what you needed to. During your time using it there was no greater pull than to execute Joker - yet something always stopped you.
You knew it was Bruce.
Even already, your own guilt over what you meant to do wouldn’t let you take it with you.
Naturally, on that night, Alfred brought Dick was home first. It was already nine thirty, and while Dick would be up for a long while, he knew the boy wasn’t sleeping proper anymore.
Alfred sent him up to his room anyway, reassuringly with a hand on his shoulder, telling him to go try and get some rest.
But Alfred knew something wasn’t right in the Manor the moment he stepped inside. It was too quiet. Like it had been empty as long as they’d been away - even though he knew full well you should’ve been there to keep the house alive.
Although not trained, the butler had a sixth sense for a lot of things - he was a natural at whatever he sent his mind to (in his youth it was acting, and hence so seeing through lies and reading rooms (for improvisation, obviously) went with it). He set out to find you. Looked in all the usual places, and the unusual ones, in the big rooms and the small ones.
In the last week or so you’d taken to spending time sitting in the walk-in-fridge. He worried about you a lot. While Dick still had school and his friends, and Bruce threw himself into Batman, you only really had yourself. It wasn’t healthy.
But no matter how much he looked, or where he looked, you were nowhere to be found - not in the house, nor in the grounds. You’d said nothing about going out when he left, he would’ve remembered. In a last ditch effort to find you, he looked in one last place.
But you hadn’t been in the Batcave since Jason came home.
It was there, as he walked down a set of stairs, that he noticed a piece of paper haphazardly taped to one of the center computer monitors.
He grabbed it, and flipped it open, reading quietly to himself the words inside, scrawled in your handwriting.
‘Bruce, Don’t look, you know I won’t let you find me. I’m going to do something you will hate me for - probably forever. I can’t keep living like this knowing Jason’s killer is out there killing more mother’s sons. Take care of Dickie. Don’t take Alfred for granted.’
The older man found himself sinking into the chair beside him.
He had a hunch this was coming - he wasn’t in the cave the night Bruce brought Jason home, instead at the time he was upstairs taking a call from an excited Dick who was recalling his day spent doing a treasure hunt around Blüdhaven for a school camp trip that lasted the whole week. Alfred had no idea how you first reacted - he didn’t know how Bruce reacted to your reaction.
He knew it wasn’t good. Especially since in your note you didn’t even say goodbye to your husband.
You’d been hiding in a place you knew Bruce wouldn’t ever look - he always hated visiting Metropolis, the city was too bright.
You knew no one there would snitch on you - most didn’t even recognize you, and the one person who did, conveniently the man who was the closest thing Bruce had to a best friend, wouldn’t ever snitch on you. Not for this.
‘I needed a break,’ you’d lied, ‘Couldn’t handle being in Gotham after…’ You never finished, and you knew Clark could see through a lie like glass - but the grief he could see. He could also see the anger simmering underneath. He never called you out for it though.
You’d been there a while, waiting, watching Gotham from a distance Bruce wouldn’t see you from. You kept tabs mostly on Batman - although interviews with Bruce having to explain where his wife went were entertaining (in a sick, satisfying way). Sometimes you were sick, others you were out of town, most times you ‘weren’t feeling up to it’ - the latter two would be closest to the truth, not that he’d know that.
You often looked fondly at whatever information came though about Dick - he took out the gymnastics first place for his age bracket in the Gotham state. The picture made your heart ache - his smile was wide and toothy, but even though your printed newspaper you could tell it wasn’t reaching his eyes.
Who you were watching most, though, was the Joker. You combed through old reports and new ones. Even called up Harley Quinn a few times, just to get a perspective on him from someone who was - at one point - much closer to him. She asked you why you wanted to know.
“I need to know.”
“O-kay. And where exactly have you been Val?” she’d said, voice crackling down the hotel landline, “You ain’t locking yourself up in that Mansion are ya?”
“No. I’m not in Gotham right now.”
“So what’s even the Joker to ya if you ain’t even here huh?”
“When I come back,” you said, “I’m going to kill him.”
You became a Joker expert in almost one night.
You got a late night visitor less than a week after that phone call. Clad in red and blue, with a gaudy cape and that stupid ringlet you and Bruce would always bitch about on late nights under bed covers.
You were a little happy to see Clark - you actually had nothing against him, it was all just in jest (or solidarity because Bruce was your husband). He was let in pretty quickly. Mostly to avoid questions from the nosey couple who’d been staying in the room next to yours for the past three days.
He stood around awkwardly while you watched him from the seat next to the room’s microwave, posture screaming Clark Kent, journalist, even though he looked like Superman, world-know superhero.
“I’m, uh -” he started after you stared at him hard, wordlessly willing him to speak, “- I’m worried. I think you should go back to Gotham soon. To Bruce, specifically.”
“And why’s that?” He looked at you like you’d just said you had Kryptonite in your pocket.
“Because you’re in trouble.”
“I’m here in Metropolis, I’m with you right now, I couldn’t be in less trouble if I tried.”
“You know I have super hearing.” he said sheepishly. It was like he was telling his Ma he ran over her peonies with a bicycle. You put two and two together quickly though.
“You’ve been spying on me?”
“For me!” He said, stepping back with his palms towards the sky, “I feel better about not telling Bruce if I know what’s going on with you.”
“And so what part of your spying brought you here tonight?” Both your arms and legs crossed, you could tell from his face he didn't mean for you to get so offensive so quickly.
“You were talking to Harley Quinn?”
“Oh that,” you scoffed with a wave of your hand, “Even Bruce does that. She’s not so bad. Taught me how to roller-skate you know.”
“About the Joker?”
“That happens often when my husband is being a pain in my ass,” you said, “Reminds me he could be much, much worse.” Clark motioned his head - ‘fair’, but then he returned serious once more. This time it wasn’t a question.
“You said you were going to kill him.”
You knew he couldn’t read your mind, but he could hear how your heartbeat picked up. He had to know you knew you’d been caught. He sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting for your answer in the most approachable way he knew in that moment.
“I’d be doing everyone a favor.”
“Bruce - I don’t know what he’d do. He could hate you.”
“I’m sure he hates me right now anyway.”
“You can’t believe that,” Clark said, looking up at you with blue eyes that almost looked like Bruce’s. “You don’t really believe he hates you right now?” You took a great interest in the patterned carpet. Clark said your name, and you reluctantly looked back at him.
“He misses you.”
“I miss my son.” You bit back at him bitterly. His face remained hard. This was suddenly no longer Clark. You were talking to Superman now.
“I’m not sure how to say this kindly,” Clark said with a firm voice, “But you’re so focused on the child you lost that you’re abandoning the one that’s still here. Bruce misses you, but Dick misses you even more. He doesn’t need to lose another Mom.”
His stare was hard, stubborn - he wasn’t going to let up. Your stare was hard too - sour and angry, not because you didn't believe him, but because you knew how right he was.
“I think you can leave now.”
Two weeks later, after a late night grocery run that consisted mostly of chicken noodle cups and instant coffee, you found a lump of black sitting in the dark with its back against the door of your room.
Clark told Bruce.
He didn’t seem to notice your approach, but once you stood toe-to-toe with his polished Oxford shoes, you kicked his leg.
“Get up.”
His head of messy hair lifted, and when his brain fully processed you - his wife, finally! - standing before him, he almost jumped to his feet. Uncharacteristic of him outside his prior - and now ditched - playboy persona.
He breathed your name, stepping forward with hands outstretched as if to hug you. You took a step back. Clark, apparently hadn’t told him everything - if he had, he was taking it very, very well.
“Where’s Dick?”
“With Alfred,” he said, hands falling to his sides again after you hummed in acknowledgment. You both stood in silence for a while, before you gestured to a door with a full hand. He got the hint, stepping away, then taking the bags away from one hand as you fumbled for your keys.
The quiet continued as you let yourselves in, you sat the shopping on the bench, and he made himself at home at the table near the door. You sat back down in the microwave chair, the furthest place from him you could be while still staying in the room.
“Been keeping busy, Bruce?” you asked, he turned to fully face you in his seat.
“Not really,” he said, “I’ve been looking for you. Never thought you’d be here,” You almost smiled, thinking about how right you were for coming here. Almost.
“Heard you went to Saudi Arabia while I’ve been gone.”
“It was nothing. Really.”
“You couldn’t have been looking too hard if you were able to take a ‘nothing, really’ trip to the Arabian Mountains.”
“I’m not here to fight with you,” Bruce said, resting a palm on his knee, “I’m here to ask you to come home. We all miss you.” his last words came out very quietly. “It’s been months. Nothings going to get easier if you stay away.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” you said with a soft scoff, “He who literally spent every single night after Jason died away from home. He who spends every moment he can down in a dark damp cave rather than with his family - I don’t think you get to tell me where I should be.” You felt tears well in your eyes - hot and fat if they fell, but you willed yourself not to let them. Bruce’s shoulders softened, and he stood and walked closer slowly, coming to kneel before you with his fingers just touching yours.
“We both haven’t been doing well, have we?” his head shook and his voice was barely audible. It was like he was speaking to himself. His admission - finally, his own pride and stubbornness aside, and it made yours disappear like dust in the wind.
“You need to see my bathroom,” you said. His head cocked, a sly smile twitched onto his lips.
“Oh?” he said, “And what might I find there?” But you weren’t smiling. You were trying to be honest.
“Just go look.” you said, turning away from him, bringing your hand away. Telling him with your actions that you weren’t going to be talking until he did.
He stood, opening the bathroom door behind you and flicking on the light. You could feel how still he was. Taking in the room, and what was inside it.
All across the mirror and walls were taped up newspaper clippings and photos and articles printed off from the library, old and new, a few of him - Batman - but most of the Joker. Beside the toilet was a case - one he knew would hold parts of a rifle (parts he'd seen you pull apart and put back together in a minute flat) - and across the sink were knives and gun magazines.
Bruce stepped off the carpet and onto the tile. There was a little list in the center of the mirror, written in red and with the last line underlined.
‘Kill the Joker’.
When he returned to you, he was holding the list in one hand.
“When were you planning on doing this?” he asked. You weren’t able to meet his eyes when you answered.
“Whenever I go back to Gotham.” His body went rigid beside you. Audibly, he let out a breath.
“I’ve thought about it too. Just getting rid of him like that.” he admitted, voice quiet and with a rough edge, “But I know it won’t help. It won’t bring him back.”
“This isn’t about bringing him back. If I knew it could bring Jason back I’d have done it weeks ago.” You looked up at Bruce as you spoke, watching as his face crinkled in disbelief.
“You’re so serious about this.”
“How could you still think I’m not serious?” you said, standing to help convince yourself you weren’t as unsure as you felt. “I will do it. A time will come when that monster dies - wherever it is I will be standing by watching.”
He watched you. Analyzing your face and the way your eyes moved. His face set like stone, hard and sure and you knew he was much more upset now having found out than what he was when you were missing. He took a step back.
Bruce was moving towards the door.
“I won’t stop you. I couldn’t bear to.” he turned, hand on the door handle, “But Batman still will.”
As far as you knew, you’d made it back into Gotham City undetected.
You knew the route’s Bruce - no - Batman, took while out on patrol. You knew the surveillance he constantly would check. You knew because for years you’d helped him do it all.
Thankfully, you had a not-so-little little helper - Joker assassination aside, Harley was more than happy to put you up for a while. After you’d killed Joker you’d planned to turn tail and leave again - maybe hide someplace in Australia where no one barely goes. It wasn’t like you had to put up with her long anyway.
Harley was great, but you’d have to love her a whole lot to live with her longer than a week. But you weren’t planning to stay that long.
You’d tracked Joker to an apartment complex near Arkham - you knew he wouldn’t stay there forever, so you needed to act fast.
Your weapons of choice were clean and ready to go, your escape routes A through to D were memorized, a hood and bandana combo were acquired to hide your identity long enough for no one around to know it was you. By all means and definitions you were ready to go.
You left Harley’s place wordlessly. You were sure she didn’t even know you left.
A cloak and the shadows of night concealed you from most passersby. Slowly, slowly you stalked towards where you knew the Joker to be. When you climbed the fire escape to find your vantage point, you almost didn’t make it all the way there because you saw Him.
Sitting, lounging. Acting like there was not a single thing in the world to worry about. It made you so angry you could scream, claw your eyes out, you could do so many things all because that man couldn’t care less about your son dying.
In fact, you didn’t make it to your original vantage point.
You settled right there, three levels lower than planned, and took the rifle off your shoulder. Clipping on the scope, twisting the silencer on, packing the magazine in. Settled your body into a comfortable position, then raised the gun to look at your target through the scope.
With greasy green hair and yellow teeth, you watched him smile through the crosshairs. With a sneer you flicked the safety off. You were ready to take the shot.
A flash of red, green and yellow came in front of the Joker. You frowned, confused. Pulling the scope back you looked again with a wider range and saw something that made your heart drop. Someone was tied up and presented to him like a present.
The Joker had Robin.
Your Robin. Your son. Your Dick Grayson.
Suddenly this was more than just a chance to avenge Jason. A switch flicked inside your heart. This wasn’t a chance to avenge Jason anymore; this was you, saving the son you had left. This was you not giving that monster the chance to keep you in black.
The lethal rifle was ditched right there on the fire escape, not caring if a lowlife found it before you could return. The knives you’d stashed - ‘just in case’ - were now your swords. Their piercing blades becoming the only thing shielding those who stood in your way a feral beating from bare fists.
No one was standing in your way of taking Dick home safely.
Your veins pumped white hot, you saw red all over. This was not going to happen a second time. It wasn’t ever going to happen again.
A goon at the door stood in your way, he was met with a knee to the crotch and a wound to his shoulder to keep him down. More on the stairs were thrown over bannisters. One had his head smashed into the doorway of the Joker’s apartment. Another was given a hard elbow to the back of his neck.
You weren’t aiming to kill - you were aiming to get them out of your way, and keep them that way.
When you reached the room which window you saw through, there were only four other people aside from yourself, your son, and that murdering bastard. They all stayed quiet, goons waiting on a call to action from their boss. You missed the way Dick’s eyes widened as he realised his Mom was here. You were busy staring down the Joker, trying to make him feel just how much pure hate you had for him without a single word.
“Give me Robin,” you said, voice low, venomous. Dangerous.
“Well if you want him so bad, and since you asked nicely,” His smile spread wide and uncanny. “Come and get him.”
So you did.
Like a blur of back and blue, you had all four men either out cold or groaning on the floor. The Joker himself was under your kneeling form with his teeth now stained red and an eyes swollen shut.
“Listen well because I’ll only say it once.” You said, your hand a rough fist in his hair to make sure he looked into your eyes and saw exactly how much of a threat your promise was.
“I spared your life today. I will never do it again. I am not the Batman. The next time I find you trying to pull something with one of my Robin’s and you see me coming you'd better run the other way because I will kill you.”
After untying Dick, retrieving your abandoned gear, and throwing Joker into Arkham, you reconvened with Dick on a nearby rooftop.
You barely stood upright on two legs before he barreled into you, arms thrown around your waist with his face squished right into your collarbone. He’d grown taller in the time you’d been away. You felt tears fall as your arms wrapped around him in kind.
“I’ve missed you Mom.” he mumbled into your shirt, “Please don’t go away again. Please.”
A hand raised to the back of his head as you pressed your covered nose into his hair. You took a deep breath with your eyes closed, then opened them, peeling you both apart just enough to take in each other's faces. Even with his mask on you could see how much he was pleading with you to stay.
You brushed his hair away from his face - he needed a haircut soon.
You wanted to stay, you never wanted to leave him ever again, not after tonight. But would Bruce let you?
Out the corner of your eye you saw a black drop fall onto the rooftop a little ways off. Batman. He stood, tall and intimidating. In that moment you had half a mind to take a step back even though he made no move closer to you.
Instead you just held Dick a little tighter.
Bruce's hand reached out to you, palm open, outstretched, and empty. Waiting for you to take it.
“I think we can go home now.” he said, “We all can.” Like that, Batman disappeared. Bruce was here. You guessed he bluffed - when it came to you Bruce was always there.
Things were not going to go back to normal. They weren’t for a while. But the best thing you could do was stay together, all together. As a family.
Nothing was going to push that away from you again.
- And all those Ills which thou so long hast mourn'd;
#the adventures of batmom#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x batmom#batman x reader#jason todd x batmom#dick grayson x batmom
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what if i told you (i love you) part 3 - joel miller
pairing: joel miller!fem reader
chapter summary: with Joel and Ellie still in Jackson, you try to navigate your confusing feelings towards Joel. warnings: small mentions of violence, angst, fluff, swearing I think. let me know if i missed anything please! also this isn't edited at all. if you know tlou and wanna beta this story, that would be lovely <3 word count: 3k masterlist series masterpost ask box tag list form
authors note: thought I abandoned this story? same. so it's been a hot minute, and I'm not sure if anyone is still interested in this story but it's been in the back of my mind and then 3k words poured out of me at work today. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I hope you like it anyways. I'll tag the people who asked, but I know it's been MONTHS so if you want to be removed from the tag list, send me a message and if you want to be added to the list, fill out this form. if you've got any questions, comments or thoughts, my ask box is here or just leave a comment in the notes:). thanks for reading, like & hit that reblog button if you enjoy it🩵
When Jack was first born, you went through a rough time. You were a new mom in a post-apocalyptic world and still trying to get over the betrayal you felt from Joel. You spent many nights at the kitchen table with Maria or Avery, crying or sitting in silence and feeling numb. The hardest nights were when you missed him, because that meant feeling weak and you hated letting yourself feel like you needed him.
Your task of avoiding him during his stay in Jackson is becoming particularly difficult because of the duckling you seem to have acquired. Ellie trails after you nearly anywhere you and Jack go and Joel has no intention of letting Ellie out of his sight for longer than a few hours. A small part of you is jealous that he seems to see the girl as a daughter when he wouldn’t even accept Jack but you can’t blame her, so you let her tag along while pretending Joel isn’t always hovering in the background like a mother hen. During movie night, you seat Jack with Ellie and go stand in the back with the adults. Brad, one of the men around your age immediately comes over and tries to strike up a conversation with you. He’s nice enough, and not hard on the eyes but you never really let yourself make time for dating. You have your hands full with your kid so you just smile politely but entertain him, listening to him talk about going on patrol but tune him out when he begins bragging about taking out a pack of clickers. You know his story isn’t true because Avery was on the same patrol as him and told you when the clickers showed up, he hid while everyone else took care of it.
At some point, you can feel a pair of eyes on you and immediately you know who it is without having to look. You’re trying to ignore it but his eyes feel like they’re burning a hole in your head so you turn to look and as you do, he quickly walks out of the building. You don’t know what comes over you, but you excuse yourself from your conversation with Brad and follow Joel outside. He didn’t go far, you find him leaning against the wall near the door a few feet away, arms crossed and deep in thought. It’s close to impossible to sneak up on him unless he’s feeling safe or is with someone he trusts. You’re apparently neither anymore because his head shoots up as soon as you get close.
He stares at you, mouth opening and closes a few times before he looks back at the ground and scuffing his boot in the dirt. You’ve no idea why you even followed him out here in the first place and after a few more seconds of silence, you start to head back inside but his voice stops you just as it did a few nights ago. He still has this invisible hold on you and you can’t understand why.
“Sarah,” he mumbles so quietly you wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t silent outside. “Her name was Sarah and she was my entire world and she’s gone.”
Tommy had admitted to you on one of your bad nights while he and Maria were trying to comfort you that Joel had lost a daughter. You’d put two and two together after Tommy made the memorial with Maria’s late son and the name Sarah who you knew was neither of theirs.
“Yeah,” you whisper, hating the ache in your chest you feel for him. You can’t imagine losing Jack but you don’t know if you can accept what he is insinuating. You can hear him walk towards you and you fight the urge to leave because as much as you don’t want to be around him, this is the first time he’s opened up to you.
“I thought it’d be replacin’ her,” he mumbles and you realize he means Jack. That accepting another child would mean replacing his late daughter.
You turn around to find him closer than you were expecting and take a step backwards, almost toppling backwards but his arms reach out and catch you. He doesn’t let go immediately, hands firm and steady gripping your arms exactly how you remember. For a moment, neither of you move. It’s as if you’re in a trance and it only breaks when the door flies open and Jack comes running out the door with Ellie chasing after him.
You pull away from Joel, picking up Jack when he reaches for you.
“Mama! The movie’s over,” he says and then frowns. “You were gone.”
“I came out for some fresh air.”
He grumbles and tucks his face in the crook of your neck. “‘S cold,”
You’re about to respond when Joel shrugs his thick brown jacket off and drapes it over Jack but it’s big enough that it covers you as well.
You mumble a quiet thanks, ignoring the curious look Ellie gives you both and bid goodbye to the both of them, promising the girl that you would see her tomorrow.
It was inevitable, you realize, sitting at the table listening to Jack tell Joel and Ellie a story you’d told him too often.
“And-and then the Prince saved the Princess from a huge monster who’s teeth go click click click and then they went to Fred and Bob’s house for dinner!”
You can feel Joel’s eyes on you the entire time Jack is telling them the story. He’s clearly piecing together that this isn’t just some made up story you told your son but a kid-friendly version of something that happened between you and Joel. It was shortly before you left Boston, Joel and yourself going to Bill and Franks for something. You’d been distracted because it was just after you found out you were pregnant and hadn’t told anyone yet and you turned your back for a split second while you were in the wrong place and nearly torn apart by a clicker. Joel had been furious, saying you needed to be more careful but he couldn’t have been that mad because after lecturing you for ten minutes, he’d pinned you against a tree and kissed you until you couldn’t remember your name.
It was one of the last times he had kissed you before you told him you were pregnant and then left Boston.
“Quite a story,” Joel says, looking at Jack who proudly smiles at the older man's comment. “Does the Princess have a name?”
Jack gives you a curious look and when you don’t say anything, he shrugs and looks back at Joel.
“Mama never said.”
Ellie snickers quietly, obviously also realizing that the story is based on actual events. Joel gives her a look but she doesn’t back down despite his glare. She leans towards Jack and grins.
“Do you have any more stories about the Prince and Princess?”
Simultaneously, you and Joel both say “no” a little too loudly which earns the two of you some looks.
“I think it’s time for someone to go to school,” you say, standing up and offering your hand to Jack who grumbles but climbs off his chair and requests to be picked up by you rather than walk. You know you’re probably babying him but he’s growing too quick and soon he won’t want to be carried around by his mom so you’re cherishing every moment.
You chance a look at Joel before you leave and he’s wearing the softest expression you’ve probably ever seen on him and it makes your stomach do somersaults and cheeks warm. It’s probably a bad idea, no it’s definitely a bad idea but when it comes to Joel Miller, you always made bad choices.
“You guys can walk with us if you’d like,” you say and Ellie is out of her chair before you even finish the sentence. Joel looks a little more hesitant but he still doesn’t like going far without the girl in his sight so he follows the three of you outside.
Of course by the time you get to the small school Jackson has, Jack is more than happy to go in and play with his friends. He gives you, Ellie, and a startled Joel hugs before running inside without looking back. You’re grateful that you have a place here where Jack can have as close to a normal childhood one can have in this world. You can’t imagine if you’d stayed in Boston what kind of upbringing he would’ve had. You certainly don’t miss it there, aside from the nights you missed Joel which were far and few in between up until he showed up here. The reason he’s here is still unclear although you have a suspicion Tommy knows more than what he’s told you and even Maria. The length of Joel and Ellie’s stay is also not known. You were expecting them to just need to stop and get supplies before continuing their journey but they’re still here and you have no idea when they’ll be leaving.
You’re not sure what possessed you to invite Joel and Ellie to your little house for dinner but here you are, chopping vegetables to make soup. Jack is still at school and the soup will take time to cook but Ellie insisted on helping you prepare it and Joel said he needed to go see Tommy. It’s kind of nice to have company even if it’s in the form of a fourteen year old. Said fourteen year old has been awfully quiet the past twenty minutes and you can tell she’s wanting to ask you something but is stopping herself.
“Go ahead,” you eventually say, tired of her silence.
“Joel is Jack’s dad, isn’t he?”
You’re so tempted to say no, only for the fact that she obviously looks up to Joel and you don’t know who she would look at as the bad guy. And honestly is the best policy, right?
“Yeah,” you tell her, noticing when her shoulders deflate.
She’s quiet for another five minutes before asking, “Did Joel tell you to leave?”
You’re quick to answer this question because as wrong as what Joel did was, it was your decision to leave Boston and you don’t want to put some wedge between them.
“No, I left because I wanted a better life for Jack.” It’s not a complete lie, Joel is part of why you left but you really did want a better life for your son than what he would’ve had in Boston.
“Alright,” she eventually says and then: “Can you pass me another carrot?”
And that’s that. You both chat about random things, she tells you some terrible puns and you buckle and reluctantly tell her some more stories of when you, Joel and Tess lived in Boston. She tells you that Joel won’t talk about Tess and she feels guilty about her death. You listen quietly, letting her spill out things she must have been holding in knowing Joel didn’t want to hear it.
“I knew Tess really well,” you tell her. “She wouldn’t have done what she did if she didn’t think it was worth it.”
Ellie looks at you hesitantly. “Yeah?”
You nod and she smiles a little before asking if she can come with you to pick up Jack, but you tell her that Avery is going to pick him up and drop him here. Since you’ve got some quiet time, you decide to do some cleaning while Ellie goes to the house she and Joel have been staying at to take a shower.
It’s a couple hours later when there’s a knock on your door and you’re figuring it’s Avery with Jack so when you open the door, you almost drop the broom you’re holding when you see Joel standing in front of you and Jack in his arms. You start to ask why Joel has Jack and where Avery is when you see the woman in question standing at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile on her face.
“We, uh, ran into Mr. Miller on our way here and Jack insisted that he come with us,” she explains but you can’t stop looking at the duo in front of you. Jack is smiling, arms wrapped around Joel’s neck and telling him a story but Joel is watching you warily, like he’s expecting you to yell or something.
“Hi mama,” Jack says but makes no move to leave Joel’s arms. In fact, he looks very pleased that the older man is carrying him.
“Hi baby,” you reply, unsure what to do. You don’t want to upset Jack by taking him from Joel but you can’t tell if the latter is uncomfortable. Avery, sensing the tension, smiles brightly and waves awkwardly.
“I gotta go feed Lucy,” she says, already walking backwards. “See ya, Jack!”
Jack shouts goodbye to Avery and you finally snap out of your stupor, stepping back to let Joel walk inside. He toes off his boots and you’re about to offer to take his jacket when you realize he’s not wearing one because you never gave him it back last night.
“Dinner smells good,” he says, following you to the living room where Jack finally wriggles out of Joel’s arms but only to get a toy to show him.
“Look Mr. Miller,” the boy says, offering a wooden train that you gave him for his birthday. An older gentleman in the town made it for you after hearing Jack talking about how much he loved looking at pictures of trains.
“That’s a really nice train,” Joel compliments, sitting down on the couch. Jack immediately climbs up and settles down next to him, chatting about the toy and you watch as Joel listens intently, nodding at the right times and you remember that he’s done this before, it may have been twenty years ago, but he’s dealt with an excited almost five-year-old.
The front door opening and closing tears your attention away from them and you look to find Ellie walking towards you, shrugging off her jacket. She lays it on the rocking chair and then plops down next to Jack, shooting you a small smile. There’s something in her expression that is sadder than when she left and you wonder if something happened since she left but you don’t bother asking her now. Instead, you go set the table and check the soup to make sure it’s done before calling everyone to the kitchen. Jack makes sure his chair is as close to Joel’s as he can get it so he can keep talking to him.
You have heavily conflicted feelings about the relationship growing between them. On one hand, it’s kind of nice that Jack is getting to know his dad, even if he doesn’t know Joel is his father. On the other hand, if you let Jack get too attached to Joel, it’ll break his heart when he and Ellie leave. So, you decide tonight after Jack is gone to bed and Ellie goes home, you’ll sit Joel down and ask him why he’s here and when he’s leaving.
Of course that doesn’t happen because Ellie and Jack pass out on the sofa after reading every children's book you own and you and Joel end up sitting at the table, drinking some liquor Maria had given you that you never got around to drinking. You’re not drunk, but you’re tipsy enough that you feel relaxed around Joel and laugh at whatever he’s saying. It almost feels like Boston, when the days were so long and dark that all you wanted to do was sit and drink with him and eventually wind up in bed together.
Except now, you’ve got two kids who are sleeping in the living room and no intention of going to bed with him. Well, maybe if you let yourself have a few more glasses and if there weren’t kids in the other room but that’s just the alcohol in your system making you think things you shouldn’t.
“Do you remember when Frank asked how long we’d been dating?” He asks and you snort at the memory. You didn’t know at the time why Frank would even think that since you and Joel had been bickering the entire time you were at dinner, and Tess had to tell the two of you to knock it off multiple times. She had choked on her water when you asked why Frank thought you were dating and he said that it was because the two of you reminded him of Bill and himself.
“Yeah, Tess nearly choked because she was laughing when we simultaneously shouted no and then Bill caught us making out behind his house,” you say, smiling behind a sip of your drink. He doesn’t react to you saying Tess’s name and just shakes his head with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He tilts his head a little so he’s looking at you and not the ceiling.
“If I thought it covered the pain I caused you, I’d say sorry,” he says quietly and a little broken.
You look away, swallowing loudly. “Well, sorry would be a start.”
You don’t say that you’re not sure if you can forgive him, even if he did say sorry. Even if he knelt in front of you and begged, you’re not sure if you could push past the last five years. Every night you spent sobbing into your pillow in Boston while you waited for him to come back after you told him you were pregnant. Every bad night you had here in Jackson, thinking of why he did it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly, like it’s a secret.
Blinking back tears, you clear your throat and nod. “Thank you.”
Thank you but I can’t forgive you, goes unsaid. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers, I can't forgive you yet and you can’t help but believe it a little bit.
tag list: @sloanexx @wandering-poetess @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chiogarza @jellybeanxc @iranispunk @imonmykneessir @wakaladjarin @sleepylunarwolf @pedropascalfan221 @abovenyx @starjoyyy @shuriri4life @cavillary @absolukeyrh @uwiuwi @keileighr @whitemanshoe19 @mishasminion360 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @praline357 if you wanna be removed, please let me know <3 i know it's been awhile!!
#allies writing#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller x y/n#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us imagine#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel miller reader insert
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Okay so basically I really only have a very very rough draft of the AU... plus some character design ideas... and like ONE name LMAO.. but anywho.
Basically, the AU takes place after the events of TFA. However, Prowl is NOT dead because..well I love him and I say so Also Team Prime is still located on Earth because the big threats never stop ig...Maybe I'll come up with a real reason later..
It focuses on an intel agent with the given designation "Comet" (whos not very good at her job) finding some old experiments in an closed-off lab/quarters. She originally goes to the closed-off area, which just so happened to be "Long-arm Prime's" office-thing idk to destroy Decepticon data and any blackmail on Sentinel because ofc he would do that. She finds what shes looking for and destroys it, but then she finds unfinished and scrapped files and experiments. She figures "Hey, he's not gonna need them anymore...and Sentinel didn't tell me to destroy them..." so she just takes them to study.
She successfully sneaks the data back to her home, and moves the data to where she has a mini-lab (a decommissioned spaceship.) because shes always liked science (😞) and begins trying to finish what Shockwave started. She uncovers the data from an experiment named "Project Predacon". Through a series of events she successfully creates a clone from the DNA/coding Shockwave had left behind from the (assumed) failed project. She has to leave for Intel agent business for a while, and when she returns she finds the little like...clone thing is gone. Or is it? Nope! Just a fully grown predacon! Comet is dumbfounded, not even afraid. Shes extremely proud of herself and is awestruck at the Predacon (yet to be named I will take suggestions...pls). However, she knows that if anyone found out about the predacon then it would most likely be offlined and so would she. So she keeps it hidden.
And throughout all this Comet has a best friend "L" (LaserStrike but she goes by "L") who is beginning to get extremely suspicious. L is training to become a proper scientist and medic, and she really doesn't want Comet to fuck it up. Therefor, L does some digging and eventually finds out about the Predacon. She doesn't immediately go to Sentinel though, because she hates him. And so do I. anyway, she grills Comet on why she created it. Comet just kinda goes "cuz I could?" and she has no idea what to do now.
L ends up assuming,because tensions are still high after the war and Long-arm being Shockwave..so trust issues throughout Cybertron.., that Comet is a decepticon. L makes an anonymous tip to Sentinel that Comet is engaging in decepticon behavior, which leads to an investigation. Comet ends up finding a somewhat working escape pod on the abandoned ship and shoves the Predacon and all the data in there. After promising to come back for the Predacon, she puts in random coordinates into the pod and sends it off. The pod is out of sight right before some of the guards show up with Sentinel. They're unable to find anything, but she's put on probation after making a snarky comment to Sentinel. And she's basically put to work in the office for unreasonable hours every day. (idk the transformers terms for days and hours and such...)
Meanwhile, the pod reaches its destination!!
Earth.
Nothing bad can happen when a new apex predator comes onto Earth! Totally!
But that's all I have currently... I plan on making the decepticons a bigger part of it eventually! I just currently don't know how.. also sorry if this is hard to read I'm not good at writing stuff w/o a template..
#transformers#maccadam#decepticons#autobots#transformers au#alternate universe#Prowl isn't dead#original character#predacons#i'm cooking i swear#art soon to come#not finished#transformers animated#tfa sentinel prime#tfa optimus prime#tfa prowl#just the whole gang really#I wrote this in school btw
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so umm i just finished mother of learning in like 5 days, and my brain is now full of wriggling squiggling worms. i'm also just starting a re-read with the audiobook and it is already giving me even more questions and ideas! so here i am to share my wormy burden ^_^
anyway, here's something chapter 1 started me thinking about...
do you think zorian's mother knows about their bloodline? (also her name is cikan. i had to look it up, so saying it here incase anyone else needed reminding)
we know that cikan really hated being associated with zorian's grandmother, but she was still immersed in witch culture at least somewhat in her home life. we don't really know how old she was when she first started to reject those practices, so it's hard to judge how much she would have learned before she went out of her way to avoid it, and we also just don't have enough context about the witches' traditions for raising their kids to make guesses about her knowlege level.
we do see later on in the series (what comes to mind is the confrontation in koth) that cikan doesn't have much knowlege about magic as zorian knows it (eg. what you can expect from certain spells used for travel), but given that the witches are an separate spellcasting tradition from the ikosians that doesn't necessarily tell us loads about what she might have picked up from her mother.
also, knowing you have a bloodline is pretty important information to have, so even with the antagonism you'd think zorian's grandmother would've at least made sure cikan knew about that... if SHE knew, anyway, cause that's also not something we can really take for granted is it? there are a few ways i can picture it being
option 1. most of what we see in the series is not typical from an empathy bloodline. archmage zorian is an outlier and should not be counted. and even daimen, the more "normal" natural mind mage is still a whole magical prodigy, which isn't exactly baseline for most people with empathy either. so yeah... zorian's grandmother may not have known that she had a empathy in her family in the first place.
option 2. we do hear (i don't remember when or who from. maybe one of the teachers? was it ilsa? idk) that empathy is a pretty common form of natural magical ability, and it's kind of a mild plot twist that it's a bloodline thing if i remember correctly. so even if zorian's grandmother knew about an empath in her family history she might not have known that meant it could pass down.
option 3. part of the reason in world that empathy isn't usually thought of as a bloodline thing (again, if i'm remembering right) is because it's so comparatively common, so it's entirely possible that empathy bloodlines (and possibly to a lesser extent bloodlines in general) are just quite common for witches to the extent that it's not really something that needs to be said explicitly, or at least wouldn't have been if cikan hadn't done so much to assimilate with the dominant culture and distance herself from witch tradition and knowlege
BUT, those options are thinking about the reasons cikan might NOT know about their bloodline... so again, does she know? even if she doesn't think of it as a bloodline she might be aware that her family has a history of empathy. so now for some thoughts on what the situation might be if she IS aware of the family history.
(note. i'm pretty damn sure cikan herself isn't an empath. zorian would be able to tell if she was "open", and she just doesn't have that understanding of how other people feel. but if you think otherwise, or just want to think about a "what if", i'd love to hear about it ^-^)
(oh and same goes for kiri and fortov)
cikan might know that there's a family history, but not really know what that means in practise. as i mentioned earlier she doesn't seem very knowlegable on magic, so she might not have any clue about the signs and how it typically presents.
she also might be in denial about the possibility that her kids inherited something like that from her, given what we've seen of how she thinks about her heritage. or she might have focused any concern about the possibility onto kirielle, who seems to be where much of her trauma goes, and not considered that the boys might get it. especially considering the witches' beliefs about sex and magical lineage.
but she also might know or suspect that zorian and/or daimen is an empath. which if nothing else is certainly the option with the most potential drama.
personally, i doubt she knows that daimen is an empath. he put a lot of work into hiding it, and i feel like it would probably affect how he sees him. given how much baggage she has about her witch heritage i just can't see that knowlege not somewhat tainting her golden boy, you know? like i know she's fine with him being a mage and really proud of his prodigy status, but i just can't envision her seeing empathy the same way, and i think it would come through in a slightly colder attitude to daimen. especially given the cultural stigma against mind magic when she's worked so hard to become socially acceptable.
but i'm just not sure whether she knows about zorian or not! on the one hand i could totally see her just being oblivious, in denial, not having the right context, whatever, but I can also kind of see the way she treats him (specifically in relation to him socialising and stuff), through the lense of knowing he's an empath.
like he straight up told her as a child that crowds caused him physical pain. he had tp stop going to church because it made him actually pass out! that is some pretty intense stuff to just ignore... we're never told that he saw a doctor or anything about this via his parents (as far as i remember, please let me know if i'm missimg something!) so did she have some idea about what was going on or was it just plain neglect?
and if she did have some understanding of the situation, how did that affect her behaviour? did she think if she ignored it he'd just adjust and never find out? did she just not want it to be associated with her family history if/when he did find out? did she think that if she forced him into triggering situations he'd eventually realise? or that he'd learn to control it subconciously? or did it just not matter how he felt as long as he was still functional when it came to his political use? did she hide it more out of personal shame, or a legitimate conviction that she was protecting him like with kiri?
like i said, i'm not sure what my headcannon is, but the topic fascinates me. as you can probably tell from how long and rambly this got. sorry ^_^'
but yeah, i'd love to hear what other people think!
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