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majorasnightmare · 1 year ago

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Please elaborate on the Ganondorf Au(s), I gotta know, lol I my immediate first thought was this weird/elaborate Coffee Shop AU where Zelda and Link are running some small-time locally owned franchise (like two, maybe three stores)... and Ganondorf rolls up in some Super-Starbucks trying to take over or push them out of business... why did that come to me so quickly, lmao

OKAY S O

jesus christ this is long

i find ganondorf to be a deeply compelling character. this is in part to the way pre botw zelda games utilized him as both a villain and as this symbolic culmination of evil.

now other games may have done this, but none immediately come to mind, as one of the most compelling aspects of ganondorfs character is that before botw? every instance in every game was the SAME dude (except skyward sword but ill talk about that later). that allowed games with stronger narrative focus to flesh him out in greater detail, while a game with a more cut and dry story but flashier cinematics could really sell his menace, and future iterations could carry the boons of both.

now the zelda timeline is a mess, and the games themselves were not built around that concept. at most youd get direct sequels like majoras mask, or games directly referencing an older title as part of their history, like twilight princess. one should not take the timeline as Word Of God Canon (even though there are multiple official books that reference it), but they all kind of work together to give you a bigger picture. this is especially true for the 2d zeldas, as Ganondorf The Character wasnt really an explored concept back then. you instead had dark beast ganon (who once took human form as dude named Aganhim but hes. separate. like hes canon and important but most of what he contributes to Ganondorf As Character is the dark evil wizard vibes).

in general, when looking at ganondorfs character youll mostly be examining four titles: Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Windwaker, and Skyward Sword. skyward sword is unique in a lot of ways because it IS made with the "zelda timeline" in mind, and is the timelines official beginning. here we get the forging of the master sword, the first imprisoning war, and! a guy that is NOT ganondorf! demon king demise is the end game boss here, and while i could dedicate a post to analyzing his limited screentime, whats important to this convo is that demise lays a curse upon his defeat. those bearing the soul of the hero (link, who reincarnates), the blood of the goddess hylia (zelda, who does not and instead has descendants inheriting power) will be caught in a cycle of war and blood with the bearer of demise's hatred (ganondorf!). and THERES the money. that last part there helps contribute a LOT to further analyzing ganondorfs character throughout these games because, as mentioned before, they build on each other!

the plot of ocarina of time is not deep. its an enjoyable game, but like most zelda entries, its a paint by numbers tale of a good hero overcoming an evil villain who kidnaps a Notable Woman as the final build towards the climax, wherein you kick his ass free the girl and kill him. (kind of. ganondorf never really DIES) HOWEVER. twilight princess, windwaker, and skyward sword, by virtue of focusing on this SAME DUDE, end up giving a LOT of retroactive depth! its a really fun phenomenon!

that tears of the kingdom throws in the fucking trash! for!! some reason!! WHY. why the hell would you spend 25 years making a layer cake piece by piece and then throw it in the trash in favor of box mix cupcakes??? I DONT GET IT MAN.

totk isnt. a BAD game per se. theres a lot to enjoy about it.

narrative is not one of those things.

tiptoeing around spoilers here but discussing them generally

the dragon tears are, among other things, about ganondorfs rise to power, to reach his current end game boss state. despite this. he has a grand total of three scenes before he GETS that power. one of which is him laughing, one of which is a poorer retelling of a scene from OoT, and the last one is his introduction where he does fuck all. WHERES THE MOTIVE HERE????

OoT is my least favorite entry of the 4 games listed above. it has a lot of dated narrative elements and systemic issues that continue to plague nintendo to this day (misogyny and racism as per usual). despite this, i find myself returning to OoTs narrative and characterization REPEATEDLY in totk because in so many aspects it just storytells better! yes totk is an open world game with a hands off narrative approach. but botw has that concept down pat and is a more satisfying experience. totk is a more narrative focused botw, and yet its storytelling sucks WORSE than botws and doesnt even measure up to OLDER TITLES. more detailed rants on that are for another time.

so what is a bitch with a special interest in zelda and a fixation on its most charismatic villain to do when presented with an otherwise enjoyable game that is deeply unsatisfying in regards to aforementioned autistic bitchs favorite villain?

obviously make an au thats TotK But Better For Me And My Bros Specifically (thanks @villalunae ily forever)

but if your gonna do that, might as well go full self indulgence, right?

due to aforementioned Ganondorf Characterization Layer Cake, theres a LOT of fun Implied Nuance to play around with, of most importance is ganondorfs relationship with the gerudo, and the gerudos relationship to hyrule. demises curse and the elements of destiny and fate add some fun compounding factors to really amp the tension up, but in my opinion only really ever serve as The Last Straw so to speak. its important that ganondorf is someone who chooses to be this way! but choices arent made in a vacuum, and prying those circumstances apart gives you so many potential ways for this to End Differently.

so seeing that TotK Ganondorf is NOT the OG OoT Ganondorf, the idea here is to further explore the concept of like. WHY is he a villain? villain is a socially constructed category afterall. how do you focus on those circumstances and their effects on a person? how does the political situation of hyrule play into this?

a personal favorite interpretation of mine (and other ppls judging by the plethora of fan content in a similar vein), is this idea of a Redeemed Ganondorf, a variation where ganondorf is NOT the final boss, but instead an ally of link and zeldas. wrt this particular au, that looks a lot like locking everyone in a room together and see who starts throwing things first.

so with that in mind, i just ended up going through scene after scene in totk and thinking of how a redeemable ganondorf would play out. what kind of personality would he have, how would he interact with these other characters, what are his relationships like? whats his driving motive, how committed to these ideas is he, whats his breaking point and why? and then playing with those ideas and throwing them against other characters, how does he interact with the sages, how does he interact with rauru, how does he interact with ZELDA?

a lot of that informs the baseline of how we ended up going through making the au (alongside a hefty dose of writers worldbuilding dilemma lmao) and also serves as the foundation of subsequent sequel aus that as of right now exist solely as amvs in my head.

so in summary theres two?? maybe 3??? that im just marinating in.

the main unnamed totk au, where the triforce trio work alongside each other to put an end to demises curse of hatred once and for all, with a large focus on character dynamics and their relationships to each other (and also plenty of self indulgence. ghirahim got tossed back in there. and fi)

and then, after that, a kind of hypothetical sequel game to totk au. set 100 years after the ending events of totk au, the trio + co navigate a world where the threat of ganondorfs rise to power is no longer the primary problem hyrule suffers, but instead a power vacuum in the realm of demons, leading to a slowly rising threat of demon incursion. focuses on how your "party" (ganondorfs reincarnation, links reincarnation, and a non-princess zelda, alongside naboorus reincarnation, and impa (neither a reincarnation nor a descendant but once again paying homage to impa as a recurring character)) gets along with each other and how, as the years go by (i have. TWO seperate time skips so far), their relationships to each other change, and how their goals and ideals grow and change in response to the shifting landscape of threat in hyrule

the last one, technically, is a modern au that mostly works as background context for triforce trio shitposting.

(ur idea for a coffee shop au is fuckn FANTASTIC btw i love it)

GOD this post got long. thanks for holdin out so long for all this! i can definitely make long as fuck posts about. p much anything in totk and how it gets changed or reinterpreted in totk au, or ganondorfs relationships in that au, because they live in my brain rent free.

#byrdsfly #loz totk #totk au #totk ganondorf #ganondorf #totk spoilers #throwing this in the main tags because. i love talking to ppl lmao #thank u SO much for giving me a reason to publically ramble ajsjsjdjd

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literaryfic · 4 years ago

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singer!cha-young & violonist!vincenzo au pt.1

don’t ask me why. i have no answer for you okay.

cha-young starts her career when she’s 5, appearing in a yogurt commercial. she’s not exactly a cute child, but she’s enthusiastic and disciplined.

her dad, the retired leader of a rock band who had a few hit songs in the 80s, is the one who introduces her to music.

she learns the piano & the guitar and takes singing lesson. her childhood is guided by auditions and music classes.

when she’s 12, a big agency contacts her and she signs a trainee contract with them. her dad is against it, but her mom and her win him over. she’ll be careful, they’ll look after her.

she starts training after school everyday, on the weekends too. she’s not really good at dance and she gets in trouble a lot but she’s the best singer in her age group, which makes up for it.

time passes by and the company starts to ask her to lose weight. her dance teacher comments on how big her thighs are. she’s asked if she ever thought about a nose job, or an eye surgery. those things happen a lot, and if she wants a sit at the big table, she’ll need to make some decisions.

her parents disagree, of course, but then her mother falls ill. she has to stop working and money becomes scarce. cha-young doesn’t want to bother them with her insignificant issues and so she starts a diet without any of them noticing. she needs to be thinner, maybe she’ll win a scholarship and her dad won’t need to work two jobs anymore.

her dad comes home drunk most nights, as if the sight of her mother made him sick. she was dying and her husband couldn’t even look at her anymore. cha-young doesn’t know who she hates more: her dad or herself for wishing she could escape home the same way he did every night.

her mom dies when she’s 15 and she stops taking lessons. she quits the company after a while too. she wins a scholarship for a good arts high school, known to hone musical talents. she meets new friends there, ones who don’t care about her proportions or her eyelids, and she’s happy in school.

her dad and her starts to argue more and more, until they stop talking. she fills the silence in her empty house with the music she writes.

after she graduates high school, she works two jobs to pay her way through college. all of her spare time is used composing, writing lyrics, singing. she posts covers on YouTube and she starts to gain some followers.

it’s not enough to make money but an independent label that’s been on the rise notices her. she signs with them after reading the contract carefully, when she’s 19. she choses her stage name, NOVA.

her first album is out by the time she’s 20 and she starts appearing on tv. her second album at 23 is her big break. her first hit song “Alone With You”, an upbeat tune contrasted by sad lyrics, stays on top of the charts for weeks, owing her the nickname of “monster rookie”.

people soon start to discover her easy-going, bubbly yet blunt personality and she starts going on more variety shows.

she’s loved and she’s found her sound, profound lyrics with innovative instrumentals, she plays with genres and concepts often, keeping her image fresh.

at 30, she’s one of the biggest South Korean solo act. she tours the world, sells album, holds events for her fans, travels. she doesn’t have to think about money anymore. she lives in a luxurious apartment in the centre of Seoul.

she’s learned that not everyone is going to love her. she’s used to dealing with virulent anti-fans, stalkers and paparazzi.

she has everything her 15 year old self dreamt of, an amazing career and devoted fans, a name people recognise and a wardrobe bigger than their previous living room. yet, she can’t seem to fill the emptiness inside of her.

she calls her dad once a year, for the new year. he still lives in their old house, refusing to move into the one she bought just for him. he teaches guitar to kids at the community center in their neighbourhood. her anger doesn’t seem to fade with the years.

she almost looses everything when her assistant, jung jun woo, leaks the fact that she’s had an abortion after she rejects him.

she’d been dating an actor a few years ago, and they had had an accident. she’d noticed too late that she missed her period since it was irregular and had to get an abortion. she didn’t think any of it now, there’s nothing wrong with a woman making this choice and she wasn’t ready to become a mother. she’d never once regretted it in the past.

however, South Korea’s entertainment industry was not a kind one, and a news like that would destroy her clean, quirky girl-next-door image she’d built over the years. and it did.

she’d never expected jun woo to betray her. he was part of her management team, one of her assistants. he’d always been cute if not a little clingy.

he’d confessed his feelings for her a few weeks back, claiming that he knew they were made for each other and that he would do everything for her and she’d laughed in his face. she hadn’t meant to sound mean or insensitive, she had thought it was a prank he was pulling on her.

turns out it wasn’t, and he had leaked this “abortion gate” to dispatch to get get back at her.

her label had released a vague statement, about “a difficult time in her life”, urging people to stop looking into “her private medical history”.

trashy tabloids and online blogs had had a field day. some people even started a petition to remove her from the industry. the news quickly turned into a social discourse when feminist orgs stood up for her. everyone was talking about it, some claiming she was a slut, others turning her into a symbol for women’s rights.

she felt like neither, it had been too long since she’d gotten some to qualify as a slut, and her label would have never let her discuss politics publicly.

she’d lost dozens of endorsements and deals and had officially decided to “focus on her health away from the spotlight” for a while (another statement from her label)

officially on her first hiatus ever, cha-young was lost. every time she tried to write, nothing came out. it would’ve been the perfect time to work on a new album but it seemed nothing worked in her favour as of late.

it’s 6 am when her father calls her. the last she’d heard of him was when the scandal broke out and he’d sent a vague supportive message to which she had responded “thanks, dad”. it was unusual for him to call, especially so early (or late).

she picks up the phone the second times he calls. “hello?” “hello, do you know the owner of this phone?” the man on the other side of the line is definitely not her father and he sounds rather annoyed. “yes, i’m this person’s daughter.” “great, can you come pick him up from my hotel room?” “your hotel room? is he okay?” “he should be. we drank too much and i have to vacate the room before 8. can you come or not?” “yes.” “I’ll text you the address from his phone.” is the last thing he says before hanging up. what a rude man.

why was her father drunk in hotel room with this rude stranger and why was she the one having to pick him up?

she doesn’t want to wake up her manager at this hour, and so she decides to go on her own. the hotel isn’t too far, a mere 15 minute drive, and soon enough she’s knocking on the door of a very expensive hotel suit, definitely not what one of her father’s friends could afford. who the hell was this guy?

she definitely did not expect Vincenzo Cassano, renowned world class violinist, to be the one opening the door.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #chayenzo au #chayenzo fic #chayenzo hc #basically #famous!chayenzo

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senjuushi · 4 years ago

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Hybrid Au Info Part 5

Here’s the next section of info for the Hybrid Au! :D This time featuring the little boys, Belga, Mauser, and Springfield. Two bunnies and a mouse! They’re all soooo delicate... Bunny!Springy is the most fragile creature in this Au tbh. I’m very excited to be almost done with the info, and the next post should be up tomorrow! And as always, warning for discussion of xeno-based nsfw.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 6] [Part 7]

Belga (Dwarf Rabbit)

Physical

• Upright ears the same color as his hair. Tail matches in color and is very small/puffball like.

• Ears are soft and very sensitive, both physically and in terms of hearing. Pulling or rough handling hurts horribly, so he’ll do almost anything to avoid it. Squeaks and cries when they’re tugged on.

• Piercings in ears from previous owners. Very delicate. Even a light flick is incredibly painful.

• Partially sheathed penis which emerges when aroused.

• Stronger teeth than a human. Solid enough to chew through things that he really shouldn’t have in his mouth. Bites hurt, and he’s gotten in trouble for them before.

Behavioral

• Extremely high-energy. Needs lots of activity and exercise. Suffers psychologically if bored or neglected to the point of causing physical illness.

• Prone to nervousness and anxious behavior when stressed. Stress-eating habits, chews on things. Will chew on things he shouldn’t. Destructive behavior has gotten him trouble before, so he tries to hide it.

• Makes loud, squeaky noises when in pain. Can’t control them no matter how much trouble he gets in. Hates the sounds because of how weak and embarrassing they are.

• Very high sex drive. Easily aroused and gets agitated and miserable if he can’t do anything about it.

• Nesting behavior. Needs something to burrow and hide in or he’ll be in misery. Not having a “nest” makes him stressed and anxious, and can result in snappy, nervous behavior and intense emotional upsets. Very territorial over whatever space is “his”.

Mauser (Fancy Mouse)

Physical

• Large, somewhat droopy ears covered in extremely soft, fine, cream-colored fur. Ear insides are pink. Overall, ears are almost painfully delicate, both in terms of sensitivity and hearing.

• Long, thin tail with a light coating of the same fur. Rough handling hurts horribly, and the delicate bones can easily be broken.

• Sharp teeth that require a lot of chewing to stay healthy. Needs chew toys, but keeps this behavior private out of embarrassment. Sharper and stronger nails than a human.

• Partially sheathed penis that’s relatively small in proportion to body size. “Heat” cycles happen from time to time.

• Can make a variety of squeaking sounds, but avoids it whenever possible out of disgust at how “weak” they seem. When scared or in pain, squeaks happen more frequently and get louder.

Behavioral

• Easily frightened, though he’ll never admit it. “Prey instincts” mean that he gets nervous around anyone bigger or stronger than him, and he’s prone to lashing out when scared.

• Ears are very mobile and give away a lot of his mood. He can’t control them very well, much to his annoyance.

• Picky about personal hygiene, especially the fur on his ears and tail. Will keep both almost religiously clean. Grooming is also a sign of affection to him, both giving and receiving.

• Highly territorial, especially when it comes to the person he considers to be his owner. Aggressive despite his small size.

• Often nervous about being touched or handled. Since his body is small and delicate, he instinctively worries about things like having his ears or tail pulled. No matter how tough he acts, rough handling will leave him squeaking (a usually contained noise).

Springfield (Fuzzy Lop Rabbit)

Physical

• Long, floppy bunny ears that are the same white as his hair, and fade to light blue toward the ends. Covered in impossibly soft, fluffy fur, with velvety-feeling insides. Extremely delicate. Even light pulls or pinching hurts horribly.

• Small, short fluffball tail in the same color as his ears. Tail is also very sensitive, especially at the base.

• Stronger teeth and nails than a human. Nails are relatively blunt, but still tough and hard. Teeth need to be maintained by chewing on things. Sense of hearing is exceptional.

• Penis is partially sheathed and emerges fully when aroused.

• Whole body is extremely receptive to touch, almost too much so. It’s easy to hurt him with even slightly rough handling, but gentle touch feels overwhelmingly good.

Behavioral

• Nesting behavior. Burrows into soft things like blankets and likes to have a small, relatively enclosed space to call his own. Picky about textures and vastly prefers ones that are gentle on his skin.

• Fur (ears and tail) needs a lot of brushing and grooming to prevent matting. Shy about asking for any kind of help.

• Easily aroused and stimulated. High sex drive, but embarrassed to admit it. The wrong kind of touch has him squirming in seconds, and sexual frustration gets the better of him more often than he wants anyone to know. Loses a lot of rational thought when aroused.

• Very social and needy. Requires a lot of affection and attention, but is too nervous (and feels too worthless) to ask for it.

• Severe health issues. Physically frail and delicate, gets sick constantly, and has a weak body overall. Despite naturally high energy, is always drained and shaky. Chronic pain issues.

#Senjuushi #千銃士 #The Thousand Noble Musketeers #Belga #Mauser #Springfield #Hybrid Au #Info

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crispyjenkins · 5 years ago

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Somehow!adopted by a true mandalorian before Galidraan/korda six Obiwan.. so like raised mandalorian Obiwan with Jango/Jaster leading Mandalore

(mmmmf okay I love this sort of au and i tried my best to make it as different as possible from stories that already exist (specifically @atelier-dayz's WiP Ben'bajur) and I've thrown in some good women Mandos because they deserve to be written more. some stuff in timeline has been moved around and you get trans Obi just for funsies *kissu* i make several references to this post’s discussion of mental and physical illness in Mando culture. i um. spent a lot of time thinking about what colour Obi’s beskar’gam would be. i have a lot of feelings about it. **Ruusaan Kryze’s name and fancast/design belong to @amillionstarsandyouchoosethisone from this, thank you so much for letting me use them!)

Jango had not mentally prepared himself to see Obi-Wan again, though to be fair, he hadn’t known he needed to.

The last time he’d seen Ruusaan’s foundling, Obi-Wan had been sixteen and wiry and spitfire in all the wrong ways, with half-complete beskar’gam and a chip on his shoulder a planet-wide. If he remembers correctly, Obi-Wan had called him an arrogant laserbrain with a junk blaster, and Jango had almost challenged him to an honor duel. But when Jango finally makes his way back to Mandalore after seven— Wait, no, eight years?— abroad as a supercommando, both Ruusaan and Obi-Wan are at Jaster's war table, bent over a holomap of the system and talking calmly as you please.

And Obi-Wan is in full beskar'gam, plating painted entirely silver except the yellow clan crest on his left pectoral, and the yellow Mando'a 'ures haal', breathless, lettered on his ghet'bur above his collarbone. He looks up as Jango enters and blinks in surprise, straightening to reveal his helmet under his arm, also silver except the rises of the cheeks.

Ruusaan breaks into a smile, and for all the trouble Obi-Wan had caused when younger, Jango can’t imagine his childhood without the former Kryze and all she had done for the Haat Mando’ade at the Battle of Galidraan. She’s been following Jaster since she was old enough to denounce her clan, an honorary Mereel even if she thinks herself unworthy of such a connection to her Mand’alor; Jango wonders if she had finally decided on a clan name, if both her and Obi-Wan are painted with a new crest.

For all the loving buir Jaster is, he doesn’t drag things out, and after a quick hug, he pulls Jango into their discussion of relief aid to Concordia after the latest Death Watch insurgence as if Jango had never left. Ruusaan quickly picks up their easy friendship, closer to siblings than superior and subordinate, but Jango absolutely does not know what to do with Obi-Wan’s new calm cadence, the confidence and knowledge that he’s picked up in Jango’s absence.

He’s surprisingly been running relief missions for Jaster for the last five years, when he isn’t busy taking commando missions with Ruusaan. Obi-Wan gets flustered when his buir mentions this, and Jango wonders what in Sith Hells had happened while he was gone to make Obi-Wan settle down so much from his youth.

His newly-flat chest probably has something to do with it.

Perhaps it isn’t surprising, then, that Obi-Wan somehow wrangles Jango onto the squad of commandos headed for Concordia, Ruusaan smirking in delight as Jango resigns himself to suffering for the next tenday at least. Obi-Wan just claps him on the shoulder before disappearing into the halls of Jaster’s estate, and something in Jango aches at just how much of his armour is silver, at the sort of intention that went into an almost monochrome set of beskar’gam. Perhaps not much had actually changed, then.

He should have known any mission to Concordia would go to kriffing hell, especially with Duke Kryze ramping up his antagonism of Death Watch like it won’t be the Haat Mando’ade that pay the price.

What should have been a simple drop-off of medical supplies to a few refugee groups turns into a firefight with Kyr’tsad, Ruusaan missing her thigh guards and Jango down a blaster, and all three of them ducking into the first empty ship in the guest hangar in hopes of losing their tail.

Ruusaan slams the button for the door, Jango aiming his remaining blaster at the catwalk until they’re safely ensconced in the dark of some other Mando’s ship, straining their ears for the sound of anyone still following them. Pulling off her helmet, Ruusaan checks the lifesign reader she keeps in her gauntlet, and then grumbles something about interference that doesn’t fill Jango with confidence. He pulls up his comm to try and contact the nearest Haat Mando’ad, but doesn’t get the chance before a wet wheeze rattles the silence of the cargo bay and Ruusaan whips around with a horrified,

“Obi-Wan.”

She rushes to Obi-Wan’s side, where he leans one hand onto the nearest wall in an effort to keep upright, and oh, Jango had forgotten just how harrowing this was.

Ruusaan removes Obi-Wan’s helmet with practiced ease, setting it aside to pull a rag from one of his belt pouches, holding it to his bleeding nose as she tilts his head forward. Kriff, but Jango hasn’t seen Ruusaan need to use the Force on her foundling since Obi-Wan was a kid, though he knows it must have happened more often behind closed doors. The years since he’s had to stand by and watch Ruusaan restart Obi-Wan’s lungs has only made it that much harder to stomach.

Only Jaster knows the whole story of how Obi-Wan had ended up with Ruusaan, just what infection had festered in his lungs before she found him that had ruined him for the rest of his life. Jango has heard rumours that he had been on Melida/Daan during the civil war, that Ruusaan had taken a job from the Young and left with a sick foundling, that his system had been so damaged that he can’t handle a transplant. And Jango’s seen it before, Obi-Wan’s lungs suddenly failing and scaring the osik out of every Mando present, even if they had made note of the marker on his collar.

By some sort of Force miracle, Obi-Wan had been found by one of the only Force-sensitive Mando’ade that Jango has ever heard of, with just enough power to force her ad’s respiratory system back to rights, almost as if she had been meant to find him.

Obi-Wan coughs as Ruusaan presses one hand to the front of his chest, the other between his shoulder blades; Jango feels almost dizzy with something that feels too close to worry, the hair on his neck standing up at the swell of the Force in the tiny cargo bay.

“K’atini,” Ruusaan whispers, pressing her forehead to Obi-Wan’s temple with a touch of desperation. “K’atini, ad’ika, breathe.” A beat of tense quiet, but then—

“K’atini,” Obi-Wan wheezes back, and Jango lets out the breath he’d been holding. Ruusan laughs wetly, pulling back just enough to finish wiping under his nose, and brushes his hair back with her free hand; Jango feels a ping of jealousy, but forces it to the background, at least until they can get back to Mandalore.

“We need to get back to the ship,” Ruusaan says to Jango, all while Obi-Wan won’t meet his eye. “He’ll be fine for a while, but I can’t give him what oxygen he’s lost.”

Now this, this Jango can do. He can step up and lead, protect those that are his aliit in everything but name, because this is action, and not just standing there watching someone’s body give up on them. “You good to run?” Jango asks on external comm, Obi-Wan looking to his buir before giving a short nod. Ruusaan purses her lips, but nods as well and stoops to pick up her helmet.

“Not for long,” she warns, giving Obi-Wan his own before setting her hand back between his shoulderblades. “But the Force is telling me there’s no one outside; we move now.”

Jango trusts Obi-Wan to Ruusaan and swiftly leads the way back into the hangar, taking them through two halls and across a catwalk to get to their own ship’s berth; Obi-Wan punches in the key for the door, and lets Jango pull him up into the ship without complaint. Ruusaan is the best pilot out of the three of them, but Jango climbs into the cockpit to start the pre-flight sequence so she can get Obi-Wan set up in the single-bed medbay, because kriff if Jango would know where to start.

Ruusaan joins him in the cockpit just before take off, some of Duke Kryze leaking through in her stony expression as she drops into the open seat. “Jango,” she says, surprisingly calm for the situation, “please go make sure my utreekov of an ad doesn’t leave the medbay.”

Technically Ruusaan has been Haat Mando’ade longer than Jango, but she isn’t that much older than him, and he’s the son of the Mand’alor, so she shouldn’t be able to order him around like one of her foundlings. But Jango is also a warrior, and he knows when to pick his battles, so he simply nods and lets her get them out of the hangar.

The medbay is little bigger than a closet, and like most, there's just enough equipment for emergencies, but Ruusaan and Obi-Wan had retrofitted theirs to include a proper ventilator and oxygen tank, as well as a bacta vaporizer Jango has never seen outside of high end Kaledevan hospitals. Luckily Obi-Wan seems resigned to his fate, propped up in the little alcove bed and holding an oxygen mask over his face. He glances up, but only gives Jango a nod and an apologetic smile.

“How often does that happen?” Jango musters the courage to ask, leaning on the doorjamb. Obi-Wan laughs tiredly, his mask fogging as he thumps his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

“Not as much as before,” he says vaguely, his voice still a rasp. “The surgery helped.”

If he’s still dealing with kriffing dying on a monthly basis, Jango is thoroughly impressed he’s been able to serve so close to Jaster for so long, and kriff knows Jaster isn’t soft, so Jango knows whatever space Obi-Wan occupies with the Mand'alor is earned, no matter who his buir is. It seems Jango’s missed quite a lot, off exploring the stars.

Obi-Wan gets a little smile, then, dropping his hand but not opening his eyes. “If I recall... the last time we spoke alone like this—”

“You called me a laserbrain and told me my blaster was sub-par.”

He barks out a laugh that’s more like a cough, trying to work off his chest- and backplate; Jango watches him struggle for all of a moment before sighing and pushing the rest of the way into the room to help. Obi-Wan smiles all young and stupid up at him, and from this close, it lodges something in Jango’s throat.

Breathless, indeed.

Mando’a: beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy ures haal — breathless, lit. "without breath" ghet'bur — the collar piece of the chest plate on some beskar'gam, sitting over the shoulders and below the throat. a form of gorget. Haat Mando’ade — lit. “true children of Mandalore”, True Mandalorians buir — “parent”, gender neutral Kyr’tsad — Death Watch osik — impolite form of “dung”, shit ad — “child”, gender neutral ’ika — diminutive suffix, similar to the suffix “ita/o” in Spanish. generally used only by close family and friends utreekov — idiot, fool, lit. "empty head" K'atini — “it is only pain”, used in the context of “get up. Keep going. You can and you will survive this.” aliit — family, clan

(beskar’gam colour meanings here; Obi’s silver means seeking redemption, and yellow is for remembrance)

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rons-hermiones · 3 years ago

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Forty One

Narcissa jumps from the cot, the old springs squeaking loudly as she does so.

She throws her hands up in surrender, eyeing the infamous wizard and his wand carefully. “Please. Let me explain.”

Harry pushed his wand further so the tip brushed her nose, “Don’t you move!”

Narcissa stepped back and nodded. Not only was she in no place to do anything considering her wand was under the cot, but she also didn’t want any trouble.

“Ron, get up. Wake up.” He hissed to the ginger, nudging him, but being mindful of Hermione.

In response Weasley groaned and pulled Hermione closer.

Harry flicked his green eyes between Narcissa and his best mate, sighing at the git’s laziness. Seeming to have no other options, he smacks Ron on the shoulder and thankfully, he bolts right up.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He asks frantically, drawing his wand from underneath his pillow as his gaze instantly lingered on Hermione to make sure she was okay.

Seeing that Hermione didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain, he suddenly felt more relaxed, placing his wand back on the mattress.

“Don’t put it down.” Harry says sharply.

“What? Why?” Ron asks, confused as he feels Hermione begin to stir next to him.

“Narcissa Malfoy is in your bedroom that’s why!” The Chosen One exams.

“Oh.” He says casually, “I know.” Ron clarifies.

Harry’s brow furrows, “Then why are you not doing anything? I’ll stay here, you go get your Mum!” He says.

“You know I can hear you?” Narcissa asks from the corner of the room.

They ignore her.

“I’m not as daft as you might think. I wouldn’t let her in here if I thought she’d hurt Hermione.” He whispers bitterly, standing from the bed.

The dark haired boy’s mouth goes agape. “Hurt Hermione? Hurt- do you know who that is! Did she hex you or something?” He asks incredulously.

“Of course I do Harry.” Ron challenges fiercely. “Narcissa Malfoy isn’t here for-”

“C-Cissy.” Hermione grumbles sleepily upon hearing the name as her eyes flutter open.

Harry lowers his wand, looking at Ron with wide eyes. “Cissy?” He questions, finally putting it together.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you.” Ron mumbles.

Narcissa rushes to Hermione’s side, grabbing her hand and helping her sit up. “I’m here dear.” The woman says softly.

Her chin is quivering as she stares into the blue eyes, “R-real?”

Hermione’s doubts break Ron’s heart. The very same thing she asked him when she first woke up in St. Mungo’s. Clearly her grasp on reality is skewed, whether it’s because of the crucitaus curse, the months of torture leaving it’s mark on her, or the nightmares, no matter the case, it’s not fair to her.

“Yes, yes. I’m not going anywhere.” She promises, stroking her hair gently.

Harry looked at Ron, not knowing where to begin. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but knew the information he learned from The Daily Prophet this morning was more important.

Especially now.

Especially because of her.

“I’m guessing you haven’t been reading the papers.” Harry says shaikly, pulling the folded black and white pile from his back pocket.

He unrolls it and hands it to Ron first.

Missing, the headline reads.

Prominent witch Narcissa Malfoy, a part of the Noble House of Black has allegedly been missing from the Malfoy estate, sources say. There is speculation as to what happened. Some believe it to be the work of avid Muggleborn supporters starting a war on Purebloods, while some close to the family believe Narcissa herself may have run away.

Either way, Mrs. Malfoy has not been seen or heard from for a week. A ministry representative says that many have been working tirelessly to find her. Corban Yaxley, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stated the following “We will stop at nothing to bring her home to her husband and son. Narcissa is a friend of mine and a very respected woman amongst the wizarding world. For someone to jeopardize her status and safety would be foolish. If we discover this was a deliberate act, then people will surely get the war they’ve been talking about for years.”

If you have any information please owl the ministries emergency post.

In the middle of the page is a portrait of Narcissa Malfoy. One that seems to have been shot the same day as the picture that helped him find Hermione.

She looks stoic and cold. Nothing like how she is now, soothing the girl he loves.

“Shite.” Ron whispers.

This isn’t good for any of them, most of all Hermione.

Narcissa and Hermione glance at him curiously.

“Fuck!” He yells kicking his dresser as he drops the paper.

Cissy picks it up and scans the contents as Hermione joins from over her shoulder.

After a moment he hears the woman scoff, “Seriously? ‘Narcissa is a friend of mine’, please!” She sounds scandalized, “Yaxley is nothing but a no good, arse k-”

“As much as I’d love to discuss our hatred toward Voldemort supporters, we have a bit of a bigger problem on our hands, yeah?” Harry interrupts crossly.

Narcissa shuts her mouth tight, but scowls briefly at Potter’s tone. Ron ignores the pair and focuses his attention on Hermione.

She looks pale and her eyes are wide, gaze perfectly fixed on the front page of the paper. Ron’s large hand on her shoulder breaks her from the trance, making her jump.

“You alright love?” He whispers tenderly.

Her brown eyes are glossed over with tears.

Hermione is brilliant, Ron has always known as much and he didn’t think the past few months changed that, but in a way, that was sort of the problem.

If he, daft, brainless Ron Weasley easily deduced the subtext of such an article, he’s sure Hermione’s already come up with loads of theories on all the ways this news could go south for them, for her.

“Be-” She stops speaking, the name is bitter on her lips, “S-sister” Hermione said quietly to Narcissa, tears finally leaking from her eyes.

Instantly, she engulfs Hermione in her arms, a look of surprise on Harry’s face as she does so.

“I know dear.” She hushes her cries, “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

Harry eyes Ron suspiciously, before speaking, “I know this isn’t great news considering we’re harboring a missing person who happens to married to Voldemort’s more loyal supporter-”

“Harry.” Ron grumbles at his brashness.

“-But I don’t quite understand what this has got to do with Bellatrix.”

The name alone makes the brunette’s skin crawl.

“While some close to the family believe Narcissa herself may have run away.” Narcissa quotes.

“I still don’t-”

“My sister likes you, doesn’t she pet?” Hermione said before her mind could even comprehend the thought of Bellatrix’s words.

Harry stumbles back at the sudden change of her tone, at the clear spoken venomous words that leave his best friend's lips. Ron suddenly felt sick again, like he did the first time this happened. The only thing stopping him from running to the toilet is the look of utter fear and disgust across Hermione’s own face.

Who am I? What have I become? I didn’t even want to say that. I can’t control my own mind. It feels like someone- no, Bellatrix, scrambled every thought inside my head and is somehow still bending it to her own will. Maybe I am crazy, maybe I’m becoming a monster…

She covers her mouth instantly and begins sobbing into her hand, heaving for air.

Harry is still in stock, but Ron moves to comfort her, when a hand on his arm stops his movement.

“Go. Let me handle this.” Cissy whispered.

“I-” Ron stutters, unsure what to say.

“Take Harry outside, talk somewhere no one will hear. I know you’ve figured out by now that Bellatrix is bound to figure out what happened. Let me help Hermione. I’ve-” She swallows, “I’ve dealt with this before.” Ron can see the heartbreak in her own blue eyes.

“Please take care of her.” Ron struggles to get out after a moment.

“Of course.” Narcissa nods, “you have dreamless sleep?”

“First drawer on the side table.” He whispers, eyeing Hermione’s shaking form, using all his strength to not walk over there.

The blonde nods and begins to go to work.

“She has to see the healer in an hour, make sure-”

Harry pulls a reluctant Ron out the door, interrupting his attempts at stalling.

Molly of course questioned them, to which Harry said Hermione was resting so they were getting some fresh air. The matron didn’t ask anything further, but she did eye Ron longer than necessary as he stood silently.

Once they make it to the garden, it’s the Chosen One who breaks the silence.

“That’s happened before?” He whispers sadly as guilt seeps into every fiber of him.

“Once.” Ron replies, voice strained, “in the hospital. Dunno how many times before that only she would.” His gaze is focused on the ground as he speaks.

“Are you sure we can trust her?” The dark haired boy asks next, his green eyes trained on Ron’s attic window.

“Hermione does.” Is all he says back.

And that’s enough.

For both of them.

They fall into a tense silence again. Harry doesn’t push it because he can tell the ginger is trying to find the words to say something.

“Bellatrix. She knows.” Ron eventually whispers.

“Where Hermione is?” Harry asks fearfully.

He shakes his head, “No, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out she’s come here. Dumbledore did strengthen the wards, though.”

“Oh.”

“She figured out Narcissa is the one who got Hermione out of the Manor. If she finds Narcissa, she’ll find Hermione next. Doesn’t help either that the two of them are in the same place at the moment.”

“Malfoy’s Mum helped Hermione escape?” Harry questioned doubtfully.

Ron nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, “That’s why Hermione’s been calling for her. Narcissa kept her sane.” He paused, his blue eyes boring into Harry’s, “I reckon if it wasn’t for her Mione wouldn’t even be herself or she’d be de-” He choked on the word.

His best mate brought him into a fierce hug as he clapped his back. “That didn’t happen though.” Harry pulled away, catching his eyes, “alright?”

After a sniffle, Ron nodded, “alright.” he breathed shaikly.

“We’ll work it out, we always do.” Potter said next.

“Somehow.” Ron whispered.

“Ron,” Harry began seriously, “I reckon we need to tell The Order about Narcissa, they can move her to Grimmauld Place or something. They have safe houses, aurour’s, it may good, she could help us.”

“I know.” he breathes in response, “It’s just Hermione, she needs her right now, I don’t wanna-”

“We’ll tell Hermione first, see what she thinks, go from there.”

Weasley doesn’t answer, but offers a feeble nod.

They stand in silence for a few minutes. Nothing but the cool breeze ruffling the trees can be heard as they eye the still landscape of snow covered hills.

“There’s talk at Hogwarts you know.” Harry whispers when he can’t take the silence anymore, his thoughts building up.

“Talk?” Ron questions anxiously.

“Yeah I reckon that Lavender isn’t exactly over everything that went down. The rumors are even worse than they were before.”

He groans. Ron had way more important things to worry about then whatever shite Lavender Brown was spewing to the rest of Gryffindor. He couldn’t focus on that, not when the headline in The Daily Prophet this morning could jeopardize both his and Hermione's safety.

“What’s she saying now?” Ron asked hesitantly.

Harry scrubbed a hand down his face, “Rubbish really.” He tried nonchalantly, suddenly regretting bringing this up. However, the glare from the ginger probed him to go on. “It’s all bollocks. Lavender’s saying that you cheated on her and got Hermione pregnant so they kicked her out of Hogwarts. Some shite about how you went to set everything straight, that you didn’t want your pureblood values tarnished by muggle blood.”

And look, any other thoughts Ron had about Hermione being pregnant with his baby were admittedly delightful. Sure, it isn’t something most seventeen year old blokes dream about when they're still in school, not to mention the fact he hasn’t even kissed said woman of his dreams, but it helped him keep some hope on the harder nights.

That and thinking about the making of a hypothetical baby wasn’t one he’d shy away from…

However, Lavender Brown spreading these vicious rumors about Hermione, nevermind him, but his Hermione, well that wouldn’t do.

“Muggleborn blood.” Is all he could say to keep from exploding.

“What?” Harry asked bewildered.

“You said muggle blood, it would be Muggleborn blood, she is a witch.” He bit out, though Harry knew the anger wasn’t meant for him.

“Yeah, I know.” Harry whispered quietly, “That’s part of it, that Hermione was actually getting her magic you know from uh, sleeping with you, so Lavender reckons she’s not actually a witch, or at least not a powerful one.”

“That’s shite!” Ron boomed, causing a few birds in the nearby trees to fly away in a hurry, even the other boy flinched at the volume.

“Ginny hexed her pretty badly, has detention for the next two weeks. Says it was worth it though.”

Ron feels a swell of pride in his chest for his little sister.

“And what do the others say? What do you say?” He asked next, knowing how one rumor could be spun out of control.

“Ginny, Neville, and I just tell them Hermione’s had a family emergency, Ginny says you’re helping her out. It’s not the best solution considering it does sort of match Lavender’s story but most of Gryffindor knows she was desperate. The other houses don’t care, not really, even Slytherin’s been rather quiet with Malfoy not in the mood for his usual taunts.”

Then something dawns on Ron. It’s so sudden, it feels like someone’s flushing his veins with ice cold water and he’s just woken up. It shouldn’t be as shocking as it is, but for some reason it just doesn’t sit right with him.

Malfoy is still at Hogwarts.

He’s still attending lessons, going to quidditch matches and eating in the great hall.

His house, the very one he grew up in, is now the place Hermione dreads most in the world.

He knew she was there.

And yet, he’s still at Hogwarts.

“Ron?” Harry interrupts his thoughts, sensing his unease.

And no matter how badly he wanted to bring these concerns to light, he knew right now wasn;t the moment. They’d handle Narcissa, then Draco.

One Malfoy at a time.

“Yeah sorry, just thinking about how I carried on with Lavender so long. Embarrassing really.” It was half true, it wasn’t on the forefront of his mind, but definitely something he felt.

Harry wanted to agree with the utmost enthusiasm, but decided to spare Ron seeing his mood was already pretty down, so he settled for a mere nod.

“Well I reckon I should go get Hermione ready for her appointment. Dad is taking the car since she can’t floo or anything right now. Would you mind staying behind just to be sure my Mum doesn’t poke around? Tell her you have homework or something.” The ginger asks, already knowing Harry would agree. He’d do anything for Hermione.

“No problem mate.” He answers without hesitation.

“Thanks Harry.” He replies with a small grin, grateful for his friend now more than ever during times like these.

Obviously both of them would do anything to take back what happened on Christmas night, but they both knew that this whole thing brought them closer together.

Seeing as there was nothing else to say, Ron turned to head back into the house and did just as he said, prepare Hermione for the trip to Mungo’s.

“Ron.” Harry says, making him stop. His voice is soft, almost hesitant.

Weasley turns, eyes faced on Harry’s back who's staring at the rolling hills in the distance.

“When are you gonna tell her?” He asks, turning so his green eyes pierce, full of so much hope, peer into Rons.

Where was this even coming from? What did he mean?

“Well I thought we’d clear up the Narcissa business when we got-”

“No I mean-” he sighs, “when are you gonna tell Hermione you love her? That you’re in love with her.” He whispers.

Ron closes his eyes, “It wouldn’t be right.” He admits sadly.

Harry’s brow scrunches.

“Hermione’s nearly lost everything and though she’d never admit it, she needs the two of us right now. I’m not gonna take myself out of that equation because if I tell her and she doesn’t feel the same… well… I doubt she’d be comfortable around me.” Ron’s voice is hoarse and thick with tears he’s trying not to let fall.

“You’re right about one thing, Hermione would never admit it but she does need us.”

For a brief moment the two smile. Hermione, just as she was before, would never try and put her well being before the two of them. She would insist she’s fine and resist help. Not exactly a healthy way to cope, but it was so Hermione and it shows she’s still her.

“But while Hermione may just need me, the difference is she wants you Ron.”

The words go straight to his heart, making it beat at a rapid pace.

Harry, the very same Harry who wouldn’t know if someone was interested in him had they written it across their forehead was saying this.

The same Harry Potter who grew up with both him and Hermione. Who knew the two of them better than anyone else in this world.

His best mate, the sodding Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, who is absolute rubbish at emotions and feelings thinks that Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of Their Age, doesn’t only want Ron, but needs him.

Coming from anyone else, he’d brush it off, take it as pity.

Coming from someone who knows the both of them as well as he does, it’s different.

Coming from someone who he knows would rather hex their bollocks off then talk about this, well, it means something.

“She’s always just wanted you Ron.”

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ron x hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #Hermione Granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hp #sixth year

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sarahwyland · 4 years ago

Note

It’s sick that there’s a version that Nick walks out on his kid or where Sabrina refuses to let him see him or her. It’s an AU I know you like writing angst, but keep the characters in character from who they are based on. Deeply saddened and just offended. Nick wouldn’t walk out on his kid. Nor would Sabrina refuse to let him near said kid. If you’re going to write the single fic go with the other.

I’m sorry you feel this way and I’d like to talk a little more about this fic idea because of some of the comments I’ve received about it. This is lengthy, but I feel it’s important, as a writer and a person, to dig into this more.

I do like to write angst. I like to explore the darker parts of our characters. Because they all have very dark sides to them. That’s what drew me to Sabrina - the depth and dimension of some of these characters and the boldness of the stories they told, particularly in parts one and two.

We like to focus on the love Nick and Sabrina have for one another, the attraction, the connection. But Sabrina has faced loss, abandonment (who else’s heart broke when Edward said he didn’t want her?), and Nick has faced a world of trauma, shown a tendency to lean on alcohol and drugs to cope. Hell, he committed suicide. Some view that as a grand romantic Shakespearean gesture. I don’t. I view it as someone who a hurt and darkness they couldn’t conquer. Sadly, I think we all know people who have lost their lives because their internal struggles were just too much. My mom’s favorite cousin is one of those people. He suffered from deep depression and PTSD. My stepdad’s nephew is another. He was transgender in a family that “doesn’t believe in that.” I will go to the mat over mental health, over access to care, and the stigma around speaking up when you’re hurting. Advocating for mental health is a big part of my life you don’t necessarily see on Tumblr.

As a writer, those dark sides, those things we each have in us, no matter how sunshine and daisies we are, are what gives our characters dimension. It’s what gives them an emotional journey and makes the reader/viewer want to root for them - or hate them. It’s what makes you look at a Nick or a Sabrina or a Prudence or a Zelda and see yourself in them, the good and the bad. I won’t apologize for exploring these darker parts or for tossing around thoughts and ideas with my “internet friends” about stories I may or may not share.

If this version of this story ever sees the light of day, it will likely not be in this fandom. I only wrote a handful of pages, exploring as I tend to do. At this point, I’ll give the characters new identities and write a manuscript or a pilot that will either live on my laptop forever or land me a Netflix deal.

On a more personal note, I, like many of you who also write, tend to “write what I know.” I know a lot about addiction and mental illness, not as a professional, but as a person who has been deeply affected by it. I have anxiety that tends to manifest itself at the most inopportune times. I’ve had panic attacks that have put me in the ER. I’ve alluded to the suicides that stemmed from depression my family has experienced.

A lesser known but not secret fact about me is that my dad, who I love and adore and will swear hung the moon, is an alcoholic. He’s been in the hospital due to alcohol withdrawal twice in the last year. The first time he nearly died. Delirium tremens (DTs) is a terrifying thing to witness. I imagine it was even more terrifying for him to go through. Two weeks ago, while I was posting prompts and updating ‘The Hunted’ and lamenting how I’m going to shoot a short film in a pandemic with all the COVID rules, I was also fielding calls from the other side of the country from my dad’s doctors, giving me updates and discussing his treatment plan moving forward, AA meetings, psychiatrists... I also had to sign an advanced directive for him - just in case.

I see him struggle with his addiction. I also watched him stay sober for more than 20 years, only to relapse when he lost his sister to a nasty battle with cancer a few years ago and then struggle to regain that sobriety. He’s a good man who works hard, has done well for himself, loves his family, takes care of his 93 year old mother, calls me to ask if i’ve remembered to get my oil changed (the answer is always no), but he’s also an addict and he’s done things I would have never thought he’d do while under the influence. Even 20+ years sober, he was always an addict.

And so, this very long note to say this fic would have been bigger than “Nick left his pregnant girlfriend.” It would have been a story about a man who has struggled with addiction, who made mistakes, who still carries the love he had for a girl with him in hopes that he can redeem himself in her eyes and be the man he so wants to be, and about a girl who faced loss and heartache at a young age, who tried with all she had to help the man she loves, only to learn the very hard lesson that you can’t help someone who isn’t ready to be helped. It would have told a story about overcoming those obstacles and making a life from the ashes.

You probably didn’t bargain for this long of a response, probably didn’t bargain for an answer at all. But for reasons I can’t wrap my head around, this single mom fic idea that’s popped into my inbox a few times over the last year from various folks causes chaos (no pun intended) and I felt the need to explain the rational behind a story that I doubt I’ll ever publish in this format.

I always encourage sharing of opinions. But I also encourage the sharing to be done with grace and kindness and for criticism to be constructive, feedback helpful. My inbox is open.

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the-secret-garden-library · 5 years ago

Text

So, until I finally have a chance to sit down and actually write out a decent “Get to know me” post, I’ll add in little tidbits of info about myself (if I remember that is lol)

Or y’all can ask me questions, that’s okay too!

(((This was a piece that I had originally worked on for another blog that I had been a part of until the main writer and owner of the blog ended up chasing me off, which just helped to fuel this blog!)))

“I need me some jealous Bo! Please!!! Like His crush seems to be getting too close to whoever (Kuroo maybe) and he just gets incredibly jealous and they get to his place (make it college AU please) and kinda end up having kitchen sex ??? On the table??? Is that good ? Can you do that? Thank you in advance ❤

Oh, for the jealous/kitchen sex Bokuto ask, can you make the girl/reader small and chubby and cute ? (It's okay if you say no, just asking ^^)

Since this wasn’t quite specified for either headcanons or a scenario, I’m going to go ahead and do these as a headcanon set just so y’all can kinda get a taste for how I do NSFW just in case if y’all want to give any feedback on it!

Also, if there is ANYTHING similar to what happened last time when I posted something containing a “chubby” reader, you better believe that (REDACTED) and I will have a discussion about what to do with similar requests in the future.”

~ Jae ~

Bokuto Kotarou

For someone who is normally what people consider a major social butterfly who was fairly easygoing, you would never think that Bokuto was capable of having feelings of jealousy

At least that’s what you thought before the two of you started your friendship

Though you had to give him credit as he still acted the same as usual, still the energetic and bubbly guy you’ve known since freshman year of college

And with that comes with Bo’s friends, mainly Akaashi and especially Kuroo

You loved them both dearly, but holy crap they could be a little more than even you could handle at times

But you, Bo, and Kuroo were all basically joined at the hip since the moment y’all met

Even going far enough to rent out a three bedroom house near your college campus as a group of roommates

And initially this didn’t pose an issue to any of you, rather it seemed to be the perfect arrangement for basically the world’s greatest and longest sleepover lol

However even at times the best laid plans come to expect problems

Especially during the hellish Finals Week

As the three of you focused more on your studies and with different class times, it was rare to be able to find time for the three of you to hang out at the same time

And with Bokuto’s volleyball practice schedule (as he was an athletic scholarship recipient) it really didn’t permit him extra time to be at your shared apartment

So imagine his shock when he found you sitting up asleep on the couch, legs curled under you as Kuroo’s head used your plump thighs (HIS nap pillow mind you!)

All of you definitely know how Kuroo sleeps

He literally has tried to, unconsciously mind you, shove his face into your soft stomach like he would his own pillows, arms firmly wrapped around your waist

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time that this had happened

Now Bokuto knew for a fact that nothing was going on other than just that

But seeing the two of you situated like that while he wasn’t there had a tendency to play upon his mind and his self confidence quite a bit

And with the stress from practice and finals week, it ended up being a bit too much

So imagine your surprise when he basically hauls Kuroo off of you with a growl and all intents and purposes dumps him outside, in his tank top and boxers, the door like the kitty cat he is and locking the deadbolt

Bo’s back is still turned to you when you call him out, asking what’s going on

He’s completely still as you cautiously approach him

But before you can even touch him, he whirls around and grabs you, molding your small, soft body against his and seemingly squeezes you with every fiber of his being

That’s when you finally notice just how much his body is shaking, especially when he buries his face in your hair and attempts to cover you with as much /him/ as possible

Which frankly giving your small stature, isn’t all that hard to do

Finally coming to terms with the reason of his sudden outburst, you gently pull yourself just enough from his grasp so you can look at him properly

Can you say major big time pout much?

He’s definitely embarrassed from what you can tell by the look on his face but the gathering tears in the corner of his eyes stuns you quite a bit

You knew about Bokuto’s tendencies for major mood swings when his emotions tended to run wild when you became friends

That, and his tendency for extreme neediness when he happened to be in one of those moods

Luckily you’ve had enough practice with his moods that you already lead him to sit down at the kitchen table, always keeping a hand on him and murmuring words of affirmation and affection

However this time Bokuto seems different, your usual way of calming him down and bring around the usual Bo not working like usual

Before you can even blink though, he’s already pulled you into his lap and is holding you by your hips

You shiver as you feel Bokuto press his face into the base of your neck, nuzzling the soft, sensitive skin there.

“Hey Kou? What’s wrong?” you ask as you try to pull back from him so you could actually look him in the eye. You have to bite back a whimper as he refuses to look up and instead chooses to draw you even closer to him.

“Koutarou, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Adjusting yourself to sit better on his lap, you begin to lightly play with his hair. Playing turns into gentle kneading as you wait for him to open up to you, lightly working out the stress knots in his neck and upper back and you can feel him slowly start to relax. Suddenly you feel his lips moving against your neck and you jump.

Bokuto pulls just far enough away from your skin to be able to talk clearly.

“Sorry…” he murmurs, lifting his head to rest it on your shoulder and stares into the kitchen behind you.

“I… when I saw the two of you like that I…” he trails off as he tries to focus on his breathing to steady himself, “...I got jealous. Like, really, really jealous and I don’t know why and I know that it was stupid ‘cause it was just you and /Kuroo/ and that’s normal and I see it all the time but this time it just felt really weird and different and I didn’t like it, I /don’t/ like it.”

He has you in an iron grip at the moment, obviously intending for you to sit there and /stay/ there like his life (or pride) depended on it. Bokuto licks his lips, the motion making his light stubble scratching the sensitive skin on your neck and tickling you.

As you put the pieces together, you slowly come to a conclusion that up until this point you never thought that it would ever be possible but even still you just had to, /needed/ to check and see if it could be true.

“Kou, look at me” you ask, your racing heart attempting to break free from your chest, “Please Koutarou?”

Slowly he loosened up his grip on you and turned to face you but still his eyes refused to meet yours. And if the prominent rosy hue on his cheeks and still present pout were any sort of indicator, you figured that you knew exactly what the answer would be to your next question.

“Kou, when you said that you were jealous of Kuroo…” you hesitated, trying to find just the right words to say, “Could it be that you have a thing for me? Koutarou, do you have feelings for me?”

He flinched which only confirmed your suspicions but you still wanted to hear it from him.

His blush spread to his ears, shining brightly against his hair.

“I...uh… Yeah, yeah I do…”

“Real...really?” You managed to squeal out, suddenly feeling much warmer than you were just a moment ago, obviously whatever Bokuto had was quickly growing contagious.

“I...I, wow, I had no idea Kou…”

“Ah haha, really? I thought I… I mean that's okay! That was a good thing… I think?” He was beginning to quickly deflate, the melancholy starting to slowly crawl into his entire being.

Bokuto gently slipped you from his lap and into the chair next to his before jumping up, turned as if to go.

“I'm just… Sorry, I just remembered that I had somewhere i needed to do a...thing at. I've got to go”

Before he had a chance to turn an walk away, you jumped at him and grabbed his hand.

“Bo, wait!”

He barely had a chance to turn to look at you when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him down, pulling him into a somewhat messy and ill-aimed but heated kiss.

It was like a switch had flipped in Bokuto.

He growled, covering your hands with his much bigger ones as he began to kiss you back with an almost bruising fervor. A hand snaked into your hair and he pulled gently, easing your head back to expose your throat to him as he kissed his way down your jaw, nibbling down the expanse of your neck and leaving hot opened mouthed kisses along the way.

Bokuto backed you up against the kitchen table, reaching behind you to shove last night's attempts at homework and studying to the floor.

Suddenly he ended the kiss, pulling back to study you with those liquid honey eyes of his.

“Yes or no?”

“W-what?” You gasped out as you tried to clear your head a bit from the lust-driven fog in your mind.

He pulled back a little more out if your reach which made you suddenly feel just how warm he was from the sudden loss of his body heat.

“(...), I mean do you want this, want me as much as I want you, yes or no?” His eyes captured yours and the serious look on his face, the one very similar to his Ace face, helped to sober you up some more about what was happening.

But you have had enough already, the once seemingly firm flood gates had finally been allowed to burst open and had no chance of closing again.

“Fuck, Bo, I…” You looked at him, tossed all your cares for that day out the window, and threw your arms around his neck to press your body and your lips firmly against him.

You rolled your eyes when you felt him smile into the kiss and little puffs resembling his hooting escape, but even you had to smile in the end.

Bokuto picked you up to lay you down on the now clear table and started to work on your neck to leave his marks on your skin.

Somehow you had managed to sneak your hands up his chest and was currently in the process of undoing the buttons on his shirt. You ended up getting frustrated at the slow pace, especially with how Bokuto had started nipping and sucking at the base of your neck while one his thumbs rubbed circles into your hips, so you ripped open his shirt the rest of the way and sent buttons flying while you yanked the shirt off of him.

He was forced back a bit when you yanked the shirt off of him and the smouldering look he gave you only fanned the flames.

“Oh? Impatient are we?” Bokuto cocked an eyebrow at you, the huskiness of his voice making you shiver down to your toes.

You scoffed and shot him a look before you grabbed hold of the bottom of your shirt and yanked it over you head, throwing it...somewhere else where you knew that you were going to have to hunt for it later.

But at this moment in time, you could have cared less.

“Less talky, more nakey”, you ordered, hurrying to undo your pants and slide them down your legs, much to his very shocked and bright red reaction. You smirked at the very obvious reaction in his pants thanks to your much more freed choice of clothing options.

“U-uh, yeah… Yeah just give me a sex-...second!” Bokuto stuttered, his brain obviously going on autopilot and what little instinct that he had in that particular fun area. He kept fumbling with his belt buckle and had started to think about just trying to shove his pants down, belt and all.

That was before you decided to take pity on the poor guy and grabbed him by his belt. Your deft hands made quick work of undoing the cumbersome thing and pulled him flush to you, wrapping your legs around his hips to keep him there.

The low moan that slipped from his lips made you flush with desire, his hot and impossibly hard cock nestled snug against your core. His hips stuttered into yours as your fingers grazed the skin above his underwear before he, finally getting impatient, yanked them down and almost tripped in the process.

Which lead him to be face to face with your warm, pink cunt. And in that moment, Bokuto was convinced that it had even *winked* at him.

“Kou~”, You called out to him, trying to get his attention after he hadn’t moved for a few moments.

You braced yourself for what you were about to do.

You reclined back on the table, twisting just so in a way that you thought would look seductive and slowly opened your legs more, slipping a hand down to play with and and tease your pussy directly in front of his face.

He visibly gulped, his eyes flicking back and forth between your own gaze and what you hand was currently doing. He inched forward, falling to his knees almost like worship before you, and closely watched how you would touch yourself. One of his hands slowly came forward and you jumped at the first contact of his cool fingers on your burning hot flesh.

You jumped as soon as he started to explore you, your own hand coming back up to pinch and pull at your nipples while he began playing with your body.

Bokuto slid a hand down the outside of your leg, marveling at how soft your skin felt, pressing trailing kisses up the inside as he propped it up on his shoulder.

“Fuck you feel so good” he groaned as he massaged the back of your legs.

You blushed and squirmed at his kisses that did nothing but dumped fuel on the fire that was burning deep within your belly and making you even more impatient from how slow he was going.

“Bo, you know I’m really loving the fact that you’re worshipping me like you are, but for the love of god, hurry it up or I’m going to leave and finish on my own!” you howled.

Hooking the leg that he had been paying homage to around his back and pulling him closer to you, you showed him just how wet you had grown and he could see your sex quiver from desire and arousal.

“Awww… I wanted to savor it a little bit more” he said, a playful grin growing across his face, as he nuzzled into your thigh. However the look you gave him after that made up his mind for him and he started to run his thumbs up your slit exploring how wet you were before licking from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit moaning as he went.

You gasped as he flicked his tongue over your clit his fingers playing with your pussy as he explored you getting you opened up enough to be able to fit him in. Your hips jumped up as he slowly slid a finger and and looked for that small bundle of nerves before hitting it hard as he smashed his tongue against your clit. Your hand shot to his head your fingers and hands taking hold of his hair and pulling him even closer.

He worked at opening you up with more fingers, adding one after the other as soon as he felt that you were ready to take them all the while playing with that small bundle of nerves with the tips of his calloused fingers and fervently sucking and licking your clit. He could tell that you were getting close to something as your legs started twitching and your thighs started closing in on his head.

You were so close you could feel it coming quickly and you were almost there… and then he decided to pull away pushing your thighs apart and pushing them back towards you almost folding you completely in half.

“Kou!”, you cried out, wanting to yell something, anything!, at him you were so close and it made you so annoyed, but the look on his face as he looked down on you from where he was at that you knew that if it had continued he would have more than likely finish the same way without actually getting to the main event.

“I know ____, I know! But if I kept doing that I, uh…” Bokuto blushed, shuffling closer so you could see just how hard he was. A thick line of precum had beaded at the tip of his visibly throbbing cock and had begun to slowly roll down the underside of its thick head.

“O-oh…” you murmur, finally realizing why he had stopped. You took a good look at him, his thick cock hard enough to reach upwards, bobbing with his every move and every time his pulse jumped.

“Ah, yeah so…” you weren’t looking at him now, the realization of what was finally happening after so long hitting you like a semi.

Bokuto began to deflate a little, feeling a little lost as to what to do now, especially with you not looking at him directly.

But he was definitely surprised when you suddenly surged upwards to grab him by the arms and pull him down to properly lay on top of you. You snuck a peek, looking for his eyes for any sign of any doubt he may have had, but all you saw was his soft look that was slowly giving way as he leaned in to kiss you again.

Which you gratefully accepted, wrapping your arms around him as he moved in between your legs.

“Let me know if anything hurts, okay?” he murmured against your lips, reaching a hand down to grab hold of his cock to rub it against your clit and lower lips, coating himself in your slick.

You moaned into his mouth, squirming against him as he rocked against you, “Just go slow, okay?”

He nodded and clasped himself firmly in his hand, guiding it until it finally met your soaked hole and gently started to push in.

Bokuto gently rocked his hips until he was fully seated in you, pausing to catch his breath and stave of his orgasm from how incredible you felt while also giving you a chance to be able to get used to how thick he was.

You felt so incredibly full that you gasped and grasped at him and pulled you down til his face was resting in your neck.

“Bo…” you rasped out, feeling him suck lightly on your neck and massage your soft curves as he tried to get you to relax underneath him.

You shivered, his every movement that brushed against your body sent tremors down your spine, especially when his hips would stutter and area just below his pelvis started to mash itself snug against your clit and sent shocking bursts throughout your body.

“Kou, please, please move!” you began to beg as your hips started to push against his, seeking that delicious friction that he unknowingly was teasing you with, “Koutarou, I’m okay now, I promise”

“You sure? I don’t want to make you if you need more time…” he searched your face, still refusing to move.

“Bokuto Koutarou, if you don’t stop worrying about me so much and actually start making love to me I swear to god I’ll push you down and ride you as hard as I can”, you growled. You wrapped your legs around his waist and used him to pull yourself up against him to grind down on him to emphasize your point.

He gulped, but you could see that his pupils had blown, the black almost overtaking the gold as he pulled back to look at your pouting face.

“Gotta save that idea for later on apparently…” you giggled to yourself as you watched him raise himself up before pulling out of you.

The harmonious moans that were ripped out of your throats as he thrusted back into your warmth filled the nearly quiet apartment and spurred Bokuto on even more.

You gasped as he started up a steady pace and he lowered his head to take a bouncing nipple into his mouth and sucked.

“You feel so good ____, so wet and warm for me. I can feel you sucking me in” he moaned around your nipple, “You really wanted me and my cock that badly, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. Or at least if it was one, it was one that he knew the answer to already.

“Oh Kou, shut up and fuck me” you laughed, rolling your eyes as a smile crept upon your face.

“Yes ma’am!” he laughed and brought you in for another searing kiss. Bokuto slipped an arm behind you to pull you closer as his thrusts became more rhythmic, cradling you to his chest as he rested his face in your neck.

You arched against him, your breasts rubbing against his muscled chest, sending jolts of pleasure rushing through your body.

“Oh, f-fuck yeessss” you moaned as your hands slid down his broad back to grasp at his waist to help guide his movements. But mainly to get a few handfuls of that delicious looking backside of his, not that you’d tell anyone.

Yet.

He cursed when he felt your nails sink into his back and scratch as you let out the most sinfully dirty sounds after he happened to hit one spot in particular deep within you.

“Fuck, I want you to do that again” he choked into your skin, his warm breath on your neck making you burst into flames. His hips stuttered as he tried to find that one spot again, pushing harder as he felt your walls begin to quiver around his cock.

Bokuto adjusted his stance and, angling his hips to thrust down deeper into you, found that spot that made you mewl before.

You barely had time to suck in a breath before having it all tumble out of you as he started pounding away at that spot.

“AH! Ah a-ah Ko-Koutarou!” you screamed out, slowly losing your mind as he kept hitting spots that made your legs quake, “More! I need you, Kou, please, please give me more!”

“Fuck, don’t say that or I’m not going to be able to last much longer” he pleaded, his hips slamming into you now as he mashed his thumb against your clit and jerkily swirled the rough pad of his thumb around it. Bokuto was hunched over you, your arms still barely able to reach the back of his neck to pull him in for another bruising kiss, your breasts distracting him with their bouncing.

Hot, open mouthed kisses made your mind hazy and you could feel your body start to tighten, your legs wrapping around his waist and locking behind him. You could feel the pull from before rushing in, making you taut and tense.

And then he hit that one spot, rubbed your clit the right way…

And suddenly you were floating.

Bokuto heard you let out a small gasp before your pussy seized his cock and, making a sound like a screech owl , thrusting once, twice before crushing you into him before snapping. His hips rocked against yours as he came, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep into you.

He said your name like a prayer, smothering you in kisses as the two of you came down from your individual highs.

After a few minutes the two of you look at each other, still bashful, but soon started to laugh.

“Did you seriously do that?!?” you giggled, pushing back the sweat drenched hair from his forehead to look at him better.

“I didn’t do anything!” he protested, his pretend pout losing the battle against the massive grin that was currently at home there.

“Mmhmm, suuure you didn’t” still giggling, you pulled him down into another, sweeter, kiss and to enjoy the moment.

Until you realized that you two were still on the kitchen table.

That you had just had sex on for the first time.

The communal table.

Oops.

“Alright big guy, you’ve got to get off me” patting his shoulder to get him to move so you could get up, “We’ve got to get this mess cleaned up”.

Or so you thought.

“Alright, alright. I’ll help you pick things up.”

You really should have paid more attention to what he was doing exactly.

The next thing you knew, you were being slung over his shoulders and carted off back towards his bedroom with him gleefully groping your ass.

“KOU!” you squealed, trying to sound like you were mad at his antics but you knew that he had you figured out when you felt him turning his head to bite the skin of your lower hip.

He dumped you unceremoniously on his bed before shutting the door and returning to finish his promise from before.

“Now…” he purred, pulling you to the edge of the mattress before sinking down onto his knees and pulling your legs apart, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt oozing with his cum.

“Where were we?”

Meanwhile, Kuroo was still sitting outside in his underwear, luckily having the chance to snag his phone before the door had been shut on him.

“About fucking time, better damn make it count stupid owl” he muttered, scrolling through his phone as he got comfy on the cold tile.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu to the top #bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #fukurodani #citrus

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16ruedelaverrerie · 5 years ago

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It makes so much more sense to answer this privately, but this message is still one of the funniest things I’ve seen over the last six months, so I need to enshrine it in visible form. @king-kodi I hope you figured out the answer in these SIX MONTHS SINCE YOU MESSAGED ME, I’m sorry! This account is still active, in the way that a lizard that does not move for 10 years is still alive.

The answer, belatedly, is that the little shit cat in question (when not hungry or ill) decides whether it wants to go for a stroll or not. Sometimes it just wants to chat instead of going for a stroll, but them’s the breaks, all control is an illusion and the tiny virtual piece of shit must be left to its own devices to do what it wishes. I love this game. All cats are perfect, even the ones that aren’t real.

ANON!!! YES!!!!! Wow wait first of all can I express how touched I am that you remembered having been in previous disbelief over people liking Theon Greyjoy, then after you started reading the books you came back to this blog to let me know about your changing thoughts THAT IS THE KIND OF ENGAGEMENT THAT I AS AN EDUCATOR CAN ONLY DREAM ABOUT AND WOULD NOT EVEN DEMAND FROM MY STUDENTS

Truly it is a no-good life for Theon, when the only friends and family he has are a bunch of people who are technically licensed to execute him WITH THE SWORD THEY MAKE HIM CARRY AROUND FOR OTHER BEHEADINGS fkl;dhgk and the whole “the Starks are such lovely people” angle that the show takes most of the time... really fails to shed adequate light on how there are so many bigger issues here than individuals being decent individuals! ANON... THEON JUST WANTED TO GO HOME, ANON. HE JUST COULDN’T FIGURE OUT WHERE THAT WAS. ANON HOLD MY HAND.

Oooo did you get around to it? How did it turn out?? I feel like Markus was also working on his own version of a Les Mis crossover! This is always the case when I think about crossovers or AUs of any kind, but what delights me the most tends to be moments that crack me up and don’t necessarily have any staying power as an extended parallel-- like, this is an AU and not a crossover, but just the thought of Javert infiltrating the barricades with a beanie and a wide stance because that’s what he thinks insurgents look like....................................... that is so fucking funny to me.............

This is so kind, thank you! I hope you are taking care of yourself too! All these messages are from a thousand years ago so “taking care of yourself” had somewhat less urgency and gravity then, but it is important to take care of yourself regardless of circumstances. I’m doing okay, overall. Actually my work and life situation are a bit unorthodox at the moment, but in a way that is very conducive to leading a hermit-like existence, so at least in that way I am fortunately equipped to weather these times. Seriously though! I hope you are all taking care of yourselves!

Thank you very much! I think it’s always easier to recognize and define other people’s styles than your own, but I have an especially hard time figuring out what my ~art~ ever is, so it’s very generous of you to say so. Because of my aforementioned unorthodox work and life situation, I find myself with no more leisure time right now than I did in the before, but I am trying to brush up on very basic art stuff a little bit! I feel really unsteady with art most of the time because I don’t have solid basics, so I’m hoping this will ameliorate some of my THIS LOOKS WRONG BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY problems u__u

~*~THE CONTINUATION LIVES IN YOUR HEART~*~ wow what a cop-out answer. This is one of those things that HAUNTS ME anon! I remain a “never say never” person at heart so I am still refusing to say that there won’t be more comics in that universe, but... in all honesty, it’s been so long since the first one that all the ideas and jokes I had related to it have become... well, I’ve thought about them so much that I’ve become unable to tell whether they’re funny at all, is what has happened. I mean really! Chivalry Comics was posted more than SIX YEARS AGO! I SHOULD HAVE MADE SOMETHING LONG BEFORE THIS POINT, I’VE FUCKED IT UP

And yet, I remain a “never say never” person at heart. One day, anon! One of these godforsaken days.

Ah thank you for this annual message! And for the NAKED REMINDER OF HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN SINCE I HAVE ANSWERED MESSAGES... I am deeply ashamed of this, but some amount of self-abasement builds character.

H-HAPPY NEW YEAR, DEAR ANON! I know, once again, I am rubbing this timestamp into my face while demanding of myself, LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE, YOU HIDEOUS MISCREANT, but also that does mean that your message has been warming my inbox for the last three+ months! That’s why I take so long to answer these, so that whenever I feel a pang of guilt for not having gotten to them yet, I also at least get to feel a corresponding pang of gratefulness and joy at how nice the message is.

I so vividly remember reading so many instances of Nines noticing Gavin’s core temperature spike that I was like “this is a good trope and I am into it, but also I’ve never seen this much talk of core temperatures outside of, like, natural family planning discussion forums” ON THE OTHER HAND WHY HAVE I EVER SPENT ANY TIME ON NATURAL FAMILY PLANNING DISCUSSION FORUMS????

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL

AND ALSO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES!

#askbox #theon greyjoy #asoiaf #game of thrones #detroit become human #les miserables #chivalry comics

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chrisbbaegopayo · 5 years ago

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Hold Your Breath (Stray Kids: Stalker AU) ➻ Chapter 3 (part 1)

....

Genre: Thriller, Angst, Gore, Mystery, Suspense Characters: All of Stray Kids, reader, OCs. Word Count: 1.2k Warning: This story will contain elements of gore, on- and off-screen abuse, torture, mental illness, and stalking. It will feature themes that are not suitable for all ages, readers discretion is advised. Each chapter will have its own specific warning.

Sorry for the short post. I’ve managed to hit a very bad case of writer’s block, as well as other things, more on that below. (updates will now be once every two weeks)

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She and Hyunjin ended up getting along really well in class, as they introduced themselves in the timeframe that the professor had given them. She learned that he had been here to earn himself a bachelor’s degree in literature, much like his parents wanted. He had been a pretty hardworking student and liked to participate in extra-curricular activities, although he didn’t really elaborate on which clubs he had joined since attending the university.

It had come to a surprise, then, that he knew who she was. It was kind of strange for her to introduce herself to someone who had already know of her—he did say that he knew of her and knew who she was, but never made an attempt to say anything to her, which, to her, was understandable. University could be somewhat of an intimidating place. And Hyunjin, who kept to himself during classes unless he was asked to participate in group work or class discussions, was naturally relatively inside his head.

He had a small circle of friends, she learned, of which he had dropped after coming to this university. He told her that he stayed in touch with most of them through social media and that he had missed them.

They didn’t manage to get too deep into their conversation, although he did tell her that he was in a few of her classes back in first and second year, and much of the reason of keeping to himself most of the time didn’t say anything to her, as they were practically strangers.

Professor Lee stopped the discussion then and then began his first lecture. Much of it had to do with what goals to set at the beginning of the semester, what they would be covering throughout the semester, as well as the many assignments they were expected to do and their due dates that accompanied these assignments. Much to her displeasure, every week, there would be a test that summarized the terms they learned the week before, just to keep them on their toes, apparently. This was probably the most for her, as her memorization skills weren’t the best…

…this would also mean that she would have to do a lot of reading. And note-taking. As much as she enjoyed reading, the mind-numbing technical terms might just defeat her.

However, the silver lining was that there would be some hands-on case studies and there might be field trips planned in the course, although the professor did not specifically say if they were definitely included. As for these field trips, they were still in the process of negotiating some plan, of which professor Lee did not specify.

They also had to write two essays throughout the semester. Great.

As the professor started lecturing, he covered what the meaning of crime was, what each term meant, and how it integrated into society on a very base level. As for the rest of the two-hour lecture, Professor Lee merely just taught through most of the time with interesting examples and various experiences that he had encountered. He made things interesting, and the majority of the class was completely engrossed. The mid-lecture break had gone by and soon, had buzzed by without much of a fuss.

“All right, remember, class, make sure to read up on chapter 2, pages 60 through to 90! You will be expected to go through it with your teaching assistant in your tutorial later,” Professor Lee said. “Feel free to visit during my office hours should you have any questions or problems regarding class! See you next week!”

She placed her notebook in her bag and looked over at Hyunjin, who looked rather pleased with the class. “Tutorial, huh?”

He nodded and leaned back against his chair. “Yeah, it should be exciting. At least the professor was interesting, hopefully, the teacher assistant will be just as interesting. When do you have yours?”

She pulled up her schedule, and scanned it, trying to figure out which day she had her tutorial. Turned out that she had her tutorial at 11:30 a.m. in two days with a person named F. Lee. And upon showing it to Hyunjin, she was surprised to learn that he also shared the same tutorial. It seemed like a pretty pleasant surprise, she thought. To be in the same class and tutorial—it was as though something was being conveyed to her through this strange arrangement. Or not. It just seemed like a pretty interesting coincidence.

But life didn’t have coincidences, did they?

Regardless, the two left the lecture room and went their separate ways after swapping numbers.

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She had never been so glad to be home. After that stalker fiasco earlier on in the day, she was ready to retire to bed. However, she cracked open the textbook she was required to read for the class and sat at her desk, trying to make some from sense from the lectures. She got a few paragraphs into the reading when her phone buzzed with a text message.

>> Hey I’ve got food Open up OMG bless thank you <<

Jisung seemed to know exactly when was hungry because her stomach grumbled a bit. She went downstairs, and as soon as she got to the door, the doorbell rang, and she opened the door, letting her best friend in.

“You always come at the best time, ever,” she said, ushering him into the house. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Seriously.”

He laughed. “That’s why I’m your best friend, right?”

The two of them ate and chatted about their day and by the time they finished their food, Jisung had gotten up to toss the containers into the recycling bin.

She stared at her phone for the time being and sighed. She should go back to reading, but she really didn’t want to do any reading that night. It seemed like a great time to just lay back and chill for a little longer until it was time for her to go to bed.

It was still relatively early in the evening—or late afternoon, and perhaps she could just put her feet up and catch up later on.

But then her mind wandered off to the letter she got—it was unsettling.

“Jisung?”

He made a noise of acknowledgment, while still staring at his phone.

“I got another letter.”

His fingers that were once tapping away, seemingly mid-text stopped. He placed his phone down and faced her. “What did it say?”

“It was...something like ‘a new semester will start new things’ or something...and then something about more gifts to come,” she recalled.

Something about Jisung’s expression worried her.

“Did you file the complaint to the school like I said?” He asked.

She shook her head, but then upon seeing his concerned expression deepen, she held up her hands and reassured him that she was going to file it in the upcoming days.

“I haven’t exactly had time, you know, I promise I will—I’ll even let you know! I promise!”

He sighed, and with a heavy tone, he said, “fine, as long as you know.”

She was about to say something when he leaned over and put his hand atop her head, almost in a maternal gesture.

“I’m just really worried about you, you know? These are just some precautions that you have to take, okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, thank you, Jisung, you’re always looking out for me...”

He chuckled, “that’s what I’m here for, remember?”

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Sorry about the lack of updates lately. I’ve managed to land myself in a really deep ditch called writer’s block, and it’s honestly really draining to write when my motivation is zero most of the time. Sorry, it’s been pretty hard most of the time, especially balancing both work and creative writing at the same time. I do writing for my day job too, and every day I’ve pretty much felt like I’ve exhausted most of my writing into work, and the creative juices are NOT flowing into what should belong to creative writing. Hashtag excuses lol.

However, I did find a good way to keep my motivation up—the story is planned out, I know what’s going to happen in the bigger picture, but the details aren’t exactly set. Sometimes if I see an opportunity to implement new ideas, I will, such as relationships between certain characters and their history and such. I do have several pages of notes of the character’s relationships and backstories.

I will be publishing their backstories starting with Hyunjin, and I think it will make for interesting future plot segments.

As well, I will be changing the updates to every two weeks until I can get out of this really bad writer’s block.

Whether or not people like to read it or not, I’ll just keep on writing anyway because I genuinely do love creative writing. As well, I have been planning this story for wayyyy too long and even though my execution of the story might be slow and not what my mind wants me to write, I think I want to continue regardless. I’m just really grateful for the readers that I do have, and appreciate the time you invest in my story. Please feel free to poke me/talk to me about the story and let me know what you think of it. I know I haven’t advanced enough into the story for people have a true understanding or grasp of it, but I will be publishing the character’s relationships with each other and how they’re all connected. Because they are.

If I have any jumping tense problem—I’m sorry, I do try my best to catch them while writing, and I will improve and do my best not to disappoint too much.

Thank you! c:

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terra-writes · 6 years ago

Text

Nature’s Shackles (Fenris x Female!Hawke Hanahaki Disease AU) Part 2

So I had this done at the same time as part one and I was going to space these out by a week then ended up forgetting about this with everything picking up in my semester. So belated but I hope you guys enjoy! Idk when part 3 will be out but hopefully soon as my semester ends next week and I’ll have more time to write!

Want to start from the beginning? Tumblr likes to hide posts that link to other ones from the search now, but click on the “nature’s shackles” tag below to filter stuff for this story!

Word Count: 3,600 words even I am proud of this lol

Warnings: Angst, blood will be coughed up with the petals in some cases, but it gets progressively worse, canon-typical violence and gore

The last few rays were just hanging onto the horizon by the time Fenris stood in front of the large oak doors that marked the entrance to Anders’ clinic. He looked above to the lantern, feeling the corners of his mouth turn down when he saw the flickering tips of the flame inside. Part of him had been hoping that Anders would have already closed down for the night by the time he arrived, and he could use the excuse to retreat back home and figure out some other method for himself.

He raised his fist to the wood, hesitated, and lowered it again. He cursed himself within his own mind. Right now, his biggest hindrance wasn’t the flowers suffocating him within his lungs, but his own pride at asking for help. Especially from Anders. As much as he loathed the thought of showing weakness to an Abomination, even he had to admit that this problem was bigger than his own pride. So why can’t I just knock on the damn door? He let out a groan of frustration aimed at himself and without thinking, hit his fist against the door to vent some of it. He hadn’t even realized what he did until he heard a muffled call from inside the clinic.

“It’s open come in!” He stared at where his fist was still against the worn oak in bewilderment. I guess that works, he thought. He took one last breath to steady himself and attempt to calm the last of his lingering anxiety that seemed to spark back up at the sound of Anders’ call. As he stepped in, his nose was immediately assaulted by the overwhelming smell of different herbs. It almost overwhelmed him, and he had to fight against the urge to cough lest he give himself away barely three steps past the door. As he looked around at the empty cots lining either side of the clinic walls, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the mage was currently turned with his back to the elf, clearly focused on the task before him. He immediately regretted that deep breath though, as the strong odor of the clinic only aggravated his lungs even more. “I’ll be with you in just a moment, I need to finish up with this patient first.”

Fenris figured it was for the best if he just kept quiet for the time being, There was no use to potentially risk injuring the man in front of the mage by tipping him off to who exactly had just stepped into the clinic. In the meantime, Fenris tried not to focus too much on the uncharacteristically vacant room. He didn’t know if it would be better or worse for him knowing that it would just be him and Anders to discuss things.

Briefly, he considered saying “fuck this” and bolting out the door, but before it could become anything more than a barely entertained thought, Anders had finished with his current charge, turning around to face him. “Sorry about the wait, now what can I help you wi- Fenris?”

Under different circumstances, the sound of the pure bewilderment on both his face and in his voice would have been hilarious to him. But Alas, as his business currently hinged on keeping Anders in a helpful mood, he would have to keep any antagonistic comments to himself.

On second thought, maybe just one would make him feel better about all of this.

“Is that meant to be a serious question? Are you perhaps the one in need of a checkup, ma-” He stopped himself before he could finish calling him his usual name. It wouldn’t work out well for him to piss Anders off to much right now.

Anders raised his brow, clearly noticing how Fenris had stopped himself, but remained quiet. The healer was still thrown off by Fenris’ sudden presence, but he managed to at least gain some measure of composure over his being. “I know Hawke said she was going to try and get you to come down, but I thought it was going to end with her physically dragging you down here like usual.” There was a stretch of silence between them, each person staring at the other in different stages of disbelief that the events before them were actually unfolding. When Fenris still stood unmoving, Anders gave him a break. “I guess you’re worse off than any of us realized if you’re here now on your own.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, take a seat so I can get this over with.”

In some corner of his mind, Fenris realized that perhaps this was the longest the two of them had gone without outwardly insulting each other, leaving only an uncomfortable and unsure awkwardness keeping them at bay. When he still hadn’t moved, Anders cleared his throat sending a slight twinge of panic through him. Fenris hadn’t actually thought about what he would say to the mage once he got here. His thoughts scattered to the wind as he desperately tried to scrounge up any excuse he could. Fenris didn’t want to admit to his condition, especially to someone like the Abomination before him. No doubt Anders would lord it over him, possibly even go to Hawke about it with a claim that fighting with such a condition would only put her and everyone around him in danger. Anything to keep him out of the picture so he had a clear shot to winning her heart. It was no secret that Anders had fallen for their companion and leader, and even though she had repeatedly turned down his advances he still seemed adamant at trying to win her over when he could.

The thought of the Abomination putting his hands on her in that way sent his blood boiling, but he had to force himself to calm down and swallow the bitter remark that tried to claw its way past his lips. He still needed help.

Fenris took a couple steps words one of the cots, still trying to come up with an excuse when he paused, running his tongue over his suddenly dry lips as he prepared to try the first one his mind supplied. Hopefully, Anders would take the lie at face value, though even to Fenris it sounded like more than a longshot.

“Actually-” He had to pause a moment to try and stifle the urge to cough. “I was not being truthful when I told Hawke that I was ill.”

“Oh?” He could hear Anders’ voice over his shoulder and hear him subtly reach for his staff nearby. Figures the mage would think that Fenris came here to kill him, it just went to show how much of a fool Anders was in his mind. “Then why are you here, especially of your own accord?”

“I require your aid in a… somewhat sensitive matter.” Fenris tried not to cringe at the understatement as he turned back around to face Anders.

“Really? If you don’t need healing couldn’t you ask literally anyone else who likes you a lot more than I do?” Anders was trying to bait him, trying to bring them both into an argument that would make this situation a lot more bearable and familiar to the both of them. But Fenris couldn’t let himself fall into that trap. He hadn’t gotten what he came here for yet.

“I may not be ill, but what I require is medical in nature, leaving you as my only option.” He hated admitting that he needed Anders, but Fenris had no other choice in this moment.

He could tell the mage was still unsure, Maker, Fenris was too but he couldn’t back away now. “Okay… so what is so important about this matter that you lied to Hawke and avoided everyone for three weeks now?” Anders’ eyes were scanning over every inch of him, trying to detect any hint of injury on his person. He would be looking for a long time, as his only problem was currently still aggravating the inside of his lungs. As such Fenris let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, then immediately wished he hadn’t when the itch inside his lungs only grew stronger

“I have an… acquaintance who has enlisted my help to gather information.”

“Wait you actually have friends? Other than Hawke? Color me surprised.” Fenris felt his eye twitch, but with sheer will he bit back his venomous retort in favor of getting this over with as soon as he could.

“Yes I do indeed have other ‘friends.’ But as I was trying to say, this individual has come down with a particular condition and so they have requested my help in gathering information so as not to draw attention to themselves.”

“Okay fine, what has your ‘friend’ come down with?” Anders relented with a sigh, dropping his defensive stance a tad, but still on edge in case Fenris made a move. Fenris had to fight not to roll his eyes at the gesture.

“They have come down with Hanahaki Disease. I am… familiar with how it happens and works but… that is the extent of my knowledge. I only know how it comes to be and how it kills,” Fenris had to suppress a shudder at the memories of lifeless eyes and pools of blood, “but nothing in the way of cures or treatments.” Fenris grimaced through his confession. He hated admitting to his own shortcomings, especially in front of someone like Anders, but he needed to know if he had any chance.

He wasn’t expecting Anders’ eyes to go as wide as they did. “Are you sure it’s Hanahaki?” Irked, Fenris didn’t try to stop the annoyed huff that left him. Instead, he moved his arm to reach into one of the pouches on his belt. He saw Anders tense for a brief moment, the tinest flicker of gathered magic pulling at his markings before the mage stilled, mouth dropped agape at the petals in his upturned palm. It was an accident that Fenris had any petals on him in the first place. In his haste to get to Darktown and get this meeting over with, he had failed to realize the few petals which had gotten caught on his armor until he was already too far away to turn back. Now however, they would prove useful in helping Fenris sell his own lie.

The mage grabbed the petals from his palm, inspecting them with and ever-growing grave expression as he turned them over in his fingers with the upmost care. “There flower petals appear legitimate.” Fenris tried not to be offended by that comment. “Unfortunately, there’s only two ‘cures’ that are known.”

“And they are?” Fenris felt his anxiety grow, he didn’t like the sound of being limited to two options, he already had a feeling what the first one was. He tried not to give in to the urge to shift on his feet or express how he felt about the matter, Anders didn’t need any hints to the real patient of this visit.

“The best method is for the person who the afflicted loves, to return their feelings. If the love is requited, the flowers perish and are coughed up without injury or much fuss. Of course, that’s the best-case scenario, though, not the one that always ends up happening.” A pause as Anders looked up on him, his expression wary. “I don’t think your friend will like the other option though.” His expression mournful, as if the mage was recalling a memory, or maybe something else, Fenris couldn’t be sure. At Fenris’ raised brow, he continued with a deep breath. “The flowers can be removed, but the process isn’t the easiest or most pleasant.”

“How?” By now, Fenris was growing ever more impatient. He needed answers.

By the grimace that flashed across Ander’s face, Fenris had a very good inkling of exactly how the flowers were removed. His markings began to thrum with life at the thought of the procedure being done on him, but he needed to hear the mage say it.

“By magic, specifically blood magic. There’s a ritual that can be preformed by a mage to remove the flowers from the individual’s lungs. The victim will be cured, and they won’t ever be in danger of contracting the disease again.” Anders cleared his throat, and Fenris could sense the unsaid “but” hanging over his words.

“What else are you not telling me?” Fenris’ words carried a but of the frustration he was feeling. He didn’t have the time for Anders to keep pausing like this. “Just spit it out! Every moment I waste here is another moment my friend draws nearer to their death.”

The mage at least had the decency to look apologetic. “Right, sorry. The person will be safe from ever getting Hanahaki again, but it’ll cost them their ability to feel love for the rest of their life. I actually hear that option is quite popular in Tevinter, especially within the Magisterium.”

Fenris gave a brief nod. “Magisters only care about powerful magical bloodlines. And a Magister would rather get rid of anything that could be used as an obstacle between them and the power they crave.” He let himself spit the words out, venting some of his anxiety and fear into something he could better manage, like anger. There was another awkward pause between them. Neither one of them were used to things being this agreeable whenever the two of them were in each other’s company. Both were unsure of how to treat the other when there was no hostility being thrown back and forth. “Is there anything in the way of treatments to lessen the effects in the meantime?”

“Fortunately, yes.” Anders turned around, his awkwardness shrugged off as he took to his usual working persona. He moved with a single-minded focus as he began to rifle through the cabinets that lined the back wall of the clinic, pulling jar after jar of dried and undried herbs from their shelves.

Fenris allowed himself a small sigh of relief now that he was out of the mage’s clinical gaze. Both were silent as Anders continued to work, his brow creasing in concentration as he mixed herb after herb. Fenris didn’t dare creep any closer to the mage while he worked, but he did try to sneak glances past the mage’s shoulders at the herbs he was using.

Before long, Anders turned back around. He wore a satisfied smile as he held a small vial of bright blue liquid in one hand, a worn satchel just behind him on the counter. The liquid looked vaguely similar to the lyrium potions Hawke and co. carried around, but the lack of pull at his own markings hinted that there was none to be found within. “This potion should help your friend out.” At Fenris’ skeptical gaze, he continued, “It’ll temporarily dull the user’s emotions, slowing down the progression of the disease.”

Perfect, exactly what he came for. Fenris reached out to grab the vial from Anders but it was pulled away before the tips of his fingers could do more than just graze the glass.

“Remember that this is not a permanent solution.” Anders had fixed him with a stern look, but it wasn’t one born of malice, it held the connotations more akin of a doctor talking to a stubborn patient. “This is only a treatment meant to delay the inevitable. The only way to cure this is one of the two ways I mentioned.”

Fenris finally let his irritation show. Now that he had what he came here for, he didn’t have to be as civil, at least in his mind. “I am not such an idiot that I don’t know what the word ‘treatment’ means nor that I have forgotten what you said earlier already.” He made sure to stand tall as he said it, squaring his shoulders like it was a challenge.

Rising to the bait like Fenris hoped he would, Anders reacted much the same. “Don’t forget that I’m the one helping you out here. There’s no reason to go biting my head off for it. Or would you rather your friend go without because you pissed off the healer?” Despite their small standoff, Fenris could see some sort of ease creep back into the mage’s posture, most likely relived that the two of them were back in familiar standings with one another. Fenris only gave a grunt in response, letting go of some of his anxiety. Insults he could deal with any day.

“I should figure that it would be in that nature of an abomination to refuse treatment on account of one individual’s attitude.” Fenris let the corner of his mouth curl upwards into a smirk.

The mage rolled his eyes, putting the vial in the satchel with what Fenris presumed to be others. “These will only work for a few hours, and you shouldn’t have your friend drink more than one in a day, otherwise it could risk speeding up the process instead. I’ve made enough to last for a few weeks. Come back when they’re gone if things still haven’t fixed themselves by then. Now, this has been pleasant and all, but please get the hell out of my clinic.”

Fenris took the worn leather satchel from the healer with a surprising amount of care in Anders’ eyes, securing it around his person. There was another brief awkward pause where both expected the other to say something, though neither knew what. When it was clear that nothing would be, Fenris just gave a curt nod and went for the door, trying not to show his desire to leave in his steps. Before he could slip out the door, he paused, unsure with his next words but feeling like they needed to be said, personal opinions aside. “Anders…” Fenris’ voice was low, unsure. The name felt wrong, unpleasant in a foreign way on his tongue, “Thank you.” Okay, maybe that felt even more wrong than using his name.

Fenris could almost feel the cringe at his unexpected display of gratitude from the other end of the clinic. “You’re… welcome? And Fenris? I’m sorry.”

Fenris had already been hallway through the door when Anders had called his name. He looked over his shoulder, meeting the mage’s gaze head on with his own. Anders was looking at him in a way that sent alarm bells tolling in his mind. The way it was voiced, the look that was being given to him now, it was as though the mage was speaking the apology to him instead as though for him to pass on. Was it possible that the Abomination had seen through his lie the entire time? No, there was no real reason to disbelieve the story that Fenris had voiced. Choosing to live in his relative comfort bubble of denial that Anders was capable of seeing through his ruse, Fenris responded with a simple “I will… pass along the message.”

He was out the clinic door after that, yet only just managed to make it a few steps beyond the oak before it was impossible to deny the aggravating itch within his lungs. The fit coughing that he was thrown into was arguably the worst one yet, the strong scent of herbs, the anxiety from earlier, it all melded together to form a violent concoction. Blood dripped from his mouth and stained the dirt below him and the petals he expelled in his hands. When it had finally subsided, he looked around in a slight panic to see if anyone had caught him. Breathing a (ragged) sigh of relief, he found the area around him to be blissfully empty for once, likely due to the late hour. He hadn’t realized how long he had spent within the clinic itself, too long if you were to ask him, a lot longer than he was comfortable with.

Knowing that his brief window of opportunity to remain undetected, Fenris shoved the petals into the pouches on his belt as quick as he could manage while keeping one eye on his surroundings. When he deemed the coast clear, Fenris hurried back to his manor in Hightown without sparing another glance back.

Had he taken a bit more time paying attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed the few petals that dropped from one of his unsecured pouches, drifting to the ground to settle on one of the small spatters of blood in the dirt. When all was silent, the sound of one of the oak doors could be heard swinging open, a small blond head peering out into the deserted street. Having heard the commotion outside his clinic, Anders’ eyes snapped straight to the discarded petals and specs of blood.

The mage crouched in front of them, pulling the petals into his hand and using his foot to disperse the evidence of the blood. He turned the petals in his hand, a remorseful expression appearing on the healer’s features. He sighed and retreated into the clinic, putting the petals away in a secure location out of sight. “You must have been truly terrified if you came to me for help.” Anders whispered into the silence of his clinic. There was no way for the recipient of those words to hear them, but it wouldn’t stop Anders from voicing them anyway. “I hope things work out for you, no one deserves that kind of fate, even you.”

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #dragon age ii #fenris #fenris x hawke #fenhawke #Fenris x F!Hawke #fenris x femhawke #anders #fenris imagine #dragon age imagine #dragon age 2 imagine #dragon age ii imagine #drabble #angst #tw: blood #nature's shackles #hanahaki au #terra writes

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chut-je-dors · 6 years ago

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Sorry but I don't think you can say you're trying to "contribute" to making the mclennon fandom "more equal" with the way half your fics portray paul thistring after john's dick and making him be sub in all your fics and I hear people say how good the hor mechanic is but I think paul is just super annoying, not realistic at all and I'm sorry I don't understand how that fic became so popular in the first place or how your contributing to this fandom

You know what, I usually delete all this kind of asks after the whole hysteric!Paul controversy took place, ‘cos my patience was just running out and I was simply getting tired of it, but I actually want to answer this time, and will do so thoroughly. So beware, a LONG post coming through.

I’d like to begin with the claim that half of my fics portray Paul as the “bottom” one. First of all, I’d like to clarify that for me, it doesn’t matter who bottoms and who tops — the important thing is whether the relationship between the two men is equal, and that equality has nothing to do with who bottoms. One of them has to, if they were to do anal sex. It is true that in most of my fics, Paul has been the one to bottom, but that doesn’t mean he’s beneath John in any other way than just physically, literally lying under him.

There is a lot in this whole thing that people don’t really get:

First of all, you need to understand what kind of a place our fandom was when I was first starting as a reader. Most of the fics featured Paul as the bottom one, but John as the emotional drive in the stories. I’ve lost count of the oneshots I read back then that had John pining after Paul, and there didn’t seem to be any corresponding fics where Paul was the one desperately pining for John. Their relationship didn’t seem equal; Paul was too soft, John was too hard. Paul was the romantical one, John couldn’t have cared less. Paul was a stuck-up nun, John was a reckless arsehole without any regard for others feelings.

I started reading fics in 2009 at the age of 13, and two-three years later I was writing my first fic ThighGHGHGHGS. This was both an outlet for my personal frustration over John’s thighs (man was I high on hormones at 15), a desire to write something that would make other people laugh, and an attempt to do something that was often less seen; Paul pining over John.

After that, there were a couple of smaller fics that I won’t be discussing here, meant as crack fics and never to be taken seriously. (What 1 being my personal favourite.) The big needle in the wound for everyone seems to be the Hot Mechanic and the Hot Series in general, so let me tell you about that fic:

In 2012-2013 the steady stream of new fics on JohnHeartPaul seemed to be dying down. There were maybe one or two multichapter fics being published, new chapters appearing every now and then, and the place seemed to be dying down. At that point the JP-archive stopped being updated. I was 15, going on 16, and growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of good new fics in the fandom (at that point I’d read the whole archive through like, twice). I started roaming over to the Merlin fandom and was blown away by the amount of good fics that incorporated the characters into all sorts of AUs seamlessly. I especially loved the modern AUs, and felt that that was missing from our fandom. At this point (in 2013) there were about two or three Modern AU fics in the fandom, and all of them were oneshots! We simply had no multichapter modern AU fics.

I decided to simply continue on the same policy I’d previously had with ThighGHGHGHS; I wanted to bring something new into the fandom. (Note: I don’t want to sound egoistical in this essay — the reason why I haven’t explained this before now is because I am a very, very modest person, and I have a problem in taking credit and compliments over something that I don’t feel was such a big deal. But these are things that I’ve heard from other people over the years, and as such I feel safe saying them, even though I’m still battling to accept the high praise.)

So why is The Hot Mechanic so popular? Because it is the first long, plot-driven modern AU in this fandom.

I wanted to do it as a crack fic, because I love humour. I wrote a fic that made me laugh, and I never expected it to become a thing that’s still going on. But because it’s a crack fic, it brought a few changes into the characters. They don’t react like normal people do. Hell, George isn’t a normal person. Ringo is the closest one we get to a normal person in that fic, and Paul literally walked in on him fucking his cousin! They’re all completely out of their heads, and it’s made for the laughs. Since it is a deliberate crack fic that isn’t even trying to make the characters look real (think of it as a really long Monty Python sketch), and since I literally wrote it SIX YEARS AGO, I don’t think it is fair to continuously keep on using that fic against me as a proof of how I “always” write Paul and John.

The following parts to the Hot Series have followed the same pattern as the first part, because, y’know, continuity. You can’t change a character just like that in the middle of the story without an explanation, and since the lads’ characters were well-established in the first part of the series, I had to keep it up. And I wouldn’t have changed it either, because writing them was, and is, genuinely fun, and that’s what matters.

What’s important is also the fact that Paul and John’s relationship is equal. They are both loving towards each other, showing affection openly. John is pining after Paul at work, dreaming about the moment he gets back to Paul on a regular basis, and Paul often reacts to this with fond humour. They laugh at each other’s jokes, walk out hand-in-hand, are equal when it comes to sex — they decide together what they want, standing constantly on equal ground. That sort of an open, fluffy relationship was kinda new as well, mainly due to the fact that this fic takes place in the modern day; they are allowed to be together.

I wrote the Hot Mechanic with a conscious wish of people copying it, taking my lead and jumping into the world of AUs. I hoped that people would get inspired by my first futile attempt at a modern AU, and bring more of them into the fandom. In the end I don’t know how much of an impact the HM had on the authors in general, but some sort of a switch has happened in any case, since in these days we’re gloriously swimming in Modern AUs.

In 2015 I wrote the Vomiting Adventure. I can’t remember if there was any particular reason, other than that I had probably been ill, and wanted to write a fic to commiserate with my subconsciousness. (And those who complain about the hysteric!Paul never seem to mention it at all. Maybe because it doesn’t fit the profile?)

The same year I wrote Hate Is Such A Strong Word. That fic was... never intended to be what it is today. It started as deep, thoughtful few sentences, and then suddenly Paul was tied to the bed, and ??? It suddenly became a try on how to write smut, since I had no real experience in it. It was also a crack fic, and as such I ask you to look at it like at the HM: As nothing meant to be realistic. It was not planned, and Paul bottoming didn’t hold much meaning. It was my first smut, and someone needed to bottom. And Paul was already tied to the bed, which was convenient.

When you look at my fics, you’ll see that most of them are in fact meant as a light, fun reading experience. They are crack fics. The only clear exceptions are This Is Not Them, and Ten Minutes.

This Is Not Them came from that old damned desire to once again do something new, but this time something new for me, since all I had ever done was write crack fics. I wanted to challenge myself and write a fic in a completely different style and tone, I wanted to show people I could do other stuff as well. This fic has Paul bottoming at the beginning when he’s with John, because wordless agreements between characters about who tops and who bottoms? Y’know how those work -- but he tops with other people. He is depressed. Sex is his only way of feeling something, which is explained in the fic (meaning that he is not a slut, but feels conflicted because he feels like one, but doesn’t want to, and doesn’t know who he is anymore). And John has his own depression to fight against, and here, Paul bottoming is kind of a plot point... uh, like a small dot in a bigger plot point about who John is and Why Is He Like That? I don’t want to spoil the fic for those who haven’t read it yet, but; there isn’t a sentence written in that fic that doesn’t have a meaning behind it. Paul doesn’t bottom for the reader: he bottoms because John won’t, due to the man’s ghosts from the past.

What underlines my work is that I always want to do something no one else has ever done before, or has never done properly. I have decided not to delete my older work, because I know people enjoy those fics, and I hope people wouldn’t judge how I write now based on those 6-year old works. The fics that I’ve been working on within this past year are This Is Not Them, Ten Minutes, and 5 Thomas Lane. Read those fics, and tell me whether you see a sign of the “feminine and girlish” Paul. (or don’t read them, ‘cos they’re really long... like so many words..... god)

I can say that personally I’ve never liked the fics where Paul was made out to be the crying princess, just based on his looks. The fandom tended to do that (as they often do for “pretty” characters), and I wanted John and Paul to be equal. They are equal in banter, equal in feelings, and yes, equal in bed as well in the way that it matters: mentally. (Except for This Is Not Them, but that is a plot point)

I highly encourage you to take a look at my fic page, where you can see all the fics I’ve written at a glance! It really sounds like you haven’t read most of them, so do give them a go!

As a response to your thoughts that I have not contributed to this fandom at all — I’m sure you’re aware of the JP-Library by now. At least I hope so! Here is how all that happened:

As I mentioned before, in 2013 the fandom seemed to be dying down. 2014-2016 continued in the same way, with everyone having sort of scattered around after JohnHeartPaul had gone quiet. Tumblr isn’t the best place to keep your whole community in, since it doesn’t offer any possibility for good fandom discussion. AO3 was slowly gaining foot in the fandom, and new fics started to appear little by little — AUs to my delight, although even as recently as in 2016 there just didn’t seem to be any new ground-shaking fics. Overall the whole place seemed to be dying down, and I was feeling desperate, because this fandom had been my home for years by then.

4th of January 2017 I had a thought that if no one else was going to do anything, I was the one that had to. Here is a quote from messages I sent that day to one friend after bringing up the idea of a new, updated JP-archive:

CJD, [04.01.17 23:43]I just kinda wanna keep the jp fandom alive

CJD, [04.01.17 23:43]cos I’ve been watching it go down for years :/

This was my core motivation from the start. I collected all the fics from the JP-archive, went through them to sort out the broken links, and started adding AO3 fics into the mix. A month after the idea of doing this had surfaced, I published the site, and have been updating it ever since. Soon after that I took over @mclennonrecs.

I have been told by several different people that “you’re the one who’s keeping this fandom alive” or “you revived the whole fandom”. I’m not... sure if I agree, but it does however give a picture of what at least a one group of people think of my contributions to this fandom, and I’m glad to think that I’ve managed to make at least a small difference.

Truthfully I find it quite offensive that you would question my involvement in our fandom after all the work I’ve put into the Library and Mclennonrecs. I won’t say anything else on the matter, but I hope you take your time reading through my answer and considering what I’ve said.

I am always ready to receive criticism about my writing and the work I do, as long as it is given constructively. I do hope people would stop hounding writers for writing stories with bottom!Paul. It is discouraging to new authors and tiring to the old ones. I’ve always loved how people of all ages can unite over our love for John and Paul without judging anyone, so let’s not start creating unnecessary tension now.

Learn to see the fandom through its rich history, and don’t judge people without knowing their motivations. Please spread love instead of hate. Thank you! :)

#have a small bit of fandom history!#i'm sorry it's long... but i'm actually not sorry #i needed to finally say these things #i'm open for discussion.#note: fics where paul pined after john existed! probably a ton of them!#but the trend when i was starting had john pining since he was more obvious with it irl #fic discussion #fandom discussion #mclennon #mclennon fic #john lennon #paul mccartney #anon... i hope you consider what i've written #cheers!#anon hate #..?#anonymous #answered

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ragecndybars · 7 years ago

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How Post-Pacifrisk Sans Becomes PTA Sans

An overly long and detailed description of how I see the origins of PTA Sans.

Alright, I know PTA Sans is mostly a joke AU, but I’m gonna be real honest with y’all, it’s one of my main headcanons for Post Pacifrisk monsters. Like, I wouldn’t even consider it AU, just a continuation.

I mean, the way I see it, even after they get to the surface, Sans is Not Great. Like, he’s ecstatic at first, of course -- they all got out of the underground, Frisk didn’t kill anyone, monster/human relations are far better than they’d dared to hope, etc -- but then after a week or so, when all the hustle dies down, he just kinda. Casually thinks to himself, “I wonder if the kid can still reset?” And from then on, he’s super paranoid that a reset will occur at any second.

After a while, with the others’ help, he gets himself back together, and Frisk manages to convince him that she’s not going to reset this time, but that doesn’t change the fact that Sans has been living in a world completely free of consequence for a long time, and after so long of becoming numb to it all, it’s really hard to start giving a shit again. So, naturally, everyone decides that what he needs is to find something to be passionate about again -- and Sans is like, hey, it’s a lot of work that I don’t wanna do, but for the first time in a long time I have a genuine shot at happiness, and also Papyrus is already getting excited at the idea, so I guess I’ll give it a try.

(rest under the cut b/c this got long af)

Naturally, going back to being a scientist is right out -- way too many bad memories -- so Alphys can’t really help. Papyrus has become a sort of figurehead for the monsters since he’s so likable, kind, and genuine, and he also still doesn’t really know about the war Asgore called on humanity a while ago, so there’s no chance of him slipping up and mentioning that little detail. But that much attention and always smiling for the camera is really not Sans’ thing either. Undyne is a soccer coach/mom, and probably an athlete of several other types, but geez, Sans gets tired just watching those kids chase that ball around. Toriel lets him try as a substitute teacher for a week, but oh my god turns out being a teacher is actually a lot of work, and he likes the work, but he’s just not quite ready for that level of it yet. Mettaton’s band is full and Sans can only play various comedic noises on the trombone anyway, so that leaves him with not a lot of choices.

But then Asgore approaches him one day all like, “Y’know, Sans, there’s an opening in the PTA at Frisk’s school, and we really want to fill it with a monster for the sake of making our voice heard. Will you give it a try?”

And Sans, despite not liking the sound of it at all, decides, well, he does like Frisk and wants to stick up for the kid, and he is kinda interested in seeing what, exactly, PTAs do, so why not?

Next Wednesday, he shows up to his first meeting, Toriel having at least convinced him to wash his trademark hoodie and shorts, and immediately some of the parents hate him. None of them are bold enough to make any snide remarks -- not even Linda; we’ll get to her later -- but they’re very blatantly suspicious, condescending, and etc. Sans doesn’t actually give one singular shit, so he just trolls them constantly throughout the meeting and doesn’t pay a single shred of attention to what’s going on otherwise -- he has no idea what half the terms they’re using mean, anyway. And, whaddya know, he has a blast! So he happily agrees to go to more of these meetings, if only because Helen’s face turns a very interesting shade of puce when he does so.

The others are ecstatic, thinking he’s finally found something to care about, and they’re so excited that he can’t bear to correct them, so he just kinda rolls with it. But, unfortunately, Papyrus is naturally very invested in the whole thing now, and he starts asking Sans about what the PTA is doing, how Frisk’s schooling in general is going, what the other parents are like, etc. etc. Which means that, since Sans is too weak to leave his brother disappointed, he has to actually start trying, ugggghhhh.

So, with the help of Frisk (I’m tempted to say Toriel but she’s probably just as clueless as Sans honestly), he starts to do some research on some of the things he vaguely remembers Linda and co. arguing about. Like vaccines... okay, so they’re mandatory medicine that keeps kids from getting fatal diseases; cool. And gluten is just... a thing some people are allergic to, but a lot more people think they’re allergic to than are actually allergic to it? O... kay... He knows what autism is, because Toriel did some research when they found out Frisk had it and shared her notes with him. What’s “quiet hands”? Frisk gets... oddly subdued when he asks, so he drops it.

Eventually, he’s sufficiently educated in all the relevant ridiculous PTA topics, and he starts paying a tiny bit of attention during meetings, just so he can have something to report home to Papyrus about, and --

Wait.

Did Linda just say... she’s against vaccines? ......Because she thinks they “cause autism”?

At first, he isn’t even mad at all; he’s just confused. He’s convinced that he’s missing something here; he must’ve missed some crucial details in his research, because Linda has proven herself to be a passive-aggressive, somewhat racist, very self-righteous person so far, but she can’t really be willing to sacrifice her children’s health and possibly lives just because she thinks they might turn out like Frisk. Frisk is a great kid. Can autism even be “caught”? He doesn’t think so, but...

Well, he dismisses those thoughts, because, as I said, he just assumes he missed something in his research, and Papyrus has no idea what he’s talking about when he recites Linda’s whole rant at home later, but he’s still satisfied.

But then. He starts to get bigger audiences for his recitations. And the other monsters hear the shit Linda’s been spewing. And they are Not Pleased.

Like, “What do you MEAN they want to separate the P.E. class by gender and species?!?!?! That’s stupid!!! I teach all the kids perfectly fine!!! And why should they have to learn different things based on whether they’re a boy or a girl, or a human or a monster?????? AND WHERE DO FRISK AND MONSTER KID GO?!?! THEY AREN’T BOYS OR GIRLS!!”

And, “W-wait, she’s... anti... vaccines? B-but they’re absolutely vital! Literally! Th-they stop fatal illnesses! Not only is she endangering her own ch-child, but she’s endangering the other children, too!”

And, “WHAT?!?!?! LUNCHES THAT DON’T ALLOW SPAGHETTI???!! WHY?!?! ... WHAT IS “GLUTEN” AND WHY ARE WE NOT ALLOWED TO EAT IT?!?!”

And, “Excuse me, she said what about the dress code? Why exactly does she want gender to be a determining factor in what clothes you can or cannot wear? Every child should be able to shine just like whatever type of star they want to! Just like they can choose to be whomever they wish on stage! ...What? ...WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE WANTS TO BAN DISABLED KIDS FROM THEATER AND CHOIR -- “

And, “Hmph, if she thinks my child’s stimming is disruptive to the class, then perhaps she should keep tighter reigns on her own child, at least until he stops disrespecting me and the other staff at every possible opportunity! ...Oh, maybe that was a bit harsh...”

Except it isn’t too harsh. At all. And, as these semiweekly discussions get more and more heated, Sans starts doing more research and paying more attention and speaking up more and being a more active participant in general, and suddenly OH NO, HE CARES ABOUT THIS. HE ACTUALLY CARES ABOUT THIS. HE FEELS SOME KIND OF very faint and vague but still present PASSION ABOUT THIS.

(That passion being the passion he has for casually tearing Linda’s arguments down in front of the whole PTA with a huge shit-eating grin on her face while the few other members who are actually on his side try and fail to stifle their laughter in the background. It’s like stand-up comedy, but twenty times better.)

So, basically, Sans is sinking deeper and deeper into the PTA rabbit hole, but he still hasn’t reached the level of really hating Linda or Helen or anyone, and he still hasn’t said a single thing that’s technically an insult. He doesn’t think they’re reprehensible people so much as he thinks they’re really, really stupid and have no idea what’s best for their kids.

And then, one day, both he and Linda get called into the (Vice?) Principal’s office, and when they walk in Frisk and Linda’s kid are both there. Frisk looks close to tears, and Linda’s kid -- we’ll call him Timmy -- doesn’t look much better.

The (Vice?) Principal (whichever one isn’t Toriel) explains that Timmy had been mercilessly bullying Frisk, and when a teacher intervened he refused to stop, so they were both sent to the office, and Sans was Frisk’s only available guardian.

Naturally, Sans is already on edge, because A) Linda is there, and as much as he doesn’t despise her yet, he’s really not up for dealing with her bullshit right now, B) why the hell did Frisk get sent to the office? For being bullied? and C) He doesn’t like it when people bully his kid. Not that he’s nearly as protective of Frisk as he is of, say, Papyrus, but he has a vested interest in their happiness, and he doesn’t take kindly to random kids bullying them to the point of tears.

But Sans keeps his cool and just slinks into the chair next to Frisk, giving them a comforting shoulder squeeze after glancing at them to make sure they didn’t mind being touched right now. Linda, on the other hand, is absolutely outraged -- not because her child was bullying another child, mind you, but because he got in trouble for it.

And Sans’ mind is just. Blown. In a very bad way. Because, okay, it’s one thing to be dumb enough to convince yourself that vaccines are bad for your kid, and it’s another thing entirely to get pissed when your kid gets in trouble for their own actions. I mean, it wasn’t like she was saying Timmy didn’t do it -- she didn’t seem surprised to hear of his bullying habits at all, as a matter of fact -- she was just saying that he shouldn’t have gotten in trouble for it.

So, naturally, Sans responds in his usual carefree, subtly scathing manner, but Linda is having none of it. She turns around and marches up to Firsk and just starts yelling -- not adressing them, but talking about them as if they weren’t in the room and saying some pretty awful things.

Sans’ anger is already starting to flare, but, before he can act on it or supress it, Frisk starts to panic and flap their hands, and Linda loudly snaps “Quiet hands!” This only upsets Frisk more, and their stimming intensifies -- they’re actually crying now, which is saying a lot, because Frisk doesn’t cry very often, and he’s seen them in some situations that definitely warranted tears --

And Linda reached out and grabs Frisk’s hands, forcibly holding them at their sides.

Now, as I said earlier, Sans isn’t as protective of Frisk as he is of Papyrus, but they’re definitely number two on his list, and Linda is very, very low on the list. And now even lower. And she is physically preventing Frisk from comforting themselves (so this is what quiet hands is), and, for the first time in years, he’s happy; his friends -- his family is happy, and he actually CARES about something again, and everything is going right for once in his goddamned life, and like HELL is he gonna let some privelaged suburban soccer mom take that away from them.

No one ever spoke again of the incident in the (Vice?) Principal’s office, but suffice it to say that Linda didn’t lay hands on Sans’ kid ever, ever again.

And that’s the story of how Sans went from not giving a shit about anything to being a PTA Legend for years to come.

#Undertale #Sans the Skeleton #Parentale #PTA AU #Sans UT #Frisk UT #L I N D A #oh my god this post is so long I'm so sorry #I didn't mean to I swear

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odogaronfang · 7 years ago

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Ember, elegant, and danger.

[[i’ll do these as separates, just cuz, but i guess i’ll keep em along the same span of timeline in the botw au]]

ember;

Going on adventures alone is difficult and, though she’d be loath to admit it, really not so enjoyable. They’d agreed about a week ago to split up, to get some information on the behaviors of the divine beasts, and she’d been tasked with traveling to Gerudo Town- they only let women in, after all, and Zelda would be busy in Hebra, so she was the immediate choice. She’d agreed, because the climate of the desert was more like her hometown than Hebra’s, or the Eldin region’s, and she’d been vetoed for the zoras’ domain because Green had “called it”. At least it wouldn’t be cold, she’d said, and in the vast emptiness of the desert she laughs, then.

“Yeah, at least it isn’t cold.” She snorts, gives two middle fingers to the cool, implacable moon and pulls the thin blanket tighter around her. As soon as dusk had fallen she’d begun to notice the temperature drop, and now, halfway through the night, it’s near-freezing and miserable.

She has no wood, why would anyone bring firewood into a desert after all, so she’d gathered as much nearby foliage as she could and settled with her back to a boulder, knocked a rock against the head of her spear until a spark had caught, and she’d managed to kindle a little fire. It had lasted, for a little while, and she savored every second of its warmth.

But it’s out, now, little more than embers, blown to tiny fluttering red-orange bits by the vicious winds, and she’s near-freezing and growing desperate for something hot. She resolves to beat Green into the ground for not warning her once she gets back, if she survives this night.

(She does, and she’s welcomed, shivering and angry, into Gerudo Town just before dawn, by a group of laughing eight-foot tall women; she isn’t sure whether to feel dwarfed and insignificant or grateful and, perhaps, smug.)

elegant;

The zoras’ domain is one of the most beautiful places Green has ever seen in his life. He’d been astounded even at the simple grace of the towers posted just along their borders, and the bridges that spanned the paths across rivers were no less stunning, but neither fully prepared him for the heart of the domain. It’s breathtaking, awe-inspiring, gorgeous- he’s seen a wonderful handcrafted rendering of Hyrule Castle in its heyday, and it can’t hold a candle to the wrought silver and sapphires of the soul of the zoras’ homeland, small though it is.

His zora guide seems amused and proud at his expression.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Tula, as she’d introduced herself as, says, and pats him on the shoulder. “It’s the pride of our people, right here.”

“It’s incredible,” He agrees, and tries not to stop to admire every little arch of the bridge as they walk by. Vio is the one with words, not him, but… “It’s… elegant, if I had to put it in a word.”

“It’s elegant and more- there isn’t any single word that can really capture it. Which is why calming Vah Ruta is so important to us. Or one of the reasons, anyway. If Ruta floods the domain… centuries of work of our skilled artisans, gone just like that. King Dorephan has worked himself into a terrible worry over it.”

Green can’t help but cast a nervous glance at the waterspout looming behind them, a beacon to the raging beast. “Especially if it killed Champion Mipha…”

“Rest her soul, we don’t think that’s what happened, exactly,” Tula says, hastily, “Princess Mipha’s control over Ruta was absolute, and their bond was unshakable. Nothing could have changed that save interference by another being. Of course, we have to prove that theory- which is why we need Hylians, like you, to get in there and find out.”

“It’s a lucky coincidence, I guess. A few friends and I have been looking for information on them, the divine beasts I mean, trying to see if we can do anything about them.”

That seems to excite her, and her pace quickens (though it isn’t difficult to adjust, their legs are so short). “Friends, you say? Hylians as well, these?”

“Well, some. One’s a sheikah, and another half sheikah, and I’m half gerudo actually so I don’t know if I count, really.”

“That’s wonderful news!” She tugs insistently at his wrist, past the smooth silver of the memorial of Champion Mipha and to the stairs that lead to the king’s chamber. “To think- sheikah, and one of gerudo blood, this will be even better than just hylian. Tell me, are any of you skilled with a bow?”

“Uh, the half sheikah is, his name’s Vio-”

“Come, come, save the details for the king, he’ll be just ecstatic to hear this, this is better news than we could have hoped for!”

He’s rushed with all haste into Dorephan’s audience chamber, and is met with a king the size of a house, and a prince hardly up to his waist (both of whom he bows to, unsure of how to handle himself in presence of another’s royalty). He introduces himself and, at Tula’s prodding, offers details on himself and his friends, and that goes into strategy discussion and something that sounds suspiciously like an agreement of some sort, and he leaves to his special luxury guest suite in the domain wondering what he’s just gotten himself into.

danger;

Vio is very aware of the dangers of Hebra, mundane and otherwise. Zelda makes sure to remind him- mind thin ice, check for solid footholds, hollow a space in the snow in the event of an avalanche, check your hands and feet every hour or so for frostbite, if you hear a howl get somewhere inaccessible to quadrupeds.

She’s known Hebra half a lifetime, and she’s wary, so he’s wary; it’s all in good sense, of course.

“Do monsters run as rampant here as they do in the warmer regions?”

“Yes, but in a different way, I guess. The camps aren’t as frequent, but they come in bigger groups.”

As they discover hardly an hour later.

It surprises Zelda- “I’d never seen an encampment here before”- and it puts him off a little. Bigger groups is no exaggeration: it’s a dozen of them, at least, but probably more, bokoblins and moblins and pale blue lizals clumped around a fire comically small for their group.

“We will find another way,” Vio murmurs, takes her arm and pulls gently, and she goes to turn, and her foot cracks a crust of ice and all eyes are on them.

It’s chaos from there, too many against too few, a seven to one ratio at the least, and Vio is ill-suited to the terrain and Zelda’s too outnumbered to be effective with her small quick weapons. Quickly she takes the role as diversion, gives Vio time to pick them off, it’s the safest option, or it is in theory.

“Get back,” He calls to her, when no more than half have fallen, dead or otherwise incapacitated, “Far back, go down the slope if you must!”

She’s not sure why he says it but she does it anyway, favoring the probability of surviving a slide downhill over melee against six monsters twice her size. She takes one with her as she goes, knocks it off balance and sends it careening down, locks her feet in the straps of her shield and follows it. Just as she reaches the bottom she hears a crackle, and then a loud noise that sounds almost like a parachute catching the wind, and a burst of heat sears her face even at that distance.

A fire arrow, she thinks, clever, at least against the lizals, and drives her knife into the moblin’s head when it tries to rise. It’s a little while before she chances to move, because it’s too quiet for her liking, not a word from Vio since he’d let the arrow fly. She picks her way up the hill- it’s easier now, with some of the snow melted to reveal footholds.

“Vio?”

“I am alive.”

It takes a moment of looking around, but she finds him, sitting against a log the moblins had been resting on, checking his bow for burns. She’s wary, as she crosses the snow, but no ice chus burst from the drifts, so she sits beside him, sighs and slumps against the damp wood.

“Hell of a fight,” She says, and scrubs at a spatter of bokoblin blood on her leg with a handful of snow.

“Hell of a fight,” He agrees. Satisfied with his bow’s condition, he frees it of its string and stores it for the time being, takes out the first aid kit he keeps tucked in his pack. “Need anything?”

She agrees to a bandage; she’d missed a good dodge by a fraction of a second, and the little slice on her stomach stings against her undershirt. It’s only when she’s handing back the roll when she notices Vio’s got one hand shoved into the snow, the surrounding sleeve alarmingly blackened, and when he pulls it out the ice is stained pale red.

“Vio, what happened?”

“I was careless with the fire arrow is all. Not enough time to take proper precaution.”

“That’s a bad burn.”

“It looks worse than it is, fortunately.”

She’s skeptical, watches as he smears some bitter-smelling salve on it and wraps it in bandages and eases his glove over it. “That didn’t burn?”

“I suspected this might happen. I took it off before I got the arrow.”

“We need to get that checked out by a healer. There’s a stable not too far from here we can go to.”

“Tomorrow, maybe. We ought to get our rest while we can. The danger is past, for now.”

#four swords #green link #blue link #vio link #zelda #my writing #posts? on my blog? its more likely than you think #botw au #my au #vio gets phantom pains in his hand for a long time after that #fire arrows are not to be trifled with

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spideytorchbigbang · 7 years ago

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2017 Second Claims

Due to interest and the number of artist sign-ups, we’ve decided to open a second round of claims for the 2017 Spideytorch Big Bang. If you were unable to claim to a story in the first round, or you simply want to claim another, please e-mail [email protected] with your pick!

Summaries repeated under the cut:

JAILBREAK

Universe: AU [616-based] Rating: M Warnings: college rejection/dropouts, morally grey decisions, breaking and entering, involving a teenager in illegal things, dubious consent due to alcohol (not painted in a good light), manipulation, sexual regret, mentions of canon compliant character death, shady and illegal government organizations, prison Summary: When Johnny Storm is fourteen years old, Reed Richards and Ben Grimm move next door. Due to his sister’s strange attraction to them, and his intense love for his sister, Johnny finds himself sucked further into their world, until one night Reed decides to steal a spaceship and bam – along come the Fantastic Four. At first, the F4 are heroes, but they soon take a menacing turn, and it takes a chance run-in with Spider-Man, the new kid on the block, to remind Johnny that he can be a hero again. But when things take a turn for the worse, Johnny is left alone in a world of heroes, desperately fighting to find his family (and maybe even himself). Or: the Fantastic Four are well-meaning but evil, SHIELD is generally shady, Johnny kisses boys he shouldn’t, Peter Parker has a hot girlfriend and a motorcycle, and Spider-Man is always in Johnny Storm’s corner.

FAMILY

Universe: 616, but current canon is more of a suggestion than anything Rating: Mature Warnings: Kidfic (but not mpreg), Peter Parker’s Poor Decision Making Skills, Tentacles, Implied Foggy Nelson/Matt Murdock/ Kirsten McDuffie , HEAVILY Implied Venom Symbiote/Flash Thompson Harry Osborn/Flash Thompson and Venom/Harry/Flash, child illness, Johnny Is Shirtless All The Time Because Reasons Summary: Peter always thought he’d have more of a say over when he had a kid, that it would be something decided between him and his hypothetical lover some time down the line. But between his board of directors insinuating that the public doesn’t trust a single and child-free CEO, and a rather insistent alien queen wanting him as some kind of stud male to save her people, Peter’s ‘someday maybe’ plan has ended up becoming 'no time like the present’ when said alien queen gifts Peter with an egg. Inside? A baby made up of his and Johnny Storm’s DNA, because name dropping Johnny Storm to get out of hot water was never a good idea. In the face of Johnny’s depression over his still missing family, Peter decides that Johnny could never know the baby was his, too. Instead, Peter invites Johnny to live with him as the baby’s nanny, because living with the guy you have over a decade and a half of repressed romantic feelings for and raising your daughter together under false pretenses is a plan that can’t possibly back fire. Good Job, Pete.

WOLF

Universe: MTV-Teen-Wolf-inspired AU Rating: Mature Warnings: secondary characters’ deaths including a police shooting scene, bullying incidents, scenes with Peter in chains, mild horror content (a wild werewolf chasing and threatening Peter), expletives (swearwords), animalistic characteristics of Peter in some scenes, shapeshifting into a werewolf, violent incidents, some scenes are heavily influenced by the Teen Wolf series Summary: When Peter gets dragged by Gwen into the Central Park in the middle of the night to look for a body he doesn’t expect to be bitten by a werewolf (it’s not like they exist, right?), but that’s exactly what happens. His life takes rapid turn, he’s lost his uncle, a crazed killer alpha werewolf is trying to get to him, and he can’t even control his own body. To make the matters worse the fate seems to like playing with him as it turns out that the only person who can calm him down is none other than Johnny Storm, a self-absorbed cheerleader who seems to embody everything that Peter hates. But maybe being a werewolf won’t be as bad as Peter thought…

SPIDER

Universe: AU Rating: M Warnings: violence, drug addiction as a minor plot point (Harry Osborn), alcoholic parental figure/legal guardian, a lot of bruises and visible physical injuries on Peter, one usage of a homophobic slur, one usage of a racial slur, heavily implied child abuse (and child abuse is discussed), very minor Peter/Flash is sort of there technically, perceived relationship between an adult and a minor, keep your eyes wide open and you’ll still probably miss it but it’s definitely in there reference to canonical childhood sexual abuse, a brief Spanish language conversation that while is not google translate bad I also am not very strong at Spanish, and I think that about covers it Summary: Possibly the worst part of being a superhero was dealing with villains such as the notorious and mysterious Spider. But Johnny has bigger problems to deal with. His girlfriend just left him for some twerp named Peter Parker. He meets the kid and he sort of gets the appeal. Oh god, no. Of course Parker has no clue what Johnny’s talking about when Johnny calls him out for stealing his girlfriend. The Spider has nothing on this sort of terror. Or: AU where Peter Parker chose to be a super villain instead. Featuring Johnny not knowing jack about Les Mis, Snitch the teddy bear, the magic of criminal profiling, “Dorrie Evans? Isn’t she gay?”, and a completely made up super villain origin story.

Additional Information from the author: In this fic Johnny and Peter are both Latino. To be more specific Johnny is Mexican and Peter is Puerto Rican. I felt that was something an artist should be aware of going in.

MULTIVERSE

Universe: Main Universe: 616, Guest Universes: Fant4stic, World’s Greatest Heroes, an original universe or two Rating: T or M Warnings: A character dealing with intense grief over an AU character’s death Summary: Johnny’s been hopelessly in love with Peter almost as long as he’s known him, but he’s never told Peter how he feels. During his lengthy stint in a Negative Zone prison, he promised himself that he’d finally tell Peter the truth if he ever sees him again. He’s been back a few weeks, but he still hasn’t been able to work up the courage. When he and Peter step through the Inhuman Eldrac, a magic door, he and Peter are jointly sent on a trip through the multiverse, where they encounter version after version of themselves, all in different stages of their lives…all of whom are deeply in love. Could Eldrac possibly be trying to tell them something? Featuring mutual pining, angst, babies, weddings, old marrieds, a widower, and tons of Peter being his usual oblivious (and possessive) self.

MORNINGSTAR

Universe: AU Rating: E Warnings: Canon and fairy tale typical violence, references to self-immolation, brief sexual assault (a forced kiss) in an encounter with the villain. The explicit rating is due to consensual sex between Johnny and Peter. Peter is a giant talking spider for part of the fic. Summary: When Johnny makes a deal with the monster that lives in the woods – himself for his sister’s happiness – he doesn’t expect the giant spider to take him to a beautiful castle, or to reveal himself a cursed prince. There’s only one catch: he’s only a man in the darkest night, and Johnny can never see his face. Still, they grow closer, and Johnny is happy with their strange arrangement – until a visit home ruins everything. Now he must travel east of the sun and west of the moon to reclaim Peter from the Goblin King. An East of the Sun, West of the Moon/Polar Bear King-inspired AU.

BARK

Universe: no clear universe, it’s a mashup (character-wise, I follow Andrew Garfield’s Peter Parker pretty closely, but Johnny is also a bit of a mashup based on how I see him) Rating: Teen Warnings: canon-typical violence, kissing, injuries, brief nakedness (when Johnny gets turned back to human), Johnny is a literal dog for most of the fic, underage drinking (Johnny is nineteen), cursing (including at least three uses of the f-bomb), animal violence and abuse (dog fighting ring), non-consensual drugging (chloroforming Johnny while he’s in dog-form) Summary: A witch turns Johnny into a yellow lab, effectively leaving him in the middle of New York City with four paws, no way to communicate, and oh yeah - a dog that can flame on isn’t exactly inconspicuous. All his instincts scream for him to run home, but to his confusion, his paws aren’t leading him to the Baxter Building. Aka Johnny Storm turns up at a run down apartment near Empire State University only to discover that the apartment belongs to one Peter Parker. Only problem is, Johnny doesn’t know that Peter is Spider-Man, and Peter doesn’t know that Johnny is a dog.

CIVILIAN

Universe: AU Rating: Teen Warnings: canon-typical violence, identity porn Summary: Peter Parker meets and starts dating Johnny Storm of the Fantastic Four, which is unusual, as Johnny is a super-human super-star and Peter is…not. Competing with an adoring public and the frustration of being stuck on the ground while Johnny is up in the sky makes Peter wonder if he fits in with Johnny’s spectacular life. Then he gets a bite from a certain spider and becomes Spider-Man! Problem solved, right? The only issue: Johnny hates Spider-Man. Misunderstandings and hilarity ensue.

This post will remain up until the 20th or until all summaries have been claimed a second time.

#spideytorch big bang #spideytorch big bang 2017 #mod post #art claims

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