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redwyvernan · 9 days ago

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Andruil was the elven goddess of the hunt, and the stories of the Dalish make her out to be someone who primarily respected nature. According to the codex entries in DAI, Andruil would teach the elves how best to not misuse the land. She created the Way of Three Trees (which is specifically mentioned by Davrin during his personal quest where he discusses Eldrin, who taught him that there were some things in the forest which should not be hunted), which tells elves to “receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness” and to “not let your prey suffer.” Of course, we also know that the reality was different: Andruil was a warlord like the other members of the Evanuris; she created and used powerful weapons to crush her enemies and bound her slaves’ life forces to herself for power. The idealized version of Andruil favored mindfulness, similar to the way of a shepherd; the reality of Andruil favored the hunt, and killing the prey at any cost. While much of Davrin’s story is focused on Assan, I think that a lot of the things he says about Assan apply to himself as well (although I 100% agree that they should have made that more obvious; I think the writers were rushed in a lot of places). Assan and Davrin are both hunters who have been raised to and trained to kill; Davrin specifically says that he feels like a knife that’s been sharpened to confront the worst evil in the world and that he doesn’t know what to do with himself after facing (and killing) the archdemon. Davrin is aware of another path for the griffons from early on—he wonders if they could be something different than darkspawn hunters. He never verbalizes this about himself, but in my mind I’m sure he was thinking it—What about me? What if I could be more than a hunter? In his early conversations, he makes mention of how he started hunting for a purpose. When he achieves that purpose (killing the archdemon), he has no idea what to do. What use is a hunter who has hunted all there is to hunt? The answer: a hunter who becomes a shepherd. Davrin embodies the Way of Three Trees, and therefore Andruil. He is a hunter who learns to become a shepherd again. Of course, it’s up to Rook whether he and the griffons truly follow that path. The other option is to remain a hunter—to keep fighting darkspawn with the griffons. We already know how poorly that ended once. We know how poorly it ends for each Warden. To continue the hunt leads only to oblivion—much like how in elven mythology, Andruil’s obsession with the hunt led her to use the armor of the void, which corrupted her and made her a danger to everyone around her. Davrin embodies the question of Andruil: to hunt, or to protect? What arm does he raise—the sword, or the shield? (In case you couldn’t tell, he’s one of my favs.)

Now, onto Falon’din. He is described post-imprisonment of the Evanuris as the “friend of the dead,” which seems like a glaringly obvious parallel to Emmrich “my son is a skeleton” Volkarin. Pre-fall of the Evanuris, the elves didn’t die, however, so it would perhaps be more accurate to describe Falon’din as a “friend to the spirits.” In both cases, however, Falon’din serves as a guide who ushers people into something beyond—either death, or uthenera. Regardless, the idealized Falon’din embodies the kinship one can have with creatures of the Fade, just like Emmrich. The truth about Falon’din is much more sinister, however, just like the rest of the Evanuris: according to Solas in DAI, Falon’din craved praise and would kill anyone who would not worship him until Mythal beat his ass into submission in his own house. I would argue that Emmrich’s arc is tied both to Johanna Hezenkoss AND to the difference between an eternal slumber and mortality. I’ll start with Hezenkoss. Johanna embodies the truth of who Falon’din was: somebody who craves attention and applause so much that they will use and abuse anyone—even innocent spirits—to get it. She has the same magical techniques as Emmrich (with the exception of being a psychagogue) and is half-undead. In another world, Emmrich could have turned out like her. Like Falon’din, she craved applause and was willing to use the lifeblood and lifeforce of anyone she could to get it—her ego is only matched by the size of her bone construct, similar to how one who craves godhood might craft an idol of themselves for others to worship. Emmrich, on the other hand, craves nothing but a release from his terror of death. He admires and loves spirits, and in some sense his desire for lichhood brings him closer to them, for they are mostly immortal (with exceptions, as seen with how spirits are mistreated). His arc culminates in choosing between mortality (and his love for others, particularly Manfred) and immortality. In both circumstances he would still be something of a guide to others—if Emmrich does not become a lich, he remains a guide to students as a professor, and especially Manfred, his newest student. This is Emmrich as the Falon’din who guides people into the place beyond death; since Emmrich is a death mage/mortalitasi, he quite literally guides people on how to use necromancy (that is, death). If Emmrich does become a lich, he still serves as something of a guide, but one far more removed and detached from the mortals of reality. In this sense Emmrich is similar to the Falon’din who guides people beyond uthenera; especially since the eternal sleep was for elves who had grown too old and wanted to leave room for newer generations of elves. In both cases, Emmrich is still better than Hezenkoss, who would have torn Nevarra (and the Fade) apart to get what she wanted. All things considered, Emmrich’s parallel is fairly self-explanatory.

(Dirthamen and Falon’din are twins, which I find particularly interesting. In Emmrich and Neve’s early banter, it is clear that Nevarra and Tevinter are something of magical rivals—similar, but different and distinct in the ways that they practice their respective magics (although one certainly seems a lot more evil in regards to its history). In terms of parallels, this appears to be a rather weak link, however, since to my knowledge there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of overlap between the two thematically.)

Next we have Sylaise and Taash. I would like to preface this specific section with this: I do not like how Taash’s personal quest has them choose between two aspects of their cultural identity. I will not be discussing Taash’s arcs in those terms. Instead, what I will be discussing is this: the difference between uses of fire. While this is not a perfect analysis and I acknowledge that there are things I will probably get wrong, I will do my best to treat it with respect. With that said, let’s begin.

Sylaise, as idealized by the elves, is similar to the Greek depiction of Hestia. She was the hearthkeeper, the one who gave fire to the elves and taught them to heal themselves with herbs and magic. She also taught the elves how to “spin the fibers of plants into thread and rope.” She was an inspiration, who taught the elves how to live. Notable parallels here include: Taash literally being an adaari (fire breather), how Taash’s trinket is usually a bag of herbs (presumably for their throat), and how much emphasis is placed on the dar saam (the sign of those who follow the Qun). More importantly, Sylaise focuses on the home. According to the DAO codex entry, it is why elves “sing to her when [they] kindle the fires and when [they] put them out.” What I would posit is this: I think that, much like Sylaise, Taash is set up to be a great leader to the Qunari. What that looks like depends on whether or not Taash chooses to follow the Qun or remain Vashoth in Rivain. If the former is chosen, Taash rejoins the Qunari and vows to whip them into shape in order to prepare for the “Devouring Storm” (which I’m still working on some theories about). Taash is set up to be a Qunari leader with a position of honor—we don’t know what this will look like, necessarily. If the latter is chosen, Taash is still a leader, but a more comfortable and relaxed one—rather than focusing on whipping the Qunari into shape, Taash remains with the Lords of Fortune, doing what they love, and instead kindly invites members of the Antaam who want to leave into the fold. I would argue the distinction here is between the Large Organization and the Home. Taash’s arc is directly related to fire. Will they embrace a sort of fire that is for the home—the kind of fire that welcomes one in from the cold after harsh weather? Or will they embrace the sort of fire that focuses on burning, on removing impurities and flammable weaknesses? The Qun that we were shown in previous games seems to fit the latter (although the Qun shown in this game is clearly presented differently, so I have no idea how accurate of a statement this is), whereas the Lords of Fortune seem to fit the former (for the most part, although it’s hard to tell with how little information we are given about them). These are generalizations—please do not take them to be gospel. (I’m struggling a little bit with this parallel, honestly—it doesn’t seem to fit as neatly as the others do, with the exception of fire.)

Finally, we have Rook. This one is a little more complicated. I think Rook could be considered a parallel to either Mythal OR Solas (Fen’Harel). It mostly depends on how Rook treats the companions AND Solas himself.

First, the Mythal parallels. From what we’ve learned about spirits in this game, we know that spirits who took on physical form became the first elves. We know that like spirits, these ancient elves were still susceptible to being twisted against their purpose and becoming demon-like. Wisdom gives way to Pride. Command gives way to Tyranny. Benevolence gives way to Retribution. From what we’ve learned of Mythal in this game, we know that her manipulation of Solas began to twist him into something he was never meant to be, even if her intentions were supposedly “benevolent.” When it comes to the companions, there are two choices, with one implied by the narrative to be the “good” choice and the “bad” choice. I agree that some of the choices and narratives are poorly executed and deserved more attention. My analysis is strictly that—an analysis. Within the bounds of the overarching narrative and themes, the “good” choices seem to bring the character closer to the idealization of Mythal—a benevolent protector who inspires the best in people (like how Mythal inspired Elgar’nan to realize that he had gone too far when he punted the sun into the void). The “bad” choices seem to bring Rook closer to the reality of Mythal—a person who seeks retribution and protection at any cost (like severing the dreams of an entire species and effectively leaving every single one of them Tranquil or twisting a peaceful spirit of wisdom into a war general). The idealized version of Mythal kept the Evanuris in check even within the bounds of the idealized mythology the Dalish know; she brought out the best in them. The reality of Mythal is certainly complex, and we don’t have all the pieces, but given how horrible the Evanuris were…are we sure that Mythal was really keeping them in check? And when she tried—really tried—to check them, she was betrayed. The parallels here are not perfect, certainly. The Evanuris betrayed Mythal—the Veilguard never betrayed Rook. However, I believe that the members of the Veilguard each represents the idealized versions of the Evanuris and therefore the Veilguard is an inversion of the relationship between Solas and the Evanuris. Fen’Harel led a rebellion against the Evanuris, and the Evanuris killed Mythal, leaving Fen’Harel no other choice than to imprison them. The Veilguard (i.e., the “good” Evanuris) leads a rebellion against Solas (kind of), and when Solas betrays Rook, they all are left with no other recourse than to imprison him (with the methods of how depending on the player).

Regarding the possible Solas/Fen’Harel parallel: from what we know about Solas from DAI, he tends to mirror people (according to the devs)—show him understanding and an attempt to learn, and he will do the same. Show him arrogance and rudeness, and he will likewise show the same to you. While I do sort of believe the Mythal parallel is perhaps stronger for Rook, there’s no denying that there are Fen’Harel parallels too, although they could have been stronger. Rook leads a rebellion against Solas—they take heavy losses. They make hard decisions (Treviso vs. Minrathous). They fail. However, it might be more accurate to say that Rook is a FOIL to Solas rather than a direct parallel. Where Solas isolated himself, even when working with others (as evidenced by some of the codex entries in VG), Rook reaches out and is always talking to companions (presuming one doesn’t rush through the questline). Where Solas drowned in his own regrets and refused to face them, Rook met them head on and felt each loss. Where Solas destroyed the elven empire (primarily) to avenge Mythal (according to the characterization within VG), Rook has the option to instead forgive and attempt to understand Solas after he killed Varric (who, within this framework, could be considered as a Mythal parallel as well—someone who tried to hold Solas in check and was murdered with the lyrium dagger for it). Rook also has the option to deceive Solas, much like the Dread Wolf himself would have done. Further, Rook could be seen as fulfilling the role of a spirit of wisdom for the companions when it comes to advising them in their personal quests. Alternatively, Rook has the chance to fulfill the role of a demon of Pride when it comes to beating Solas at the end of the game.

i have an analysis i’m working on rn about veilguard members and the evanuris and every time i think too hard about it i vibrate out of my skin. it’ll probably be my third ever post on this account and it’ll be a fucking MASSIVE one. i am so normal about dragon age actually

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mayihavethisdanse · 4 years ago

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“What is this, the Dark Ages?”

Or, Arthurian themes and allusions in the Brotherhood of Steel mythos as seen in Fallout 4. (But that’s a lot of words.)

Yep. We're doing this.

First, some obligatory caveats: there is no single Arthurian canon, just 1500 years of assorted fanfic based on the whims of whoever was writing at the time. For this extremely highbrow Tumblr meta, I have ignored most of it and drawn on my favorites. Also Wikipedia.

Also, I am not an expert in Arthurian literature (or Fallout lore, come to that), and I preemptively beg the pardon of anyone who is.

Finally, in no way am I claiming that all these parallels and thematic echoes are deliberate or even significant. In fact, I'd break it down into:

Clearly deliberate allusions, whether in or out of universe;

Probably coincidence, but could be someone deliberately capitalizing on a coincidental similarity;

Almost certainly coincidence, but fun to speculate about; annnnd

Blatant Monty Python references. (Because of course there are.)

I'll start with the big one.

Arthur Maxson, boy king and unifier

(source)

So across all the retellings and variations of King Arthur’s life story, there are a few consistent elements, particularly in his early life and rise to power. Some of these threads are echoed in the Fallout universe, specifically (and unsurprisingly) in the person of Arthur Maxson.

Both the legendary King Arthur and Arthur Maxson were born with a claim to power lying in their ancestry, both were fostered away from their families, and both proved themselves in combat at a young age.

King Arthur united the warring kingdoms of Britain into a single entity, making them stronger against outsiders and receiving general admiration and acclaim. Arthur Maxson united the divided factions of the BoS after the events of Fallout 3 and is held in similarly high regard by his men.

The name Prydwen is a reference to the ship of the original King Arthur. Presumably, Arthur Maxson (or someone in the BoS who anticipated his promotion) christened the airship in a deliberate homage to the Arthurian myth.

King Arthur is associated with his legendary sword. I think it’s notable that Maxson’s legend is associated with a bladed weapon, too. ("He killed a DEATHCLAW with a COMBAT KNIFE!”)

Probably coincidence, but fun: the historical emperor Magnus Maximus, who pops up a lot in early Arthurian legend, was known in Welsh as... Macsen. (⌐■_■)

Round Table, but make it dieselpunk

(Continued under the cut.)

Moving away from obvious allusions and into some looser parallels:

Like the Round Table, the Brotherhood is an exclusive knightly order with its leader being the one able to open it up to his chosen few.

Like the Round Table, the BoS sees itself as defending human civilization against forces of chaos. (I’ll touch on their tech-hoarding tendencies when I get to the Grail stuff.) This idea of civilization in the face of chaos goes back to the BoS’s founding, even though the level of isolationism we see in most of the Fallout franchise is not exactly what founder Roger Maxson had in mind: “Notably, Maxson's ultimate intention was to establish the Brotherhood as an organization that works closely with people outside of the Brotherhood, as guardians of civilizations, not its gatekeepers.” (source) In a lot of ways, Arthur Maxson represents a return to his ancestor’s original ideals.

Renegade knights? Internal politics? Traitors within? We gotchu.

In both the medieval legends and in all chapters of the BoS we’ve seen, there’s a big focus on bloodlines (ew). Ironically, it’s probably Arthur Maxson’s unquestionable ancestry that allows him to be more progressive than either of his East Coast predecessors when it comes to boosting Brotherhood numbers by recruitment (even though you can still see a clear division between “born Brotherhood” and recruited soldiers, but that’s a topic for another day). Maxson sees himself as an Elder who "cares for the people"—however misguided and patronizing that attitude might be—and whatever else you might say about the guy, you can't say he doesn't believe he has a duty. Which brings us to…

Know Your Enemy: Danse as Gawain

Before I start this section, an acknowledgement of authorial bias:

Gawain, as portrayed in the Middle English poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is my very favorite of King Arthur’s knights. (Other stories aren't always as flattering, but like I said at the outset: I'm sticking to the ones I like.)

That poem is my very favorite piece of medieval Arthurian literature. In this section, I'll refer to the modern English translation by Simon Armitage.

...that’s it, I have no other biases to disclose.

What? 👀

(Art: Clive Hicks-Jenkins)

All right. So in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, you’ve got this himbo loyal knight of Arthur’s who finds himself caught up in... you know what, let me just paste in the Wikipedia summary. (The Toast, RIP, also did a pretty entertaining and more-or-less accurate recap.)

It describes how Sir Gawain, a knight of King Arthur's Round Table, accepts a challenge from a mysterious "Green Knight" who dares any knight to strike him with his axe if he will take a return blow in a year and a day. Gawain accepts and beheads him with his blow, at which the Green Knight stands up, picks up his head and reminds Gawain of the appointed time. In his struggles to keep his bargain, Gawain demonstrates chivalry and loyalty until his honour is called into question by a test involving the lord and the lady of the castle where he is a guest.

Don’t worry too much about the plot details, though; for this post, I’m more interested in the thematic parallels. The Green Knight story is full of contrasts: order vs. chaos, civilization vs. wilderness, mortal man vs. Other... but let’s start with Gawain himself.

Some stuff to know about Gawain:

He was "as good as the purest gold, devoid of vices but virtuous and loyal". Gawain took his principles more seriously even than the rest of Arthur’s knights, not out of pride but out of humility: "I would rather drop dead than default from duty," he says.

He’s faithful and honorable and never even tempted to betray an oath, even when offered every variety of seduction and riches, except for a single moment of weakness in a desperate desire not to be executed for random shit by powerful forces for reasons he doesn't understand.

Even though he doesn’t really understand why he needs to die, he sticks to his oath. Gawain's one weakness is a moment of desperate, private, human desire for survival. He'll submit to the headsman’s axe if he has to, but he'd still rather live.

Above all, Gawain is the ideal of a human man: he might be the bravest and loyal man there is, but he’s still fundamentally human.

You can probably see where I'm going with this.

A few more fun facts about Gawain that resonate with Paladin Danse’s story:

He’s got a bunch of really shitty brothers. (No comment.)

Gawain (SPOILERS!) doesn't actually end up beheaded, but he does willingly kneel for his execution and gets a cut on the throat as a reminder of his sin. And, uh, Danse can also get his throat cut! It doesn’t end as nicely but it’s, you know, a thing that can happen.

Gawain might be a really good guy, and he tries really hard to be one, but in the end he’s nothing more than that: there’s nothing supernatural about him, he has no special powers beyond his own principles and devotion. He’s just a dude doing his Best.

Wait, why not Danselot?

Oh, that guy? Here’s the thing.

Lancelot personifies the continental ideals of courtly love that became popular in the High Middle Ages. Central to his story is the prioritization of personal relationships and romantic feelings in a way that you don’t really see in Gawain's, at least in the Green Knight tale. (Later stories hook Gawain up with an extremely delightful lady, but even that is a different flavor of romance than Lancelot's and has more to do with Gawain honoring his word and his egalitarian treatment of women (hell yeah). In the poem, Gawain is impressed by Bertilak's wife but resists her temptation; in fact, the biggest risk is not that he'll yield to her advances but that he'll be discourteous to her, i.e., violate his principles and cause dishonor to his king and his host.)

Lancelot is driven by passions over principles in a way that Gawain never really is (at least in the stories I’m talking about; later writers have committed character assassination to various degrees). Yes, you could argue that both Gawain and Lancelot betray their oaths, but Lancelot’s betrayal is never, um, blind. He knows what he’s doing and makes a deliberate choice to prioritize his love for the queen over his love for the king. It doesn’t make him a bad guy—he too is an ideal knight with one fatal flaw—but his character isn’t as comparable to Paladin Danse.

Yeah, Gawain is (in most stories) a prince and a kinsman of Arthur’s, but he’s ultimately a native boy who doesn’t break the mold of a Knight of the Round Table. Likewise, Danse is portrayed as competent and valuable to the BoS, but not exceptional or breaking the mold of what a BoS soldier should be: he simply represents the ideal. Meanwhile, Lancelot is a foreign prince who was marked from childhood as special and fancy, and his storyline goes alllll over the place. (Much like this post.)

For example, Lancelot goes to absolutely absurd extremes to prove his devotion for no other reason than to prove it. (“I’ll do any useless humiliating thing you want. I’ll betray every oath except the one I made to you. That’s what love is!”) Gawain would never. Danse would never.

Ultimately, Gawain's tests are of his character and not of his love. And like Gawain, Danse’s devotion is to service and his principles, not to another person—even Arthur Maxson.

All that said, there are some similarities: both are beloved by Arthur, both are held up as the ideal of what a knight should be. And even if their fatal flaws are different, both make the point that no matter how good and brave and loyal they might be, no human being can be perfect.

(Except Galahad. Who is, as a result, very boring.)

I’ll conclude this section with a quote from someone else’s take on the Greek Knight poem:

I like Gawain. He’s not perfect, but he’s trying his best which is all any of us can do. He’s not like the other knights in the Arthurian legends who occasionally ‘accidentally’ kill women on their little adventures and then feel hard done by when they have to deal with the consequences of that. Gawain holds himself to a high standard – higher, it seems, than Arthur and his knights hold him to considering how hard they laugh when Gawain tells them how bad he feels about the whole thing.

I think Gawain is very relatable in this story. We all want to be better than we actually are.

And that, more than anything else, is Danse.

The Grail myth

What’s that? Lost relics of power? Better send some large armed men after ‘em!

The parallels to the BoS’s tech-hoarding ways are obvious enough that the games themselves lampshade them (albeit by way of Monty Python). But it also ties into the larger themes of “purity” versus “corruption” and the BoS’s self-image as a bastion between civilization and chaos. (See Maxson's line in response to the Sole Survivor’s quip about the Dark Ages: “Judging from the state of the world, it wouldn't be a stretch to say we're living in that era again.”)

But the ultimate futility of the Grail mission is also worthy of note. The BoS might want the power of prewar tech on their side, but they’re no more to be trusted with it than any other group of human beings. No matter how they try, the “corruption” of humanity can’t be overcome as long as they’re striving to harness power for their own ends. You can only achieve power by surrendering control of it.

The death of Arthur

The nature of gameplay being what it is, it's not guaranteed that the Arthur figure will be fatally betrayed, bringing Camelot down with him—but it's not unlikely, either.

Awkward.

Some final spitballing:

Outside the Brotherhood, there are some fun parallels of the Arthur myth with the rest of Fallout 4. Betrayal by one’s own son, for example.

The key difference between the BoS and the legendary Round Table: King Arthur’s knights, for all their flaws and human weaknesses, are usually presented as unambiguous Good Guys. The BoS is... a little more ambiguous...

...but damn if they don’t think they're the good guys.

A-ad victoriam, fellas!

#fallout #fallout 4 #brotherhood of steel #arthur maxson #paladin danse #sir gawain and the green knight #sir gawain #gawain #knights of the round table #king arthur #elder maxson #fallout 3 #fallout lore #maxson #roger maxson #look mom I did a meta

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ��servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

---------------------------

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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Exceeding expectations

Valentine’s Day (Masterlist)

Request: Anonymous: Hey this is for the Valentine’s Day promps! Tony, ⚡️, enemies to lovers, 4. & 11.

4. “I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up.”

11. “Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!”

Pairing: Student!Tony Stark x Fem!Student!Reader

Summary: All your life you have been focused on your studies, for you that was all that mattered, but during your third year of university things take a sharp turn and love appears in your life.

Warnings: College AU. SMUT ⚡️

Word count: 7254

A/N: This is very long! It has gotten out of hand. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

At the age of thirteen you had discovered that love, or rather what adults used to call love, because you barely knew what those four letters meant, doesn't always bring you happiness. Jason Filton had sent you a note in the middle of Biology class informing you that you were no longer dating and that his new girlfriend was Sarah Rickman. After reading it, you threw the paper over his head as hard as you could, making all your classmates laugh and you ended up in the headmaster's office. At that moment you decided that love was rubbish, as well as everything else that had to do with it, so you chose to dedicate your life to more important things, such as your studies, and that's how you got a place in one of the best universities in the country.

For the first two years of aeronautical engineering you abhorred any distraction that would make you lose track of your own path. No parties, no conversations of more than ten minutes with anyone that weren't helpful to your future, no going home for holidays, it was all a waste of time that tended to break up your daily routine. Your university lifestyle tended to be unconventional, and unconventional didn't tend to go unnoticed in those places, and it didn't help that you were a year ahead of everyone else and your grades were above average. It seemed that everything stood in your way, but you used to overcome obstacles with great ability, you didn't let anything get to you, especially coming from society.

In the third year things changed, you were offered the possibility of taking two parallel degrees, as many subjects were validated, there was no evidence that you accepted, so in your weekly planning began to appear subjects of mechanical engineering. At no point did it ever occur to you that this choice would bring with it some murky consequences that you did not have in mind. A smarty-pants is not always well accepted in a class when there is already a person who occupies that position, there he was, the cause of all your future ills during the university year ahead, Tony Stark.

It's not that you hadn't competed with people like this before, well, you'd never really come across someone like this before, he was worthy of analysis, one of a kind, any student of psychology or even anthropology would be willing to do a doctorate on him. Although he obviously wouldn't come out of that research alive.

A week after attending those classes, you discovered that he was the same age as you, so he was also advanced in Mechanical Engineering, but the most surprising thing was that he already had a PhD in Physics, which made you wonder what you were doing wrong. Even so, the most curious thing is that he hardly paid any attention in class, he spent the whole time chatting amicably with his colleagues in the back row, but every time he was asked he answered the professor's questions correctly and wittily. He was a scholar, and that got on your nerves, although it was easy for you to hide it.

You avoided getting in his way at all times, but it was very easy for him to do so whenever you were in class, and one point in your favour was that when classes were over you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, and you were lucky that your classmate hardly ever came around, so those 15 square metres were all for you. But even so, the biggest drawback of your third year was not the competition with Tony Stark, it was someone else, James Barton.

James was a boy who shared some Mechanical Engineering classes with you, he was a year older than you and it was more than evident that he was a real inconvenience, because from the first day you entered the Micro/Nano Engineering Laboratory and he sat next to you, you knew you were in serious trouble. You felt the same as when Jason Filton at the beginning of eighth grade invited you for an ice cream in the cafeteria, that's right, that was the closest thing to love you had ever felt, that's why you knew you were in serious trouble.

During the first few months there were no clear developments, mostly because you never noticed any interest on his part. In your case, you hid with all your might the excitement you felt every time Tuesday morning came and you had to share a lab with him, the last thing you wanted was to look like a desperate high school teenager every time you saw him. But by magic, or perhaps fate, things gave you an incentive for your relationship as classmates to evolve.

Apparently James had been down with the flu for a week, so he was unable to attend class that Tuesday, it was obvious to you from the first moment you saw his empty seat. Therefore, Mr. Gregory thought it appropriate, since you always sat next to him, that you could bring him the material he had offered during that class. You were grateful that he thought there was at least a friendship between the two of you, it was an incipient one for you. You were a little reluctant at first, mostly because you didn't think it was appropriate to introduce yourself to him in his dormitory when you had barely spoken a word to each other beyond a morning greeting and a goodbye when you left class, but you chose to accept it as a personal challenge.

It was not complex to find out which dorm you were staying in, nor to find out which room you were in, the complexity was in making proper social conversation, as your social skills were far from what any young person could wish for. Nor did the male gazes cast upon you as you entered the building and began to walk down those corridors to the third floor help, you didn't know if you were in a dorm, a circus or a petting zoo. It made you wonder how those people had managed to get a place at MIT.

You positioned yourself in front of the wooden door with a set of papers and notes from Mr. Gregory's class in your hands, replaying over and over in your mind how you could start an ordinary conversation, but before you could knock on the door someone behind you thought you needed help so with his knuckles he rapped on the wood.

"If you don't knock no one will open the door," said a boy flashing you a friendly smile, perhaps the first you had ever seen in that place, as he continued on his way.

"Come in!" exclaimed a voice behind that door, you knew at that moment it was James.

Taking a breath you slowly rested your hand on the doorknob and turned it slightly, leaving only a small gap to put your head through.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I don't mean to intrude. I'm just dropping off the notes and materials Mr. Gregory gave in class today. He thought they might come in handy for next week's class."

James was lying on the bed, you found that the atmosphere was a little heavy with sweat mixed with his particular scent with hints of cinnamon, but the moment he discovered who his visitor was he sat up and started to pick up some tissues that were scattered on the sheets.

"God... I'm sorry, this is a mess," he said, taking the wastepaper basket in his hands and stuffing everything he could find into it, his tone totally congested.

"No, don't worry about it," you added quickly, stepping into the room. "Don't mind me, I was just coming to bring you the notes and I was just leaving."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, collapsing back onto the bed from flu-like exhaustion.

"That's all right," you gave him a small smile and put the material you had brought on the desk nearest his bed. "I guess you'll understand everything, but if you don't understand anything or need anything at all you can tell me."

"Thank you very much," he said leaning back against the wall, "I appreciate it."

You nodded smiling at him, thankful that the situation hadn't been too complicated, at least so far, so you decided not to push your luck and head for the door.

"Wait," he exclaimed as best he could behind you, causing your footsteps to stop and you to turn back to him. "Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"

During those moments you were trying to process his request to buy you a drink the dormitory door opened with a thunderous bang against the wall, bringing you face to face with your beloved Mechanical Engineering partner.

"Oops, sorry, am I interrupting something?" he said curiously, contemplating you both gradually.

"Could you not give those bumps every time you come in?" complained James almost incomprehensibly due to congestion.

"Sure mate," having said that he gingerly closed up and walked over to his bed, picked up a book, lay down and pretended to browse through it.

"So?" James looked back up at you waiting for an answer.

It had all happened so fast that your mind had not yet come to terms with the situation, but all you had to do was say "sure", "yes, I'd love to" or "of course, that would be fine", but you only managed to nod with a small smile.

"That's a yes?" he asked trying to clarify your intentions.

"Sure," you managed to say between nods, which managed to extract a smile from your partner. "So... I'll see you next week in class. I hope you get better."

To your surprise you had overcome that personal challenge with great talent, you knew that if your sister were present she would award you the medal for bravery, not only for having talked to a boy, but for having managed to get a possible future date with great elegance, and without hardly expecting it. But what you didn't realise, or at least not until first thing on Wednesday morning, was that you were in for some curious comments from your opponent about the previous day's events.

"So you're going out with Barton," he said almost before he sat down behind you. "I thought your social life was limited to striking up a conversation with the lady at the post office one Sunday a month."

Over time you had learned that the best thing you could do was to ignore that annoying little voice that sat behind you every Wednesday and tried to interrupt you every time you were offering an explanation during class. It was the best way you had found to get through those first few months with him.

But it wasn't all that simple, especially when you and James started a friendship that developed into something a little more serious just before the Christmas holidays. Like any other relationship where two people are attracted to each other the search for intimacy is normal and ordinary, during the third year of university you were lucky that your roommate was practically a ghost and you found the best place to have your own intimacy, because obviously you didn't know why Tony Stark was always in his bedroom, and when he wasn't he used to appear at the most inopportune moments, and worst of all without knocking.

"Are you crazy?" you exclaimed, hiding under the covers. "Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Oh, come on! It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said throwing himself on his bed. "Don't worry about me, I don't care."

At those moments you didn't know whether to get up and cross his face or just not show up there anymore, because things didn't stop there, he used to drag out the subject at hand and make inappropriate comments to you in class, such as "I hope you used protection" or "you forgot your bra" or "if you need any advice you know you can ask me for it". It was quite frustrating, because there was little you could do about it, just ignore him or else he would come over the top.

Apart from that everything seemed to work perfectly with James, or at least that's what it seemed to you, the two months that you had been together things were coming together without forcing them, you met every now and then to go out to eat, you took advantage of the moments you were alone to study and sometimes things generated moments of intimacy, it was the closest thing you had had to a love relationship, although your experience was very basic in that matter in question. So basic that you barely understood a lot of things and you could be very naive about anything to do with social relationships.

Discussions started to become your daily routine, they all came hand in hand because of your clashing characters, he used to have a very evolved social life, three times a week, he even skipped some classes because of the hangover that the night before he had self-inflicted, although you accepted his lifestyle, you didn't share it at all and his constant initiatives to integrate you in his environment didn't usually turn out as he expected. So a constant back and forth ensued from then on, which brought out a character you didn't like.

You began to hear rumours, which you tried to avoid, so as not to get caught in the net. These rumours ranged from whether James had hooked up with Nancy Skelton the night before to whether he had taken her to his room. So every time you sought an explanation he seemed to find himself sufficiently unwilling to offer one. The same thing happened on Valentine's Day.

You had been ignoring the rumours that were torpedoing your ears for two weeks, James had sworn and swore to you that nothing that was going around the halls of the college was true, that he hadn't done anything with anyone at the frat party. You, like an innocent fool, accepted his words, letting yourself be carried away by those green eyes that knew how to make your legs tremble. So that meant that the Valentine's dinner was still on. It was the first time you had bought a dress for a special occasion on your own, you didn't choose to take risks, black was always welcome and straps too, although you really did take risks with the neckline, and with the reddish lipstick. In short, you wanted me to discover that you could also become Nancy Skelton for a night, but apparently I didn't feel like checking it out. You waited for twenty minutes in your room for him to come and get you, but you thought something must have happened, so you headed off to find out for yourself.

Again, as if you were in a circus attraction, and you were the main attraction, you rushed through the corridors of the male dorm with whistles, sexist comments and cheers behind you. It was Thursday night, which meant that the party had started early that evening and most of them had traded blood for alcohol. You knocked on the door, waited a few seconds but no one answered, knocked again, but the case was ignored so you tried to turn the doorknob, but to your surprise the room was locked.

"What the hell?" you asked yourself.

Totally confused you look at your wristwatch, expecting to have got the time wrong, but no, it was 8:35 p.m. just thirty-five minutes later than you had arranged. You stood there for a couple of minutes waiting for him to appear out of nowhere, but the most you could find was one of his mates running past you in his underwear.

"Hey! Do you know where James Barton is?" you exclaimed trying to find an answer.

"In the common room!" he shouted without turning to look at you.

Looking like a complete idiot for not having considered that fact you walked back through the hallway in embarrassment in the direction of the common room, from where laughter, shouting and anything else that involved a group of boys with beer bottles around them was emanating. When you appeared through the door frame there was little time for your presence to be noticed.

"What have we got here?!"

"Oh my god, is this my birthday present?"

"Shut your mouths you idiots!" James stood up from his seat and walked towards you, with a subtle wobble in his body and his eyes completely rolled back in his head. "Is it time already?"

"It's actually been forty minutes," your arms were still crossed preventing his body from approaching yours. You could smell the stench of beer all over him, even his shirt was stained with a few drops.

"All right, all right," he said abandoning the bottle on a bookshelf. "Let's go."

Unable to hold on, and under the watchful eyes and laughter of his companions he offered you his arm, but lost his balance and fell to the ground, right at your feet. You took a deep breath and began to let it out very slowly, but you barely flinched, you couldn't believe what was happening to you at that moment. James tried to get up as best he could and stood back up in front of you, pulling his shirt back on.

"Come on," he made a second attempt.

"No, no James," you said in the most serious tone you could rescue from your broken insides. "I'm not going anywhere with you. But you know what, I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up. So I'm going to take advantage of the reserve we have." You uncrossed your arms for the first time and pointed your finger at him. "Ah! And in case you haven't made it clear, it's over between us."

The cheers went up like you'd just scored a touchdown in the middle of the national finals, but you just kept your composure and got out of the place as quickly as possible. You were so pissed off about the situation, as well as yourself, that you felt the sting running through your veins. You asked yourself over and over again how you had been so stupid as to get into this situation, you, but you couldn't find a coherent answer. You assumed that smoke must be billowing from your head as you cut your way through the labyrinthine corridors to get out of the building as quickly as possible, but just around the corner the one person who could complicate things appeared.

"Hey!" he exclaimed behind you, picking up his pace and coming up beside you. "I was thinking, why go to dinner alone when you can have good company?"

You turned your head to the right, flashing him the most incoherently terrified look you could extract from yourself at the moment, but Tony didn't seem to care enough because even that didn't stop his grin from being wiped off his face.

"Are you kidding me?" your footsteps were rather light. "Oh, of course not! Do you really think I'll accept you coming to dinner with me?"

"Do you have someone better to go with?" his arrogance was pushing you over the edge.

"Of course! Me, alone," you said walking down the steps of the dorm and stepping outside.

"Really, by yourself on the most romantic night of the year, in a small Bistro in downtown Boston?" he said without breaking away from you. "That sounds really sad," he paused. "Do you have a car?"

"Welcome to the world, I don't need a man to go out to dinner whenever I feel like it and there are taxis," you walked as if you were going to miss the train of your life.

"Alright!" Tony definitely seemed to give up and fall in behind you, "See ya!"

You were so upset at the time that the only thing on your mind was to head for the campus taxi rank, and so you did. You were lucky that there were a couple of taxis waiting, so it didn't take you more than fifteen minutes to get to the door of the Bistro, located in the centre of Boston. The place was really charming to anyone's eyes, its round tables were perfectly placed to offer a cosy dinner to any of its diners. The candles offered that romantic air that anyone could want on that night of the year, and the aroma of traditional dishes was wafting from inside, whetting anyone's appetite.

You looked outside through the glass windows to see the couples who seemed to be enjoying a really lovely evening, it was at that moment that your spirited idea seemed to wane, for now it didn't seem to make much sense to go inside and dine completely alone under the watchful eyes of the waiters who wondered what had happened to put you in such a situation. The metre who stood at the door waiting to receive his customers watched you, for you were only a few feet away from him.

"Do you wish to wait inside, miss?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"No, I..." you shook your head as if to leave.

"I'm here baby," a hand took hold of your waist. "Sorry it took me so long, it's impossible to park in this area."

As you heard that voice and felt that hand on your waist you knew immediately who it was, caramel coloured eyes accompanied by a wide smile were looking at you right next to you, you were about to give him a push if it wasn't for the fact that that metre opened the access door to the place and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene in the middle of the street.

"Did you have a reservation?" asked the waiter, checking the list.

"Yes, under the name of James Barton," said Tony, barely letting you speak.

"By all means, follow me," he began walking among the diners arriving at a small round table just outside the window, where he didn't take a second to light the candle that adorned the table. "Will you have something to drink in the meantime?"

"Yes, what wine do you recommend?" his way of waving his hand embarrassed you, he seemed to want to pretend to be knowledgeable.

"Oh, we have a Château Montrose, which goes perfectly with the meat tastings," he informed her.

"Perfect," nodded Tony, opening the menu.

As quickly as the waiter left, your attitude changed, expressing all your feelings with your face.

"Are you crazy?" you whispered, leaning towards him so that no one else could hear you. "Do you have any idea what that wine might be worth? But more importantly, what the hell are you doing? What are you doing here? What is this?"

"Oh come on, you know if I hadn't come you'd be back in college right now, don't you?" he cocked his head to the side and smiled at you, "Besides, the wine and dinner is on me, just enjoy the night."

"Enjoy the night? With you? Really?" you frowned, it was unbelievable to you that this was happening, but at least he'd had the courtesy to ditch those rock band t-shirts he used to wear and that messy hair, he'd shown up in a white shirt and black peg trousers.

The wine soon arrived and you'd be lying if you said it didn't help the dinner go more smoothly, allowing you to chat like two normal people. You found it hard to let go of that stubborn attitude you have inside you, but when you managed to put it aside you came to discover that Tony could be a lot of fun, even if he didn't share your sense of humour. You spent two hours discovering similarities in each other and also many differences, but it was a fruitful conversation, for the candle that lit the centre of your table was gone. You surprised yourself by observing more than once the features of his face, his honey-coloured hazel eyes, his upturned nose, his full lips and the way he smiled that seemed to bring out your colours every time he did it. But you blamed it all on the bottle of wine you had finished between the two of you.

When they brought the bill he barely allowed you to look at it, as he deposited his american express and smiled proudly at you.

"How about now...?"

"Shall we go back to campus?" you cut him off by stepping outside with a smile you couldn't keep off your face and pink cheeks.

"Well, actually, I was thinking..."

"I'm exhausted," you cut him off again, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "Besides, we have a class first thing in the morning."

" Okay!" he exclaimed in a melodious tone shoving his hands into his pockets. "Then we'll go back to campus."

In three minutes you found yourself sitting inside a red Porsche, which was going at a speed well above what you were used to. From the speakers came the sound of the Australian rock band AC/DC, but without knowing why Tony stopped the music.

"What's wrong?" you asked looking at him quizzically.

"I thought you didn't like it," he shrugged. "You were very quiet."

"First of all, I was listening, I like it," you began, "and secondly, in case I didn't like it you don't have to indulge me, this isn't a date, or anything like that."

"All right," he gave a half-smile and turned the music back on. "So this isn't a date..."

You smiled quizzically at his last words, trying to assume that it had been the alcohol that had given you that little smile and not your subconscious that seemed rather pleased by the last two hours you had spent together. During the drive you couldn't help but laugh when you discovered his imitations of Angus Young, the lead guitarist of the band you were listening to. But the situation changed when the Porsche pulled up right in front of your dorm, but before you had even taken off your seatbelt your door was open and Tony's hand was waiting to help you out.

"Thank you..." you whispered a little reluctantly. "Oh, you don't need to come with me, I think it's rather late, so I'd better..."

" Okay," he nodded smiling, again that wry smile that you knew was going to cause you to either want to come along or not.

"Alright," you said giving up and walking towards the inside of the building. "Don't even think about making a sound."

"Please, I'm all grave," he said behind you as you walked up the stairs, but he didn't keep his word as a stumble caused the sound to bounce all over the stairwell.

"Tony..." you reproached him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he raised his hands in his defence.

Within a minute you had reached the door leading to your room and the awkward moment of saying goodbye was upon you, face to face.

"Okay, well... I guess thank you very much for... dinner and for walking me to the door," you nodded without knowing why in a slightly nervous tone.

"It's been my pleasure," he bowed, his voice sounding utterly confident, the opposite of yours.

"Great... so, I'll see you in class tomorrow," you rummaged through your bag to find your room key and when you had it in your hand and looked back up at him you discovered Tony's gesture biting his bottom lip, so your mouth let out, "or maybe..."

Why the hell had you blurted out those three words, 'Or maybe...' 'Or maybe what?' Your unconscious was working and coming alive in you, your inner self was saying that you didn't want to part with him so soon and that you couldn't wait for him to come into the room with you.

"Or maybe?" a half-smile came to life on his face, showing you part of his tongue running subtly across his upper lip that made your heart race. But finding that you didn't know what to say in that instant, he added, "Are you inviting me in?"

"I..." you looked a little hesitant, but found the courage to face the situation, "Only if... you feel like it."

There was a few moments of silence in which your wives seemed to be electrified.

"All right, but first I think you should know something," he added, breaking the moment of sexual tension that had built up. "The James rumours are true. I caught him and Nancy in our bedroom," he paused and tucked back a strand of hair that had come loose. "I should have told you before."

Why did you feel as if you knew deep down that this event was true? Maybe because it only took you three months of being with James to find out what he was really like, a total prick. But the funny thing is that when you took in those words, the sexual tension returned, making you forget everything he'd told you.

"Okay," you nodded with a blank stare, "So does that mean you don't want to come in?"

Again he made that arrogant smile present again that even as he brought his face close to yours to catch your lips did not disappear. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, crushing your body against the wooden door, preventing you from escaping from that place if you were planning to do so. It was really infuriating, to have his lips between yours and still feel the need to have him closer. You were so lost that the key slipped from your fingers, catching Tony's attention and he opted to pull away from you and bend down for it, you hated those seconds, but instantly you discovered his hands roaming the nakedness of your legs along with his lips rediscovering that new area.

"Come on Tony," you begged, resting your hand on the doorknob so as not to give in to his touch as it slowly crept up your thighs. "Open the door."

With a small nibble on the inside of your left thigh he pulled himself back up to your height to force your lips together as he tried his best to open the door as best he could in the dark. You felt the door offer you passage into a room dimly lit by the moonlight coming through the window. Tony closed the door behind you regardless of the noise he made in doing so.

" Damn it, Tony," you said, pulling away from him.

He took the opportunity to pull your dress up to your waist and wrap your legs around his waist to direct you towards your bed. The position is really intimate, but your head wasn't in the right place to dwell on it at the moment, there was practically nothing romantic about what was happening or what was going to happen in a few minutes. During the ride you opted to get rid of the black dress that seemed to be burning your skin by dropping it to the floor, revealing your naked body only covered by a pair of black panties.

"Shit. Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!" he exclaimed finding his gaze at the level of your breasts.

Tony's body collapsed on the mattress, unable to take his eyes off your body, he maintained an upright, seated position, straddling him. Your gazes connected, in your eyes there was nothing but tension and lust, the passion of two young university students who needed to let off steam as soon as possible. However, inside you both hid a sense of nervousness that you kept from coming out.

Although you'd had sex with James before, you weren't exactly an expert on the subject, but something inside you was working, making it seem like you had no problem with it. In Tony's case you had heard things, but you didn't know how much of it was true or not. Still, Tony's kisses trailing his mouth down your neck were methodical, the way he brushed his tongue, bit into your neck and finished by pressing a soft kiss seemed to transport you to paradise, just as it did him, as you could see it in the hardness forming between your folds. A moan escaped your lips causing your hips to move gently to feel more firmly what was hidden in his trousers.

"Oh, god, do that again," Tony uttered against your ear in a completely gnawed tone of voice.

As if it was a command you were incapable of refusing, you did it again. His hands gripped your thighs firmly and his lips lingered on your breasts for the first time, brushing his lower lip over your right nipple, letting his intense breathing fan it. Your back arched bringing your breasts closer against his mouth, likewise your fingers found themselves stirring his hair. Tony simply played with his tongue against you offering equal attention to both breasts, making sure it was pleasurable, and he assumed he was succeeding thanks to the sounds coming from inside you.

Your hips kept making circular motions pressing against him trying to relieve the need that had built up in your core. Tony seemed to feel the same need so he parted his lips from your breasts and made a sudden movement grabbing your waist and trying to flip you over on the bed, trying because in the process he caused your head to hit the bedside table next to the mattress.

"Shit!" he exclaimed with a surprised look on his face, but your reaction generating a giggle in you, calmed him down expressing a smile. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay," you say finally taking the position he wanted, lying down on the bed and finding Tony's body on top of yours.

You feel his lips moving over your skin again as he undoes his shirt, uncovering every part of his back with your fingertips. Your whole body was being a mess, the path of his tongue was heading south, his fingertips formed circles around your navel and his mouth had a clear direction, you felt it when his fingers brushed the top of your panties. All you could do was keep your eyes closed with your head on the pillow, bite your lower lip to stop the curses coming from inside you and press your legs against each other.

"Open your legs," he whispered against your skin and then placed a kiss on your lower belly, making all your nerves want to explode. "I'll be gentle, promise."

You feel those words crash against your skin, and as if they were a switch they are able to make your legs open subtly giving way to the fabric of your underwear sliding down your thighs. Tony decides to take his time until he manages to extract them through your feet as he doesn't take his eyes off your completely naked body exposed before him. He slid his fingers around the inside of your legs to again run his lips up and down them so that his hands were free to free himself from your trousers.

"Do you have...?" he asked moving his kisses up your thighs.

"What...?" the word almost came as a plea from your lips.

"Condoms," he said against your skin.

Something in your brain clicked, bringing you back to consciousness in those moments, you lifted your head off the pillow and looked directly into Tony's eyes that were practically over your core in those moments.

"Are you telling me you don't have any condoms?" you asked with a frown, a little gruff at the situation you were in.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on ending the night like this," he lifted his face with a smile from between your thighs, but as he watched your head fall frustratingly against the pillow he added, "Okay honey, don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

As quickly as he uttered those words he managed to get your lower limbs onto his shoulders, meeting again between your thighs. That was the first time you discovered what lips on your clitoris felt like. Your frustration was fully replaced by pleasure, a pleasure that made every part of your body tremble. You really didn't know how you could have missed this for so long. Your hands were fixed on either side of your body gripping the sheet tightly, but there came a point when you couldn't let him pull away from you, so you curled your fingers in his hair. Right now you had Tony Stark kissing and licking your most intimate part and all you could think about was that his movements wouldn't stop.

"Please... Don't stop," you urged between moans, feeling two fingers thrust inside you at your words.

You find yourself in complete disbelief, you're a mess, and you can't help but open your eyes and look at the one causing the disaster, who just like you was a complete mess against your intimacy. That action, along with the speed of his movements inside you and his moans against you, causes all your senses to connect and decide that the time has come to explode. You drop your head back down onto the pillow, arching your back in an attempt to establish a closer connection with him. You're exhaling, screaming his name between your moans without thinking about who might hear you. He continues to consume you, sucking you in as he brings you to full orgasm. Your limbs slowly manage to steady their movements, until the euphoria inside you ends with a soft moan.

Tony subtly withdraws his fingers from inside you as he leaves his wet kisses around your thighs, searching for your gaze amidst the mess of sheets that existed around you at that moment. He finds himself climbing up your body, kissing every part of it gently until he reaches your face where he catches your lower lip between his teeth.

"I told you, I'll take care of everything," he added with a half-smile. "And I think I've managed to exceed expectations."

"It's possible," you kissed him again finding your breathing much calmer. "That means it's my turn now."

With more skill than he did, you were able to get his body underneath yours in an instant, causing his tongue to come out and lick his upper lip. It was obvious that he was tremendously proud of the job he had just done, thanks to how well you had let him know with your facial and guttural expressions. But now it was your moment, discovering that your needs had not yet been fully satisfied and that you had a burning need inside you to feel him in you. Your kisses moved from his lips to his neck, taking on the taste of his perfume. You exerted just enough pressure with your teeth to profess from his throat his sweet gasps that were filling you with madness.

The path of your kisses was present on his chest, which rose and fell because of his accelerated breathing. He was soft, sweat was present on him from the previous exertion, but you hardly thought that fact mattered to you. Your tongue had reached his lower abdomen with great skill, the evidence of which was that Tony had chosen to lose eye contact with your actions and now looked a complete mess biting his knuckles. If it had been any other time you would have enjoyed the scene in front of your eyes causing him to beg, but he had been so good to you and you were so eager to kiss what was hidden by his briefs that you wasted little time in sliding the fabric down his thighs and releasing his erection.

You had been in that situation only once before in your life, so you opted for a marked subtlety in bringing your lips to his tip and licking it clean of his pre-cum. Luckily for you the noises coming from Tony were a map for your movements. you just start by testing the ground, tasting it, feeling it deep in your throat.

"Don't stop, whatever you do. I like that, a lot," his hand wrapped through the strands of your hair as his gaze focused on you.

Those words ignite your movements, you circle his shaft with one hand, accompanying the movements, you find that it intensifies his panting and generates a slight movement in his hips that causes him to thrust his erection deeper against your throat. You bring your free hand to his hips instilling a show of confidence and acceptance of his thrusts, which causes Tony to increase his speed.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going -," his frantic tone could barely finish the sentence.

You felt the hand disappear from your head allowing you to withdraw right then and there, but his desperation was also shared by you, and just as you had orgasmed against his lips as you couldn't hold him inside you wanted to feel him as much as possible. Throbbing moments later inside your throat, accompanied by curses accompanied by your name coming from inside Tony. His hand returned to its proper place, dropping subtly to your head, enticing you to follow his movements.

Your lewd movements stopped over time as you noticed his limbs returning to their normal function and his breathing resumed its normal rhythm. You withdrew, offering her a soft kiss on the tip, and connected your gaze with hers, which strangely seemed a little embarrassed.

"I hope the walls are thick," you commented with an arched eyebrow.

He merely took in your smiling face and intertwined his fingers with yours to bring you closer to his height. He placed your bodies sideways, intertwining your legs, and with his fingertips he wiped the droplets of saliva from around your lips.

"So... would you say I've exceeded expectations too?" you asked, caressing his bare arms.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly. "I need more than one round to find out."

His half-smile lifted again, in no doubt that that had been the best sexual experience he'd had to date, because not all rumours are true.

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#tony stark x reader #college au #college alternative universe #prompts #drabbles #smut #young tony stark #female reader #ocs #tony stark imagines #tony stark au #iron man x reader #imagines #ff #fanfic #fan fiction #masterlist #tony stark smut

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chouetteffraie · 5 years ago

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The Inherent Romanticism of Headpats - Why Ship Dazatsu

I was scrolling through the dark corners of bsd tumblr and came across a few “Why I Ship (blank)” posts and thought I’d like to try and articulate my unending love for dazatsu in a similar fashion! Please note that I am in no way trying to steal the spotlight from other ships or trying to claim that dazatsu is “better” - it’s just my favorite and I wanna talk about them! Also, I physically cannot talk about them without a shipper’s bias - I’ve had them in my heart since like late 2016. This is ingrained into my spirit.

So, without further ado, let’s talk about why I ship dazatsu (and why you should too). yes i’m kidding about that last part.

warning for manga spoilers and headers that would make amazing fic titles. tag me if you use one. manga pictures taken from dazaiscans and easygoingscans.

1. The Promise to be Good

hehehe let’s start with maybe the most obvious one that is, arguably, the most canon fact about these two. Just because I choose to view it as romantic doesn’t mean it IS - but it is certainly a beautiful aspect of their relationship and yes it makes me soft every time I think about it.

We all know Dazai’s past and what inspired him to make the switch from the Port Mafia to the side that saves people - Odasaku. No matter what you say, it’s obvious that Oda and Dazai have a very close, meaningful relationship - and arguably, Odasaku had the biggest impact (and the most importance?) in Dazai’s life. When Oda told Dazai to leave the Port Mafia, to go make something beautiful with his life - he did. And it’s those words alone that keep him motivated to stay in his job and help protect the city - because he loves it, maybe, but because someone he loves urged him to.

Dazai, despite what his strange poetry may make you believe, is only human. As much as those words mean to him, he gets discouraged.

Along comes Atsushi, the starving tiger boy by the river. Atsushi is an orphan parallels to oda saving the orphans already, and he was in dire need of someone to save him. So, Dazai did. Whether it was because of the tiger or Odasaku’s last words, Dazai saved Atsushi and gave him life. He provided food, shelter, a means to provide for himself - even companionship. Everything Atsushi has, it started with Dazai picking him up off the riverbed and lugging him along. What’s more, Dazai didn’t just turn him over to somebody else - he presented a case to Fukuzawa to keep him and serves as his mentor. Further along in the canon story, he provides Atsushi with the emotional guidance that he needs (Portrait of a Father, anyone? Let’s cry over that for a second.) He doesn’t just give Atsushi a moment’s care - he helps him build himself up, he supports him, and together, they protect the people of Yokohama.

Atsushi is living, breathing proof that Dazai is living up to his promise to be a good man. Even better, he seems to be perfectly happy with confirming that yes, Dazai is good, whenever Dazai needs it.

In this way, they complete each other. They provide a source of comfort that nobody else has been able to. Atsushi is Dazai’s proof that he is doing the one thing he wants to do, more than anything - be what Odasaku wanted.

2. You Saved Me, We Save Each Other

Keeping that in mind, Atsushi is sort of Dazai’s reward for being good. Now, I’m not implying Dazai is owed Atsushi at all - to an extent, you could argue Atsushi is maybe even too good for Dazai. But Dazai is trying to be a good man, and Atsushi is the one who tells him and reaffirms his efforts and gives him that praise, that recognition, that reward for being good. Dazai’s main inspiration to stay on the light(er) side is Odasaku - but that doesn’t mean that Atsushi can’t become another huge driving force that makes Dazai want to stay on that path. Oda motivates him, gives him the reason to start. Atsushi can be the prize that makes trying worth it when he tends to forget.

Atsushi saves Dazai. He saves him from his self-doubt, and from the world that gives him every reason to believe he has failed in his promise. If anything, that promise might be Dazai’s strongest lifeline. By reinforcing the line, Atsushi is saving Dazai.

And of course, Dazai saves Atsushi. He did literally save him by the river, and he helps teach Atsushi how to Not Die by virtue of being his mentor, but it’s more than that. Dazai has been the one to save Atsushi from his own mind time and time again. He provides a reason for Atsushi to believe he has (or is) earned/earning the right to live. Atsushi isn’t entirely over his desire to prove himself worthy - but Dazai is always the one to tell him that he has succeeded in his goal. Dazai is the one to say “You’ve proven yourself. You deserve the life you’re living.”

3. You Learn Something New Every Day

As Atsushi’s mentor, Dazai naturally teaches Atsushi things. But beyond the simple strategic battlefield lessons, Dazai has been there for Atsushi multiple times to help him address and begin to overcome his trauma. Sure, some efforts are worse than the others (dazatsu stans just wipe our memories of the train station scene and that’s valid and sexy of us i think.) But in times when Atsushi is clearly distressed, Dazai has been there to help him through it. He’s helped Atsushi sort through his grief, and he’s helped Atsushi start to see that his feelings are valid and that he’s allowed to live a fulfilling life.

Atsushi isn’t the only one learning, though! That’s one of the best parts of the ship - Atsushi teaches Dazai, too. Dazai has spent a long time feeling as though nobody will understand him intimately, or as deeply as Odasaku did. But Atsushi is getting there. He’s one of the closest to it, I think. From saying things like Dazai is a good man, to picking up on Dazai’s feelings at Oda’s grave in Dead Apple, and even the end scene when Dazai asked Atsushi directly if he thought he was a good person and Atsushi said without hesitation “Sure, why?” Atsushi teaches Dazai that he is human. He teaches Dazai that he is capable of feeling and forming close, intimate connections. They help the other learn about the areas they need to, and in both cases, they’re becoming patient teachers and prized pupils.

4. I’ll Listen When Nobody Else Will

Everybody knows how Dazai is often brushed off when talking about dying. People have brought up that the agency just has faith in his resilience, but that doesn’t meant that they aren’t acting without care towards Dazai. Atsushi does this too - in the very first episode, Dazai’s attempt at suicide is just taken with him being exasperated at his antics before pushing him down. But here’s the thing - it’s generally agreed upon that Atsushi is the one who is sent out to find Dazai. Atsushi is the one who knows where to find him. Arguably, Atsushi is the one that will listen to Dazai. He’s becoming the one who can not only pick apart Dazai’s mannerisms and slightest tells - he isn’t proficient, but he’s working on it - but he’s the one that treats them with care.

I’ve spent a lot of time noting similarities between the understanding Atsushi has of Dazai to the understanding Dazai’s truest friend had to him. Here’s one thing that separates Oda from Atsushi, and for me, it’s one of the major reasons why I personally ship one more than the other: Odasaku didn’t push Dazai the way Atsushi does. Both Oda and Atsushi have a way of laying out a field for Dazai to talk and bounce his thoughts off of, no matter how cryptically they come out. But Atsushi asks questions, he prods at the darkest corners of Dazai and he allows Dazai to question himself so he can continue to grow. Where Oda gave Dazai a place to feel comfortable in where he was, Atsushi gives Dazai a space to feel comfortable as he grows, which is what he needs in order to continue being a good man.

And please note, this isn’t me saying dazatsu or Atsushi is better than odazai or Odasaku. What I mean to say is this is where the difference lies, and Atsushi gives Dazai what he needs now - something he might not have needed without Odasaku’s urging to leave.

5. Guiding Light

When two characters are each other’s north star, where is there not romance? Dazai is very much Atsushi’s main source of guidance, a side effect of being his mentor for sure - but it’s more than just asking questions. Their relationship runs deep into Atsushi’s train of thought, to the point where Atsushi hallucinates Dazai’s presence when he feels uncertain. Any time Atsushi needs guidance or reassurance, he looks to Dazai.

This is more shipper goggle-y, but I like to believe Atsushi does the same for Dazai. I’ve said over and over again that above all else, Atsushi is Dazai’s proof that he is being good. I also like to think that Atsushi, in a way, is a ray of light for Dazai to follow. He’s selfless (although for some reasons that deserve to be readjusted), he’s kind, and he loves life - all life. He’s a sunbeam in action that provides a perfect example for what Dazai could be and is trying to be - and if this light is happy with keeping Dazai close, maybe there’s hope for him after all.

6. What Makes Life Worth Living

Atsushi and Dazai are opposites in once major aspect: Atsushi has a sort of reverence for life, whereas Dazai craves to escape it. These are two major points of their characters - but here’s the kicker. Dazai wants to get close to human emotion. He wants to understand what makes life worth living. Atsushi is quite possibly the strongest candidate to show him what he can do and how loving life can help. I’m not saying that Atsushi is Dazais’ fix-it-all elixir, but he has a good chance to gently prod at Dazai and get him thinking.

Atsushi can show Dazai what makes life worth living. And that’s something that I think would do Dazai a world of good.

7. Can I Change for the Better?

ATSUSHI! INSISTS! DAZAI! IS! GOOD! I will not ever diminish this point because it is so important! Dazai seems to have it in his head that his blood is mafia black, that he can play the charade of a good man but will never be more than an actor playing a part. Atsushi, though - Atsushi is constantly telling him that he is good. Atsushi, who probably couldn’t keep up a lie for that long because the poor boy has zero tact. Dazai even asks Atsushi frequently if he’s a good person, and Atsushi always says yes. Atsushi gives Dazai what he needs to hear.

Atsushi, however, has his own issues. He has his own trauma to tackle, and his own bad habits to reform to become a better person. Atsushi isn't’ a bad person, but he also isn’t the best version of himself. Dazai can help him become that. Dazai can give him the guidance he needs, as he did with sorting through his grief surrounding the headmaster. Dazai can help Atsushi start the battle against his past, and he has been there with him every step of the way, whether in body or spirit. They help each other be better.

8. I Trust You With What I Love Most

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again - the toast they added to the end of season 3 is one of the most tender moments Dazai has ever had with anybody. One thing Dazai never does is let people in on his past - not past the necessary details, anyway, and especially not the intimate moments he holds in his heart. But sharing that toast with Atsushi - inviting him in to the toast he shared with Oda and Ango, “To the stray dogs,” - it’s one of his most vulnerable times on screen. I don’t care what you say. Dazai deliberately letting Atsushi in, giving him this tiny piece of his past he’s had tucked away in a safe place - that was him offering up a piece of his heart. I’m soft just thinking about it again.

Other than that, Dazai has an enormous faith in Atsushi. He’s built entire plans trusting that Atsushi will do his job perfectly the way it needs to be done. Hell, towards the end of the Guild arc, it was his faith in Atsushi to bring the doll down to him that convinced Twain they were beat. Not to mention, Dazai has trusted Atsushi enough to form a new partnership without him in order to protect the city - and if that’s not one of the most blatant displays of trust and faith you’ve seen, I don’t know what is.

9. There’s a Softness Within Me I Didn’t Know I Had

Another thing that’s good for Dazai - Atsushi is comfortable. Dazai can let his guard down, just a tiny bit, around Atsushi, There was the graveyard scene in Dead Apple, or the toast scene at the end of season 3 - those are moments where Atsushi has given himself a moment to relax and show Atsushi how proud he is. This kind of emotion, this vulnerability that says ‘I’ve been hoping you’d pull through and look at how amazing you’ve become’ - there’s a softness that holds that Dazai doesn’t hold for anybody else. It’s a gentleness or pride, of trust, of somebody becoming more than you could ever imagine and coming back to you, even thanking you - it’s a sensation nobody else has given Dazai, because nobody else has been a protege as trustworthy and gentle as Atsushi.

(and, believe me, there’s a hundred other examples of the softness in the anime, manga, official art, and so much more. here’s a thread that you can still add to if you want)

Atsushi is also soft with Dazai. He wants to make him proud, sure, but there isn’t any fear once their job is done. Atsushi doesn’t have to fear horrible repercussions if he makes one misstep - Dazai allows him to learn, to grow, and to feel however he seems fit (or, it’s a skill he’s improving at as the series goes on.)

They give each other a safety to feel vulnerable. They are comfortable to each other. And, of course, they have a special softness for the other that they do not hold for anybody else.

10. My Mistakes are the Cracks You Have a Knack for Fixing

Again, Atsushi is always there to reassure Dazai that he can be a good man. One part of this is that he insist that Dazai’s past doesn’t have to affect his future. He’s one of the only people who tells Dazai that he doesn’t hold him accountable for what he’s done before - he’s Dazai-san now, and that’s what matters to Atsushi. Atsushi gives Dazai the most space to fix these mistakes, to move past them, and to learn from them, not holding them against him at all.

In the same way Atsushi is Dazai’s proof that he’s being a good man, he is also Dazai’s proof that he can fix the mistakes he made. (Of course, I’m not excusing the way he strings anybody along - but the first step to fixing a mistake is admitting you have made one and working on yourself, and that’s what Atsushi allows him to do.)

In conclusion, I think Dazatsu is so soft and amazing because it’s about the healing and acceptance. BSD is all about gray morality, and dazatsu is a soft ship that can take each other’s bad and accept them. It’s not only about seeing the darkest side of somebody - it’s about accepting those flaws but also giving them space to grow. They grow and they learn and they heal together. They ensure that the other never has to go through a drastic change alone. In a way, they can be home for the other, a refuge from the shitty cards life has dealt them and a steady lifeline to reach for a better tomorrow. That’s why I love dazatsu - because I can’t see another situation with nearly as much love and trust as they have. They are tender, they can be vulnerable, and they can heal.

Like the beautiful sunset hours the met in, they celebrated in, they console each other in, they allow the other to turn the page on their past and start anew, with a clean canvas for a dazzling display that they can make together.

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shoezuki · 4 years ago

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Tommy's prison/revival arc isnt well written actually

Anyways ive been wanting to talk on it a while for a bit here but havent had the Time or like. The thought to. But im gonna go off now.

First off im gonna say im ASSUMING this stream and plot of tommy being in the prison with dream is written entirely by tommy and dream. Wilbur May be involved in the latest stream but im not sure.

Bringing tommy back to life after only three days of him being dead did practically nothing to progress plot, the characters, or audience's understanding. In fact i feel that it damaged Other characters' potential and plot and already established plotlines.

The 'development' aspect

A really, really easy way to see if anything has changed or developed through an arc or plotline is to straightup just compare the 'beginning' to the 'end' in terms of the barebones situation. So;

Beginning: tommy is trapped in an isolated prison cell with dream, his own abuser who has hurt him in the past, for an unknown amount of time. He's terrified of dream and being stuck there with him.

End: tommy is trapped in an isolated prison cell with dream after being killed then revived by him, his own abuser whos hurt him in the past, for an unknown amount of time. Hes terrified of dream and being stuck there with him.

Okay. This is simplified obvious. But the point stands. ALTHOUGH the troupe of 'going back to the beginning' is common in the heroes journey its. It doesnt work here. Has tommy learned anything? Has he changed as a character? Is the severity of their situation any different? Have we, as the audience, learned anything new?

Im going to expand on that last point because i think it has the strongest potential argument. Technically for progression in literature and development of plot/characters, things can Change without them being Aware as characters. It can change just by the audience's perception changing or being challenge.

Slight example: i've been reading a webcomic called Your Throne. Its a fantasy/political drama about a noble lady who entered a competition with another noble lady to become the empress. The main lady lost despite her being a better fit, and the comic starts with the main lady trying to assassinate the empress. Its assumed and stated by the main lady that she 'ruined her life' and so thats all the readers know. However, later in the novel we see flashbacks to the competition itself and find that the two ladies were extremely close friends, neither wanting anything bad for the other, but it was the emperor himself who manipulated both of them for his own agenda. Those flashbacks gave us an entirely different idea of who the real antagonist is and completely changed the two main ladies' relationship. THAT is how the audience's understanding of the plot and novel can be used to change the entire story. We dont get such here though

Some things that were brought to light during tommy being dead/revived:

Dream is capable of reviving people infinitely

This was already implicated and assumed. The book dream has being a means of reviving people has been around Technically since schlatt's death. This just 'confirmed' what was known

Time works differently/feels longer in the afterlife

This doesnt really impact much beyond emotions and implications. If we had more insight into what the 'afterlife' is like beyond nothingness perhaps so. But really it just makes it so wilbur being dead for what feels like 9 years and tommy having been dead for 2 months appeal to emotions.

Wilbur is evil

This one fuckin sucks i cant lie HSKSHSISSGEGDV. Like i was gon go on bout it and i will but it jus sucks. We have nothing to go on besides tommy's word, no examlles of what Horrible things wilbur said could make tommy assume this, etcetc. Ill most likely make a seperate post on how this feels like we're just going to get 'wilbur is a horrible villain' type with him. But still. I feel wilbur Not Being Good isnt a new development.

Dream is going to revive wilbur

This doesnt feel new either, part because phil had wanted to revive wilbur before (ill get to that more later) and that tommy had kept dream alive/initially imprisoned him with the idea of him reviving wilbur.

Dream believes wilbur will break him out of prison

Okau this makes no sense to me actually. I cwnt understand How exactly wilbur would be able to do this? Or why dream believes he even Could? Mans been dead for like 9 years and all we Know of the afterlife is that its black... nothingness. How would 9 years of that make wilbur capable of busting the prison open?

So. Yeah. All in all this plotline hasnt done anything new, developed things, or altered people's perceptions. We just ended up back at square one. Back to tommy being traumatized, dream being 'evil' and horrible and doing villain monologues, and them being stuck together.

Other characters and plotlines

Im pretty damn sure tommy's revival fucked up a LOT of other characters' plotlines and potential development. Honestly i feel this has a lot to do with the writers not communicating with other ccs well enough. But Ill talk about specific characters from least to most fucked over in my opinion:

Sam

He's the best off. He hqd been there during tommy's death, had been close to tommy, had majorly blamed himself and his own mistakes for tommy's death. His grief and self hatred was actually really heartbreaking and well done. The attached character of Sam Nook being unaware of tommy's death and simply waiting for tommy to return was a really good parallel to sam's own grief and anger. like it really snapped sam the guy who cares for tommy and wants to do Right by him back together with him as the Warden of the prison. Mixed personal life with 'just business'.

I feel it wouldve been nice to have him like. Have more time to grieve properly and come to terms eith tommy's death and his own involvement/influence over the events. Him finding tommy alive again Could be a means of him like. Facing his own grief head on if done well.

Ranboo

Mostly in the context of him and sam's argument do i feel it got screwed over. The weight of them yelling at each other and trying to find who to blame and the implications that Maybe ranboo was the one who caused the security breach that closed down the prison on tommy just.... doesnt hit so hard anymore. Because how can there be blame and arguments and a 'who done it' mystery when tommy popped up all fine again?

Puffy

I dony know much of her involvement or how she found out tommy died (besides metagaming shhhhh) but i saw her monologuing of how they 'failed' tommy and like. Her whole 'he was so young we the Adults failed him' spiel is like........... inconsequential? Now??? Like no dont worry he died but hes alright now.

Philza

BET YOU DIDNY EXPECT TO SEE THIS FUCKER!!!!!! But actually though i want to talk bout how this ties into phil. A LOT. for Zalbr ❤. But also because i see ppl tying phil to tommy's death n like nah shutup u doin it wrong. Ill go off more in a Wilbur Post. But essentially: i dont like that dream is now going to revive wilbur. I feel they arent going to tie philza into this Despite phil having originally been trying to revive his son and studying on it and Attempting and Failing. But now suddenly dream can just. Say some magic words and Poof wilbur lives? So we're just going to Kill philza's revival attempts plotline and leave that hanging? This made his efforts seem pointless and Wack like oh why didnt you just Say The Magic Words phil????

Niki

I feel really bad for niki. She hasnt been able to do a lore stream during tommy's 'death' (she tweeted she wanted to but her computer wasnt working) and considering her entire character.... that shit is important. We seen it with Jack Manifold how tommy's death impacted Him considering he literally wanted tommy dead. And since niki is in a similar boat to jack of trying to kill tommy and it being her Only goal...... thats extremely important.

BUT. i feel there wasnt any communication. Did she or anyone even know tommy would be revived? Did no one consider they could At Least let her do a single stream on it? Like jack manifold????

We couldve gotten a Really good niki lore stream. I genuinely was so excited for it and i dont regularly watch her. But we seen it with jack manifold which is why i dont feel he got screwed because mans genuinely did So Good he could pop off with anything n i think it works in His favour. But now........ for niki. Canonically she never even knew tommy was Dead. So its like nothing even happened for her. Is she just supposed to continue on trying to kill tommy with no progression?

What i think would work

This is more me being like 'hey @ the dsmp writers let me in' type speculation sbosegussgs. But i was thinkin on a Really easy way to 'fix' this without rewriting lore and the streams.

Dream should kill tommy again now that he's been revived and Leave Him Dead.

More development for the characters who are affected by his death Especially niki. More time for grief and self reflection and development

A chance for the audience to figure out what the 'afterlife' really is.

Dream is supposed to be smart and a master manipulator or something right? Why doesnt he use being able to revive tommy as a bargaining chip with sam for his own freedom?

The audience would now Know dream's intentions with tommy better, that this death isnt 'final', but we could still see other characters' grief and reactions and coping without it feeling cheap. Ive seen some 'but people dont know tommy is alive so hes still dead in their mind' but that sucks imo.

We'd know more on dream's ability to revive people and that he can just Do It on a whim (which i think sucks but hey im trying) but no one else would know this canonically

Okay. Im done. If you read this. Thankyou. I love you. Hmu.

#mcyt #dream smp #dream smp critical #tommyinnit #dream #im puttin this in main tags took me too fuckin long to write for me Not to #death mention #ask to tag

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murasaki-murasame · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Higurashi Gou Ep22

All of this ‘the culprit’s motives are super shallow and they’re just unhealthily obsessive’ discourse is giving me war flashbacks to . . . . basically every other part of the entire When They Cry franchise, lol.

Thoughts under the cut. [Plus spoilers for Umineko]

I feel like at the end of the day we’re all just gonna have to agree to disagree about how we feel about how Ryukishi is handling Satoko as the culprit here, since I don’t really think any amount of social media posts detailing our interpretations of her character are gonna change anyone’s minds, lol. But I’m still gonna give my thoughts on her anyway because it’s fun, even if I’m basically just preaching to the choir.

To be honest, this feels pretty much in line with how Ryukishi already wrote characters like Takano and Beatrice, in terms of them having unhealthy obsessions that lead them to mass-murder. The amount of violence Satoko has caused is arguably worse than either of them, but they’re all pretty awful if you think about the reality of what they all did as villains.

Sorta like with how a lot of the old-school Umineko discourse went, I think people are too focused on the whole idea of Satoko hating studying, and ignoring everything else about her character and her circumstances. Although even then I feel like people are being kinda unfair toward Satoko about how strongly she feels about academics, but maybe I’m just biased because of my own history with schooling and the intense levels of anxiety and self-hatred that can go along with it.

Plus the fact that Satoko already has a long history of sever abandonment issues, and has basically always had HS that amplified her feelings of paranoia and persecution. It’s pretty obvious at this point that she never really got ‘cured’ in the first place, though it’s less important to think about HS as an in-universe fictional disease with it’s own rules, and more important to just think about it as a representation of real-life mental illnesses which aren’t bound by the rules of made-up brain-worm parasites and aliens or whatever.

Also, the Satoko that started all this looping in the first place was one who never dealt with Teppei returning to the village, and thus never went through her whole character arc related to that. The series is kinda ambiguous about how it handles the idea of people’s character development carrying over between loops, but it explains a lot about Satoko’s attitude here if you go with the idea that she never really had to overcome any of her trauma or coping mechanisms in the “good ending timeline”, and this is the consequence of that taken to it’s logical extreme. The idea of her view of the world being skewed by the fact that she only remembers the “good ending timeline” is also kinda lamp-shaded by the part where she hears about Rika’s looping and is like “oh yeah, that’s the month where we had that cool action movie stand-off with the Mountain Dogs :)”. By the time she really got to understand exactly what was going on beyond the specific timeline she had experienced, she was already way over the edge.

I get why people don’t like the idea of Gou ‘tainting’ the VN’s happy ending, but I honestly like the idea that it’s examining the consequences of how Matsuribayashi was such an overly-specific timeline where basically nothing bad happened and everyone just banded together to beat Takano. It kinda glossed over a lot of the personal problems that the main cast had in the rest of the series, and this really goes to show the effects of some of that stuff not getting properly addressed. It also reminds me that Minagoroshi is a timeline that even in the VN, Rika completely lost her memories of, so I can see how even post-Matsuribayashi she might have never let Satoko know about the details of that one timeline where she overcome her abuse.

I also feel like it only really got to this point because of Featherine’s meddling. In the original Matsuribayashi timeline, Satoko just started drifting away from Rika and ended up wandering into the Saiguden and meeting Featherine before anything actually serious happened in that timeline. I think that if she had just been left to her own devices and that timeline had just kept going, Satoko probably would have either found a way to reconnect with Rika, or they would have just slowly drifted apart for good. But then Satoko got given the power to time travel, and only started going off the deep end after going through another five years of identical suffering.

And on that whole note, it reminds me of how in Umineko, Lambda had a whole conversation about the idea of an abused person becoming an abuser themself if they’re given the power to lash out. Which is basically what’s happening here. Satoko is being given the tools to completely detach herself from reality and try as many times as she likes to get what she wants.

Which also reminds me that this episode in particular REALLY lays the Umineko parallels on thick, lol. Particularly the whole ‘Satoko is turning into Lambda’ thing, which feels just about 100% confirmed now. They straight up have Featherine bring up the exact same ‘monkeys using a typewriter’ analogy to explain Rika’s situation that Lambda uses in Umineko to explain Bern’s situation.

I know a lot of people don’t like the increasingly blatant Umineko tie-ins, and that a lot of people still think it might just be misdirection, but considering how much stuff in Gou has been surprisingly straightforward and predictable, I think it’s pretty much exactly what it seems to be.

Though to be more specific, this is probably more about the start of Lambda and Bern’s relationship, and their appearances in Umineko, rather than the very first origins of them as individuals, if that makes sense. Obviously the concept of Bernkastel as an identity has been around since Higurashi itself, and we’ve known for a long time that Lambda was the one who originally gave Takano her blessing of certainty, but we’ve never known the full details of how those two started their relationship, and Featherine’s whole series of name-drops in the last episode makes it seem like Lambda as a meta individual more or less already exists, with Satoko being an iteration of her. So I think they both technically already exist, but this is how the two of them come into contact and start their whole unhealthily obsessive relationship.

I guess it’s still possible that, even if she’s already existed for a long time as a meta individual, she hasn’t actually come up with the name ‘Lambdadelta’ for herself yet, and this might be where she does so. Even with the list of names Featherine referenced, she didn’t technically bring up Lambda’s name directly. So in that sense this might be ‘Lambda’s’ origin story, even if she already exists.

Considering how basically the entire story at this point seems to be acting in service of setting up the whole LambdaBern relationship dynamic no matter what, I’m becoming increasingly convinced that this will end with Satoko and Rika fully embracing their codependency and mutually ascending to the meta plane so they can stay together once and for all. There might still be human versions of them that stay behind in the real world and continue living normal lives, though.

At the very least, it feels like that’s the logical outcome of the whole Chekov’s Sword Fragment plot device that’s been hanging in the background for ages now. I think it’ll just be the in-universe explanation they use to show the mechanics of how exactly that process works. It’ll probably be used to ‘sever’ Satoko and Rika’s meta consciousnesses from their physical bodies and allow them to basically become witches.

Mainly I just can’t really see this having a ‘happy ending’ at this point, aside from the whole idea that maybe the severing process leaves behind ‘normal’ versions of the two of them who stay in Hinamizawa and go back to their normal lives. I dunno if that’d make people happy, but it’d at least be a way for Ryukishi to have his cake and eat it too, lol.

I just don’t think that there’s any real chance of this ending with them just talking to each other and agreeing to put an end to all this, though. For one thing that’d just feel kinda anticlimactic and honestly make Gou’s story feel even MORE pointless, if it just ends with literally the exact same ending as the VN with nothing really being changed. But I also feel like Featherine wouldn’t be willing to just let Satoko ‘give up’ without having one of them definitively win their current game. In general I just feel like Ryukishi should just commit to the story he’s setting up at this point, instead of just backing out at the last minute and circling everything back to the same ending we already had like nothing in Gou ever happened. If we’re gonna have this whole new story to begin with, it should at least have some lasting consequences.

Anyway, I think in the next episode we’re finally going to loop back to the Damashi arcs and see how they played out. At this point I don’t care too much about getting answers to the ground-level mysteries of those arcs, and I doubt the story will spend much time on that, but I’m curious to see how it progresses Satoko’s whole development through these loops, since I think she goes through some changes with her motives and methods over the course of them.

Specifically I think that the actual experience of being physically present in her own set of loops and causing so much pain and suffering started to get to her, and she might have almost given up in her own way during Tataridamashi and wanted to just stay in that arc, but things went south anyway. Maybe, if that’s what happened, Featherine basically let her know that she won’t let her give up, and will force her to keep looping until one of them ‘wins’ no matter what. Either way, I think that arc was a turning point for her. Like how she asked Featherine to arrange things so that Satoko can make sure that she and Rika’s loops are synced up, she probably asked Featherine after that arc to change the rules again so that Rika will start remembering the details of her deaths. At this point it’s pretty obvious that the Hanyuu fragment Rika was talking to earlier in Gou was more or less just Featherine putting on an act and manipulating her, so the scene of Hanyuu giving her the power to remember her deaths was probably just Featherine telling her about the rule change.

And going by how the Nekodamashi arc went immediately afterward, I think that rule change was related to Satoko becoming increasingly desperate to put an end to the loops as soon as possible. And considering how she was willing to spend so much time reviewing Rika’s hundred years of looping just to prepare for this, it’d make sense to me if she becomes desperate because she basically gives up, but realizes that she isn’t actually allowed to give up, so she has to try and make Rika give in as fast as possible. Either way it’s pretty obvious that Satoko’s methods start becoming more violent in that arc, and she basically tries to brute-force Rika into submission, leading up to the loop where she just spawn-camps her and straight up starts screaming at her to just stay in the village while tearing out her guts. It’s still possible that her attitude in that loop was just one big act, but I think that was the result of her being genuinely desperate to just have Rika give up once and for all, and her starting to crack under the pressure of doing all of these things with her own hands across so many loops.

So now we’ll just have to see how the confrontation between them at the end of Nekodamashi plays out once we get back to it. In the long run I just think it’ll lead to the ending I talked about before, with them using the sword on each other. The exact nuances of how that sorta ending might play out are up in the air, though.

Either way, I think there’s probably enough time to wrap up all that in two more episodes, but there’s still reason to believe that there might be some kind of sequel in the works. I don’t really want to bet on it, though, so I’m just gonna assume that there’s two episodes left and base my theories on that. In which case I think the next episode will go over the Damashi arcs and end with Rika and Satoko’s confrontation at the end of Nekodamashi, and then the final episode will wrap everything up. Considering that they both more or less know exactly what’s going on with each other by that point, there isn’t really that much that needs to be wrapped up. I think that will be the final loop we get, so it’ll all just come down to how their confrontation plays out, and what decision they come to about how to handle each other.

I honestly don’t really know how I think a full sequel would go, if it’s at least one cour long. Assuming that it’s not just a new Umineko anime that more or less continues Rika and Satoko’s arc via Lambda and Bern, but is a straight up ‘Higurashi Gou Season 2′. It just feels like there isn’t really that much that needs to be done to wrap things up, now that everything’s being laid out in the open, and Rika and Satoko are both aware of each other’s looping. They might switch it up so that they both end up teaming up to take down Featherine, but I kinda doubt that’ll happen.

I’m still hoping this is leading into some kind of new Umineko anime though, lol. That feels like it’d be the main reason for putting so much effort into this whole elaborate LambdaBern origin story we’re getting here.

I’ve heard rumors that there’s been listings for a 25th episode of Gou, so it’s possible that rather than another full season, there’s just one extra episode at the end. I’m not exactly sure what the point of doing one extra unannounced episode at the end would be, though. It might end up being a bridge between Gou and a new Umineko anime.

At the very least, if it’s just ‘Satokowashi Part 8′, it makes me wonder why they haven’t announced it yet, and why they didn’t just split that arc into two BD volumes with four episodes each, instead of having it be one big volume with seven episodes, and one random episode at the end for some reason. But if it’s more of an epilogue or a bridge of sorts between Gou and something else, with Gou’s story concluding with episode 24, then I guess it’d make some sense to do it that way.

We also know there’s gonna be a panel for Gou at a convention around when ep24 comes out, so if anything gets announced it’ll probably happen there.

Anyway, this whole episode can be summed up as “Satoko does a gay little psychological torture that pisses Rika off”, in the most morbidly entertaining way possible, lmao.

#murasaki reblogs #higurashi #higurashi gou

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years ago

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Window Pain

It was late. Well passed the time you should’ve gone to bed. Your parents had said good night hours ago. It’s not that you hadn’t tried going to sleep, but there was a lot running through your mind. You were heading off to college in the next few days and memories of this summer were keeping you awake. The most cliched, amazing summer of your life.

Every moment that wasn’t spent saving money for college was spent with friends doing things they do in the movies. BBQ’s, bonfires, beach trips, all of it. Unfortunately, some of your friends had already had to move on to the next chapter in their lives, Taehyung being the next to go.

He was due to leave first thing in the morning, you’d already said your goodbyes earlier that day. It didn’t feel like enough. He had been your best friend for most of high school, glued together. You’d taken all the same electives, a lot of the same extra curriculars, even the same part time jobs. Now he might as well be moving a million miles away. It was going to be beyond weird to have to branch out and make new friends, he was always better at it than you were.

After trying and failing to fall asleep for another twenty minutes, you hear a soft tapping on your window. Attributing it to a bird or a branch, you roll to face away and pull a pillow over your ears. When the noise doesn’t stop, you start to get a little concerned. You contemplate fetching your dad from the other room to investigate, but soon realise how silly you will seem if you wake him just to shoo a harmless animal.

Taking a deep breath you wrap your duvet around your shoulders and shuffle towards you window. Tentatively you pull back the curtains, shocked to find someone else staring back. The sudden scare made you trip on the corner or your blanket landing you in a heap on the floor, staring up at a laughing Taehyung. Recovering quickly, you unlatch the window, and he pushes passed you inside.

“Are you insane?!” Your voice hushed to make sure your parents stay asleep.

“No.”

“You’re an actual idiot, could you not have text me? I thought I was going to die.”

“Do murderers usually knock?” he says the question with such a straight face anyone else might’ve thought he was serious.

“What do you want Tae?” you ask, moving back to your bed and curling into your blanket.

“I couldn’t leave tomorrow without seeing you again Y/N.” he sits cautiously on the edge of the mattress. “Not after four years of this will they/won’t they feeling.” Too overtired to take in the full weight of his words, you just stare back clueless.

“Tae being your best friend, I can usually follow any train of thought you are on, but this time you’ve really lost me.” Your brows knit together in confusion as you watch him try to think of a way to better way to voice his problem. It’s so endearing to watch him think. His lips go pouty, and you can see every cog turning in his brain. He meets your eyes, and you can see the exact moment he figures out what he wants to say.

“It’s like that.” He is just pointing at you now, leaving you even more in the dark than before. You relinquish the warmth of your covers and shuffle to sit next to him.

“Tae, I don’t get…”

“You can’t not get it! You keep saying stuff like ‘You’re my best friend.’ or when people see us together you say, ‘He is just a friend’!”

“Did you climb in through my window just to yell about us being friends?” genuinely concerned for his mental stability now, you raise you hand to play with his hair like you always have done to calm him down.

“No, I just…. You just… you keep saying we are friends but then you look at me like that.” This time instead of just gesturing at your face, he places his hand on your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes properly.

“Look at you like what?” it’s barely above a whisper. You know what he is talking about. Of course you do. It has been blatantly obvious to everyone in your grade that you have been in love with Taehyung from the moment you met. You just never thought he had noticed.

“Look at me like… like you might feel exactly the same way I do.” His eyes are so full of hope. It would be hard to break eye contact even if he weren’t holding you there.

“I’m scared Tae.”

“Don’t think about it, just kiss me.” He presses his lips against yours. Its everything you ever thought it could be. Explosive fireworks and soft contentment all rolled into one. The kind of kiss that would make a girl’s foot *pop* if they were stood. The kind of kiss that shattered friendships. You back out of the kiss when the realisation hits. There’s no way to go back from here.

“I can’t lose you because of this.” It’s a genuine fear. The main one that’s held you back all this time. Why you never told him when you met, when you went on the school trip to Paris in junior year, earlier today when all you wanted to do was scream for him not to leave you. It took all you had to supress these emotions. If you were to go any further than this there would be no way to shut them away again. It’s either him forever, or never.

“You won’t lose me; you can’t lose me. And I can’t go to college without telling the girl I love that I love her.” The anxious twist in the bottom of your stomach explodes into butterflies. Every word you’d ever fantasized him saying to you was coming directly from him. Unless you weren’t having as much trouble sleeping as you thought. Before you get a chance to pinch yourself and wake up, he is kissing you again. Pushing you back onto the mattress and entwining your hands above your head. You’re not sure you could protest if you wanted to. He is far stronger, and your vocal cords have long since left the building. Luckily, you are exactly where you want to be. Content with anywhere as long as its in his arms.

His mouth moves from yours and trails along your jaw line, little whimpers falling from your lips in response. Something this simple should not be this sexy, and yet….

Each warm press of his lips against your skin sets you on fire. You long to touch him, run your fingers through his hair, drag your nails along his arms, anything, but he keeps your hands out of his way for now. It’s no secret that Taehyung has more experience than you. There had been the odd boy in your attempts to keep your feelings at bay, none of them ever made it passed second base though. Taehyung, on the other hand, had his fair share of cheerleaders and music girls hanging around him. its not something you guys had ever talked about in too much detail, but you were certain he had lost his virginity a long time ago. Like you said, Taehyung made friends very easily.

He finally releases your hands when he gets to the collar of your pj’s. you use your new-found freedom to bury into his thick curls, tugging lightly as he pushes your top upwards. You let go just long enough for him to take the shirt over your head. You don’t see where he throws it, too preoccupied with the fact his face was once again parallel with yours. Using the fabric of his shirt you pull his lips back to yours, using the momentum to flip yourself on top. He hits the bed with a small oof, caught off guard by your sudden assertiveness. You tear yourself away from him to take in the new view; his dumb boxy smile shining up at you.

His hands trail up your bare sides, cupping your breasts as he reaches them. His thumbs play with your nipples. Unconsciously, you grind down onto his hips. You feel his cock stir against your bum and can’t help but giggle at the sensation. You wiggle your hips again in hopes of receiving the same reaction. This time you are rewarded by a small escaping his lips. His hands leave their resting place on your chest and tangle into the mess that is your hair. He tugs you back down to meet him, shoving his face into your neck so he can bite on the sensitive skin there, marking you as his. With each rock of your hips, you feel him start to rock back. The friction added to the slight pain in your neck was amazing. You reach a hand down to play with the fly on his jeans. Before you get a chance to slide the zip down and explore further, he stops you.

“Y/N? have you done this before?” he brushes the hair back out of your face, the softest expression on his face, completely juxtaposed to the position you are in.

“No.” you admit sheepishly, suddenly feeling very insecure.

“Me either.” His admission surprises you, and apparently, it’s obvious as he laughs. “I could never get over the thought that it should be you. All of my first should have been you, but at least we still have this.” You nod and move to continue from where you left off, but he stops you again. “but not now.” You can’t stop the noise of protest as it escapes your throat making him laugh again.

“But you’re leaving tomorrow, and I don’t want to go to college without showing the boy I love that I love him.” you echo his words from earlier, hoping to gain brownie points at the same time as expressing how you feel for him. you’ve never been good at talking properly about serious feelings.

“I’m not going anywhere yet, I told my parents I needed a few more days here, I leave the same day you do. I want to take you out, on proper date before we go any further than this.”

“Fine but you are going to pay for the blue balls at a later date.” You kiss him once more before clambering off of his lap and settling into his side. He pulls the duvet over the two of you, shielding your topless form from the world and you find yourself drifting straight off in to the best sleep you’ve ever had.

A/N: sorry for the blueballs this was getting a little long

Feb request prompts - still open

Masterlist

#bts fic #bts smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #v smut #v x reader #taehyung reader #bts fluff #kpop fic #kpop smut #feb

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mymadmedleyw · 3 years ago

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Fic Writer Review

I was tagged by @dp-marvel94 (I am just saying this is my very first occassion to by tagged in a thing like that, so filling this made my day really, thank you!)

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

22 – wow, that sounds many…

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

206.997, and more than the half belongs under one idea – that’s creepy…

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh, it’s many… once, I am into something, I have to write in that – surprisingly I am addicted to DP for nearly a year, and nothing else.

(But little bit of history, from the newest to the oldest: Danny Phantom, The Irregulars (that was really a short one), Guardians of Childhood/Rise of the Guardians (my very first finished multi-chaptered one was in that), Dark, Charmed (the old one, not the new series), Gravity Falls, Venom, Doctor Who, a crossover within Tangled: The Series and Milo Murphy’s Law, Death Note/Death Note: Another Note; and I had some ideas about a Rick and Morty and Gravity Falls crossover, and it seems I never uploaded here my concept about a not crossover Tangled: The Series idea, and either an independent one in Rick and Morty, hm… shame. Most of those are not finished. Okay, like 99% of it…)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Core (Danny Phantom), stand-alone, ~3k

What The Past Holds (Danny Phantom), wip, ~91k

Pitch’s Secret (Guardians of Childhood/Rise of the Guardians), finished, ~14k

We are not alone (Venom), really short one, ~1k

Phantom (Danny Phantom), stand-alone, ~2k

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for?

Definitely it’s WTPH. It’s my current work. The idea about it came in December, and since that, I am working on that constantly. At first, I had ideas for eight chapters, and nothing else. Now, it grew into this monstrosity: a side-line (Bonds Over Time), and a collection that contains the deleted scenes or ideas that appeared in my mind and could fit into the story (Bits Of The Past), and also an entirely finished concept for Vlad’s past (Certain Moment Of Time), that could be connected to it too.

I also put many headcanons in that, and ticks of characters, and parallels, and layers that I just love: like Vlad having a sister and some details about his family background, Dan having Vlad’s memories too, how the explosion in the Nasty Burger happened and how Dan turned out like that… some precious things, really, but I won’t elaborate much, in case of anyone wants to give a read to it. Overall, I tried to make the TUE-mess into a somewhat more reasonable logical mess – if I managed to do that at all. I don’t know I’m just like a mother with a new-born with it: look, it’s my child! I made it! I developed it! here, hold it! and love it too, as much as I do! (Sorry, I don’t know how that metaphor came…)

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Even if it’s a kudo, or a keysmash as a comment, I write back. I mean, if someone writes – literally anything – and spends time with it, I write them back too. (And my very bad habit, that sometimes, if the comment hits an interesting thought, I tend to explain the background behind that more, and accidentally spilling some things I shouldn’t yet... In many cases, it’s like a brainstorming, and then I use that idea. I mean as, for example many of @dp-marvel94’s comments on ff, made me to realise some things, and how then I fixed those forgotten parts made my story along with it much better – once, I will list them, and you’ll be surprised how long is that list, and how obvious things I forgot about entirely…)

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

Okay, I don’t have many finished story – shame on me. So, I’ll count the shorts. I think it’s then Phantom. It rolls around the idea what if in Forever Phantom, Danny can’t change back to Phantom, and his parents blame Phantom for the disappearance of Danny, and they start chasing madly the ghosts, making them leave the human realm once and for all – which means, Danny has to go with them. It’s really a short fic, but I very like this idea, and it was my very first in this fandom. (I was watching DP that time, I mean, getting familiar with it, but this idea got stuck in my head as I watched that episode, so that was my introduction here. Also, I watched my very first DP episode that time, which means, less then a year ago, so, I am that newbie here…) I am not spilling the end of the story, but it doesn’t have a very happy end I could say.

8. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Uh, yes? I have a crossover within Tangled: The Series and Milo Murphy’s Law. It’s unfinished, but that time I thought Milo and Varian have the same vibe, including clumsiness. It was only a short idea that time, but it’s definitely worth once to continue or finish somehow. I have a crossover within Rick and Morty, and Gravity Falls. That is standing within my very big idea, but it’s halfway written on my original language and English and that’s like after how a certain trilogy end, but it has some mentioning of ideas I never finished, so yeah… it’s not even published anywhere. Maybe, once, I’ll decide what language I prefer for that, and translate the other part and then, hardly, but I’ll finish it some day... – or, never, it actually would be a very big bite if I try to imagine it.

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t remember to that. I mean, my main story (WTPH) kind of not everyone’s preference, ’cause of Dan, so that’s already divides the readers and I haven’t got all in all many comments yet on my stories (kudos are appreciated too, I am shy too to leave comments on fics, so don’t worry, I get it), so I think I haven’t got any. But I'd be curious to experience if someone reads one of my stories and leaves behind a comment that then criticizing it. I mean, I’d be open to learn what part is not fitting, or just too much. (I am surprised that no one ever mentioned my ’weird’ sentences. I mean for me those make sense, but those make sense for a native English person too? I’m always worried about that…)

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Uh, yeah, I did. Not very proud of it, though I don’t have a heart to orphan that work. I mean, it belongs to me too. Sometimes I wonder to delete some of my works, but then I realise, no, that’s me, I won’t pretend where I came from, and shove into the dustbin my mad thoughts... All in all, my stories now, for a while, are much more family-friendly – if, anything within DP could be really counted as ‘family-friendly’…

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, I was very proud of my story back then, called Metamorphosis (Death Note), and I had a crazy idea and tried to translate it. So now, the first chapter is out there both in English and both in my native language, but I got stuck at the second chapter. I couldn’t translate wisely and logically the title of it to give out the many meaning it has in English. And I once tried to translate California (Gravity Falls) to English, but that would be a hard work, so I left it behind – maybe once…

Over that I sometimes has a crazy idea to translate back and forth my stories, no, beyond that, I haven’t had a fic translated from anyone else. And I think I am the only masochist that it ever crosses my mind, I guess…

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, not really. I’d be curious to once do that – maybe, but I’m not sure...

(To tell the truth, I’d be worried about that. I’d be glad to do that once, but I am anxious if I could understand my co-writer, or not. I mean, do you have any idea that I have to give five reads to any longer comments to understand it? I understand those (and I really love getting those!), but I have to give many reads to make sure I understand those well, and then, making sure, I answer back right, and my sentences make sense. My fics have ’fancy’ words, and I love working in English, but sometimes it’s a curse it’s not my native one. So then, I’m constantly worried about interactions, if I receive well something, and if my sentences are understandable for others or not. So, in short, you can see my struggle here… same reason I don’t do Invisobang, but I am considering it...)

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I’m not very much a ship-type. But I count Danny and Sam, as a fix point. (Danny and Val was nice and I’d have been very glad to see them in more episodes, but let’s face it, that wouldn’t work, because both of them are too stubborn to choose their other life and if once, they would face with each other, knowing everything about the other, they’d remain allies or at most very good friends.) If, the question is, what are the ships in my head (but not necessarily just ‘romantic’) that I prefer to read, well, it’s Dan and Valerie. I love their dynamics, especially in Deliverance. I don’t know why I just love reading it.

For other reasons I ship Dani and Valerie. Though I can’t write romance and stuff like that, but in one of my planned ideas they are dating - sort-of...

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

Okay, there are many. Surely, it’s my Gravity Falls story, called California, but that’s a huge one, and the first one in a trilogy (plus some additional side-lines), and mainly in my head for years, so yeah… I think I won’t ever reasonably finish that as it should be finished. A Tale of Fords (Gravity Falls) could be count as one too. Oh, and Envision and ties (Doctor Who). Sad to say, but yeah, I am always saying, “maybe once”, but I am not sure when…

15. What are your writing strengths?

Okay, this is a funny thing, but I’ve realised I can’t deal with many characters at the same time. So, I think my strength are dialogues and interactions within two people. And I get into their thoughts, so I guess if I have to word it somehow: it’s character-studies then.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Can’t handle more than two people. No, seriously, somehow it always turns out, the third is unconscious, sleeping, leaves the room, and so on. I’ve just recognised it recently, and it was a hilarious recognition…

I am also bad at actions, like very very bad, I don’t even try that, because my brain just simple can’t come up with fight-scenes at all. I think I only can write character-studies, and nothing else.

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

Oh, man… does it count I am not a native English-user? So, technically I ‘always’ write dialogues in another language? But jokes aside, sometimes, I have ideas that the people use another language, and I am like “are you aware, you can’t even write English slang?”, so then, I gave up. Right now, though, I am planning to add ASL in one of my future ideas. I am wrecking my mind, how to do that nicely – but that’s only a forming plan, and dated for next year, currently, I am only collecting ideas for that.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Does it count my very first fic was a fanfiction of one of my friend’s fanfiction in high school? She wrote a really good story – not shared anywhere, we were just giving each other the hand-written exercise book (oh, the old days…). If I remember well, it was a crossover within Supernatural and Queen of the Damned (the movie, not the book). I had no idea about Supernatural, but the story was good, but I was not satisfied with the end, and in secret I wrote another end for it, to myself. I’m not sure where is that anymore, but I clearly remember that was my very first written stuff, and that’s how my origin story began and how is I am here now.

(Oh, and once, I wrote a H2O fanfiction short story to my sister as a name-day present, in which she was a mermaid, discovering her powers during a holiday at a beach (we were at that time in Croatia in a family holiday, so the timing was fitting), and that was one of my very first fandoms to write in it too… God, I have no idea why I wrote it down, it just crossed my mind, and I remember I thought it was cute, I think she was eleven or twelve that time, so I am not sure she appreciated as much as I found it fun to write that…)

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

This is mean… anyway, currently it’s WTPH, for obvious reasons. But I am very proud how the Angst Week turned out (my work for that is called Certain Moment of Time). First of all, I doubted I would be able to write for every day, since I planned to do the whole DannyMay, but things turned out differently and I am still sad, I haven’t done many. But I did not just managed to write for all days, but all could be counted under one idea, and also each of the chapters could be read independently at the same time. It includes a little bit of background story about Vlad, about a rewritten time, his struggles at the hospital, things around Danny’s birth, how Danny managed to survive the Portal incident, how Vlad was informed about the Ghost Boy, and that actually Danny’s separation was just a ‘plan B’ that Vlad tried to avoid… it’s complicated to describe the many things in that, but when I feel WTPH an unescapable mess, and I am frustrated by the lack of proper words to finish the coming chapters, CMOT is my absolute favourite. And I love the whole idea about it. No, I’ll be honest, that’s my beloved so far (just because it’s finished). But I like so much too my idea about Dan and Dani in Bonds Over Time, how they try to live together a normal life… okay, let’s admit it, this question is mean, I seriously can’t tell, and I am thinking right now only my current ones…

20. What fic are you most proud of?

Okay, this is mean too. I am proud of my old works as much that I always go back to them when I am in a nostalgic mode. (I haven’t read any of my old ones in ages, because I try to avoid distractions, and knowing myself, I’d start thinking about the continuation and never finishing my current works at all...)

I am proud of Pitch’s Secret, because that was my very first multi-chaptered one idea that I actually managed to finish. That in fact, gave me the courage to start working on a multi-chaptered DP one. (My original plan was to be brave and aim doing eight chapters, to top the five, and I would have been very proud of myself, but instead now it’s way longer than that original idea, and I seriously don’t know when it will end – twenty chapters maybe?)

I think, if I don’t include the previous question. (It’s the same, isn’t it?) I am very proud of the first chapter in my Doctor Who fic. That doesn’t tell anything about the plot or about anything, that just gives a very good atmospheric background. Every time I read that, it gives me shivers.

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okay, I don’t know who to tag, anyone who feels like it, serve yourself, I am curious... :)

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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the best laid plans

day 1 for @wayhavensummer because this is the only prompt I'll have time to do this week!

T Rating (for one brief mention of sex and one brief reference to emotional abuse) Felix x Detective Esme Kingston, 2300 words

The migraine cuts her to her core, and Esme can’t even manage the usual dose of guilt and hesitance she’d feel about canceling plans with Tina. They were supposed to go away this weekend, and Esme hasn’t been on a vacation since uni, but right now she couldn’t even make her way out of her flat, never mind into a car for a seven hour drive down the coast.

She feels like vomiting, the pain is so intense, as if she’d been concussed. Migraines have been a constant for her since puberty; she has a vivid memory of her first one, when she was thirteen, and the long wait in the nurse’s office at the private school her mother paid so much money for. The same mother who eventually sent someone else to pick her up, ninety minutes after the first phone call.

Esme doesn’t even remember who it was; some Agency intern? A vampire? A demon? Whoever it was, they brought her home, gave her some painkillers, and told her to sleep it off. She woke up hours later, in the middle of the night, to a still empty house. Rebecca had come home briefly to leave a note for her about some leftovers in the fridge and another one excusing her from school the next day if need be, and then gone straight back to work.

Maybe Esme should have been outraged or hurt by this, but she doesn’t recall feeling much of anything at the time beyond hunger, when the pain had finally receded enough to think straight. She ate the leftovers cold in their sterile, silent kitchen, and put herself back to bed.

The migraines had intensified through high school, to the point where her mother considered putting her on permanent medication, before receding just before she went away to university. After that they were far more infrequent, which was both a blessing and a curse- it was easy to forget what the pain felt like, and to feel like it was weak, lazy of her to let it get the best of her.

Bobby certainly didn’t help matters; the first one Esme had during their relationship came around shortly after they’d had sex for the first few times, and Bobby quickly became convinced this was her version of ‘not tonight, dear, I have a headache-’. That she was, for some ludicrous reason, exaggerating her migraines.

If she didn’t want to have sex with him, she’d never had much of an issue saying as much, bluntly, clinically. Another thing he despaired of- her lack of social graces, her insistence on saying exactly what she meant, in her usual ‘ice queen’ manner. Now he had reason to call her frigid in more ways than one.

Esme still isn’t sure how things between them ever lasted as long as seven torturous months. She assumes they both had a private masochistic streak- why else would two people who made one another so blatantly unhappy stay together?

Bobby isn’t here now, of course, to whinge and moan about her ignoring him, but there’s still a little voice in her head telling her to get up and stop acting like a baby when the evening rolls around. The pain has greatly lessened, thankfully, and she’s hungry, which is usually a good sign, but she’s also exhausted and cranky and generally miserable, feeling as though an entire day was wasted, one she could have spent with her best friend, on her way to a vacation.

Now, again, she is alone in a dark room. She slowly rolls over onto her side, bracing for a wave of pain or nausea, then pushes herself up onto her elbows and gropes at her night table for her phone. She has several missed calls and texts. Two from Tina, one from her mother, and one from Felix, which is the most recent, about thirty minutes ago.

Felix H: omw over to drop stuff off. 30 min???

She checks the time, then jumps, almost bashing her head into the headboard, when she hears a quiet knock at her door. For a moment Esme considers lying back down and not answering it; Felix can be persistent but he would never try to break her door down, especially when he knows she’s ill.

Then she clambers out of bed, some instinct driving her, a desperate kind of loneliness- for an instant tears spring to her eyes, as if she were a child again, terrified of being left alone, that she will just miss him, that she will pull open the door and he will already be gone-

“Ez?”

He’s right there when she yanks open the door, the chain still in place. Esme undoes it and pulls the door open all the way. Felix is staring at her, a small bag of groceries in hand. Vampires have far better temperature regulation than humans but it’s obvious he is feeling the heat; for once he’s not wearing a beanie or any kind of hat or cap at all.

He’s gotten his hair braided recently; Esme looks at him for a moment, staggered by the fact, as always, that even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of her narrow hallway. Felix’s dark skin has a sheen all its own, magnified by his golden eyes.

He prods her shoulder gently with the pad of his thumb. “If you faint on me, I’m gonna drop your gifts.”

“My gifts?” Esme shakes her head, leading the way back into her darkened flat. It’s much more cluttered than usual; she never finished packing for the trip she was supposed to take today.

Felix does not reach for a light switch; he has perfect vision in the dark, and light from the parking lot is spilling through her blinds. Instead he sets the bag on her counter and sorts through it as enthusiastically as Santa Claus on Christmas, or a child sorting through their Halloween candy.

“Min tea,” he says, “cold packs, squash, sweet potatoes, brown rice, dried cranberries…”

“Did you just look up ‘what to eat and drink for a migraine’?” Esme manages to ask, bemused.

He looks up, a sheepish smile quirking at his soft lips. “If I say yes…”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “And.. thank you. Very much. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t have to supply my ailing girlfriend with nutritious food and drink?” he waves the bottle of mint teat in her face vigorously.

“Ailing? I’m not eighty five years old, Felix.”

“That’s right, I’m the old man here,’ he cackles, then amends, “Or, will be. Technically we’re not that far apart in age but eventually when you start decaying-,”

“Decaying?” As usual, his word choice both horrifies and amuses her.

Felix has even less of a filter than her, but with the opposite effect. She comes across as cold and controlling. He comes across as… well, ‘space cadet’ has been used a few times, but Esme likens it to a time traveler. Only, not from the past, and not quite from the future. A parallel visitor. Something out of the Twilight Zone, only… warm and colorful and eager to please. That’s Felix.

He shrugs. “Succumbing to the elements?”

“I’m not a castle,” she mutters, but pours herself a cup of cold mint tea. Will it be as good as if she’d brewed it herself here at home, no, but at the moment she doesn’t care.

He puts the rest away in her small fridge while she drinks, leaving out the cranberries, then circles warily, as if approaching a wild animal, when she finishes off her cup. “Can I-,” his fingers ghost along the back of her neck. The hairs there raise and she shivers violently, but not in fear or pain.

“Yes,” she murmurs, then leans back into his embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

They scuttle over to the sofa like that, and ease down together. Felix is not terribly tall, and she is average height, so there’s scarcely a few inches between them. Esme has always liked that. All the others she’s been with had towered over her, and it made her feel spoilt and delicate in an undesirable, bratty kind of way, as if she were childish, some little princess to be coddled and indulged. Or maybe that’s just her projecting onto everything else that makes up a relationship besides height differences.

For now, she is content to lie back so her head rests against Felix’s, cheek to cheek. His is silken smooth; she knows he is fastidious about shaving, the same as her.

“You’re feeling better, though?” he murmurs, and snakes a hand under her pyjama top as if to check. Splayed warm against her belly, it tickles for an instant and she smiles.

“Yes. It’s mostly passed. I’m just tired. And annoyed. Tina was really looking forward to this trip. She’ll still have fun by herself, but it was supposed to be the two of us, and I’m always canceling plans.”

“You are not,” says Felix, reasonably. “You’re just busy. And you couldn’t help it this time, you were sick. She knows that.”

Esme nods; for all his jokes and quips, Felix is always sensible in a manner that she finds comforting- stating the obvious isn’t such a bad thing when dealing with someone like her.

“I hate being sick,” she murmurs, rolling onto her side so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her more securely, even intertwines their legs. Felix sleeps like this too, though at this point he’s only spent the night a few times.

Esme is taking things as slowly as she dares, given all the other factors at play- her mother, their work, the rest of the team, the fact that he is a vampire from another dimension and she is the human equivalent of dry toast…

“I kind of like it,” Felix confesses, with just enough lilt in his voice that she knows he’s half teasing.

Esme grumbles vengefully into his shirt. He smells like coconut butter and vanilla. She doesn’t know if that’s his aftershave or just the essence of Felix, refined to the purest degree. Sometimes he smells like cinnamon to her, or lavender and honeysuckle.

Felix tolerates these assessments but likes to claim that it’s him producing some kind of super pheromones perfectly designed for luring in unsuspecting human prey. Or his girlfriend. Or both.

Esme has not been anyone’s girlfriend in a long time. Years. It feels very strange. Before him, it’d been so long since she’d even touched anyone, besides Tina or her mother or shaking hands. That absence did not hurt Esme. But being with Felix is like an unexpected delight. Free dessert. Extra sprinkles on your sundae. Any number of juvenile metaphors she should be above, but isn’t.

“You’re not going to ask why I like it?” He is winding his fingers through her hair, which she let down from its usual tight ponytail to ease the tension on her scalp.

“Because you like to mock me?” she ventures.

“No,” says Felix. “Because you would have gone away with Tina, and now I get to see you. And hold you.” He presses an astoundingly gentle kiss to her brow, like a feather.

Esme feels a queer stab of guilt. “I didn’t know you’d minded so much.”

“I don’t mind,” he says quickly. “I was happy for you to get away for once. I’m not going to third wheel you and your best friend.”

“I think the terms refers to the opposite-,”

“Hush hush,” he interrupts, which gets a giggle out of her. “But this is like… an unexpected delight.”

The back of her neck prickles. “Can you read minds?” she asks, half serious.

“Not yet,” he sounds smug. “I have great intuition.”

“Because you’re a vampire?”

“No, because I’m me,” he boasts. “Look at Ava’s intuition. Terrible.”

Esme laughs again. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“She’s always expecting the worse. And Nat swings in the other direction. Always wants to play nice and hug it out.”

“And Mason?” Esme teases, feeling energetic enough not to raise her head so her chin is on his chest. Their noses are almost touching.

“Eh… he’s alright,” Felix breathes, and then closes the gap with a kiss.

Esme kisses him back, more passionately than she’d meant to, and only stops it when he starts to sit up so she is straddling his lap.

“I don’t think I can…”

“Eat some cranberries?” He grins impishly and hands her the bag from the coffee table.

Esme smiles and bumps her forehead against his, something she did impulsively after their first kiss and which he never let her live down.

“What are we, cats?” he says, on cue, but brushes his nose and lips down her cheek and onto her neck, as if to nuzzle her in turn. “Eat some fruit before your migraine comes back. Do you want me to put some of this stuff away?”

“No,” she says, pushing him back down on the sofa. “Just- stay with me, please?”

“Alright,” he agrees, amiable as ever, and reaches for the remote. “This can be like our vacation, yeah? The Felix and Esme Show. The Fezme Show-,”

“No,” she groans, but wriggles off him to curl up beside him instead, a handful of cranberries rising to her mouth as he flips through the channels.

He settles on an episode of Columbo. Felix hasn’t really seen much in the way of TV, and so reruns mean nothing to him. But it means everything to her. They keep the volume on very low, and he gets up at one point to open the windows more, even as the faint sounds of the parking lot outside drift in- the buzz of the lights, doors opening and closing, the crunch of gravel.

Esme falls asleep sagging onto him, cranberries in her lap, mouth half open while Felix watches, riveted in the light of the screen, as the detective closes the case.

#wayhaven summer #the wayhaven chronicles #felix hauville #esme kingston #one shot #prompt fill

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srhlsx · 4 years ago

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masterlist | chapter 1 | CHAPTER 2 | chapter 3

warnings: none?

“Is the weather in Kanto much different from here, your highness?”

“Honestly Mae, I’ve never set foot in Kanto.” You turned away from the racks of hanging clothing in your closet to hand over another dress to the girl standing near you. She was only a few years younger than you, having just started her job as one of your maids a few weeks ago. She grabbed the dress from you and neatly packed it away with the other clothes you had picked out. “I think I’ll pack a little bit of everything, just to be sure.”

“A wise choice,” She nodded. You had to roll your eyes at her formality. No matter how many times you told her she didn’t have to talk to you so stiffly, she couldn’t get past it. “Your mother mentioned we’d be sending the rest of your things later.”

“Mhmm, what should I wear for my arrival?” You stepped back to get a better look across the clothing you hadn’t yet packed. Your hands rested at your hips as you mulled over the possibilities, the young maid stepping up to stand next to you and look around as well.

“Your new king’s colors are red and black, maybe something of those colors.”

You jumped, slightly startled at the new voice that came from the doorway separating your bedroom from your closet. Both you and Mae turned around quickly to see the bright eyes and sharp expression of Hoshiumi watching you.

“Doesn’t really match my aesthetic though,” You smirked at him before turning back to the array of light colored clothes you owned, “Maybe I’ll just wear white to scare the poor boy who has to marry me.”

Looking over at Mae, who had significantly shrunken in on herself with the arrival of Hoshiumi in his full soldier uniform, you nodded towards the door to signal to her that it was okay for her to leave. She scurried away, grabbing the bag of clothing that was finished packing and bowing quickly at both of you before disappearing.

“She’s quite meek,” Hoshiumi observed, turning to look at you after watching your maid leave.

“She’ll grow into it,” You mumbled. You distracted yourself with folding another piece of clothing into the open bag that was left. A thick air hung in the space you stood in, a sadness that had consumed you since news of your departure had been made known.

Your wedding was in one week and you were departing for Kanto and its capital city of Tokyo that evening. Things between you and your guard had been tense ever since you told him what your father’s plan for you was. He was quiet about it, silently stewing over the fact that you were being forced into the whole thing. You reminded him it was your duty and you could handle yourself, but he still had a sharp look in his eyes whenever it was brought up.

“Keep looking at me like that and I might start thinking you’re going to miss me, Kōrai.” You smiled up at him, quirking your eyebrow in a teasing manner.

He let out a bitter sounding chuckle, shaking his head and stepping into the room towards you. “Hardly,” he started. “The kitchen workers and I are throwing a celebration the minute you’re gone.”

You snorted a breath of air through your nose, turning back to your folding although now you weren’t doing a very neat job of it. “Yeah well…” You mumbled, the sad thought that you were actually leaving your home starting to hit you. You turned to Hoshiumi and gave him a thin, closed-lip smile, the action not meeting your eyes as you leaned against the table your bag rested on. “I’m sorry you won’t get to become a king.”

“(Y/n),” He stepped closer to you, reaching a hand up to caress your cheek gently. “You know that is never what it’s been about.”

“I-” Your voice was cut off when his hand that had been on your cheek drifted to the back of your head and pulled you forward towards him. Your eyes closed as Hoshiumi’s lips pressed to yours in a deep kiss. He didn’t try anything else, content with keeping you pressed against him for as long as you would allow. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had kissed by any means, but the way he held onto you made it clear he wanted the last time to be memorable. After a few moments you lifted your hands to push on his chest and create a little bit of distance between the two of you. “Kōrai, I-”

“You will always be my queen, (Y/n).” He said, his eyes held a sad but hard expression as they shifted their gaze to something over your head - anything to not look directly at you. “I’m leaving tomorrow, for Chugoku.”

“Leaving?” You questioned, finally snapping out of the haze that had gathered in your head. “I thought you were going to be here in charge of the guard? Who will-”

“Your brother has called for me, he offered me a position in his King’s Guard when he is crowned next year.” Hoshiumi stepped away from you, fixing pieces of his uniform that didn’t need fixing but served as a good distraction. Your silence made him look up at you after a few seconds, “Gao will take over here and you’ll be provided a new guard when you get to Tokyo. His majesty’s guard is known to be above and beyond in skill, I find comfort in knowing you’ll be taken care of.”

You nodded along with his words, turning back to folding your clothes. You had accepted your fate, but the sadness was still there and you let it show when you threw a piece of clothing into the bag a little more aggressively than what was needed. “This fuckin’ blows,” You said, Hoshiumi chuckling at your choice of vulgar words.

“If anyone can survive this, it’s you princess.” Hoshiumi laughed at the over-dramatic pout that had adorned your features, pulling you into a comforting hug and resting his chin on top of your head. “Just watch your temper.”

Wrapping your arms around your old friend you squeezed him extra tight, allowing yourself a little bit more time for sadness before you had to leave your home.

As the car pulled onto the road that led to your future home, you had to admit you were impressed. Even being in the middle of a large city, Castle Nekoma was on a plot of land that stretched far and wide with a lush lawn of green grass and scattered trees. A river snaked its way parallel to the road and eventually curved to surround the castle on two sides.

The castle itself was built entirely of gray stones, the tall towers and smooth arches that made up the structure of it were beautifully crafted and reminded you much of your own home. You’d been to many castles around Japan and even within your own kingdom, but having never set foot in Kanto you weren’t sure what you’d find for the king’s living arrangements. The royal family was known for their power and wealth so it was no surprise their castle was a sight to behold.

“Your highness?” You were pulled out of your thoughts with the stopping of the SUV, the driver looking at you through the rear-view mirror and his darkly tinted sunglasses. “We’ve arrived.”

You nodded your head and sat up a little straighter as the door next to you was opened by a middle aged man in a black suit. Taking the hand he held out for you, you stepped out onto the stone pathway leading up to the castle before you. Waiting a few feet away at the top of a set of steps was an older couple you instantly recognized as the current King, Yasufumi Nekomata, and his wife. They stood with modest smiles on their faces as you climbed the steps, your heels clacking against the stones the only sound while servants and soldiers watched.

“Your majesty,” You put on your best smile and bowed deeply towards the old man, lifting up after a moment and repeating the greeting towards his wife. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“We are glad to have you Princess,” Nekomata said, his narrow eyes crinkling even smaller as he smiled at you. “I do apologize our son will not be joining us.”

“I understand the prince has his priorities,” You nodded politely, the smile on your face did not reach your eyes and you didn’t mean for it to. You had your suspicions that the prince would not greet you, not out of disrespect but because he had not had the mind for it. He prioritized his training, royal duties, over greeting some foreign princess he was going to marry regardless.

You would not let this small bump impact you, but you would hold it against him.

“Come,” Nekomata waved a hand at the servants unloading your things behind you from the car and then turned to walk into the castle, holding out an arm for his wife to grab. “Let’s give you a brief tour and then show you to your living space, I’m sure you’re wary from traveling.”

You didn’t get the full tour, really only getting shown around the wing of the castle where the living quarters were located, but it didn’t matter much as your feet were hurting and the sun signaled it was getting close to time for dinner to be served.

A servant opened the door to a large and ornate living space, and you had to stop yourself from actually gawking at the arrangements. You knew the royal family of Tokyo was wealthy, but this was extravagant.

You took a few steps in, turning around to take it all in as the queen followed after you with a pretty girl with long blonde hair wearing a dark uniform trailing after her. “This will be your living space, I do hope it’s comparable to what you are used to.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You breathed out, taking a closer look at some of the more personal details around the room - like small trinkets on the nightstands, a tossed shirt, or a casual spear resting in the corner. Confused, you turned to her to complete your thoughts. “Um, this is very satisfactory.”

“Ah, I see Tetsurō didn’t quite clean up everything like I asked.” She chuckled, motioning towards the items you had been pointedly looking at. At your confused look she continued to explain, “These are the prince’s living quarters. Since you will be married soon we assumed it would be easiest to have you move in here now - to make the transition easier and not have you move too often.”

Pursing your lips together, you tried not to be too obvious in your hesitation over the arrangements. The queen was smiling at you, eyes closed although you got the sense she was waiting for you to protest, to challenge her. You nodded in understanding, “I appreciate you accommodating so much for me.”

“Well, dear, you will be family in a few days. We take care of each other here.” She placed a delicate, manicured hand on your cheek - her touch was light, but you felt the weight of power off it anyways. “Alisa will be your attendant, let her know if there is anything you need.”

You smiled at the girl who was waiting by the door, she bowed and smiled brightly back at you. “It is lovely to meet you, your highness.” She greeted, hands clasped in front of her tightly. “I look forward to serving you.”

As the queen said her goodbyes, you let Alisa know that you’d like to take your dinner in your room for that night, citing fatigue as your reasoning. Nodding fervently, she excused herself and went to gather up the meal for you.

Now alone, you took the opportunity to explore the living space you found yourself in. Unlike yours back home, this space was one large room. The head of the bed was against the far wall, the surrounding curtains pulled back and tied against the four posts at each corner, and an overwhelming number of dark colored pillows decorating the surface. The more you looked around you noted how seriously they took their royal colors here, everything was a dark shade of red, accented in gold, or completely black.

A closed door led to what you assumed was the bathroom and closet, but you’d explore that later. What was calling out to you most was a set of double doors, already open and leading to a balcony that looked over the large courtyard of the castle. You made your way outside, the air already starting to cool off with the setting of the sun. Walking to the ledge and leaning your weight on your elbows with your arms crossed over each other casually you could see the expanse of the courtyard.

More importantly, you saw a group of what looked like soldiers sparring with each other. You were getting married in a few days, but you were also a woman in her early twenties - it wouldn’t hurt anyone to admire what was in front of you. Leaning forward a little more comfortably, you watched the men who looked around your age, grunting and tousling against each other.

“What’s wrong, Bokuto? Giving up so easily?” Kuroo stood up from his fighting stance, leaning his weight against the blunt training staff he was holding. He shot a smirk at his friend, the teasing glint in his eyes brighter than ever in the light of the setting sun.

“Your bride has arrived,” Bokuto nodded behind Kuroo in the direction that had caught his attention.

Kuroo stood straight and turned around, lazily following Bokuto’s gaze up to the third floor balcony that was attached to his own living quarters. Bokuto had been right, leaning against the ledge stood a beautiful creature, hair carried by the wind, gaze most definitely on the group of sparring men - on him. Wearing a pale pink dress immediately told the group you were not from around there, although yours was a face not easily forgotten anyways.

“Damn,” Bokuto chuckled. “They sure make ‘em right in Chubu. I heard she’s a real piece of work.”

“Yes, she is King Hirugami’s only daughter.” Kuroo said, sweeping his staff towards Bokuto and catching him off guard, making him stumble when his legs were nearly taken out from beneath him. “Now stop staring and fight me.”

“Yes, your highness.” Bokuto sneered at the prince, walking back into the training space they had previously been in.

Your eyes watched as the two who had been staring at you moved back to practice together some more, and you kept watching as they began moving against one another with calculated and deliberate strikes.

TAGS: @turquoiselace @akasuns @edensxgarden @iguessimastannow @carbs-need-more-love @ack-aashi @weebartistinc @semiathleticnerdykid @foryearsnyears @kuxredere @yatoatyourservice @rirk-ke @weebintheinternet @hajartemis @kiyobbie @aegeanblues @guardianangelswings @lukaseu @aj--honey @shiningstar-byulxx

Tags are open if you’d like to be added As always, thank you for the love on this!!!!

#kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou #royal kuroo #prince kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu reader #x reader #royal au #royalty au #haikyuu au #srhlsx majesty

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charged-wanderlust · 4 years ago

Text

a beautiful hurricane, pt. 3 | jett slater x mc x remy chevalier

THIS... THIS IS ALMOST 3K WORDS LMFAOOO well. i hope that makes up for the wait SDFGJSDHDS warning for mild smut ahead!!! anyway thank you so much @mcira for commissioning me, it helps me greatly and was so fun to do! if anyone else wants me to write them something, my commission prices are here!

What you really end up doing, instead of talking to Remy, is first, talking to Nikolai.

It only felt right - nobody knew Remy like Nikolai did, you’re pretty sure they dated once upon a time but refuse to talk about it, and Nikolai working with all of you made his approval very significant to the matter at hand.

“You’re asking for my blessing… to ask out Remy?” He blinks, dazed and confused, an uncommon expression from the mastermind himself. “Why do I have a say in who he dates?”

“It’s less asking for permission and more like asking for advice,” you explain quickly, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck. “We know Remy is the jealous type, that much is obvious. So we just wanna know what you think on the whole polyamory thing - would Remy try it? Do you know how he feels about.. about us?”

Nikolai scoffs, his signature smirk returning. “The real question is, who doesn’t know how he feels about you two?” His words make you and Jett flush parallel shades of red, but you let him continue. “Yes, he’s definitely in love with you both. And that’s precisely why he hasn’t done anything about it; he doesn’t think he deserves one partner, let alone two. Instead, he drags out this con as long as physically possible just so he can pretend to be your husband a little bit longer, pretend like he can have you before you inevitably end up with Jett.”

Jett strokes his chin in thought, gears turning in his brain. “That would also explain why he’s been a lot more forward with me lately, but only when MC isn’t around… wow, he really thinks it’s his last chance, huh?”

He nods. “Exactly. In his head, he’s not worthy of love and you two deserve each other and are perfect together. I don’t even think the thought of polyamory has even crossed his mind.”

“Well it should!” Jett protests, like it means anything to Nikolai. “We both wanna date him, and he wants both of us! What now?”

“What do you think?” Nikolai asks it like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “You ask him.”

It has to be dramatic, you’d decided. Something awe-inducing, something solid and concrete so he can’t argue - because if there’s one thing Remy Chevalier knows how to do, it’s argue. You work with the Poppy to get Remy out of the penthouse - Vivienne might have poisoned him just a little to get the job done - long enough to stuff his room with lilies of the valley, and you help Jett paint the border of Remy’s mirror with all the little things you can think of that have some semblance of importance to you.

Making sure to use easy-to-remove paints, the two of you get carried away, branching from the edges of his mirror onto the walls, painting sunsets shared and fireworks made and foods had together. You and Jett work in perfect tandem with each other, art connecting to make one big picture that almost looks like a time-lapse of all the time you’d spent with him; the sunset where Jett realised his love for Remy all those years ago fading into the ice cream shop you discovered Remy’s favourite flavour was vanilla, fading into the river you all boated down together and learned that Remy has a surprisingly sweet singing voice.

Jett keeps pausing in the middle of his paintings, though, and eventually it becomes enough to make you ask.

“Jett? At first I thought you were just thinking about the painting real hard, but you’re not even looking at it. What’s wrong?”

You thought he was starting to get insecure, but instead, he laughs. He laughs and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“Nothing’s wrong, love, I’m looking at you.”

“Oh.”

“You’re most attractive when you’re in your element like this, I think,” he explains, touching up the clouds on his side of the wall. “I just can’t help but think of how lucky I am.”

About an hour too early, the door flies open, and both of you whip around to find Remy in the doorway.

“Ah-ha I knew you guys were… up to… something…..” His voice trails off as he takes in the view before him, the flowers he’d only ever given those he’d loved, the paintings that he recognised the meanings of instantly, his own face in the mirror with a little crown painted atop his head- “What… what is all this? I thought it’d be another prank but… this… this is beautiful…”

You exchange a look with Jett, grinning from ear to ear, and gesture Remy to come sit on the bed with you.

“Oh-ho-ho, this is a really elaborate one is it? Let me guess. All of this for a really well-timed whoopee cushion?”

“How you wound me,” Jett sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead. “You really think that low of us?”

“I assure you, Remy,” you chip in, “I wouldn’t spend this much effort on a prank.”

“Then what else?”

Once again, you turn to Jett, who looks just as uncertain of what to say as you are. “Uh. Something important?”

Taking a deep breath, you figure you’re going to have to do the talking for the both of you.

“I’m gonna start talking, Remy, and I don’t want you to say shit till I say I’m finished. Okay?”

Remy is completely and utterly bewildered, but he nods slowly and sits on the bed, door shutting behind him as he observes the memories plastered all over his bedroom wall.

“We’re in love with you,” Jett blurts out, and it startles you so much you elbow him in the rib.

“What was that for?!”

“Ever heard of laying it on slowly?!”

“You’re… what?”

You sigh, gathering the courage to look Remy in the eyes as you talk. “Remy… over these past few months, working with you, getting to know you, the real you - the Remy underneath all those masks you wear to please people - I find I don’t want to stop being yours when the con ends. I-If you’ll have me, that is. And if you’ll have Jett, too.”

“It wasn’t the marriage con we did once that made me fall for you, actually,” Jett laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It was before that. That one kiss on the rooftop in Buenos Aires when the sun rose, when we didn’t go any further than that. All of a sudden it wasn’t about the sex anymore, or how good of a kisser you are - it was about you. Just you.”

“And before you butt in about me falling in love with you because you’re acting as my husband,” you interject, giving him a stern, knowing look that makes him shrink a little, “You’ve been teaching me all your tricks. I know when you’re being real or not. You can even test me.”

Something changes is Remy’s eyes when you say that, and he fixes them on yours.

“I love you.”

“That’s real.”

He smiles, but it’s the smile of a broken man, getting up to leave. “It’s not, ma cherie. You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“That’s also a lie!” He freezes, pinned under your glare, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers with his. Jett does the same with his other hand, face uncharacteristically solemn, and once again, Remy is speechless. “That’s what you want to believe, Remy, you’re lying to yourself more than anyone else. You think you’re getting in the way of us, you think you don’t deserve it but let me tell you, there’s a way. We can love you as much as we love each other - we do, and if you don’t wanna believe it that’s your own loss because we really, really care about you!”

The silence is is deafening enough to make your hands tremble.

“That- That’s all I have to say. Jett?”

“I’ve never been good with words,” Jett huffs, bringing Remy’s hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss across the man’s knuckles. “But I can prove how I feel about you in any way you ask, Remy. Through touch, through action, hell, through painting-” he gestures at the colourful wall behind him in exasperation, “-it’s all for you. These are all memories-”

“The time we had brunch on a boat,” Remy cut in, gazing fondly at the river painted atop his mirror. “The time in Bruges we kissed to be inconspicuous… the time I brought you ice cream tasting…” His eyes landed on the flowers adorning the sides of his room. “The flowers I’d given you.”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to speak underwater, but he’s ran out of air - ran out of words - so instead, he wraps an arm around each of you and pulls you in for a soul-crushing hug, burying his face in your shoulders. He doesn’t make a noise, but his body quivers, and you and Jett realise he’s crying at the same time.

“I-I love you both, too.” His voice is small, but not weary - it’s just for you and Jett only, not the ears in the walls. “I love you both so much it-it- it hurts and I didn’t know what to do with myself and I just-”

He sits back up, wiping the tears from his face and giving you a real smile this time, the smile you see in your sketchbook, your dreams, your future - “It’s just too good to be true, almost. Like there’s meant to be a catch.”

Jett cups Remy’s face, kissing him softly, briefly, but enough to send tingles down his spine.

“The catch is you’re going to have to deal with both of us and all the shenanigans that ensue.”

Remy returns the kiss, just as chaste but just as lovingly. “I guess I have my hands full, then.”

“You sure do!” You laugh, climbing into his lap, jokingly shoving Jett aside - to which he yelps, “hey!” - and bringing your face close to Remy’s. “My turn, Remy. You told me a real kiss could tear open the sky. Care to demonstrate?”

He doesn’t waste a moment. You feel his smirk against your lips before you see it, welcoming the blistering heat as he pulls you closer to him, chest to chest. Finally, finally, finally - you thread your fingers in his long, silky hair, just like you’ve imagined so long, and all the teasing was so worth it because he kisses you like he can’t live without it. Maybe he can’t, not now that he’s had a taste and it really does break open the sky; the whole galaxy and beyond.

Getting impatient, Jett moves behind you, knocking Remy back onto the mattress and pinning you between them. He doesn’t expect you to stop kissing Remy - he knows firsthand how addicting his kiss is - instead, he tosses your hair over one shoulder and places his lips upon your now exposed neck, light, not tentative but tantalizing.

“Jett…”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you two,” he purrs next to your ear, ghosting his lips across the shell. “I’m quite enjoying the show.”

“You tease,” Remy half-chuckles-half-rasps, reaching past you to grab Jett’s collar and yank him down into another searing kiss, only to bite his lip harsh enough to make him gasp, then pulling back to leave him hanging.

Jett licks his lips, eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “So how are we doing this, then?”

“We’ve danced this dance before, you and I,” Remy muses, tracing Jett’s jawline with the pad of his thumb, “We should let MC decide.”

“I’ve danced this dance with both of you,” Jett snickers, peeling off the two of you to start working the buckles of his suspenders, giving you a cheeky wink. “Maybe I should give you tips. For example…”

He rolls you off Remy, pinning your wrists above your head, “MC likes being manhandled a little bit. And she’s really sensitive right here-” He sucks at the soft skin above your collarbone and you let out a soft whine on instinct, embarrassment painted all over your face, but you don’t miss the way Remy’s eyes darken at the sound.

“Good to know… any other tips I should know?”

“Ah-ah-ah, it should be fair for both of you.”

This time, he cages Remy to the bed, and you watch with rapt attention as he hikes the other man’s shirt up, giving you a brilliant view of his toned muscles. Jett leans down and drags his teeth along his v-line, making his legs twitch beneath him.

“Ah- Jett, you’re a menace.”

“You love it.”

A disgruntled sigh is the only confirmation he gives, but the smile on his face says it all as he shrugs off his shirt entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. “I quite preferred MC on top of me, actually.”

“Mm, it is a good look on you,” Jett agrees, helping you out of your clothes with surprising calmness compared to his usual frenzied movements. Clearly, Remy brings out the side of him that likes to really savour it.

Remy can’t help but groan at the sight of you in all your glory, taking Jett’s advice from earlier and tugging you atop him impatiently - maybe Jett brought out the beast in Remy, too.

Emboldened by his eagerness, you grind down on him, and the low rumble you hear from him in response is music to your ears. “I didn’t know our Remy was so… vocal.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard him when he’s taking it-”

“If we have to bring that up, mon coeur, I think you have me beat.”

You giggle, magnetically drawn to his lips once more while your hands fumble with his belt; Jett helps you discard the remaining cloth in the way so you and Remy finally, finally come together - it’s electric. You feel the static buzz all the way down to your toes, and it’s so, so good.

“Think you can handle both of us, love?” Jett peppers your shoulder blades with kisses, and while just the thought makes you shudder - you nod, almost too enthusiastically.

“I want it.”

“Good girl.”

The addition of Jett fills the room the with a chorus of moans that you can barely tell who from who. They give you a minute to adjust - ever the gentlemen - and next thing you know is an all-encompassing pleasure that pulses through your whole body, and you swear you can see stars. You have to bite down on Remy’s shoulder to not alert the entire building of the debauchery going on in the room, but he just grips your hips harder, growling deep in his chest.

“Don’t hold back on me, ma reveuse. Let us hear you.”

Who are you to deny him?

Noise complaints be damned, you think - the Poppy had stayed in town for this very reason. With every movement from Remy and Jett, your mind goes blank, only able to focus on the two of them working in perfect harmony, their hips, their lips, their hands, their voices, just them, them, them.

“C-Christ, you’re incredible- you’re both incredible. I’m- I’m-”

Jett’s pace stutters, but Remy keeps going, absolutely voracious, and your highs all crash down at once. Your back arches, toes curl, and you don’t even recognise the sounds leaving your mouth, but your two boyfriends ride out the wave with you, muttering choked-up praise in your ear and hushed I love you’s until your soul finally returns to your body.

The three of you collapse on the bed, a tangle of limbs and sweat, and Jett has the audacity to laugh. Not even having the breath to reply, you just tilt your head at him, raising a brow in question.

“Hah- If I knew this was how it would’ve ended up, I would’ve asked you both out a lot sooner, fuck…”

You gave him a worn-out, lazy grin. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Remy pecks your cheek affectionately, rolling out of bed to head for the bathroom. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“You did great, love,” Jett hums softly, stroking your hair rhythmically, gazing at you with entire galaxies behind his eyes. “Don’t worry. Between me and Remy, we can carry you everywhere until you can walk again.”

“I’d kiss that stupid smirk off your face if I had the energy,” you huff, crossing your arms. “You’re way too smug for your own good.”

“You love it.”

Remy returns with a damp towel, gently wiping you down with enough care to turn your limbs to jelly if they weren’t already bone-tired. “We do, unfortunately. What a shame.”

Jett weakly whacks him on the shoulder, and the three of you laugh together like the notes of a perfect chord. It’s hectic, all of you being together, but it’s perfect. Life never did stop being a hurricane, but with these two by your side, you know you can surrender to the harsh winds, letting it carry you along like a roller coaster - heart always thumping, eyes always shining.

You never knew a hurricane could be so beautiful.

#FINALLY THIS HULK OF A FIC IS DONE #well its not the longest thing ive written by far but #it sure is for lovestruck anyway #lovestruck voltage #queen of thieves #qot mc #jett slater #remy chevalier #jett x mc #jett x remy #remy x mc #jett x remy x mc #lovestruck fanfiction

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