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aspenwritesstuff · 2 years

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REPLAY : Stars and Raindrops

REPLAY Masterlist | w/c: 3.5k | Seungmin x Reader

warnings: angst, post-breakup sadness, longing, sex mentioned/implied (no details, sorry lovies), symptoms of anxiety (skin picking), hurt&comfort

synopsis: After a year of dating, you and Seungmin had ran into an issue many couples do - consistent bickering. After having enough, you'd made the difficult choice to break things off. When you return to his apartment to retreive the last of your things, will you still feel the same way about your relationship? Or was a reminder of all of the love you'd shared all it took to reignite the once-encompassing flame?

“When you say that everything is useless and meaningless, but only good memories come back."

Despite the apathy Kim Seungmin’s friends accused him of, he found himself incessantly dwelling on the last words he’d heard you say.

“What’s the point, Min? What are we even fighting for anymore?”

Even now, he felt the devastation of those simple sentences wreak havoc on his heart. How could you have summarized the entirety of your relationship into two heartbreaking questions, forsaking every bit of joy the two of you had shared? How could you have forgotten every inside joke and comforting embrace? He didn’t hate you for it, though.

In fact, Seungmin wished he could abandon them, too. It would be easier that way.

The knowledge that you were coming by his apartment today poignantly lacked the excitement it used to carry with it - knowing that this would likely be the last time you willingly spent with him souring the idea of getting to see your face again. He stood from the couch, ignoring the dent his body had left after days of rotting away alone, grabbing an empty box in which to gather your things.

He started in the bathroom. There was a certain sadness to halving the amount of things in a room, even without the attachment of a breakup. Seungmin bit the inside of his cheek to maintain composure, fighting the urge to shed any more tears, as he lifted the glass perfume bottle he’d gifted you a few months ago from the counter.

You’d been eyeing it for a while, not that you’d ever said anything to him about it, but he had a keen sense of awareness - especially when it came to you. He’d asked you if you’d wanted it before, earning a scoff and a wave of your hand as you assured him that it wasn’t really that important.

But he hadn’t let it go.

He’d grabbed it after his shift at the cafe across the street from the parfumerie, grinning from ear to ear as he carried the pale pink bag back to the apartment. You’d gotten a text from him, saying it was of the utmost importance that you came over after your plans with your mom, and had later scolded him for worrying you.

He’d always remember the concern in your voice as you’d come in the door, “Minnie?” you’d been sliding off your shoes when you called his name, “Is everything okay?”

He was far too excited to feel bad about having worried you in the moment, nearly vibrating with glee as you rounded the corner into the dining room. When you took in the uncharacteristic grin on his face, your concern quickly morphed into confusion. It wasn’t until he’d pulled that pastel bag out from under the chair that the understanding of what he’d done for you overcame them both, replacing any worries you had with a growing endearment towards him.

Seungmin sniffled as he remembered the way your voice sounded, muffled into his neck as you’d embraced him tightly, telling him that he was the best.

If only he’d been able to keep you believing so.

Placing the glass bottle gingerly into the box, he gathered the rest of your toiletries and moved on to the bedroom. The scent of your shampoo wafted up from the bedding as Seungmin flopped down onto the mattress, opening the drawer of the bedside table you’d claimed as your own. A humorless scoff came from his lips as he remembered your indignation at having nowhere for your things.

“If you want me to stay over here, I don’t want to throw my things wherever!”

Shaking his head, and the recollection of your cute pout from his mind, he pulled the drawer open. The inside was pretty bare, containing but a few knick-knacks and keepsakes. He lifted them one-by-one, heaviness growing nearly unbearable on his shoulders as he felt the lump in his throat grow.

The first thing he packed was a slip of paper from inside of a fortune cookie. He’d tried to make you a nice dinner on your first overnight, only to end up forgetting to set the timer and burning the salmon beyond saving. He’d felt horrible, terrified that he’d made an incompetent fool of himself in front of you and that you wouldn’t want to stay - but you surprised him.

You always surprised him.

You’d comforted him, pecking him on the cheek before pulling the menu for China Garden off of his fridge, asking him what he wanted as you dialed the number into your phone. You ate your takeout together in front of the TV, poking fun at the overrated rom-com rather than actually paying attention. After the credits, you’d excitedly handed him a fortune cookie - giggling as you counted down from three - insisting that you open them together.

Seungmin could no longer remember what his own had said, though yours would forever reside in the most cherished part of his memories - even without having it physically in his hands.

“The love of your life is right in front of you.”

You’d teased that maybe it had been talking about the male lead in the movie that you’d just watched, but quickly changed your tune at the gaping of Seungmin’s mouth - laughing at your own dumb joke before launching yourself into his lap, smothering his face in kisses until his angry facade broke down into tittering laughter.

He placed it delicately, as though it would break, into your box of things before picking up your photo-keychain. It held three photobooth-style pictures. The first was of the two of you posing politely - your smile brilliant and glowing, while Seungmin’s seemed more relaxed. In the second photo, you’d puffed out your cheeks and made a funny expression, Seungmin looking towards you with visible affection in his gaze. In the third, his hand had been on your cheek, the camera catching the tiny space between his lips and yours before he’d kissed you.

He’d kissed you deeply and desperately, as though trying to give you every bit of love through his lips. It was an amazing kiss. A kiss that the two of you swore to never forget.

A kiss that lasted until a disgruntled patron flung the curtain open, unhappy with having to wait so long for their turn.

He breathed out a laugh, ignoring the prickle of tears in his eyes as he remembered you nearly cackling after grabbing the string of photos - head thrown back without a care in the world - as you dragged him away from the booth and the angry line that had formed during your intimate moment.

You’d nearly dragged him back to your apartment after, attacking his mouth with desperate kisses the moment the door shut behind you. Your hands had snaked under his shirt, lifting it over his head in a brief moment of silence before wrapping your hands in his hair.

He stopped himself before he remembered the moments that followed, unsure if remembering the first time you made love would be something he could do without completely breaking down.

It was then that a knock brought his attention to the time - a quarter past three. You’d always been punctual, showing up right on time if not early. Seungmin wished that today, of all days, you’d have been late. That he’d be able to hope you’d tell him you’d changed your mind, that you’d tell him to return your things to their places, that you didn’t want to leave.

These desires brought tears to his eyes as he trudged towards the door, opening it to let you in.

He tried not to stare, though he’d never been able to keep his eyes off of you for long. He noticed that you looked tired, dark circles prominently framing your uncharacteristically dull eyes. You were in a large hoodie and leggings, hair piled atop your head in a messier-than-fashionable bun. This a look he’d typically only seen you have on days where you didn’t feel like ‘peopling,’ as you’d put it.

His heartstrings tugged at the sight of the red rings around your eyes - showing him, at least, that he wasn’t alone in his grief.

You stared at him, too. The lack of color in his cheeks and the disheveled way his hair lay atop his head cracking the cold exterior you’d been determined to wear. When you caught a glimpse of empty cups and bowls around a blanket-covered indent on the couch, the crack broke you completely.

“Hi.”

Your voice came out as more of a choke than actual speech as you stepped inside, sliding off your shoes without breaking eye contact.

“Hey,” he responded, voice thick with obvious strain.

You hated this, every bit of it. The awkwardness that had never existed between the two of you, the heaviness of the air in the apartment you’d once called a second home, the way the typically-confident Seungmin looked sunken in on himself.

“Do you…do you wanna sit down?” he asked, breaking the eye contact to turn towards the couch and reclaim the spot he’d lived in for three days.

You followed him, sitting a polite distance away despite the overwhelming urge to scoop him up into your arms.

Neither of you spoke for several minutes, looking anywhere but at each other. The discomfort in the air was making you anxious enough to absently pick at your nails. You hadn’t quite realized you’d started to do so, not until Seungmin’s shaking hand covered both of yours.

“You’re doing the thing,” he whispered, meeting your widened eyes with a nervousness of his own as he slowly pulled his hands back to his lap.

“Yeah…thanks…” you returned, separating your hands from themselves so as not to fall back into the nervous habit.

You wondered if it were possible to actually suffocate in silence, exhaling a deep sigh at the same time Seungmin had done the same. You looked into his eyes, giving a soft smile to break the tension - heart clenching in your chest as he did the same, looking away in an attempt to disallow you seeing the way his eyes welled with tears.

He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Seungmin…” you reached a hand out to touch his shoulder, only to be stopped short by the man sounding smaller than you’d ever heard.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, a humorless laugh leaving his lips, “Please, don’t comfort me right now. It’ll…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, “It’ll just make it harder. Please.”

“I still care about you, Min,” you sighed, placing your hand against the thin cotton of his tee despite his protests, “I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you hurt.”

“Why, then?” he whispered, shoulder immediately shaking under your careful touch. You could hear the thickness in his voice, something so foreign to you until the last month you’d spent with him that now felt too painfully familiar, “Why just…leave me? Like it’s nothing…”

It felt as if he’d reached into your chest and gripped your heart with all of his strength then, briefly knocking the wind out of you as a mixture of angry and anguished tears sprung to your eyes.

“You think it was easy, Min?” you choked, trying and failing to keep your emotions in check, “You think it was easy for me to leave? I tried, Seungmin…I tried my best for as long as I could I just –”

“You just gave up on me,” he muttered, trying to sound annoyed though it came out sounding much more pathetic than he’d hoped, “You gave up on us, without a second thought.”

“Do you really believe I didn’t think this through?” you asked, incredulousness dulled significantly by the way your voice distorted through tears, “Do you really think I’d have left if things were fine?”

"I'm not saying they were fine," he near-whined, leading you to drop your hand from his shoulder to rest atop his own - a clenched fist against his thigh relaxing just enough to bring color back to his knuckles at the gesture, “I’m just saying…we could’ve been. We were once.”

“Min–”

“No, let me say this!” he pled, finally looking back towards you. The desperation in his voice and rivers from his eyes made it impossible for you to argue. You nodded, encouraging him to continue, “You…you asked what we were even fighting for,” he flipped his hand, lacing his fingers smoothly between yours comfortably, “You asked that like there’s nothing good here.”

“I–”

“I’m not done,” he whispered, a reminder moreso than a reprimand, “Do you really think that way? That there’s nothing here worth fighting to save?”

“I never said there wasn’t, Minnie, I just–”

“You just what? Forgot?” his words were bitter, but not meant to hurt you. He was trying to understand. Trying to figure out exactly when and where you decided that a relationship with him no longer held any value.

“We’ve been fighting so much,” you tried to explain, squeezing his fingers between yours in an attempt to reassure him despite the weight your words held.

“Why does that have to negate everything else, love?”

The softness of his tone combined with the affectionate petname broke you - completely, irreversibly, down to the very core of your being - as you let out a sob.

And then another.

And another.

Until you were letting out each bit of pain you’d been hiding behind assurances of being fine when your friends would ask how you were feeling. Until you were shaking, tears flowing rather than falling from your tired eyes. Until Seungmin’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest with the gentle strength that only he’d been able to show you.

“Please don’t cry…” he spoke into your hair, breath tickling your ear as his fingers danced along your back in comforting circles, “Please…I didn’t mean to make you cry…”

You couldn’t respond, fully drowned in the emotions you’d been refusing to accept for the last few days. You didn’t want to leave in the first place, having said goodbye in the midst of rage and hurt. It was only because you didn’t want to seem like a pushover, mind swayed easily by an apology, that you hadn’t ran immediately back into his arms.

“Love, please, look at me…” he urged, trying to pull back from your trembling frame with little to no success. Your fists held tightly to the back of his shirt, pressing your face in the center of his chest as you finally allowed yourself to let go.

Finally allowed yourself to feel.

He simply held you then, allowing your ragged breaths to slow back to a pace less concerning on their own time, content - as messed up as it may be - to just be able to hold you. Even if it were the last time.

The steadiness of your breath, followed by the relaxing of your hands as they slid from their hold on his back, made him realize that you had - as you often did after crying - fallen asleep. He considered waking you up, reminding you of why you’d come here. That would be the right thing to do, all things considered. But he didn’t want to do the right thing, not this time. Not if it meant letting you go.

So, as selfishly as one could perform such an innocuous act, Seungmin planted a gentle kiss to your forehead and fell asleep. He slept holding you to his chest with an innocent possessiveness - scared to let go, the possibility of you being gone when he opened his eyes being far too real for his liking.

The sun had long since set when you awoke, wrapped in the comfort of a pair of arms you’d be able to identify even if it weren’t for the soft glow of the lamp. You swallowed hard, wondering if you’d managed to make some kind of mistake running to Seungmin for comfort. You sat up, carefully placing his hands back down to his sides so as not to disturb his slumber.

He looked peaceful, despite puffiness evident around his eyes. You didn’t want to hurt him, but knew that sticking around might just give him false hope - which, you realized, you may have already done sleeping in his arms.

Even if it was the best rest you’d gotten since you’d left.

You rose from the couch, careful to avoid the parts of the floor you’d learned would creak, and made your way to the bedroom - ready to gather your things. Atop the plush comforter you’d bought him for his birthday - insisting that his thin blanket was far from enough to aid in a restful sleep - was a box.

Your name was written on the box in Seungmin’s surprisingly neat handwriting, showing you that despite feeling hurt he’d still prioritized making life easier for you.

Your chest ached.

You padded over to the bed, sitting on the edge before pulling the box into your lap. Its contents were mostly mundane - shampoo and face wash, a toothbrush and comb, a few shirts you’d left behind. Those didn’t matter so much, though. Especially not after the shine of the moon off of glass caught your eye.

You lifted the perfume bottle slowly, turning it in your palm as you remembered the absolute joy on Seungmin’s face when he’d presented it to you. He’d never been one to outwardly show such excitement, opting instead to appear aloof in most situations, but that day? That day he was like a proud puppy who had just brought the ball back during fetch, eagerly anticipating the praise and happiness of his counterpart.

You placed it back in the box, blinking away tears as you felt the familiar plastic of the keychain you’d gotten beneath your fingers. You didn’t need to pull it from the box to know what it was - the memories of that day burned into your brain for the rest of your life. The memory of the way he’d kissed his way into your heart that day was precious - even now, knowing it was ending.

Seungmin had woken up whilst you were looking through the box, instantly feeling cold as he realized you were nowhere to be seen. Had you left already? Without so much as a goodbye? He rose to his feet in a panic, checking the entryway for your shoes. He felt as though a ton of bricks had been pulled from his chest as he realized your worn down sneakers were still there, unmoved.

Knowing you were still here made it much easier for Seungmin to move slowly, peering into each room as he searched for you. He considered calling your name, but quickly decided against it, not wanting to risk waking you - just in case you’d curled up in bed.

He heard you before he saw you - a soft sniffle followed by poorly contained sobs. He quickened his pace then, sprinting towards the doorway to the bedroom, completely prepared to comfort you as long as you’d let him.

You’d picked up the fortune from the box, holding it gingerly between two fingers whilst covering your mouth with your free hand.

“Are you alright?” he spoke through panting breaths from the combination of the speed at which he reached you and panic at your cries.

You looked up from the words - the love of your life is right in front of you - and felt any remaining anger from the arguments the two of you had melt away.

“Are you okay?” his brows knit together in confusion as you remained quiet, glancing back and forth between him and the wrinkled fortune you pinched between your fingers.

“Minnie,” you started, fighting against every bit of fear, “I…”

He sat next to you then, tilting his head to the side as he waited for what you had to say.

“I want to stay.”

His entire face changed, then. Brows raising, eyes widening, jaw dropping all in a display of shock. He carefully put his hand on your knee, speaking barely above a whisper, “You mean..?”

“I mean I wanna stay, Min. I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna leave you, I want us to work, I want–”

You were cut off by his lips crashing into your own, needy without being forceful as his strong hands cupped both sides of your face. You both cried openly then, sharing uneven breaths between your mouths as all of the hurt - and relief - swept through you at once. You moved your lips against his with fervor, relishing in the moment you thought you’d never experience again.

When the two of you pulled back, your bloodshot eyes met in a knowing glance - he didn’t need to say anything for you to know how much he missed you. He understood just as well, pressing his forehead to yours rather than saying anything at all.

You knew right then that everything would be okay. It had to be, after all.

The love of your life was right in front of you.

#seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #skz fanfiction #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #seungmin hurt and comfort #replay - seungmin #seungmin romance #skz oneshots

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whencallstheheart · 1 year

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Hi! I just wanted to start off by saying I’ve followed this blog for several years and wanted to thank you for the time and work you put into it. I know it wasn’t always easy, especially when morale was low among the fandom.

I plan on catching up on the last few seasons since I stopped watching at the end of season 8. I just didn’t understand the choice to put Elizabeth and Lucas together, but I’m so excited to get back into the show with the recent turn of events. I feel like the excitement has been reignited and I love it!

Do you think this was always their plan? To have Elizabeth initially choose Lucas and then break them up later on. I personally think the new show runner came in and possibly changed it up. Which I’m glad she did if that’s the case.

There are so many more stories to tell with Nathan and Elizabeth in my opinion and I feel like they have a lot more in common.

Thank you so much! That really means a lot to me. We've been through a ridiculous amount of drama for a little Hallmark show but we're still here!

I sort of made the choice to just go with the flow after season 8 and it paid off. I'm genuinely enjoying the show a lot and I'm having fun. I hope others can feel the same again... or maybe even for the first time. This is a new chapter and it's really exciting. I think it would be a much more enjoyable viewing experience for those of you wanting to catch up now knowing where things end up.

This sort of piggybacks off the previous ask with the whole showrunner switch-up. I really have no idea what happened there or who it was who pushed for it to be Lucas in the first place when everyone and their grandma knew it should've been Nathan. It was such a bold choice and one they had to have made intentionally at the time. I really don't think it was the plan to break them up going into it. They made the controversial choice and wanted the audience to go along with them and trust the direction. I don't know. Maybe it always was the plan but it doesn't feel like it given season 9, you know?

I agree. I think there's a lot more they can do with the Mountie and the teacher... as the series was intended to be about all along. Dan messed that up for us but now we can get back to the heart of the show (with an even better Mountie)!

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24mirrorshards · 1 year

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The Value of Hatred

So many conversations about recovering from abuse push the idea of forgiving your abusers, but so few acknowledge the value in just letting yourself hate them and hate what they did for a while - in letting yourself safely process that anger.

When you continuously harbor sympathetic sentiments towards people who seriously hurt you as I have for many, many years, the pain and resentment and hatred you feel towards the abusive actions they deliberately took on you doesn't go away.

Do you know what happens to it?

When you continue to sympathize with someone who was terrible to you, you begin to understand where they were coming from. You may begin to believe some of what they believed. All of that anger that you carried for them eventually gets misfired at people who didn't earn it. Maybe it's yourself. Maybe it's the people in your life. Usually, it's both.

Sometimes, the anger you feel towards yourself or others, while disproportionate, has some legitimacy in the present; perhaps you or your friends and loved ones could do better. But, more often than not, it consists mostly of sentiments towards an abusive figure that went unexpressed because it simply wasn't safe to express them, and something in the present simply reignited them. (Also, it is possible to express and deal with present hurt, anger, disappointment, and frustration with yourself and others without unproductive hostility, but I'll get to that later.)

Now, I'm not saying you should call up your abusers and chew them out or burn down their houses or anything like that, as satisfying as it might sound in the moment. Please remember that contact with an abuser is rarely if ever fruitful. But, if you ever find yourself wondering (as I have many times) - "Why is it that I can find myself seething with rage over a minor disagreement or misunderstanding or mistake, but I can only feel cornered and helpless when it comes to the truly awful things that have happened to me? Why do I sometimes feel like I hate absolutely everyone except the person who hurt me the most?" you might need to spend some time just feeling how much you hate what they did.

Maybe you can write some "fuck you" letters that you never send. Maybe you can do some active imagination (basically internal RP with yourself) in which you can revisit certain interactions with them and speak what was unsafe to in those moments. Whatever you choose to do, you have to give yourself space and license to be honest about how god-awful their actions were and how much you hate what they did before you can truly "let go" of that anger, so it does not end up backfiring onto yourself or your loved ones.

As far as disproportionate reactions to present hurts go, I do not think they should go unaddressed. Clear communication is important for everyone, but I believe it is especially important for abuse survivors because it can save us both from getting revictimized and from victimizing others. If you find yourself frustrated with yourself or with someone you know in the present, give yourself some time to think through it and then ask yourself "if somebody else had this same problem with me, how would I want them to let me know?" and go from there. Don't blow up, but don't blow off, either!

The tl;dr bottom line of all this is - if you tolerate cruel or hostile behavior from someone you are close to, and you continue to sympathize with them, you will eventually come to tolerate cruelty and hostility in yourself. In order to prevent this from happening, you must practice being absolutely intolerant of what you endured in your thoughts, while still being mindful of how you are reacting to present situations.

#abuse #long post #recovery #thoughts #trauma

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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 9 months

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This is for the end of year writer fanfic thing! Sorry I do have a few of them, but 10, 16, 24, 35 if you wouldn’t mind awnsering them :)

Oooh, thanks!! And no worries about having a few, I love answering these things, ha. ^-^

I'll put the answers in a read-more since I always write way too much in response to these, ha.

Fanfic Writer End of Year Ask Game

10. What character did you fall in love with this year?

Hmmm... It's hard to say, since most of the media I've consumed this year are continuations of previous series I already loved, so I've not really "fallen" in love with any character I don't think. However! I did gain a much deeper appreciation of Bowser as a character thanks to the movie. I had never thought of him much before, but now I think he's a cool character, ha. I also fell back in love with Loki. I always had a soft spot for Loki, especially after Dark World (which, ironically, was my first Thor movie. I'd seen Avengers before it so I knew the characters, but I'd refused to see Thor with my brother and dad when it came out when I was... 13 I think?), but it wanes whenever Loki media dries up. But season 2 of Loki reignited my love of the character and I hope that he comes back again in a later film. <3

16. What ship stole your heart this year?

Hmmm I also had a few here... Bowuigi is one. BlackBonnet (Blackbeard/Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet from Our Flag Means Death) is another big one. I forget the ship name, but Geralt and Jaskier from The Witcher, to a lesser degree. Currently it's Loki and Mobius from Loki, since they are just so cute together in season 2, it's honestly adorable.

24. Is there a fic you wish you hadn't posted?

Hmm... no, I don't think so! I have a love for all of my fics, even the ones that make me cringe in retrospect. It's why I still keep my old FF . net account around and don't delete my old fics (though I will never link anyone to it!! The writing on the older fics is definitely a product of my age at the time). Part of me wonders if I shouldn't have posted my Bowuigi fic, Luigi and the Beast, since I don't think I'll ever finish it, but I don't regret posting it. Even if I never finish, a lot of people liked it, so it has value for that alone.

35. What words of advice do you have for yourself and other writers?

Honestly? Just write. Write how YOU want to write, not how you think other people want you to write. I always compare my writing to other people's and it is draining to see my writing style after comparing it to others, since mine is very different to what I usually see. I add a lot of introspection and emotion into my fics, since that's what personally interests me, and I always get concerned that people won't like it, or it's not mainstream enough, or whatever. Especially since I write like I think, which includes lots of pauses and emphasis on certain words, which comes across as a lot of... ellipses... and an overabundance of italics that I can't help but notice. Plus, I reuse words and phrases a lot. But honestly? People still like my writing despite it. Hell, some might like it because of it. I've gotten a lot of people who compliment my writing style and say I'm a really good writer, and while I struggle to see myself in that way, it does show that people will like what you do even if you sometimes don't. As long as you are enjoying the writing process and you want to write it, write it. I've tried to censor myself with writing, not using as many ellipses and italics, and you know what? I hated it. It didn't feel authentically me and it made writing a drag sometimes. Once I let go and did whatever, writing was a lot more fun and engaging to me. Is the writing perfect? Hell no. Is the writing uniquely mine and something I wanted to write? Hell yes.

Anyway, thanks for the ask!! I always love answering these things, so thanks for sending some in. :-D

#ask answers #personal post #ask game

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sadbi-hours · 2 years

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Title: hope in my bones; rock-'n'-roll on my phone [Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall]

Rating: R

Pairing(s): Nick Goode/Ziggy Berman, Cindy Berman/Tommy Slater, and Alice Hart/Tommy Slater/Cindy Berman

A/N: I love both of The Last of Us video games, played them multiple times...and I would love to pay an aesthetic homage to them through my writing. I hope to someday be able to do so, without being exhausted by the world building involved. We'll see what happens...

Image Credits: Banner made by me with the help of PicsArt and Google Images

Created for :

@anyfandomgoesbingo: Custom Card- Zicky Ship Bing: B3- Dystopian AU

@anyfandomdarkbingo: N4- Dystopian AU

@anyfandomaubingo: G5-Zombie Apocalypse

@fandombingo: B4-Apocalypse AU

@mfbingo: I1-Dark

Description:

Two counties in Ohio, Sunnyvale and Shadyside; quarantined off from the rest of society after a natural disaster.

That was in 1978. Now, sixteen years later, the entirety of structured civilization is gone—and all that's left is a smattering of survivors left to find their way around a new world order.

Nick:

Civilization came to an end on a summer night on July 19th; all because Nick Goode wouldn't write a name on the wall and reignite the Goode family's pact with the devil.

He ends the town curse, all for some unrequited crush on a Shadysider. Except it's not so unrequited as he thought...

Ziggy Berman likes him, as much as Nick Goode likes her. But the devil is a petty bitch, and no Goode is meant to have a happily ever-after... and Nick, he especially isn't meant to have Ziggy's love.

Because no matter how hard he's tried to escape it, Nick Goode had a destiny. He was to become sheriff; it was always written in the cards for him, somehow to continue on his father's legency.

But with 1994 nearing an end, and with the dead walking around and infecting people—and the town's growing desolation on both sides of the coin.

He's slowly becoming the one and only enforcing the law, followed by a small group of volunteer deputies, who help keep what's left of Sunnyvale and Shadyside population in check—and alive.

Ziggy:

She never thought she'd get out of Shadyside. It seemed more likely that a bus 'd hit her on her way out, then it was escaping towards something better.

She thought the curse of Shadyside would kill her, not the walking dead.

But then, Nick Goode had wished her back to life... and promptly abandoned her soon after.

And now, sixteen years have passed and she can't die. Not by the dead walking around looking to eat anything with a heartbeat, not an illness or a shot to the head can keep her down long.

Ziggy's died so many times, only to come back to life for her to remember the exact count. She's still cursed, but no longer for being born on the wrong side of the tracks. She's cursed by her first love, to live forever in the devil's playground.

It's almost enough to make her loathe him, and on some level she does... but she can admit, even if only to herself, that some day's she misses seeing Nick Goode smile at her.

Alice:

"We all have our ways of dealing with living in Shadyside."

She had once said that...and had meant it then, wholeheartedly. But how do you find a way to deal with the whole world gone to shit? No escape for somewhere better?

Does she keep cutting herself? Fuck no, that just attracts those fucking walking demons on your ass... and she's not looking to be one of those fuckers happy meal.

Does she keep on partying, having meaningless sex, and taking mindless drugs? No, because even if those things still existed for her to do and take part in, she's got a sixteen-year-old son to take care of... and she'd rather die, then be the kind of the parent her's had been to him.

So, how do you survive in this new and messed up way of life? She honestly doesn't know the answer, she just keeps trucking on... and hoping for something better. For something more...

Cindy & Tommy:

Nothing was ever going to keep Cindy Berman stuck in Shadyside, not Tommy or Alice. Not even her sister, Ziggy. She was escaping the Curse of Shadyside no matter what it took for her to do so.

But then the dead didn't stay dead. Instead, they got up and ate people... and Cindy knew in that moment she was never leaving Shadyside behind, unless it was with her life.

And she was right. Her last breath saved her from ever having to go back to Shadyside again.

Until some preppy Sunnyvaler with a crush on her sister, brought her back to life and stuck her forever in the one place she's only ever wanted to escape from, never to die. Immune to death. Her sister might have trouble hating him for dooming them to hell, but Cindy has no quarrels, wanting to burn the asshole alive.

Sheriff Nick Goode, the one and only true law around their crumbling hometown. Keeping law and order; what a crock. Nick has only ever been out for what he's wanted, like any other Goode throughout the generations.

Only this Goode has ended the world--and he's also the only one who can help her stop the apocalypse...and end the Berman Sister's curse.

Fucking Nick Goode. She wished she'd put her axe through his head a long time ago...

21 notes · View notes

dameafterdark · 4 years

Text

Fanning the Flames [Roy Mustang x Black Femme Reader]

CW: workplace sex, oral sex, vaginal penetration, blow job, body worship, pubic hair, making out, light femdom, tickling, enthusiastic consent, boss/employee relationship, semi-public sex, porn with plot, BBW reader

WARNING! The contents of this fic are NSFW! Read at your own risk!

word count: 5769

summary: After transferring to Central Command, you’re determined not to let a certain smooth-talking colonel distract you from your job duties.

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You never could have imagined meeting a man like him when you walked through the doors of Central Command. But then again, trivial things like infatuation and love making were the last thing on your mind. Bright eyed and eager to impress, what mattered most to you were your ambitions. You didn’t have time to fool around with romance; a cushy job in Central was everything you could have hoped for as a fairly new recruit. And besides, the higher ups didn’t look too kindly upon fraternizing.

You had heard of the twenty-something aspiring general long before you sent in your letter of acceptance, but didn't think much of him. You learned long ago not to get involved with military gossip, especially the kind that involved sleazeballs like him. You know, the type of man that flirted with anything on two legs with a pretty face. You barely liked guys on a good day, so you were certain you’d have no trouble rejecting his advances. Lay low and work hard was the motto you repeated to yourself every morning as you ironed your uniform.

Unfortunately, your name was on everyone’s lips before you had the chance to introduce yourself. It couldn’t have been avoided, and you were naive to think it could. Being the only non-native Amestrian in the Central forces was mostly to blame, but you figured your looks also had something to do with your sudden popularity. After all, you were below average height, and your round curves rivaled the thin waifish figures of most Amestrian women. It definitely wasn’t the “ideal” body of a soldier, but that never stopped you in the past. Your brown skin, head full of tight curls, and full lips were impossible for others to ignore. You demanded attention whenever you entered a room, whether you wanted it or not.

And as soon as the two of you made acquaintances, you knew something was bound to happen eventually.

From the moment he uttered that first sultry “Hello” and took your gloved hand in his, kissing the back of it like he was some sort of prince out of a fairy tale, your heart decided on its feelings faster than your brain could process. He pushed the knife in deeper with a little coy smirk that made your breath hitch and your stomach tighten.

“(Y/N), at your service,” you stated, doing your best to hide the tremor in your voice. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Colonel Mustang.”

“Please,” he said as he let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving your own. “Call me Roy.”

Those four little words sparked the first ember, and from then on you walked with fire in your chest and heat pressed against your cheeks. And no matter how often you dampened those flames, they always reignited into an inferno.

You weren't the one to give into your primal urges, though. You were a professional, for God’s sake, and after clawing your way up through the ranks you’d be damned to throw away years of hard work for a pair of bedroom eyes. Especially when so many others only saw your job offer as an Affirmative Action-esque handout.

It’s not worth it, you’d mumble under your breath while sorting through piles of paperwork, doing your best to avoid meeting the colonel’s gaze as he sat across the room from you. Knowing what might transpire if you did. For weeks you daydreamed about making that connection with those steely grey eyes that followed your shapely figure wherever you walked, most likely imagining what was underneath. Truthfully, you wanted him to want you. You desired to be desired by the man that tossed out flirtatious remarks right after another, remarks you pretended to hate yet secretly made you giddy. Steely eyed with a boyish charm, he was 100% your type. And you had no idea what to do about it.

At first, you resisted him under the pretense of “work professionalism” and your “commitment to duty”. Sure, you'd play with him a little every now and then just to watch him squirm. Pursing your lips in the shape of a kiss whenever you caught him staring, bending over with the right side showing after “accidentally” dropping something in front of him, giving him a peek at the black skin tight crop top you wore in lieu of a bra whenever you stretched your arms.

And he'd respond by taking every opportunity to get close to you. Like placing a hand on your waist whenever he moved past you and letting it linger a few seconds longer than it should have, or coming up behind you to whisper something in your ear until goosebumps lined your spine.

“Your uniform is looking pristine today, (Y/N),” he complimented you one day after you dropped off another pile of urgent documents on his desk. “But I know something that will look better on you.”

You rolled your eyes in response, but decided to humor him.

“And what would that be, sir?”

“Me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you made your leave. Sure, it was predictable, but it was earnest, and the more desperate he got the more it amused you.

It was all in good fun, at least in the beginning. But after the first couple months, you could sense his growing agitation as each day passed. His movements became strained, his eyes hungrier, his muscles more tense. One day, as you sat at the edge of his desk with your ass just inches away from his hand, you could visibly see him clench his fist as if fighting against an insatiable urge. The sight gave you a rush of power unlike any other.

By the end of your three month mark, the entire department was making bets on when the two of you would finally hook up. Which became a nuisance in the eyes of one person in particular.

That’s right, it wasn’t just your position you had to worry about. Although most of the other military members were quite welcoming to you on that first day, First Lieutenant Hawkeye was the exception. She gave meaning to the phrase “if looks could kill”. Sure, you pretended not to notice the daggers she shot in your direction every time you dared to banter with the roguishly handsome colonel, but that didn’t make it any less intimidating. However, you were no stranger to workplace rivalry, especially in the military. No blondie was going to run you out, not after you worked your ass off to get there.

All of your resolve, however, was put to the test one fateful Friday evening.

Central Command was nearly empty. The rest of the officers had gone home for the day (or were sent home, in Hawkeye’s case, but you didn’t find that out until much later). Apart from a few stragglers hanging around in the hallways, you were pretty much the only one left… apart from him, of course. You’d only been there for a few months, so you had taken every opportunity to build your reputation as a workaholic, refusing to go home unless ordered to. You were hoping it would show your diligence and dedication to the right people. You could practically taste the promotion, you just had to hang in there a little longer. If you could resist the colonel for another few months, you’d be a shoe in. You just knew it.

You headed towards his office to drop off one last pile of paperwork. One he was certain to ignore until the following week, but at least it would’ve been out of your hands and his responsibility. You gave the door a quiet, yet firm knock with the back of your knuckles and waited for permission to enter.

“Come in,” he crooned, his voice sounding more alluring than authoritative.

You opened the door slowly, clutching the thick pile against your chest before heading inside. When it closed behind you, you clicked your ankles together and gave your colonel a firm salute.

“At ease,” He said off-handedly, placing the file he had in hand onto his desk. You heard him crunching on something, most likely one of those peppermints he always kept by the phone. He focused his rigid eyes onto you, clasping his hands together to form a small tent for his chin to rest on.

“The paperwork you requested, sir,” You gave a staunch reply, hoping to hide the nervous butterflies that suddenly began to flutter about in your belly. Ah, what was it about that look in his eye that made you feel so skittish? It wasn’t so intimidating when there were people around, but now that you were finally alone...

“I told you, there’s no need for these formalities when it’s just the two of us.”

“With all due respect, this was how I was trained. Sir,” You put extra emphasis on that last title and flashed him a cheeky grin, knowing how much he loved hearing you call him that. It did something to you, seeing his breath hitch and his grip tighten. If he was attempting to hide his arousal, he was doing a pretty shoddy job.

“Were you also trained to put in 12 hour days without clearance?”

Welp. He got you there. So much for all that overtime pay. Not like it would've been approved by HR, anyway.

“...No, sir. But you asked to have these forms done by the end of the week, and I promised to follow through.”

The colonel raised an eyebrow in amusement, not bothering to show restraint as he looked you up and down. The way his eyes were devouring you was enough to make you question all your morals.

“Or maybe you were just looking for an excuse to get me alone.”

You felt your face heat up at his comment, which only got worse when he flashed that usual shit eating grin of his.

“And what if I was?”

“Then I’d forbid you from working so hard and offer to take you out instead.”

You blinked a few times in disbelief, unsure how to interpret his words.

“...What?”

“You’re still pretty new to Central, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, I doubt you’ve gotten the chance to really explore the city. I could be your tour guide.”

“Are you…?”

“Asking you out? Affirmative.”

Your lips parted in shock, then formed into a grin as the corners of your lips crept up.

“Isn’t that a bit inappropriate, colonel?”

“It could be. But only if you wanted that.”

“Sir.”

“Please, (Y/N), I said call me Roy. We’re close enough now, aren’t we?”

“...Roy,” his first name was unfamiliar on your tongue, yet rolled off like smooth silk. It felt odd to call your superior out of his title, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

“Yes?”

“Your offer is tempting, but I’ll have to decline. I can’t risk losing my position.”

“Who has to know?”

“People talk, you know.”

“Then let's give them something to talk about.”

It was corny, but genuine. You could tell he was really trying, perhaps as an attempt to live up to his womanizer reputation. It made you wonder if that was all an act.

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you come here and find out.”

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have hesitated to obey a command from your superior. But hearing him toss aside the suggestive comments for a more direct method of flirting had taken your head for a spin. After months of playful teasing that usually led to nowhere, you suddenly found yourself on a direct course to somewhere.

It was foolish to fall for a man like him, but there wasn’t a single thing stopping you from taking the plunge. You were about to dive in headfirst without bothering to take a breath.

“Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to come to you.”

He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back so he could come round the desk and make his way towards you. Your heartbeat steadily increased the closer he got, pounding against your rib cage until it felt like you’d explode. In just a few short seconds, the colonel’s face was inches away from your own and you could practically smell the peppermint candy he had been sucking on just moments ago. You didn’t realize that you’d backed up against the wall until his right arm was suddenly beside your head. He leaned in close until you could smell of his expensive cologne wafting in the air. It reminded you of your dad’s aftershave, with hints of sandalwood and bergamot.

You’d never been so close to the colonel before and hadn’t realized how much height he had on you. He wasn’t anywhere close to being six feet, but you had always been on the shorter side, and the confidence oozing from his aura was making you feel three inches tall.

“(Y/N),” he said with a stern tone. “I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to give me your honest answer.”

“Sure.”

“That’s an order.”

“... Yes, sir.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes boring holes into you as you waited with stalled breath for him to go on. A few moments passed; you noticed part of his face twitch before he took a big gulp.

Was Roy Mustang… nervous?

“Do you…” He finally spit out after several long seconds. “Do you… want this to go any further?”

You stood there quietly for a moment, wondering if you’d do permanent damage to his ego if you toyed with him any longer. You decided on a mix of genuine honesty and playful taunting, just to keep him on his toes.

“What kind of woman do you take me for, Roy?” you teased, crossing your arms while donning an amused smirk.

“A phenomenal one,” he half-whispered. “One I’d be honored to know more intimately.”

“And once you’ve known me?” you said, meeting his famished gaze. “What will happen?”

“Whatever you want. I could give you space. I could never give you space again. It’s your choice.”

“My superior has handed me the reins,” you goaded gleefully. “What will our colleagues think when they hear of this?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” he growled with an unfamiliar sense of urgency. “If you want this… whatever this is, to end here, just say the word and I’ll obey without question. This will never happen again, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

You fell silent, your smile fading away as the conversation began to fall out of your favor.

“But,” he continued, letting out a sharp exhale. “...If you’ll have me. We could m-”

You silenced him with a kiss on the lips, one that left him red faced and dazed. It was a risky move, but one you were more than willing to take. You pulled away after a few seconds and held back a chuckle when you saw his shocked expression; certainly, those long months spent building up tension had paid off. Armed with a silver tongued response, you let your words sink into him like teeth in supple skin. You leaned in close until your breath wisped across his ear.

“Does that answer your question?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and mouth agape for a few moments before pulling you into his embrace once more, kissing you deeply.

His kiss was ravenous, but his hands rivaled that hunger, taking in palmfuls of you as much as he could with all those layers of uniform covering your body. You felt his tongue against your own and relished the sweet peppermint flavor while strong hands slid under the fabric of your outerwear, causing your back to arch further into his grasp. You felt his hands on your back and then again on your hips, groping every curve until his appetite was satiated.

Desperate to get closer, he suddenly pushed you against the wall and grabbed the backs of your thighs as he prepared to lift you up. You let out a tiny yelp a little too late, a weak attempt to warn him of your weight, but your words failed to reach his ears and soon you found yourself in the arms of the Flame Alchemist. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as his hands rested comfortably on your ass, cradling each cheek in his wide palms. You looked down, realizing that your concern for his strength was unfounded. It was as if he was carrying a basket of feathers; there wasn’t any sign of strain to be found in his expression. Your anxiety returned to passion while your hands found their way into the jet black fields of his hair. You found yourself grabbing fistfuls of it as you kissed him deeper and deeper, smiling against his lips every time he moaned from the action.

Abruptly, he pulled away, eyes soft with desire and longing. You opened your mouth to speak, but he silenced you with another wet kiss before carrying you towards the burgundy couch on the other side of the room.

He laid you down carefully on the velvet cushions, as if you were made of delicate porcelain. Your uniform was already in shambles; the hem of your top coat had ridden up, exposing your disheveled black undershirt and your lack of a bra, and your outer apron was practically on backwards. He took in the sight for a moment; his eyes lost in a lustful haze before finally doing something about it. He dug his fingers under the waistband of your pants in search of the buckle, causing you to let out a surprised squeal right before bursting into giggles.

“Stahahap!” You weakly batted his hands away. “It tickles!”

You were doomed as soon as the words escaped your lips. With the narrowing of his eyes and a mischievous grin, he placed his fingers in the same spot you just pushed him away from and dug into your belly with a gentle, yet maddening touch.

“Ticklish?” He asked, already knowing the answer. You would’ve spat back a retort had you not been laughing so hard. Feeling him wriggle around in such a sensitive area was more than you could handle at the moment.

“Aaaaah! Roy!! Nooohoho!”

“Ah, now she calls me Roy. Who knew all I had to do to get you to obey me was to tickle you.”

“Nonononono- AAAH!”

Your little outburst was due to him raking his nails down the length of your now-exposed sides, which made you arch your back and push yourself further into his grasp once again. He quit the unbearable wriggling, trading them for soft and gentle strokes, but even those were enough to make you squirm. Your laughs quieted down to muted giggles, ones you tried to mask by covering your mouth with both hands. He took care of that swiftly, taking both wrists into one of his big hands and pinning them above your head. You could feel the heat radiating from his palm, and it made you sweat even more.

“There will be none of that,” He said with an amused smile, looking you up and down as you laid there at his total mercy. Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks, and you quietly thanked whatever deity was out there for giving you so much melanin.

“Aaahaha… pleeease…” You half-heartedly begged, not for his hands to leave your skin but to continue touching the rest of you.

His free hand trailed up your side, purposefully tickling your bronze skin every inch of the way up until it reached your chest. Now only protected by a thin layer of dark cotton, he began to caress one of your budding nipples as it poked through the fabric of your undershirt. You let out a small moan, unable to hold yourself back. He gave the same attention to your other nipple, flicking the swollen tip until you began to whine. The gentle stimulation was enough to drive you wild, despite the fact that he had barely touched you.

“Why don’t we remove this troublesome uniform so I can find your other sensitive spots?” He cooed, eager to continue his exploration of your body. He released your wrists momentarily and waited for you to undress. You rolled your eyes but obliged, pulling off your unbuttoned top coat and white gloves while he got to work on his own clothes. You scoffed at him as he fumbled around with his own gloves and pants; you assumed the colonel would be a pro by now, with all the “experience” he bragged about having with the ladies, but seeing him awkwardly stumble around like a preteen about to lose his virginity was enough to make you laugh out loud. He put an end to it quickly, however, with another scurry of fingers up your sides. You shrieked again, curling up into yourself to get away from those torturous touches.

“How dare you mock your superior,” he joked, finally managing to undo his belt buckle. His pants slid off unceremoniously; he kicked them across the room and flinched when they landed on an expensive vase, subsequently knocking it over and shattering into pieces. You covered your mouth again, failing to hide another laugh. However, one look at his dejected expression made you regret poking fun at him.

“This is not exactly how I imagined this going,” He mumbled, furrowing his brows in frustration.

“It’s alright. It’s cute.”

“How dare you call your superior officer cute. I should punish you for that.”

“You’re such a big baby. Stop whining and touch me already.”

“Look who’s giving orders now.”

“Shut up and do as you’re told.”

“As you wish, ma’am,” he teased as he leaned forward, pulling your pants down your thick legs and tossing them aside, this time with a bit more care so as not to break any other valuables in the room. All that was left were your black lace panties and matching undershirt.

He unbuttoned his top coat, removed his white undershirt, and placed both of them on the floor beside the couch, and finally it was your turn to admire his form. You knew the Flame Alchemist was strong after fighting in two different wars, but you had never gotten the chance to see his body in its full glory without the layers of his uniform hiding it away. The muscles in his arms bulged with every movement, complemented by thick veins that ran from the back of his hands to his forearms. He must have been committed to his core workouts as well; he had a well defined six pack that rose and fell with each haggard breath he took. It was enough to make you go feral. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to caress his milky pale skin, which flinched at the sudden contact. It was warm beneath your fingertips, and after a taste you wanted more.

It would have to wait, though, for he was a gentleman and wouldn’t dare come before his lady.

He crouched down and planted a gentle kiss on your stomach as he began his worship of you. Your skin quivered from the tender gesture and you struggled to hold back another tittered reaction for fear of ruining the moment. Biting your lip failed to stifle the giggles bubbling in your throat as he kissed, licked, and sucked every inch of your exposed belly. He flittered his lips along your sides, moving from waist to navel until his tongue dipped into your belly button. Each subtle movement sent electric currents throughout your body, filling you with pleasure as he adored every centimeter of your seldom touched skin.

Moving downwards, his lips grazed your thigh crease as they continued their descent, but when he went to spread your legs you grabbed his shoulders to stop him. He looked up, brows furrowed with worry at your tense expression.

“Wait,” you said as insecurity overcame you. “I don’t… like how I look down there.”

He said nothing, his gaze returning to the empty space between your thighs that he planned to fill himself. He rubbed the tops of your legs with the lightest pressure, making you writhe in place. He looked up at you again with puppy dog eyes, begging for you to let him in.

“May I?”

You hesitated, but nodded in response. He slowly pushed your legs apart, and suddenly you felt more exposed than ever before. The scars that dotted your pantyline were front and center, the ugly browns and bumpy red ridges garnering all the attention from your colonel. Your pubic hair was wild and unkempt, so much that he’d have to sift through the strands like a man on a safari. Surely, seeing these scars, along with the state of your pubic hair, had turned him off completely.

“It’s just… been a while,” you continued your lament. “A long while.”

Still saying nothing, he leaned forward and surprised you with more gentle pecks directly on the scarred skin you had spent years hiding away from the light. He added his tongue, pulling your thin lace panties to the side and carefully spreading your lips so he could begin to feast. That first lick sent your mind soaring to the heavens, causing your hands to clutch the stiff fabric of the couch for leverage. The space between your legs increased as you opened yourself to him, allowing him access to your seldom shared treasure. Your insecurities quickly faded into nothing, and you surrendered to him body and mind.

Admittedly, it took awhile for you to cum. Longer than you wished. But he was dedicated to your pleasure, keeping his face planted between your thighs through every guttural moan or sudden thrash. You made sure to let him know he was doing the job well, your moans growing louder whenever he licked your clit in just the right way. Alternating between sucking and flicking, he finally found the rhythm that suited you best after several long minutes of trial and error. He kept going, refusing to change his pattern until he heard those magic words.

“I’m gonna come,” you cry out in a breathy voice. “I’m gonna come I’m gonna come I’m gonna-”

An explosion of stars in your peripheral, plus the involuntary curling of your toes, told him all he needed to know. Waves of pleasure washed over your body as your mind went fuzzy, like television screens after a long day’s broadcast. Your chest rose and fell in rapid succession, and upon opening your eyes you were greeted by a victorious smirk from your baby-faced superior. He leaned his cheek against your thigh, lazily kissing along your path of scars until he reached your knees.

“You’re amazing,” he uttered in between smooches. His fingers traced constellations in your skin, making you flinch now and then from the ticklish sensations. You tried to grab his hands, but he was faster, and made sure to take advantage of your vulnerability and increased sensitivity by tickling your hips until you screamed.

“And you’re a menace!” You cried out, playfully slapping his cheeks while he laughed at your expense.

Once you regained logical thought, you pushed yourself up and faced your superior officer head on. He had given you a taste of pleasure, but you craved more. You wanted him inside you, and you wanted him your way. It was time for Roy Mustang to take orders.

“Lay down,” You commanded, a sudden authoritativeness washing over you. Roy seemed just as shocked as you, but followed your command willingly. He laid back on the couch across strewn cushions and scattered pillows, allowing you to take full reign over him. He wasn't moving fast enough to your liking, so you pushed him down and wrapped your hand around his throat with enough pressure to hold him in place without affecting his breathing. You kept your thumb and forefinger in the shape of a V, careful not to press down too hard too quickly. Your fingers rested comfortably on the sides of his neck as he looked at you with eyes full of affection.

“(Y/N), I never took you as an aggressive one,” He teased, showing no signs of fighting back.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Roy,” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip and caressed his freshly shaven face as he watched you, holding back from acting on his arousal.

“Well, I’d certainly love to find out.”

You released him from your grasp and carefully stood up on the unstable cushions, lifting your undershirt over your head and sliding your panties down until you were stark naked. Stark naked, in front of your superior officer, who was gaping at you like he’d just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. You crawled on top of him, seizing the waistband of his own briefs before yanking them off unceremoniously. They were discarded next to the couch with the rest of the wrinkled pieces of your uniforms.

Finally, you saw his member in all its glory. It was pale, with a hint of rosy hue, and exactly the right shape for your preferences. If you had to guess, it was at least 8 inches erect. He’d teased you with his dickprint for those long months, aware of how its size and girth demanded your attention every time you were lucky enough to sit next to him in a meeting. How long had you yearned to feel it for yourself?

You took his rock hard penis into your hand, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth before taking it in. You licked the tip with a flicker of your tongue, smiling to yourself when you saw him writhe where he laid. You wrapped your mouth around him as he cried out in pleasure, finally giving him the relief he desired. Your head began to bob up and down as your tongue licked the entirety of his member. You felt it twitch in your mouth every so often as he began to pulsate, grunting every time the tip hit the back of your throat. You suppressed the urge to gag, slowing down whenever that sick feeling arose, then returned to the same deliberate rhythm when the feeling passed. You could tell the ebb and flow was driving him mad. It was time to give him more.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked, ready to go all the way.

He nodded, reaching over the side of the couch in search of his pants. He fumbled around for a bit, letting out a frustrated curse every once in a while before he found what he was looking for. He ripped off the plastic wrapping and pinched the tip as he slid it down over his painfully erect penis.

When he was ready, you climbed on top and spread your legs.

“Do you want me?” you said, pressing the tip of his head into your vagina. He let out a groan and pushed his hips upward, desperate to get deeper inside of you.

“Yes,” he murmured.

“How badly do you want me?”

“I want you so bad,” his pleas became more urgent, almost turning to whimpers. “Please, let me feel you.”

You obliged, taking him into you. You were still quite wet from his masterful oral skills, so his member slid inside easily without much discomfort. The cry of pleasure that came from him almost caused you to stop in place. You lifted yourself up, then back down again, your cheeks making a smacking sound as they slammed against his thighs.

“Fuck,” he sighed with eyes closed, grunting with every long stroke. “You feel so good.”

You silently agree as your body rises and falls in a steady pattern. He feels so good, so unbelievably good inside you, and all you wanted in that moment was to make him feel as good as you did. You bounced around, testing out different angles to see which gave the best reactions, then settled on one and sped up your strokes.

“Tell me you love it,” you demanded, dripping with sweat, seeking affirmation of a job well done.

“I love it. I need it. Please, give me more.”

You could feel him getting close. He squeezed his eyes shut, clutching your hips for dear life as you rode him into dawn and let out more than a few moans of your own.

Finally, he reached his peak. You could feel his warm cum bursting inside you, protected only by the thin lubricated condom. You sat there for some time, delighting in the random pumps and twitches as he continued to burst inside you.

Exhaustion finally hit, and when he pulled you into an embrace you didn’t bother protesting. The two of you laid there for however long, lost in a world of ecstasy. One hand was wrapped around your shoulder while the other stroked your wild curls. You closed your eyes and melted into him, making sure to enjoy the moment as much as possible before it was over.

“Roy,” you spoke up after a long bout of silence. “What happens now?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, continuing to caress your frazzled curls and rubbing the back of your neck every now and then. Seemingly lost in thought.

“I told you,” he spoke up after some time. “You call the shots.”

You clenched your fist as it rested against his chest. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, unwilling to let the excitement go.

“I want more of this. I want more of you.”

He responded by cupping your cheek in one hand, pulling it towards his own face so he could address you properly. For once, you felt shy as you made eye contact with your colonel.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Uh, nothing. I have to tend to my garden, but that won’t take long.”

“Let’s do dinner at 7. Then I’ll tend to your garden afterward.”

He was truly something else. You scoffed at his ridiculous innuendo, gently backhanding him for daring to be so cheesy at such a time. He simply smiled back, pulling you in closer so he could kiss you again, and again, and again.

Work, promotions, envious colleagues… all of that could wait. Right now, you had everything you wanted. You’d figure the rest out later.

After all, you were a phenomenal woman.

#fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang x reader #roy mustang #black reader #black femme reader #reader insert #n/s/f/w #please let me know if i forgot to tag anything!#my first smut #an asexual wrote this please be kind lolol #fmab

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

- Chapter 6 -

When Nie Huaisang was five, almost six, his mother suddenly started to show an interest in him again.

It was all that awful Madame Yu’s fault, Meng Yao thought. It’d started right after the Jiang sect had come to visit, a nice official visit purportedly meant to introduce the two young sons that were about the same age – Madame Yu was Madame Jin’s friend, and therefore hated Meng Shi on her friend’s behalf, but she was so much smarter about it. She was as vicious and poisonous as the spider mentioned in her title, and Meng Yao’s mother was good and talented and sneaky but she was as susceptible to flattery and wiles as anyone else, especially since she’d never been the target of such poisonous words poured into her ear before, all designed to incite her into doing something she’d regret.

Meng Yao figured out what was going on pretty quickly, and even Nie Mingjue was wary of her belated interest in Nie Huaisang, although in Meng Yao’s opinion he focused a bit too much on the possibility of harm to Nie Huaisang’s feelings and not quite enough on the fact that the only thing standing between Meng Shi and the significantly more secure position of first wife was him.

Meng Yao had his first real out-loud argument with his mother over it.

Nie Huaisang didn’t care at all, indifferent as he was to Meng Shi after all this time, except of course in the sense that he was upset that Meng Yao was upset. Nie Mingjue was charmingly worried sick about their reignited and intensified cold war – so much so, even, that he went behind everyone’s backs and arranged for Meng Yao’s first mission with Chiwen to be a bodyguarding escort mission to take Qinghe’s current mistress on a shopping trip.

Sometimes Meng Yao wanted to strange him.

Irritatingly enough, it worked out just as Nie Mingjue must have planned. There was a limit to how much teenage sulking Meng Yao could get up to on an extended road trip that required a month’s travel in each direction, and his mother wasn’t so stubborn that she couldn’t be convinced regarding to exactly how underhanded Madame Yu’s instigation had been. Anyway, in the end, she did love him more than anything, and that made forgiveness easy.

Soon enough they were back to their old ways, living in each other’s pockets as they always had, only this time they had money in their pockets and the arrogance of having a Great Sect backing them up. They made a point to stop by Yunping again to rub their good fortune into the faces of the brothel owners and other prostitutes that had once so tormented them, and even ended up buying his mother’s old friend Sisi’s freedom at a much-discounted price, given what had happened to her face.

“No one will notice in Qinghe,” Meng Shi assured her old friend, clutching at her hands with a smile brighter than anything Meng Yao had ever seen on her; it made her look ten years younger. “Half the women there have scars – scars, and sabers, too, if you look inside the main house. We’ll say you’re my maid so that you can stay with me all the time, but I won’t make you lift a finger – I promise!”

Meng Yao thought it was a good thing. His mother would have company which she’d lacked, especially since Lao Nie had stopped visiting her courtyard, and even better it was company she already knew she liked. They could sit together and play games, or music, do their hair and make-up and clothes, and never have to think even once about what a man would think of them.

Meng Yao was in a very good mood.

He probably should have realized that something terrible was going to happen.

He should have, but he didn’t, not until they rode straight back in through the gates of the Unclean Realm and Nie Mingjue rushed out in a panic to meet them. He had a black eye and bruises on his neck that Meng Yao identified at once as being caused by a man’s hand – he’d seen it before in the brothel, though not since – and although Nie Mingjue was ignoring it he favored one leg over the other in a way that suggested that his ankle was swollen and maybe even fractured under his robes.

“Da-ge!” Meng Yao cried out in pure shock at how wrong it was. Although there were spars every day in the Unclean Realm, even vicious ones that were only a shade away from true fights, no one should be able to lay a hand on the eldest young master of Qinghe like that without getting their head chopped off for it, and even a night-hunt surely couldn’t have gone that badly. “What happened –”

“I’ll tell you later,” Nie Mingjue said, and his voice was harsh, but with terror, not anger. “Come with me right now. He can’t be allowed to see you. Either of you.”

Meng Yao had many questions, but Nie Mingjue permitted none of them; he ushered them up to the guest quarters, the mediocre ones where neither honored guests nor hated enemies were housed, and hidden inside, wrapped in blankets and yet shivering, pale-faced with fright, was Nie Huaisang.

Meng Yao rushed to him at once, of course, and Nie Huaisang burst into relieved tears at the sight of him – silent tears, which was unusual for him; Nie Huaisang had always been prone to wailing.

“Don’t let him make noise,” Nie Mingjue instructed, and it was at once apparent why Nie Huaisang was doing his level five-year-old best to turn sobs into whimpers and heaving breaths into quiet pants. Meng Yao turned to look at Nie Mingjue – Meng Shi and Sisi turned, too, expressions of shock and confusion painted onto their features. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and they’d been here for years; there had to be a reason for all this panic.

“What happened?” Meng Yao asked, and “You need to see a doctor,” but Nie Mingjue shook his head, promised Later, and left, locking the door behind them – locking them in.

Nie Huaisang tugged on Meng Yao’s arm. “We have to move the table,” he said. “Da-ge said, as soon as you were here, we need to move the table.”

“Move the table…? Where?”

The answer, it turned out, was in front of the door. The table, and a bookcase, as if they were planning on resisting a siege.

“Are we hiding from a monster?” Sisi asked Nie Huaisang, trying to make light of a situation she clearly didn’t understand – that none of them understood, because Nie Mingjue hadn’t explained anything.

She was trying to make light, but Nie Huaisang nodded solemnly as if she’d only said the truth. “It’s not his fault, though,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “It’s not A-die’s fault that he’s a monster now.”

Meng Yao was so steeped in cultivation lore that he forgot himself for a moment, thought immediately of possession or demonifiation or a curse or something, and then his mother said, “When did he start hitting your brother?” and Meng Yao remembered that powerful men didn’t need an excuse to be monsters.

But no, that didn’t make sense either – perhaps it would have, if he hadn’t lived here for years, if he hadn’t known Lao Nie, but he had. Lao Nie had a fierce temper and a tendency to hold grudges, a heavy hand and a cold rationality in his heart that Meng Yao understood at first glance and that Nie Mingjue hadn’t quite figured out for all that he tried to parrot his father’s teachings, but he was generally speaking not a bad man. If he sometimes raised his hand to his sons, it was meant to teach them something – he wasn’t some customer at the brothel whose always-bruised children stayed home with shadows in their eyes.

Or at least, he hadn’t been.

Meng Yao got some broken parts of the story out of Nie Huaisang with some difficulty, being as Nie Huaisang was five and self-centered and had no tendency, as Meng Yao had at his age, to listen at doorways. There was a night-hunt, apparently, and it had ended badly – Lao Nie’s saber, Jiwei, had shattered, entirely unexpectedly, and the creature had taken advantage of the moment to gore him, with only Nie Mingjue’s quick reactions saving his life. He’d been in a coma for three days.

Three days, and then he’d woken up, his eyes bloodshot with ceaseless rage, and he’d called for Nie Mingjue to bring him his saber.

“Qi deviation,” Nie Mingjue told him later that night, climbing in through the window with a few more bruises and a cut high on his forehead so new that it was still scabbing over. His eyes were dull with exhaustion. “He doesn’t understand that she’s gone, no matter how I try to explain it.”

It wasn’t that Meng Yao hadn’t heard all the stories about the Nie clan’s tendency towards explosive and early deaths, but this was too early – Lao Nie hadn’t actually been all that old, for all that he’d waited longer than most of his ancestors to have children, and weren’t there supposed to be warning signs about this sort of thing? And the saber breaking, a Nie saber breaking –

“It was Wen Ruohan,” Nie Mingjue said. “At the dinner party, some months back. You remember. They had that back-and-forth about that fancy new saber he got as a present.” He shut his eyes. “I was standing next to him when it happened. I felt the echo of Wen Ruohan’s cultivation right before it happened – he did something, weakened it somehow, unbalanced her. Shattered her.”

His hand had found Baxia’s hilt as he spoke, his fingers white with pressure of holding her; Meng Yao couldn’t say anything, his own fingers tight around Chiwen – Nie sabers were spiritual weapons, so tailored to their makers that one might almost think they were conscious, and there were whispers that if you cultivated enough they would really become so, rising to semi-sentience and maybe even full thought one day. A Nie disciple cultivated their saber using their own soul and spirit, making it part of themselves…even imagining such a thing was like a nightmare come to life.

Meng Yao took a deep breath and held it for several seconds before exhaling. “Okay,” he said, even though it wasn’t okay, not at all. “What happens next?”

“You stay here with Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said at once. “I’ll bring you food, water, everything you need – there are servant’s passages in the walls, or I can fly Baxia to your window –”

Meng Yao reached out and caught his waving hand. “No, not – what happens next? We can’t cower here like trapped rats forever.”

But Nie Mingjue only looked tired, tired and afraid. “Meng Yao…”

“We can’t,” Meng Yao insisted. “And you – look at you, look what he did to you –”

“He’s still sect leader,” Nie Mingjue said. “And my father. He’s entitled to do as he likes.”

“There has got to be some sect law permitting the removal of a sect leader for madness!” Meng Yao exclaimed. “This isn’t a surprise; it’s hereditary – someone must have put in place measures –”

“Measures that require three-fourths of Nie sect elders to participate, enough to fill a quota, and an heir old enough to make a reasonable argument for inheritance,” Nie Mingjue said, and they both knew that he wasn’t. He was only fifteen; who would respect him? “There was some underhandedness a few generations back, someone trying to frame someone else for it in order to steal their position, so madness is a high bar to reach. I’ve sent letters to summon back everyone above the right age, as many as people as I can spare, but until they all come – we can’t let anyone know.”

Meng Yao hunted for words, but his silver tongue could not do what his mind knew was impossible; there really was nothing for it. Tensions with the other sects were too high. Even putting Wen Ruohan aside, there was Jin Guangshan in Lanling, always avaricious, and dozens of small sects dreaming of becoming bigger at the Nie sect’s expense. It was one thing to say that Lao Nie was injured and healing; yet another entirely to reveal that the Nie sect’s leader had gone mad, mad with anger, and that they were as rudderless as a raft on the open ocean.

They couldn’t openly demand that their traveling sect elders all come rushing back at once without alerting everyone to the problem – they couldn’t even ask the other sects to help find them.

No one could know.

“So, what are you suggesting,” Meng Yao said, his smile even gentler than usual in his rage. He might not show his fierce anger the way the Nie clan did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. “That we just put up with it until we gather enough people to do it right, or else until he dies? How long will that take?”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face. “I’m not sure. A year, maybe?”

A year.

“That’s implausible,” Meng Yao pointed out. “Sect business still needs to get done.”

“I’ve been doing what I can,” Nie Mingjue said, because of course he was. He was the heir – he was the rightful sect leader, even though he was far too young for it. “Great-uncle says he thinks I can pull off being eighteen, so that my signature will be sufficient for most documents…”

“I’m going to help,” Meng Yao said, and held up his hand when Nie Mingjue tried to protest. “You know I’m ten times as good at household accounts and logistics as you, and it can be mostly done on paper, so there’ll be no need for me to go out of here to do the vast majority of it. You’re not stopping me. You need me.”

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said, because he did and he knew it. “Fine. But for the few things you do have to come out for…listen, I tell you to run, you don’t argue, okay? I don’t know if he’s still angry at you about what happened at the Discussion Conference a few years back, but I’m not planning on finding out.”

Meng Yao shuddered. “He still – remembers?” he asked, because that was worse, somehow. So much worse to know that the monster that beat Nie Mingjue to limping, that wrapped his hand around his neck and tried to squeeze the life out of him, still had the same memories as Lao Nie, who used to look at his son like he’d been a star in the night sky that he’d placed there himself. Who’d never let his disagreements with Meng Shi affect the fairness with which he treated Meng Yao, who had once put his hand on his shoulder and told him he was doing well, that he was promising, that he was glad to have someone like him in his sect…

“It’s not so bad all the time,” Nie Mingjue told him. “Sometimes he forgets, for a little while, before it starts up again.”

That just made Lao Nie unpredictable, Meng Yao found, and he hated it – he hated the way Nie Huaisang cringed at doors, the way he’d started to wet the bed again, the way they’d had to let all his pet birds loose after Lao Nie destroyed one of their cages in a fit of unexpected fury. He hated the way his mother and Sisi both donned veils to hide their faces, lest they draw attention, and took to sneaking through the servants’ quarters; he hated the way Nie Mingjue stopped fighting about going to see the sect doctor the way he always had and started making a visit there every week like clockwork and sometimes in between, and didn’t even seem to realize anymore how bad it had gotten; he hated the way it almost seemed sometimes like Lao Nie was still in there, somewhere, confused about what was happening like a man lost in a fog that he thought might be on the verge of thinning and asking for someone to fetch his saber as if it were a lantern that could help guide him out of the dark.

But his saber was gone.

“I’m going to kill Wen Ruohan for this,” Nie Mingjue said one night, lying with the side of his head pressed against the cool stone wall to help reduce the swelling – Lao Nie had thrown something at his head again, trying to get at Baxia; he’d mistaken her for Jiwei again.

Meng Yao was sitting next to him, trying to compose a response to Lan Xichen’s latest letter – it was cheerful, talking about plum blossom tea and lessons in etiquette and a new guqin for Lan Wangji, the only sour note a reference to his mother’s illness not having yet resolved, though he hoped it would by the next visit they had scheduled. Meng Yao was having to wrack his brain to come up with some sort of fiction about what they were supposedly up to in Qinghe that would not bleed resentment through the lines.

Maybe he could say they got a dog? An especially rabid one, vicious and cruel, with a tendency to turn against everyone with teeth bared and no care for how they bled even though they loved him –

Maybe not a dog.

“You can add it to all the other crimes he’s committed,” he said absently, and he knew that Nie Mingjue would take it as referring to the man’s overall maliciousness – Wen Ruohan was an iron-fisted tyrant, vicious and mean, and he wasn’t quiet about his enjoyment of ‘punishments’ that were more torture than anything else; Lao Nie had vocally criticized him over it, and with him no longer there to rally disdain against it, Wen Ruohan would undoubtedly only get worse – but actually Meng Yao had meant the crimes Wen Ruohan had committed against them. Against the Nie sect, against the Nie clan.

Against Nie Mingjue.

Death was too good for the bastard, but for once Meng Yao would be fine settling for less so long as it happened.

Nie Mingjue huffed in agreement, as Meng Yao had expected, and finally closed his eyes to sleep the way Meng Yao had been on his case about doing for the last half-shichen. When he was deeply asleep at last, breath regular and easy for all that his brow was still furrowed in fear and worry that no longer went away, Meng Yao, who had been staring at the hypnotically beautiful sight of Nie Mingjue’s chest steadily moving up and down, alive and not too hurt, saw a shadow out of the corner of his eye.

“Huaisang,” he said, not even bothering to sound stern. “You should be asleep already.”

Nie Huaisang came up to him and put his head on his shoulder. “I want to help,” he said softly.

Meng Yao blinked. “With what?”

“Whatever we have to do,” Nie Huaisang said. He was watching Nie Mingjue breathe, too. “Whatever we have to do to make it right.”

Meng Yao wasn’t sure what to say. “Huaisang –”

“I want to help, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and there wasn’t any doubt in his voice, any uncertainty. “Da-ge may be stronger, but you’re meaner. If anyone’s going to kill the one who did this, it’ll be you, and I want to help.”

Nie Huaisang ended his pronouncement with a huff, a familiar sound, and for all that it was a sound more characteristic of the Nie than his mother, Meng Yao couldn’t help but smile because he knew what that sound really meant: it meant I hate him, it meant he hurt da-ge, it meant I don’t know how to care about the world, I only know how to care about the ones I love, and for them I will burn it all down.

Meng Yao knew exactly how that felt.

It seemed that Nie Huaisang was vicious thing after Meng Yao’s own heart, underneath it all, and Meng Yao marveled all over again at his luck at having a living brother of his own blood – not any of those hypothetical bastard half-brothers and sisters Jin Guangshan sowed like he was trying to grow grain for the harvest, but his mother’s child.

A monster, just like him.

“All right,” he said. “If I can, I’ll let you help.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #meng yao #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #meng shi #lao nie #my fic #my fics #three gates #some of those content warnings now in effect

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ghostxofxartemis · 3 years

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Writing-tag

I’ve been tagged by both @zet-sway and @rosenkow, thank you both dearly! Sorry it took so long to post this.

Tagging: @illusivesoul, @nightmarestudio606, @staff-lieutenant-alenko, @lyrishadow, @bardofheartdive and whoever wants to partake, just tag me so I can see! No obligations! (sorry, this tag was going on like last week, I don’t know who got tagged and who didn’t).

How many works do you have on AO3?

So far 13 (technically more because there is one work that’s a multitude of one shots for John, which has 2 chapters so a that brings it to a true total of 15),

What’s your total AO3 word count?

42,174.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Order:

1. Midnight Rannoch, M!Shenko

2. Reignite, M!Shepley

3. A Night Out On The Town, ShepShep

4. Addendum: A Collection of Short Stories, M!Shepley (that’s the one-shots mentioned above.)

5. A Night’s Gather, M!Shepley

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I take the time to read them, especially if they are heart warming comments, and it feels amazing to have my work validated, not going to lie since most of my stuff seems to be uninteresting to most it seems? And I absolutely love to reply back!

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

I don’t have an angsty ending yet, but Reignite, is angsty throughout the whole thing because it takes place during ME2 and I hurt myself while writing it, and I’m quite proud of that.

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

Till Death Do Us Part. It is as it sounds my M!Shepley get married post-war.

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

Nope.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

So far have had nothing but pleasant comments. Seems like people have sticked to “don’t like it, just move on” for now.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No doiiii. Of Course I do!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nah.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

My all time favorite is Shepley. Okay, hear me out before you all start ripping my head off. I started playing Mass Effect in 2007, yes fourteen years ago. There was only ME1 at the time, and if you were playing as BroShep you only had t he choice between Ashley and Liara, and If you were playing FemShep you had Kaidan and Liara (back didn’t I was not a fan of femshep, I seriously only started playing as femshep two or three years ago). I wasn’t a fan of Liara, I found her very pushy and obsessive; I liked Ash, she’s tough, funny, and altogether very similar to me in the tomboy-kind-of-way and so I stuck with her. M!Shenko was not a thing yet. ME2 came along three years later and I wasn’t really a fan of any of the other female crewmates, I chose Miranda but at the time I didn’t like her (She’s grown on me and now I like her).

So Ended Up Loyal To Ashley.

ME3 came along in 2012 and MShenko was now a thing. They became my next Ship, but only recently, and along side with playing as Leah, F!Shenko as well. So there you have it. That is why I am very attached to Shepley.

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

I don’t plan on not finishing any so far? they just might take a while to be posted? If ever because adulting is hard and takes so much time.

What are your writing strengths?

I really don’t know to be honest. I’m still new to this and have a lot to learn/master, and with such little comments to go on from it’s hard to say if anyone is enjoying my stories other than my beta, haha.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Combat! It’s hard to describe the movement, the layout, the actions themselves. But working on it.

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

I am bilingual, I can easily write French dialogue but choose not too,

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Never posted or shared, but I’m a huge fan of Lord of the Rings, and Xbox had a DND game (I’m talking original xbox here) and I really liked the game so I had written a fanfic mixing the two slightly.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oof. I have to chose? I’ll pick two.

Reignite this all started with just a prompt too.

Happy Birthday, Shepard.

#writing tag #zet-sway #ghost writes #ghostxofxartemis #fanficcing with friends

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snarkywrites · 5 years

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March Horoscopes: Rebirth

We are finally entering Aries Season. The last cardinal season was in Capricorn and it was extremely intense. Here we learn to let go and be more independent with our actions. There will be a sense of freedom, pushing us to take on challenges, to let go of what is holding us down and set our new paths. Aries Season reignites our passions and boosts our momentum, it is the awakening period for many because the Spring Season is also nearing. With Saturn entering Aquarius (briefly) we will see what will be on the horizon for 2021. Use this opportunity to be ore reflective and wise about decision making for the future. This Aries Season will feel like magic is in the air, so have fun and enjoy it, even if everything feels like it's about to collapse around us.

March Horoscopes

Aries – The first half of the month will be a rediscovery period for you as you wait for the Piscean waters to calm down with the effects of the Mercury Retrograde. This is a great time to reflect and meditate if possible. Mars in Capricorn will give you that extra boost you have been desiring all year long, especially when it comes to jump starting your career plans and new directions. The Pluto and Saturn conjunction is still there, but things will slowly begin to alleviate for all of us when Saturn enters Aquarius on March 21st, right in time for Aries Season to start. The struggles you will face for this short period (March through July when Saturn retrogrades back into Capricorn) will be an eye-opening experience tied to your partnerships and inner growth. You have fought the fight these couple of years with establishing an identity to the world and now you will shift that focus on how you relate to others. Venus entering Taurus early in the month will make you care more about self-worth and appreciating your innate gifts; another puzzle piece to add to the collection for the upcoming months. The Page of Wands is your card for the month, adding to the theme of new discovery and beginnings. This is a time for new opportunities and renewed optimism, all things tied to the spirit of Aries Season.

Taurus – We kick-start the month of March with Venus comfortable in the sign of Taurus. You will radiate magic and magic will follow you throughout this period if you allow it. With Mars in fellow Earth sign, Capricorn, you are not afraid to express your thoughts to others as you assert yourself more this month. A favorable aspect for many Taurus in the next week is the Full Moon in Virgo, bringing a culmination to your outlook on what brings you joy and happiness in life. It will be a slightly reflective period as you also consider what you have had to offer and bring to the table when thinking about your creative paths. To the artists out there, this can be an awakening and a period of growth and renewal as you continue to reflect some more due to this Mercury Retrograde in Pisces. Seeing some ghosts from the past as well as reconnecting with new people with like minded thoughts and ideals will spark your imaginative side. The Sun will be entering Aries later this month on the 19th, bringing you back into a reflective period and prompting you to get ready for the next goals to achieve. Saturn will be entering the sign of Aquarius, bringing a much-needed period of relief as you brace yourself for the challenges that will manifest in the next two years. Bulls should not be intimidated because you all are stubborn and courageous in your own right. Your card for the month is the Three of Wands pushing you to be more adventurous and have a little fun, even when the world looks like it’s ready to burn.

Gemini – Aries Season will bring an exciting period for many Geminis as you achieve a little recognition and moment in the spotlight during this transit. The Full Moon in Virgo this month will shine a light to your domestic affairs, and you will likely find a resolution. With Mercury Retrograding back into the sign of Aquarius at the beginning of the month, this will spark some nostalgia, as you think and meet some people from the past who will help to shape some new outlook regarding your place in the world. With Saturn entering Aquarius later in the month, those answers from the retrograde will help add some meaning to this transit. You will have a taste of what is to come in the next three years. The Four of Wands is your card for the month bringing a much-needed victory to your life. Things will appear to be smooth sailing as you are brought back to home and family. Love will be a driving force for this victory this month and when Venus enters your sign next month, you will experience the power and effects of how love will shape you for the next half of the year.

Cancer – When the Sun enters Aries, it will bring a period of challenges in showing the world who you are. However, expect a list of praises towards the end of the season. You will be able to attain your crown and learn a lot as a result of your achievements. With the Full Moon in Virgo, this will bring a contemplative period, as you craft your plans for the upcoming months and try to bring a resolution to your ongoing fears and lack of faith in yourself. When Mercury reenters the sign of Pisces on the 16th, the expansive energy follows you and adds a good amount of optimism to keep you right on track. Have faith in yourself and what you have in the works because it will flourish. The New Moon in Aries on the 24th adds that spark of magic, a new beginning to a dream or a plan that will generate a lot of talk towards the end of the year. There will be a Mars and Saturn conjunction in the sign of Aquarius later this month, making you want to go forward but stop. Although this energy feels limiting, keep pushing for what you want without any fears. This period is a moment of re branding and trust in you. This month, The King of Wands appears in your favor, letting you know that you are at a level of mastery which will bring more gifts. The only one stopping you at this point in time might be you, so keep going and be fearless.

Leo – Fire signs will enjoy this favorable transit because it will generate that spark and joy that the Saturn and Pluto conjunction has been keeping under control. With the energy shifting away from the Capricorn wave, you will focus on the self and your own power. The Sun in Aries will bring a positive outlook and joy to keep you moving forward with your plans. However, the brief entry of Saturn in Aquarius, will show some of the obstacles that you will have to face in the next year. Although it is a brief transit, you will get a taste of what is to come. Venus in the sign of Taurus will be an exciting period for you, as you will feel like royalty. Whatever you do now will make you shine, and it will boost your confidence and faith in yourself because you already know what you are worth. The Full Moon in Virgo provides the essentials needed to build a stable environment for yourself as you are faced with questions regarding the future and your stability. Finally, the transit that will bring you more optimism will be the New Moon in the sign of Aries, prompting a change in ideals and a need for expansion. Your future and plans could come to focus during this time. When Mars enters Aquarius, you will be the go-getter, getting things done, moving into action, but with the conjunction with Saturn, this might add some pressures to how you move forward. We conclude with The Page of Pentacles in the Reverse as your card for the month. Keep the eyes on the prize and do not let fear stop you. The world is your oyster, just go for it.

Virgo – Pisces Season should bring a sense of optimism for you. The Saturn and Pluto conjunction that has made the last three years a bit of a downer for you will finally break away from their intense energy as Saturn shifts into Aquarius on the 21st. This can bring you a moment of relief and joy, which will allow for you to go forth and bask in the Aries Season with new opportunities for excitement and thrills. The Full Moon in your sign also provides a bit of a boost in the way will view yourself from here on out. This is a time to come into your power and see those parts of the self that you have been trying to ignore or hide away. You are now more willing to accept the truths after months of covering up those lies within. Be upfront now and honest with what you expect for yourself in the future. Venus in fellow Earth sign, Taurus will bring you back to basics and inspire a lot of self-worth and love, both wonderful things for your journey to healing. The Sun is your card for the month adding onto the theme of the self and growth. Do not be afraid to let your light shine. It is only when you have uncovered those dark parts within and come to terms with who you want to become, that you will show your radiance.

Libra – March will bring a lot of changes for you with lots of Cardinal activity in the works. The Sun entering Aries is a moment of excitement for you since Aries is your sister sign and it is a reflection of who you are when relating to others. Appreciate the last days of Venus in this sign before it moves into Taurus, because here is where you will have to be more practical about finances and your own ideals revolving worthiness. Mars in fellow Cardinal sign, Capricorn will make the home front a bit of a challenge during this transit, but this is something that you are already used to and can handle. Your diplomatic skills will be put to the test as you struggle to be the peacekeeper with friends and family. Nevertheless, this month will also show you many victories, with the Full Moon in Virgo, bringing you back to center and inner focus. A cycle of uncertainty and confusion comes to an end, as you set out to take on the world. Mercury Retrograding back into the sign of Aquarius, brings a little spark and fun to your life before Saturn makes its way there briefly until July. The Four of Pentacles in the Reverse is your card for the month reminding you to be more cautious with your spending since Venus will be in Taurus. Be practical when it comes to finances and remember to focus on the future.

Scorpio – There will be a lot of opportunities coming and going this month and this also applies to people you meet and let go of. With the Seven of Cups appearing in your reading, this is a moment to be practical with what you want and to not be fooled by others, especially in romance. The beginning of March marks the period of Pisces Season that will bring you joy and excitement, but with Neptune there, this can lead to a lot of illusions and delusions after when things do not work out the way you have expected. Luckily, Mercury will Retrograde back to Aquarius, making you claim some footing as you work through issues that are of a more personal nature. The Full Moon in Virgo brings you some much needed guidance through your practical circle of friends, reminding you to stay focused and grounded during this transit. Venus entering the sign of Taurus will ignite your passions when it comes to what you should go after when pursuing a partner and how you will go about getting what you want. Focus on bringing stability into your life and not to let the chaos around you push you into making decisions you know are not practical.

Sagittarius – Aries Season will awaken you as you experience fun and pleasure with the Sun entering later this month. So far, you have gotten the boost of joy with Venus in the sign, but it is only for one more week until it moves into Taurus. This is still a very favorable position to have Venus, as you come to a good and peaceful moment in your working environment or with school. Saturn will be entering the sign of Aquarius for the next four months, giving you a taste of what is to come for 2021. You have been through the challenges that Saturn has presented you but now this will be a new learning experience for you. The New Moon in Aries at the end of the month will spark a new cycle for you that can be a creative endeavor or a reflective period for the next six months, so use this time wisely since it can promote growth. It will challenge you in new ways because Aries teaches us to take lead and charge and this transit is no different. Your card for the month is The Two of Swords, prompting you to make some decisions you have been putting off. Trust that you will make what is best for you since you have already learned a lot and have overcome the hardships that life has thrown at you thus far.

Capricorn – You of all people will love the shift from Saturn in your sign to Aquarius. This lightens the weight that you have been feeling for the last two years, even if it will only be for a four-month period. The Sun entering fellow Cardinal sign, Aries in the middle of the month is a godsend for you as you now have the energy to kickstart any pending projects or tasks you have not felt confident enough to take on. With Mars in your sign, you will be driven enough to start and finish this in the next few years. One drawback of having Mars in your sign will be the aggressive tendencies that will flare up occasionally, so make sure to take some timeouts when you feel the anger and pressures building. This Full Moon in Virgo will bring expansive energy and motivation that will help you keep pushing for that goal you have in mind. You have your eyes on a prize and will surely get it. This month, The Seven of Wands shows that you are here to fight for what you want and protect what you have achieved. Mars in your sign makes you unstoppable and will teach you to put up defenses when others want to break you. Keep going strong, nothing can stop you this month.

Aquarius – A huge momentum shift for your sign as you finally feel what Saturn in Aquarius will be bringing you for the next three years. But first, you will experience Mercury Retrograding back in your sign at the beginning of the month, making you think sharper and be more in tune with your thought process. There is a confidence in how you carry yourself and what you are willing to tolerate, and others will notice. The Sun in Aries adds on to this mental sharpness as you will have an ease with words this transit, so to those Aquarius writers out there, you will have a lot of inspiration that will be beneficial to you, especially after this New Moon in Aries, sparking some travel and/or reconnecting with the world through words. Venus in Taurus brings some stability and comfort to home, as you will also feel inspiration to make changes to aesthetics. Saturn in Aquarius will ignite passions, not in the way that Mars and Venus to, but in a way that will ensure security and success in the future. You will focus on the next chapter of your life and bring the focus on what truly matters to you now. The Three of Pentacles in the Reverse is your card for the month. Do not shy away from asking help if you need it. Usually, you can achieve greatness on your own, but when you are feeling down, it is always best to have the support from others to keep on going.

Pisces – There can be a bit of conflict when The Five of Wands shows up in a reading. This month try to behave or stay away from conflict. You can use your leadership status to bring or enforce the peace (if you can). This Aries Season will remind you to keep the focus on you and how to make yourself thrive. You are in your element now, especially when Venus in Taurus makes a sextile to your sign, prompting many pleasant moments in the making that will be inspirational to you and might help you tap into your creative side. With Mars in the sign of Capricorn, expect to meet a lot of new and interesting people this transit who will spark some new ways of achieving things and will keep you focused for the long run. The Full Moon in Virgo brings a conclusion to how you approach relationships. To those who are partnered, you will understand your lover more. Single folks will understand themselves more and what they are looking for in their future mate. Saturn is entering Aquarius briefly and it will show you what to expect in 2021. This period will be a reflective one, so use it wisely because you will learn a lot about you, and it will shed a part of you after the transit. Generally, this is a moment of fierce optimism and hard work as you gladly look to the future.

#Astrology #Aries #Taurus #Gemini #Cancer #Leo #Virgo #Libra #Scorpio #Sagittarius #Capricorn #Aquarius #Pisces

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shelli-gator · 4 years

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Talk about your Pancho headcannons!!!!!!

HECK YEAH BABY LETS GO!!!!1!!!11!11! HOO-AH

EDIT: I noticed there are more Pancho asks so I’m breaking it up! PART 1 BABY

Backstory

- Pancho was born to a family of crowned lemurs that originally escaped Uncle King Julien’s kingdom. They live in one of the many small lemur colonies scattered around the island, and they’re the perfect targets for UKJ’s Footstall Program.

- Pancho gets taken from his family at 11 years old, and convinced that this is a special program his parents enrolled him in. After that he goes through years of abuse in all its forms, brainwashing and grooming him to kill on command.

- He proves he can do it when commanded to kill his family. To help him cope, his poor fractured mind remembers his family as the manure bags, which were there when he killed them. If he can visualize the doll as Julien, he can surely do the opposite with his family, seeing them as bags to spare him from seeing the terrible thing he did.

Certainly makes this scene a lot more distressing. *weeps bitterly*

- Despite killing his family, Pancho also frequently proves unable to kill his Julien doll. He’s soft and emotional, and UKJ deems him a failure. He programs him with the Final Protocol, like a fail-safe in case Pancho can’t ‘pull the trigger’. Hence he says “You big lump of sea salt taffy, you’re a disappointment. Which is why I created the Final Protocol in the first place.”

- After this, Pancho’s memories are wiped, and he’s left on the outskirts of the village for Willie to find at 17 years of age. The program continues on for years without him, long enough for Clover to witness the end of it when she works for UKJ.

- Pancho joins high school with Willie and Horst, living with Willie. But his lack of memories makes him angry and frustrated, and he acts out with petty crime and vandalism, until he takes it too far and gets imprisoned with a 5 year sentence. He doesn’t attend their prom, and he doesn’t graduate.

- He meets Andy Fairfax in prison. They eventually become friends/associates, but Andy escapes without him. Pancho gets released after 3 years for good behavior, and as a homeless lad he moves from friend to friend, living on their couches as he goes back to doing crime with Andy intermittently. Other times he works as a bouncer and life guard. (he’s a REALLY good swimmer) He also does other odd jobs wherever he’s needed.

Relationships

- Pancho is a closeted bisexual for years, until he ‘wrestles’ with Andy. From then on he’s openly and proudly bi. But he’s always had inklings that he liked guys.

- Before he gets his memories back, Pancho struggles to fill the void of not knowing who he is by pursuing many relationships, struggling to find some sense of stability in his chaotic vagrant life. He thinks he falls deeply for the girls that come and go, but the moment the ‘honeymoon’ phase wears off, he finds he’s still miserable.

- His relationships didn’t last because he was essentially a broken person trying to find self fulfillment in others. It doesn’t work, but when he finds out who he is, he can finally start having healthy and non-destructive relationships.

- The first time Pancho is mentioned, he’s said to be cuddling and canoodling with a new lady. And when asked if love is in the air, Julien says “I sure hope so, Pancho needs it.” So I use it for my HC that Pancho often went from one women to the next, either by his own doing or no fault of his own, and lives with them to not be homeless (that’s already a big no in a relationship). And Julien is familiar with this, which is pretty wild.

He’s also big into PDA and physical affection based on this, but he also confirms later he’s into snuggling.

- He married both his wives quickly to try to hold onto that honeymoon bliss, but those marriages didn’t last much longer than the others. He inadvertently sabotaged them by turning back to crime with Andy, and his 2nd wife divorced him by the start of s4.

- I HC Julien was at Pancho’s first wedding as if to celebrate the village down on his luck former felon and vagrant finally getting it all sorted and getting married. So much for that.

- He’s still on good terms with his ex wives however, and is actually a better friend to them than he ever was a husband. He’s the type to make sure their new mates are treating them right, often through devious means. He gets them roses on their birthdays and on Valentines day, and they bring him home cooked meals and things to decorate his hut with.

- Pancho is a romantic, and quite charming when he wants to be. His 2nd wife was the only one who had a flower bracelet at prom, and I HC he stole it from someone else and used it to ask her to go to prom with him, as a way to try to reignite their marriage. But his wife soon finds out he stole it, and she’s absolutely livid. His heart was in the right place, but it would have meant more to her if he’d stopped stealing entirely.

- Pancho likes to show his affection in grand gestures. Like blowing up stuff, setting off fireworks, sparklers, and stealing things for his mate that he knows he’ll like. Like with Julien, he loves to steal paint for him, and all manner of other curiosities to keep his ADHD babe happy.

- He down to fool around and have ‘casual fun’ with his friends every day of the week, hence I like to say he’s ‘homiesexual’

General

- Pancho isn’t great at talking when put on the spot. He’s great at heists, but don’t ask him to con someone. He couldn’t talk his way out of a situation to save his life, literally.

- Despite not being book smart, he’s incredibly streetwise. He’s quick on his feet, and out of the group he’ll be the one to take action, one way or another. His plans might not always work the way he wants them to, but they work out in the end.

- He’s always been a bit of a King Julien fanboy. He admired him, and before he got his memories back he always felt like there was something important about him specifically. Why would he have the Julien doll? But when he bring it up, his friends write it off as ‘Everyone likes Julien!’, and Pancho doesn’t push the issue.

- Pancho doesn’t know when his actual birthday is, so his birthday is the day Willie found him.

- He stress eats, and tends to eat more than he should. This is a subconscious result of his training, where food was used as a motivator, and starvation as punishment.

- This mad lad is one of the kingdom’s best trampers, and Julien joins him for tramping sessions, even before Panchurian.

- He enjoys reading, and likes Mort and Clover’s books a lot. He knows some big words because of this, but he doesn’t know what half of them mean, hence he applies them incorrectly at times.

- He does remember the phrase used to trigger himself, but he’s too scared to, and rightly so. He does attempt to remember his training however, so he can tap into his mad fighting skills without needing to trigger himself.

- Pancho highly values loyalty. He becomes loyal to KJ and is keen to help in any way that he can. He finds his home in his king and friends, and is eventually a welcome and much treasured member of Julien’s inner circle of friends.

- He isn’t a confident dancer. He tries his best though, and isn’t bad at slow dancing. When he does dance though, and really lets himself have fun without thinking about it, he shakes his hips a lot and rolls his shoulders, and just vibes with the people he’s dancing with, especially Julien. He makes him feel confident, because to Julien there’s no right or wrong, there’s just dancing. Ultimately, he’s not a great dancer like Ted, Julien or Willie, but he’s not terrible.

#ahkj #all hail king julien #ahkj pancho #asks #lovely anon #pancho #headcanons #i love him so much #my comfort boy #happy reading!

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hidiingplace · 3 years

Text

JOEY HEADCANON + NAME.

general. Joey’s name is not actually Joey. He was born with the full name Joseph Vincent Hamilton. His mother names him Joseph after her grandfather, Vincent after the famous painter, and Hamilton after his father’s last name. However, Joey has a great dislike for his full name, and as such, upon meeting him in NYC, it will be very rare that he will introduce himself by his given name. Here’s why.

abuse. Joey suffered physical and mental abuse most of his childhood. His mother loved to put an emphasis on using both his first name and middle name as a pairing (which is a french-canadianism for many families, including my own). As such, if Joey had done something wrong while his mother was educating him, or even if he was just relaxing, she would sigh and in a disapproving tone call to him with a stern “Joseph Vincent”. In addition to this, while his father never used his middle name all too frequently during his abuse, the name Joseph is deeply connected to the many violent outbursts his father would have in the middle of the night while drinking. Often his father would yell his name from downstairs, and this would be the only waring Joey would have before his father’s abuse would begin. His name was associated with lots of negative things that would be spilled over him while enduring physical abuse at the hands of his father.

joey. the name joey came about because his friends started calling him that rather than his full name. he liked it, and he was soft spoken enough not to correct them on using his full name like his mother would have wanted him to. As such, the name Joey became associated with things he liked and people who cared about him, all while he grew distant and hateful towards his full name. He will introduce himself as Joey, and may even be brave enough to correct you away from using the name ‘joe’ on him as he does find it a little too similar to Joseph. However, he will never, ever correct his family out of fear of judgement and further verbal abuse. The few times he has tried to explain to them that he prefers the name Joey, it was dismissed as him ‘being rebellious’ and at one point in his life his mother even told him that it was a ‘stupid’ idea and that she would “continue to call [him] the name that [she] gave [him] because it’s the only name that means anything to [her].”

triggering. it took quite a few years for Joey to realize that his full name is actually, to some degree, triggering for him. while he will not have a full blown panic attack, and may not even display any true emotions over the use of his full name, he does feel his chest tighten uncomfortably. At times, his full name can even reignite his desire to use substances he was previously addicted to, force him to dissociate, or even produce a very emotionally distraught response. However, these instances are rare and usually only occur when compounded with something else –– like a bad day, repeated use of his full-name, or other things that might create more stress on him mentally.

in short. most people, especially people who have met him in his later years after distancing himself from his parents and his family’s wealth, will only know Joey as, well, Joey.

#joey hamilton ( general ).#joey hamilton ( headcanon ).#abuse mention tw #substance abuse mention tw #addiction mention tw #alcoholism mention tw

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iaintyourbro · 4 years

Text

Mental Gymnastics and the Sanity Question

I wrote this on June 2, 2020 and put it in my drafts. I don’t think I was brave enough to post this because it states how I really feel about things and at times that can be met with resistance. Almost three months later, after more research, talking to others in the fandom, and putting everything together, I’m going to share it now. I also know how to properly add pictures in a post so I’m gonna do that too.

Obviously, this is my opinion on it. Clearly from a fandom perspective, I love Cloud and Tifa as a couple. However, I’m ultimately a “canon-y” person. I do not ship couples without knowing the whole story. I ship after I know what happens. FFVII’s OG... I wasn’t too invested in, so I didn’t really do anything with fandom. I was online for FFVIII, Xenogears, and Gundam Wing. Anything FFVII related was Vincent related.

***

Oh shipping, something I learned about recently. As a person who played FFVII at the age of 12 (well, started it) and then actually completed the game at around 13 or 14, the bulk of it went over my head. FFVIII was a clear cut romance, and probably why it was my favorite FF for 20 years. That being said, FFVII does have an ending, and does have a pretty clear relationship build between two of the characters. That’s then followed through in the additional media for the compilation.

So why is there a fight? I honestly don’t know, and this post isn’t going to answer your questions, probably. I am going to give my opinion on why there is a fight, but I’m not a psychologist. This is how I personally feel about the entire FFVII shipping war and the impact it has on people - especially during the COVID quarantine in many areas.

I played FF7R and was pleasantly surprised. I actually was scared to play it - scared it would change something I enjoyed as a teen. I was one that hoped for a 1 to 1 remake to keep the story solid. The reality is... the OG story is bare bones, which is why they ended up putting out multiple other pieces in the form of games, books, and movies. This bare bones story seemed to also create a war on who our protagonist loves. You realize how bare bones it is after playing the remake.

That’s not to say it’s not a good game or good story. The OG is a fantastic game. It’s a fantastic story. It has the same issues every other RPG has where it has major gaps in the plot due to timing, money, whatever. The difference I’d say with FFVII and the others is the story is MUCH MORE COMPLEX and MUCH MORE MATURE. The closest I’d say is Xenogears, which literally was cut short due to time and money. FFVII and Xenogears also share a lot of similar themes, which makes a lot of sense when you know the “scrapped” FFVII ideas were repurposed.

Most of us were kids or young teens when that game came out. We probably played it and understood about 60% of what was going on. We remember Cloud cross-dressing, we remember Aerith dying, and we remember Sephiroth. (And if you’re me you remember Vincent.)

The first part of the game, you’re given multiple choices on how to respond to things. This ends up being part of a “date mechanic” later on in the game. Feels like you have control, right? You’re the one who is going to determine who Cloud gets to date at the Gold Saucer! Who his life partner is!

Wrong.

Yeah, you make choices and it does determine who you go on a date with. However, you find out much later in the game that Cloud isn’t really Cloud. There are multiple hints early in the game that something isn’t right. It builds up until you literally see a ghostly figure of child Cloud standing there as Cloud beats the crap out of Aerith and gives the Black Materia to Sephiroth. Cloud hears voices during multiple scenes in the game, but meh, whatever. Seeing his child form, though, you’re like UM OKAY.

So, you build up your relationship with Aerith. You say all the right things. You get the date with her, she says she wants to meet you. Then you go to the Temple of the Ancients, a cute little part with Cait Sith giving a fortune that you and her are meant to be... and about 10 minutes later you beat the living shit out of her and hand over the Black Materia to the enemy.

At this point, you realize something is seriously wrong. Aerith disappears. The next time you see her, she dies.

Then the focus is only on getting Sephiroth. Not just because of Aerith, but Cloud is being summoned by him - you just don’t know that until you get there. Cloud realizes that he wasn’t pursuing Sephiroth, he was being pulled to him. I mean, Aerith dies and isn’t mentioned for quite some time. There isn’t any point after she floats down that they really mourn. They go snowboarding and go after Sephiroth.

Then Cloud completely breaks... when TIFA questions what she remembers and can’t give Cloud a clear answer. And this may come as a shock to somebody who was trying to woo Aerith. Why does Tifa matter so much? Cloud didn’t break due to Aerith dying, Cloud broke because Tifa didn’t know how to tell him that he wasn’t in Nibelheim 5 years ago (that she knew of).

They don’t really build the relationship up between Cloud and Tifa until pretty much after this point. They talk about the Promise, they talk about some other quirks, they infer that Tifa has a crush on Cloud.

You really aren’t aware that Cloud has a crush on Tifa until The Lifestream, when IT ALL COMES OUT. To be fair, Cloud didn’t show romantic interest to either girl in OG prior to the Northern Crater, honestly. More so until the Lifestream.

The Crisis of Losing Control

You also lose the ability to make choices at this point in the game.

During the first part, you are acting almost as Cloud’s false persona. The cool SOLDIER Cloud that makes nice or nasty choices towards other characters. You determine, to an extent, how Cloud is. But it’s an illusion.

And Aerith tells us this in the Remake - that whatever you’re feeling now isn’t real. This isn’t a love confession, this is a warning. If you played the OG, you know she’s referring to his false persona.

The reason I think this gets so heated is because of the loss of control, the feeling of betrayal that the one you thought was supposed to be the one is gone, and all along Cloud held deep feelings for Tifa. You’re also probably young and inexperienced when this happens. The romantic notion of Romeo and Juliet, if you will.

I think it also depends on how you deal with Aerith’s death. Personally, it wasn’t a huge deal to me. I was like damn did that just happen? I wouldn’t say I was sad, though, or upset. More shocked? Sadly at this point in my life, I’d already lost family members, and moving on is very important. I also didn’t notice Cloud doing ANYTHING romantic in the OG. It felt one sided all around until much, much later on. So I didn’t see it as Cloud losing the love of his life. I actually had no idea why he was upset except they were friends.

There’s a clear end to the potential romance between Cloud and Aerith - she dies. Now in the world of FFVII, Aerith is a Cetra and has the ability to communicate with the planet and apparently those that are still living once she dies. However, that doesn’t mean that Cloud is going to pursue a relationship with her... that is... crazy, right?

Apparently.. Not?

This is where I start having an issue with shipping. The story clearly shows that Aerith dies. The story clearly shows that Cloud harbors deep feelings for Tifa during the Lifestream scene. Both of these events are set - there are no alternatives, no optional scenes. At no point during the Lifestream is anybody else mentioned as a romantic interest. Tifa dominates this guy’s subconscious. But to some, there does seem to be an alternative.

The most extreme I’ve seen is that Cloud should kill himself to be with Aerith. This is disturbing on so many levels, so I’m not going to talk about it much. This not only misses the point of one of the big themes in FFVII, but also just shows how desperate people are to get what they want.

The other is that Cloud actually only loves Aerith and Tifa was his living rebound. The story doesn’t support this. Watch the Lifestream scene and it’s obvious. Once again, we have no mention of anybody else during this.

The mental gymnastics it takes to put Cloud and Aerith together as the canon couple blows my mind.

***

And that’s where I stopped. I had noticed at the time there was major pushback on anybody who denied romance between Cloud and Aerith. I guess I just wasn’t ready to deal with it nor did I have the confidence I suppose. Now I’m confident in that after three months of observing, learning, and contemplating.

So I’ll finish with a few thoughts because apparently in fandom land three months is a long time.

COVID-19 Quarantine

The majority of the world went under quarantine earlier this year due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Personally, the last time I saw my cubicle was March 9. Not that I’m sad, because I do enjoy working remotely. But it’s not just my cubicle, restaurants, zoos, everything was shut down and is slowly opening up but I’m not exactly keen on going somewhere unless I absolutely have to.

This gave me a ton of time to do other things. FFVII Remake came out, so I played that and, yeah, I got really obsessed and went into this depressed void of what the fuck am I going to do until the next part comes out? Hello, online fandom. Hello, insanity.

I’ve learned that the FFVII online fandom - specifically the shipping fandom - is crazy in good and bad ways. This, of course, was reignited by the Remake’s release, but most likely really amplified due to people being under quarantine. This is an escape from reality for a while. An escape from the constant depressing news cycle.

Before I discovered fandom I was obsessed with COVID-19 information. I watched all kinds of new broadcasts, Dr. Fauci, random people on YouTube, and it was overwhelming after a while. Remake saved me from that. I played Remake before I went into fandom. I played it as a non-shipper. I was slammed in the face with how amazing they portrayed Cloud and Tifa.

Self Insertion

The other piece that seems to be apparent in angry shippers is the idea of self insertion. This simply means that you put yourself in the place of the character, so you begin to take things personally. If a person self inserts as Cloud, and their personal preference is Aerith, they become angry when Aerith dies and we find out who Cloud TRULY loves. If somebody self inserts as Aerith, they’re upset that they were never a real love interest.

Most people go “oh okay, I see.” and move on and/or move to fanon if they truly wanted those two together.

Then there’s the people who, for 20+ years, spread false information, attack, stalk, and go ballistic anytime there’s any type of evidence that they were wrong.

The Big Ego

Nobody likes being wrong. FFVII has a major twist in it that causes you to go into a daze, and I do think they do a great job with that. Aerith isn’t it. Her death isn’t the big twist. It’s Cloud that’s the big twist. Going through the Lifestream (and even prior at the Northern Crater) reveals like ohhh shiitttt everything you know about Cloud is a lie.

And he even tells us it’s an illusion. Imagine that?

I am very strongly swayed by evidence from official resources. I suppose I take a scientific approach to this. I cannot find canon evidence that Cloud ever held any romantic feelings towards Aerith. Therefore, to me, Cloud never held any romantic feelings for anyone but Tifa because that’s what the game and resources tell us.

Luckily, the Remake is making things clear. The devs are being more direct when answering questions.

There was never supposed to be ambiguity or “player choice”. The fact that you lose player choice at one point and there are fixed events in the game (The Lifestream) that cannot be changed should have been evidence enough. The fact that there are not multiple endings should have been a clue.

With all of this being said, it shouldn’t matter what I say if you want to ship a fanon ship. I do not see any romance between Cloud and Aerith and I never have. There is no supporting evidence of it. I generally am boring - I don’t try to fanon too much stuff that I have other evidence for. I’ll do it in jest.

My opinion on Cloud and Aerith in general is I don’t think they work or ever could work. That shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the ship. You cannot claim canon on a ship though unless there’s evidence. There’s way too much twisting, lying, and deletion to justify certain ships. This is one of them.

#cloti #cloud x tifa #ff7 shipping war #ff7 ltd #ff7 #ff7 spoilers #ff7r #ff7r spoilers #don't let canon stop your fanon #canonny #yeah i'm boring #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #cloud strife #tifa lockhart

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years

Text

Blame the Pot Pie

Summary: Dean and Y/N have a little too much fun after a hunt resulting in an unexpected dilemma.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline

A/N: for @amanda-teaches #2k writer+reader challenge

Word Count: 2623

Warnings: angst, kissing, fondling/foreplay, oral teasing, mention of unprotected P/ V sex-wrap it up kiddos, some cursing, public shaming, mentions of drug use, drinking, unplanned pregnancy, use of Plan B One-step, possible pregnancy termination

Prompt: “Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!”

A/N II: Cherry-She completes your life

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Colorado

I slowly wake up so relaxed I can’t remember the last time feeling this good. The hunt turned out to be a simple salt and burn and after grabbing a shower and a bite, we stopped at the local dispensary to pick up a few necessities and found couple new items to try.

Stretching languidly, I glance over my shoulder at Dean, tiger striped by the morning light seeping through the drawn blinds, asleep on his stomach clutching his pillow, thankfully not bunched up under his head making him snore.

Many moons ago, I learned the hard way not to disturb a sleeping Dean Winchester when I tried to roll him over to stop the horrendous snoring he’s capable of when completely exhausted. That little maneuver got me the barrel of his Colt 1911A1 in my face and incoherent yelling.

I slept with Sam for a long time after that.

Smiling, I remember Jack telling me Cas calls Dean a very angry sleeper, like a bear. Can’t argue with feathers on that.

The bed dips behind me and a strong arm wraps around me with a smooth, sleep warm chest pressing flush to my back, “Wha’ so musing?” Dean’s drowsy, gravely voice asks as he nuzzles into my neck.

“Remembering a Cas’ism,” I replied, wriggling closer, his morning wood pressing against me, “Someone's wide awake, didn’t get enough last night?” Dean rocks his boxer brief clad cock against my ass in response.

“Or a little while ago?”

“Never get enough Cherry.”

I’ve always heard Dean call women sweetheart and occasionally baby but the first time Dean called me Cherry shocked the hell out of me.

I asked him if he knew what that nickname meant, after all, this is the guy who called himself meat man to his own brother.

He winked at me, cheeky bastard.

I shift onto my back as Dean moves to straddle my thighs, locking them between his muscular ones. Starting at my hips his calloused hands slowly glide over my body, pushing the t-shirt I stole from him to sleep in up, exposing my skin to his hungry gaze.

In our world, Dean Winchester is considered the best hunter alive, his only equal is his brother Sam. But there is another side to him that's rarely seen, reserved only for those who are family.

Dean can be incredibly gentle, loves waking me up with his teasing touches. Reaching my breasts, his thick fingers massage my nipples, sending shivers through me, pinching them hard enough they pebble up before continuing on to my arms, guiding them upwards and pulling the shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

Leaning over me Dean braces himself on his strong forearms entwining our fingers. He’s close enough I feel his breath on my face as I untangled my right hand and caress his scruffy cheek, tracing his full lips, feel him smile against my fingertips.

He turns his head and kisses my palm before closing the sparse distance to my lips, running his tongue across them, encouraging me to open up to let him explore inside.

Boy, does this man know how to kiss.

Dean pulls back, my bottom lip between his teeth before letting go, moving to kiss along my jaw and shifts to latch onto my neck, sucking on my pulse point.

“Hmm, you're gonna give me another hickey,” Dean sucks harder in response. I grab his hair on top where it’s longer, tugging till he pulls off to look at me.

His eyes are dilated and not just from desire.

“Dude, you’re still stoned.” I grin at him. Last night we kicked back with a few beers and a joint, trying a new hybrid strain.

Then came that pie.

“ ‘m not,” Dean tried sounding indignant before laughing, dropping his head back into my neck as we both laugh uncontrollably. I love to hear him sounding so untroubled, doesn’t get to do it enough.

Our outburst causes certain bits of us to rub together, reigniting our lust. Dean starts moving southward again, lips and tongue caressing my skin along his travels, stopping at his chosen destination and looks up at me licking his bottom lip.

“Frigging tease!” I pull his hair harder.

He smirks and, without breaking eye contact, slowly runs his tongue up over my outer lips before sliding off the end of the bed, turns, bending over sheds his underwear before walking towards his duffel.

Man has no shame so I freely admire his retreating posterior view.

Hunting has kept Dean fit the nearly twenty years I’ve known him, even with the double bacon cheeseburgers with extra onions and copious amounts of booze, thou not quite the same body he had at twenty-three.

I’ve witnessed guys our age be greener than his eyes envying his not-a-dad-body, possessing the juiciest peach of an ass on any man I’ve ever known.

He’s rooting in his duffel muttering, not coming up with a condom. “Try the table,” spotting the Walgreens bag by the empty pie tin.

“Sonuvabitch!” Dean exclaims, running both hands through his hair in his shitshitshit gesture looking panicked at the table.

I sit up...ooh crap, I feel a warmth spreading between my thighs that shouldn’t be.

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“What do you mean I can’t purchase it,” I’m about to go mental on this bumfuck towns pharmacist refusing to sell me Plan B, “I can see it right behind you.”

“I’m sorry I’m unable to sell you the Plan B-One Step today, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He raises his voice for the benefit of the locals eavesdropping on our conversation.

“Wait, I can purchase it tomorrow but not today,” I’m confused as hell and stare incredulously at the guy, “what’s so special about today?”

“It’s the sabbath, you should consider repenting for your obvious sins.” He retorted.

I blink not sure how to respond what this AssButts implying... when it hits me.

It’s the guy who runs the dispensary we went into last night, chatted with us, recommending some items to try. He saw us kissing and cuddling like a couple of teenagers (who'd thought it would take Chuck ending the other realities for Dean Winchester to PDA) must've overheard Dean whispering graphically on how he was gonna savor that pie and me, then slyly pointed out a few the topical products to try for a happy ending.

I suddenly feel like Olive in Easy A when everyone’s talking about her as I hear the tittering around me get louder, comments about the way I’m dressed, not having a ring on it, and the visible hickeys on my neck at my age.

Jealous much?

I look down realizing I had grabbed the first articles of clothing within reach, turns out to be Dean’s stuff that’s to big on me, including his boots.

And like Olive, I’m taking back control.

”Romans 2:3 And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them which do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the judgment of God?”

You could hear a pin drop, “Y’all need to consider that before passing judgement on others,” I clap back and head high, walk past the shocked gossip mongers towards the exit, ”especially ones versed in Hermeneutics.”

🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧

We crossed the Kansas border around eight that night, same Motörhead cassette playing all day. We haven’t spoken since leaving the motel late this morning.

Dean's jaw’s still ticking, he’s gonna have a helluva headache. His hand has a death grip on the wheel as he reaches for the Impalas lighter, igniting what must be like his eighteenth cigarette. There’s only one reason he’s smoking since Sam got him to quit umpteen years ago.

Dean’s freaking out.

I slide across the seat and ran my fingers along the back of his neck, lightly scratching into the short stands. “It’s both our faults, stop castigating yourself. I’ll get the pill tomorrow, being at the bunker it will be better when I take it, had a nauseating headache and cramped like hell last time.”

He shot me a surprised glance, “You, khmm, you had to… before?” His voice rougher with all those damn cigarettes.

“Once, wasn’t gonna chance it that one had slipped past the goalie.”

When Dean and I finally got together we agreed since so much of our lives is built on lying to others to get what we need, there wouldn’t be any between us. But breaking a lifelong habit is not easy, we’re still figuring stuff out and on several occasions intentionally hiding things has almost ended us.

Dean snubs out the cigarette, takes my hand and kisses my palm before entwining our fingers, resting them on his thigh rubbing his thumb over mine. I scoot closer, place my head on his shoulder and he turns to kiss my forehead comforting me.

“Don’t even think about kissing me on the mouth before brushing your teeth twice and gargle with holy water mister.” I growl mimicking his scary Dean voice and he gruffs out a laugh like I hoped he would.

“I’m sorry I’ve reacted like that back at the motel. I’ve never forgotten before, no matter how loaded I’ve been. Except that once…”

Dean’s voice falls off at the memory of the only child he’s positively known to have had, the Amazon daughter who’d have killed him if not for Sam.

I turn and kiss his cheek before laying back against his shoulder for the rest of the ride home.

🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧🥧

The Bunker

Seven weeks later

“The stay-at-home orders will be extended for another two weeks as the state has seen a rise in positive coronavirus cases over the weekend. Officials say this is likely due to the expanded testing around the state…”

“You could’ve sent us frogs or locusts but noooo, had to get creative on this one Chuck.” Dean sarcastically grumbles, switching off the kitchen radio and finishes cooking his breakfast.

Jack had grabbed a bowl of cereal before disappearing with Cas researching some new cryptic info that Billie had dropped on them the other day. Dean heard the main door bang shut at Sam’s returning from his morning run.

As he passes the freezer he grabs a smoothie setting it on the counter to thaw out since Sam’s drinking some weird concoctions for breakfast these days.

Sam enters the kitchen unexpectedly still in his sweaty clothes carrying a couple store bags and a concerned expression.

“Um, Dean, I don’t think Y/N has the flu,” he remarks, pulling out the unmistakable yellow and blue box. “I bought these two months ago.”

Dean looked up from his plate of bacon and cheesy eggs, eyes focusing on the unopened box. “Since when do you get my girlfriends things?” He asks, nodding at the box.

“Tampons, Dean. I’ll sometimes pick them up for her when it's my turn to do the shopping. I got these at CVS,” Sam shows him the receipt he found with them, “Y/N usually gets them from Rite-Aid.”

Dean clears his throat, mentally wincing at how his brother seemed to know more about Y/N’s preferences than him, “How do you know that’s the box you bought, maybe she got them there too?”

“The date on the receipt and she hasn’t updated her app.”

“App?” Dean inquires around a mouth full, looking confused.

“So a few days ago I was showing Jack the new archive program when a notification popped up about Y/N’s Period Tracker not being synced in fifty days. I didn’t think anything of it, figured she missed it with everything going on, Jess sometimes did with hers. I checked the WC and found these. I checked again today they were still there and she hasn’t entered her last two periods. I stopped in town and got this.” He hands the other bag to Dean.

Dean opens the bag like something’s gonna attack him before gingerly pulling out the Clear Blue Digital Pregnancy Test.

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“It could be wrong, a false positive because she took it wrong.”

“All you do is pee on the end of the stick and wait three minutes for the results,” Sam's tone exacerbated at his brother's bullshit excuses, “even you couldn’t screw that up Dean.”

“She could be in that peripause.”

“What the hell is peripause?”

“Don’t you know what it’s called Mr. Know-it-all?”

“Peri-menopause,” My voice booms throughout the library startling them both, “and FYI you two, when a woman hits her forties all this,” I say gesturing in a circle around my middle, ”doesn’t automatically stop functioning normally.”

“Your forty-one! The chances of you getting pregnant goes down after thirty something!” Dean snaps setting me off in a nanosecond.

“Halle Berry got pregnant the old fashion way at forty-seven!” I shot back really pissed at the shitty excuses he’s trying. “Should’ve known you’d react like dear old dad to unwelcome news.”

Sam shot out of his seat at the expression crossing Dean’s face, contorting into the look that makes monsters with any sense run for its life, ready to step in if needed.

“Since I can’t go to the clinic thanks to Chuck's latest temper tantrum get Castiel so we can settle this,” I head for the doorway leading to the kitchen and pause.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. It’s obvious you don’t want to have a baby w...” I hurried out not finishing the sentence. Fucking hell, I’m hormoning already.

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Dean can’t stop pacing back and forth in my bedroom as Castiel gently lays his hand over my lower abdomen and closes his eyes in concentration.

“Come on man, is she or isn’t she?” Dean impatiently barks at the angel.

“Dude!” Sam snaps with his exasperated little brother expression from the desk chair he’s seated upon with Jack perched on the desk itself.

Cas opened his brilliant blue eyes wondrously staring into mine.

I stare back.

“Yes, you are pregnant.”

“How the hell are you pregnant? You said you took the morning after pill!” Sam’s chair scraped the floor as he jumped started by Dean’s lashing out at me in anger. I don’t react knowing it’s his go to coping mechanism when he’s scared.

“She took the pill Dean.” Cas reassures him at the same time tipping his head to the side reading what I’m not voicing.

I can’t believe it failed..what could it do to the fetus...the alcohol and drugs I’ve ingested all this time...

Castiels rough voice takes on an unusually gentle cadence snapping me out of my own head, “I do not detect any birth defects Y/N, they are quite healthy.”

“Wait, what do you mean they Cas?” Sam speaks first seemingly the only one who caught the last bit.

“Twins? We’re…we’re having twins?!” Jack excitedly blurts out, “I’m gonna be a big brother!”

“I think we should leave. Dean and Y/N have a lot to discuss.” Cas says getting up cocked his head at Jack to proceed him out the door. Sam gives his brother a look I can’t decipher.

“I’m good Sammy,” Dean tells his brother so he’ll go, not breaking eye contact with me.

Sam gazes over at me and I nod it’s fine to leave. He squeezes Dean’s shoulder and heads out shutting the door behind him.

We stare at each other for a few moments before Dean rubs his face and walks over sitting down on the other side of the bed and pulls me into his arms, neither of us ready to face the decision that makes the most sense.

tbc

A/N: I originally planned on ending this here. That being said, I am seriously considering doing a part II because I hate breaking Dean’s heart.

A/NII: I’ve gotten a lot of great feedback and will be doing a part Il.

Find it here

#2k writer+reader challenge #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack kline

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

Text

All you need to know about my sucky rewrite

Since the actual show’s getting greenlit here’s my sooperoriginal ideas of my reboot/rewrite/reimagine thing called “Happy hotELL”

The cast of “Happy hoteLL” are renamed versions of the Hazbin cast:

Charly, Vee (she’s nick-named “Vaggy” by Engel) Engel, Niftie, Hux, Alastair, Lord Satan and Lilian, Flim-Flam and JibJab, Karen Killjoy, Sir Pantsless.

The main villains would be human!archangels based on Estus Pirkle and Kirk Cameron.

The main demons under Charly all embody a deadly sin in how they ended up in hell: Engel = Wrath (hated himself and other people), Niftie = Envy (tormented people at school in order to impress a boy), Hux = Lust (stalked/objectified various women in his life), Vee = Pride (too proud to admit she made bad choices), and Alastar = Gluttony (for reasons already discussed here).

Setting

The “afterworld”, the setting our characters inhabit, is separated into three sections: HEAVEN which is where the Archangels rule and were “good” souls go; HELL, which is the main setting of the show and where the archangels swoop down to purge of all the “bad” souls that end up there; and LIMBO, a primordial pocket-dimension with no direct portal to through the other two worlds. Limbo turns out to be the place the archangels, the true rulers of Heaven, are hiding. The mortal or ‘human’ world is between Heaven and Hell and is accessed by similar means to how it is in Helluva Boss.

Angels and demons which were never human are referred to as ARCHANGELS/OVERLORDS and CHERUBS/IMPS. Ascended/damned souls are those of people who’ve ended up in either Heaven or Hell.

Heaven and Hell both have class systems. Imps and Overlords and Cherubs and Archangels are SUPPOSED to rule over all the human souls in their care. But Heaven’s archangels have gone missing - abandoned their posts for the peaceful content of limbo - leaving human angels to rise up and over time dictate how Heaven is to be run and who gets redeemed....this is as bad as you think it is, as the human!archangels care only for their “purity” over everyone else and keep people who should be allowed into heaven out just for not being to their standards - like Vee. The Overlords of Hell are unaware of this and have been unknowingly doing the human!angels’ business for hundreds of years.

>The implication that this system for disposing of evil souls has failed is made well before the second season twist because damned human souls (Alastair) have become overlords and exist in Hell without being purged as an open secret, even to Charly’s parents. The only reason the true Overlords oppose any of the human!Overlords’ reign is because it disrupts their order in Hell, not out of any sense of justice.

There is NO monotheistic deity in this world; angels and demons used to live in “pantheons”, aka tribes, across the earth where they created life and the ecosystems there as well - thusly, they became gods to the people of these regions too. Satan and Lilian are from what would come to be the Abrahamic angels. In time, other mythologies’ underworld counterparts - and even some benevolent gods - would have the power diminish on earth and they’d have to live in Hell if they didn’t want to be wiped out by the crusades the Archangel’s influence over humans. Understandably, a lot of non-Abrahamic angels and demons are NOT fond of this appropriation/erasure of their culture and want their own realm’s back, even trying to run their own redemption operation/afterlife control in secret or in limbo. (Imagine Charly meeting a Vivziepoped versions of Hades and Persephone or Oxhead and Horseface telling her to fuck off and her just being like “I KNEW someone had the same idea! I JUST KNEW IT! <3<3<3″)

ALL mortal souls are supposed to be sent to hell but a great many of them are KEPT from heaven because of the human!archangels.

A demon is redeemed by either setting right a wrong they did in life or sacrificing their happiness for another. This is what happens to Vee at the end of the first season, which leaves Charly without a manager through season 2.

Satan’s backstory is a parody of Paradise Lost as he was the most beautiful angel in his pantheon before the others kicked him out. In revenge he took Lilian, their “first woman”, for his wife and rallied up an army which apparently ended with one mass-extinction event on earth.

There’s a section of Hell where demons who represent different vices/drugs live. It’s referred as “Viceland” and is treated like a kitty theme park.

Demons (overlord, imp, or damned-souls) can all be summoned by mortals who know their way with unholy magic. They’re summoned at really inconvenient times and for really worthless deeds and this would be a great source of comedy for the show and an excuse to get characters to the mortal realm.

Story

The first episode/pilot/episodes/minimovie/whatever would be basically the same as the pilot but with a few tweaks:

It shows a person dying, going to Hell, becoming a demon, and being purged (which the audience not quite knowing what just happened to him) with Engel happily takes the dead demon’s things once the dust clears. Then Charly and Vee’s limo pulls up to him and ask him if he’s interested in a “new gig”. Que title and credits.

Charly initially opens the hotel with the promise that it will be a place for vice and booze but lets it slip that it’s a front for rehabilitation. Once Engel’s story is picked up on by the network, Vee and Charly’s assistants (Flimflam and JibJab) attack Karen and destroy the news station.

It’s Engel - not Vee - who recognizes Alastair as the threat that he is - later it’s revealed that Engel was present during Alastair’s initial takeover and that his radio frequencies damaged Engel’s eye. Vee doesn’t believe him until she sees Alastair’s absorbtion powers, which is when she allows him to stay employed by the hotel to help take Alastair down.

Alastair stresses the need for Charly to keep him working with her a secret, ESPECIALLY from her parents. He’s technically a criminal in hell and he convinces Charly that her parents will be impressed with her bad deed once the jig is up.

The rest of Season 1 would probably be Alastair setting up the hotel while the main cast of demons become more aquainted with each other and the different levels of Hell.The end of season 1 would feature Alastair double-crossing Charly and consuming the hotel in his likeness while it’s hosting a demon’s ball - in the hopes of getting enough souls to reignite his takeover. Vee, Engel, and Charly manage to escape the hotel and Charly overpowers and defeats Al by destroying his microphone - thus releasing all the souls he’s trapped, and then destroys his physical form.

Season 2 would start with a face reveal of Satan, Charly’s father, as he forces her to eat Alastair’s heart which will put him under her control. She does, but Alastair’s conscience manifests inside Charly’s head and mocks her ideas throughout the season. Also in the opening Vee would become and angel and ascends for Heaven, leaving Charly to manage the now very popular hotel alone until Engel rises up to become her #2.

Season 2 would be more explorative, with more stuff featuring the demon’s lives as humans, Charly’s role in Hell, and even Vee in Heaven. We’d learn more about the way Hell, Heaven and Limbo work as Charly manages to redeem a couple more damned souls. At the end of the season, the demons discover a dead cherub with a message from Vee begging Charly for help. Charly first attempts to pass through the hidden realm of Limbo to get to Heaven, but Hux runs off with their means to get there, so instead she vomits up Alastair, the only other demon who knows how to get to heaven, and he assists them on the condition that he be granted amnesty once they return to Hell. In the end, Charly and co. discover Heaven’s corrupted state and realize the Archangels are missing, Vee looses her wings but ascends into a fallenangel, and they all escape the bloodthirsty angels due to Lilian’s interference.

The Overlords of Hell prepare for a new war with Heaven and Charly’s parents send her to the mortal realm for her protection. In the mortal realm, Charly and the demons disguise themselves and their base of operation as a bed and breakfast. Charly has trouble reeling in the overexcited demons who are out of place in this new time while also keeping Alastair, who has stashed away with her, from trapping souls.

Halfway through season 3 Engel and the other motel staff find out Alastair’s human identity, which he was desperate to hide, and bring his now elderly human daughter to him. This causes Alastair to freak out and consume the bed and breakfast. Once Charly brings him to, his physical takes on that of a baby deer but his psyche and abilities are completely nulled.

While this is going on Vee, Hux, and Charly’s parents have their own adventures in Limbo where they meet the Archangels who have no idea how corrupt Heaven has gotten in their absence. It’s only through Hux and Vee that the main group is finally all reuninted in Hell where the finale takes place :

Engel and Niftie ascend into fallenangels and alongside Vee lead a brigade against the angels who now want to wipe out all the demons; Charly guilt trips her parents and the Archangels into taking action and combining their power to dismantle the angel’s weapons; Alastair comes back and personally takes out the main human!archangel and himself by throwing them into the center of Hell; big stupid happy lesbian ending fartjoke.

end

Characters

Charly’s relationship dynamic to her parents is flipped: her father, Satan (he doesn’t like being called Lucifer) LOVES her. He shares a lot of her personality and at worst doesn’t take Charly seriously or cares about her ambitions. Lilian, Charly’s mother resents her daughter. Lilian was hoping her daughter would bring forth the apocalypse but Charly doesn’t want to do that. It’s implied Charly’s optimism and need to help people comes from her father’s days as an Archangel, and her mother especially hates the angels for casting her out, which leads to her resenting Charly.

This doesn’t stop Satan from being genuinely impressed with his daughter’s achievements and for Lilian to be be the panicked-parent when she learns that Charly has broken into Heaven at the end of season 2.

The Royal Family is not actively malicious. They’re more like privileged jailers on the top of the Hell-foodchain. The most evil things about them are their apathy towards human atrocities (and their subjects pain, of course), their occasional bouts of sadism, and their genuine glee at the thought of destruction - namely the apocalypse, which Satan and Lilian speak fondly about like a married couple would their retirement plans.

After Charly shows her true form while taking out Alastair, the other Overlords and Imps (i.g. Karen and 666 News) start heaping praise on her out of fear that she’ll retaliate for all the mockery they made of her when she unveiled her plan. Charly is uncomfortable with this.

Engel is BAD at his pornstar/sexworker career. He tries to sell himself as a sass-master incubus but can’t achieve this status in the demon hierarchy because of his short fuse and violent nature.

Engel thinks he’s in hell because he’s gay and likes crossdressing. In reality it’s because he was a member of a crime family and a murderous gangster, named Anatole Slinkoff. The first people he killed were his father and brother as he was assisting a young-up-and-coming rival who would eventually become his boss.

Speaking of that boss, Anatole fell in love with him. On Anatole’s birthday he and the boss got drunk and he ended up confessing his feelings. The boss invited a sobered up Anatole back to his flat the following week and seemed to return his affections with a kiss...which was then followed by a fatal stabbing. Engel never got over the heartbreak/betrayal.

Engel starts off as a toxic enabling jackass who lives in denial and uses sex and drugs to cope with how unhappy he is with himself. In season 2 he becomes Charly’s #2 and builds a strong friendship with her. Also in season 2 Engel meets his father, brother, and mother who are also in hell for their crimes. His father and bro amazingly forgive him for killing them while Engel’s mother - a god-fearing woman who would beat Engel if she found him wears makeup or playing with dolls as a child - asks him for forgiveness, saying she’s the reason her family and he specifically ended up where he did. After Engel patches things up with them he tries to locate the souls of the people he killed and in the process finds out his old boss went to Heaven. At first Engel sets out to kill his boss and get revenge, but upon actually finding him living in fear in Limbo, he can’t bring himself to do so and instead chooses to just not forgive him.

Engel ascends/becomes a fallenangel in the final season when he meets an imp with a similar taste of humor and style. Rather than rush into a relationship as he’s done with every person he’s got with since he ended up in hell, Engel tells his new lover he wants to wait until he’s stable for a relationship, which triggers his transformation.

Molly doesn’t exist. Molly is instead the name of Engel’s feminine alterego and later the name Engel takes up as a fallenangel.

Vee, like Engel, also thinks she’s in hell for all the wrong reasons: She ran away from her controlling parents, thinking she could live on her own just fine. She could not. Instead she wound up turning to a life of crime and prostitution to support herself after a plethora of bad decisions and heartbreaks. When her parents sent word out all over the country, begging her to come back and that they were wrong, but she still refused. In the end one of her clients ended up strangling her. Her soul SHOULD have been one that went to Heaven but was barred off by the human!archangels for being a “thug”. Vee tried to get herself purged after her first few months in Hell, convinced that she deserved it, but Charly saved her and the blast instead only took out one of her eyes. Vee and her story are Charly’s main inspiration to open up the hotel.

Vee and Charly obviously have a romantic relationship from the start but Vee doesn’t see their love as anything serious. When Vee becomes an angel at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2, she rather cruelly leaves Charly without a second thought and discards their relationship is ‘passing sin’. It isn’t until she spends more time in Heaven, seeing the other angels’ being restricted (including her parents, who admit to actually being miserable in Heaven) and finding her rejection notice from the human!archangels that Vee realizes she does love Charly and that her redemption was always HER doing, not someone else’s.

Vee makes the unwise decision to confront the Archangels (whom she doesn’t know are actually human souls) about this treatment. They respond by locking Vee away and performing a “purification” on her which is like electroshock therapy. This sedates Vee into a mindless drone, much to the horror of the cherubs, angels, and eventually Charly and the gang.

Vee, in her purified state, doesn’t want to leave Heaven and go back to Hell. Charly, realizing the woman she loves is gone, tearfully tells her she won’t ask Vee to be anything she doesn’t want to be and that she loves her. This confession breaks through to the real Vee. Their happy reunion is cut short however by the human!archangels who rip off Vee’s wings, causing her and Charly to fall. It’s here though that Vee again ascends, this time into a fallenangel, and grows her own pair of wings and an angels’ weapon which she uses to kill Perkins, the head archangel and save the rest of the cast.

Throughout season 3, Vee and Charly’s parents turn the Happy Hotel into a refuge for human souls and imps while the angels and demons prepare for new spiritual warfare. Vee also tracks down Hux and multiple other “lost souls” in Limbo in her search for the Archangels.

Vee commands Hell’s army alongside Molly and Niftie in the show’s final climax and she gets a happy ending running a shanty motel in Limbo alongside Charly.

In life, Niftie was a teenager who tried to grow up too fast and gave up her hobbies and interests to impress her childhood friend (whom she was in love with). By following the lead of a more popular classmate, Niftie became a bully who ruled her school’s social status. Then she learned that her “teacher” had been in love with the same guy and he was returning her feelings - which drove Niftie into a rage and she tried killing the both of them on their senior prom night. She tried running them over with her car, putting the girl in the hospital, paralyzing the boy forever, and ruining her reputation at school (for saying she couldn’t drive when she did; not for the attempted murder). The boy she loved hated her, and the rest of the school bullied her until she gave in and took her own life in the bathroom.

The other demons are especially sympathetic towards Nifty. Charly finds it horrible that she end up in hell at such a young age. Hux is very protective of her. However, Niftie is more self-aware than she appears; she acts more childish than she actually is because she wishes she was still a kid, but does NOT like being treated like a literal child - especially by Charly and Engel. She only warms up to Charly when Hux abandons her and she’s forced to be an authority figure under Engel while the group stages things out in the mortal realm.

In the mortal realm, Niftie ends up coming across her old hishschool friend, now an old woman in a wheelchair, who believes it’s her fault everything ended the way it did. Niftie tells the lady not to feel guilty and instead apologizes to her - which ignites Niftie’s ascension into a fallenangel.

Hux was a moderately successful show magician. Heartbroken by being unable to woo a woman he loved with his success, he turned to drinking and took up relationships with women who worked under him - all of these relationships were toxic and Hux would break their hearts and ruin their lives. When Hux arrived in Hell it was during a purge. He found his original sweetheart there but she, not him, was purged, cementing Hux’s views of redemption and justice...that there is NONE.

Hux is mostly apathetic and disbelieves along with everyone else in Charly’s plan UNTIL he finds out that one of the women he hurt escaped into Limbo. When the main cast tried to use their one passage to Limbo to get to Heaven in season 2, Hux takes the pass for himself.

In Season 3, Vee finds Hux enjoying his time in Limbo and calls him out for his selfishness. Hux introduces her to all the women he wronged, who DON’T forgive him, and also his new business in Limbo selling drinks that make people recall their past lives.

Together with Vee, Hux thinks up a plan to have the overcrowded souls of Hell and Heaven wait out the war in Limbo while simultaneously kicking out the Archangels so that they won’t notice the influx of souls in their realm.

Sir Pantsless is the show’s biggest buttmonkey and is constantly abused. He’s a tiny demon trying to ride off other Overlord’s success and who’s design is a wimpy, trying-to-hard version of Charly’s dad. In life, Sir Pantsless was a Victorian-era businessman who lived a long, happy life of abusing child-workers in factories and getting away with all his evil deeds. Charly’s dad even admits to keeping him out of the purge purposefully because he finds Pantsless’ pain amusing.

Themes and other stuff worth noting

If there’s a lesson I guess I’d try to push with the ending of this rewrite it would be, ironically, that neither Heaven nor Hell hold your true morality. It’s on you for making mistakes; it’s up to you to overcome them - you literally have to go through hell - to fix them! It also shouldn’t be up to Heaven and Hell how punishment/enlightenment works or why it’s worth anything.

This is NOT supposed to be an antireligion/antiChristian story. Not at ALL. It’s anti absolutism and anti religiousSUPREMACY story. I know then that people will probably not want me basing this version of Heaven off Evangelicals, but like Viv, that’s the religion that closest for me to criticize. If I were Jewish or Hindu or Muslim I would so be about tearing their hypocrisies down....but I’m not. I know all about the injustices in those religions but I’m not comfortable tearing them a new one as a white Christian. My mother’s fam are recovering Christian Science-folk. Also, have you watched anything about Left Behind? It’s genuinely an eye opening experience when it comes to Americanized Christianity and even the lore of Hell and Demons in regards to the book of revelations.

Lotsa references to The Divine Comedy and Paradise Lost with the implication that these works are fan fiction to the demons of actual events with Dante never even making it out of Hell because he was too prideful. (Charly’s father has two faces in his wings/comb which are constantly chewing parts of Dante like chewing gum).

I know Viv says she’s hoping to get Weird Al to voice Lucifer. Personally I think a better unlikely but TOTALLY FITTING devil would be mah man Martyn Jacques of The Tiger Lillies. They even have a circus motif!

Engel probably claims his name is supposed to be misspelled on purpose. In reality, it’s cause he was drunk when submitting his resume to be an incubus and made a typo for his new name.

Vee’s human name is Marianna Posada. GET IIIIIT.

Alastair’s human name is Edward Hastings. Edward being the name of the American Murder Song which inspired my Alastair, while Hastings is the last name of the man who helped doomed the Donner Party.

#hazbin hotel rewritten #redesign #rewrite #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor

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crusherthedoctor · 4 years

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As someone who plays games and enjoys stories that aren't terrible, I always love it when the setting of a tale is allowed to truly manifest. That is to say, when there's just as much attention put into it as there is for the characters, to the point where the setting might as well be its own character. It doesn't always have to be completely in-your-face mind you, but generally speaking, if you can feel the amount of personality given to the location, there's a nine out of ten chance that I'm going to appreciate it. Bonus points if it's really pretty.

Naturally, this extends to the world of Sonic. Though the level of backstory varies when not taking Japanese manuals into account, the many islands/planets/theme parks in space/parallel dimensions Sonic has visited over the years nonetheless tend to hold a lot of charm with the way their zones and stages are presented. And when it comes to Sonic in particular - when they're at their best - his style of environments have the perfect aesthetic for my personal tastes: full of whimiscal, cartoony character, yet beautiful and sincere at the same time (or ominous and sincere, in the case of Eggman's moodier fortresses and the like).

So it goes without saying that this has been one major focus of mine while writing for Sonic & Tails: Beyond the Stars, my own little fanfic adventure for the blue hedgehog. From the moment I started putting my story into words, I wanted to make an effort to give the land of Viridonia the same love and focus that was given to the likes of Angel Island and the Little Planet in the official installments. Granted, it helps that the nature of my story already relies on a considerable amount of presence for my setting, but that alone would be insufficient. We have to go deeper. We have to go... advanced.

Long story short, I spend far too much time imagining locations in my head for my oh-so-epic fanfic where a 90's caricature confronts his breakfast mascot arch-nemesis for the nth time. Seriously, do not underestimate me on this. I think about the colour schemes. I think about the architecture. I think about not only what type of music would fit each location, but also the specific mood to go along with it. “No guys, it would have THIS kind of icy music, not THAT kind of icy music.”

Hell, I even make crappy MSPaint flags that represent each of the zones, Unleashed-style, which are “proudly” displayed in the appropriate chapters. I'm on a drug, and that drug is making Sonic settings come to life despite existing purely in written form. Please help me.

So I figured I might as well expand a bit on some details that may interest those of you who read my fic, that couldn't be acknowledged too much in the fic itself without severely ruining the pacing of the story in the process. Note that you will NOT miss anything important in the fic proper if you skip on these posts. It's just a fun bit of behind-the-scene elaboration on the thought and inspiration involved, if you're into that sort of thing. Nothing more, nothing less.

Oh, and by the way? I hope you like Spyro the Dragon comparisons, because there's gonna be a lot of them as this series goes on, and I won’t be sorry for any of it. :] Yes, it's hardly surprising that my equal love for Spyro's environments (specifically Classic/Reignited Spyro, as I was never a Legend or Skylanders fan) plays a recurring influence in the way I visualize my Sonic zones, mainly with the way colour contrast is often used. That's not to say that the Sonicy aspects are lost or forgotten, though. After all, their universes are already pretty similar in terms of general aesthetic, so it's not too much of a stretch anyway IMO.

Anyhow, this intro has gone on long enough, so let's begin with the central hub of Viridonia, shall we? (I was originally gonna lump in Trudy’s castle and Gleaming Meadows in the one part, but each of them ended up being even longer than I expected, so uh, guess they’ll have to be separate.)

Creating the Hub: Lime Shores

Right off the bat, my goal with Lime Shores was very simple: to make it different from Station Square. No disrespect to Station Square, I love it as much as the next SA1 fan (especially its music!), but considering that a recurring motif of Beyond the Stars is to mirror certain aspects of SA1's story WITHOUT completely copying the whole routine, it was doubly important for the central town of Viridonia to have its own identity to help further that point. And since Lutrudis - and the rest of the folk on the island - are all inexplicably English to varying degrees and varying stereotypes, I knew what had to be done.

I’d make it look like Solihull, of course.

What? You thought it'd be based on London? HA. That comes later, in more Eggmanian territory. No, for Lime Shores, I wanted something a bit more gentle, something more quiet, something that looks rustic yet refined in equal measures... and something that contrasts greatly with the unique oddity that's been placed upon it.

Because let's not forget, as an everlasting side-effect of the Ethereal Zone's lingering power, much of the stony architecture has been given a nice gleam that causes it to change colour depending on the time of the day. Whereas in the daytime it looks suitably turquoise, the tones change to purple and pink by nighttime.

This might also explain why some occasional buildings look a bit... SEGA World-y...

It was important to make the town down-to-earth (for Sonic standards), because that way the Ethereal effects would be more striking. If it was a big proud metropolis like Station Square or Empire City, it wouldn't have the same impact. You'd still probably notice it, sure, but the contrast between the quaint vibe of the town with the increasing wonder if it was touched by aliens or some shit would be lost. (But don’t worry, a big proud metropolis is indeed featured in this story. You’ll get your Speed Highway fix in due time, though as expected, that too has an identity of its own...)

And of course, no area with Shore in the title is complete without, well, a shore. And sure enough, the waters near the shore are a slightly deeper sea green than average, even without the help of its nearby shiny rocks...

But what sort of music, pray tell, would accompany this unique town that kicks off Sonic's latest adventure? Well it may have a gentle disposition in spite of the Ethereal alterations, but it's still a Sonic adventure we're talking about, and Sonic is obviously going to be excited as hell to explore this new land with or without Eggman shenanigans in the mix. So to reflect his particular brand of upbeat passion, I think something along these lines will do nicely. (NOTE: I’ve decided to include two tracks for each location - some of them not even being Sonic-related - for the sake of more comparison and for driving the intended tone home all the more.)

youtube

But then, that's for the daytime. When it's night, however, we'll need something a little more relaxing and calm, yet still capturing a similarly mysterious atmosphere...

youtube

Also, there's a (completely optional) training simulator set up by Tails in Lime Shores. Should you ever try it out to brush up your skills in beating all those Eggman robots, the simulation would appear very reminiscent of the Colosseum from Sonic Battle, if it decided to trade in its green for blue. This is apparently the only noteworthy visual change in this piece of Miles Prower technology since 2004. Go figure.

And finally, yes, the town comes with such charmingly English luxuries like a post office, a tavern, a museum, a spa, and... a Chao Garden.

Yes, they would all have different music tracks of their own.

No, I'm not going to list what I have in mind for each one. That would make this post longer - and sadder - than it already is.

#Creating Viridonia #Sonic the Hedgehog #Fanfiction

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