#realized that the first edition of this one had a lot of OOC content

[kade-is-here]

Kepler Videos, Part 4!(Reupload!)

!!TW for Cursing!!

All art is by tiredsn0w!

(tiredsn0w, if you see this and would like for me to change anything or take it down, please let me know!)

Stimboard requests are open! ^^

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: HI!!! ok so im here. im risen. im inspired. here’s something FUNNYYYY about the inspo for this… so its based off of a theory from an anti gr*via post LMAOOO this feels soooo bitchy but i swear to GOD it is not a call out it is just genuinely something that gave me inspiration. so basically an anti said that gray doesnt actually have feelings for juvia and he is just saying that he does because he feels indebted to her for saving his life. sorta kinda something like that. im not gonna go back and look bc tbh i may have blocked the account? JFJDKDJDJ idk. anyways. here’s this. you’ll see where my heads at in a sec bc ur probably like “ok so how tf is that gonna be a gruvia fic” just WAIT ok my gears are turning. this one is a lot longer (and possiblyyyyyy OOC but in my defense!!!!!!!!! picture how gray would act if he were in an established relationship with juvia. like boyfriend girlfriend. for six months.) than it should have been BUT lets call it even for my million year hiatus. ENJOY BABIES!

~

Although Juvia had hardly gotten any sleep this past night, rolling around in her sheets all night with excitement, she certainly walked with a spring in her step when she eagerly made her way to the local convenience store.

She would’ve been lying if she said she hadn’t thought about setting up camp outside the little shop that night so that way she could hold those glorious, glossy, pieces of paper bound together by glue as soon as physically possible. Fortunately, she was reasoned with when Gray quickly pointed out the ridiculousness of the notion after she had brought it up to him as a genuine idea.

Making sure to get up bright and early the day of the big release would do. As long as she would be the first person in the store with the very first copy of that week’s edition of Sorcerer Magazine in her hands, she would be content.

Naturally, Gray initially rejected the idea. It was so completely and irrevocably unlike him. An interview about himself, just him, was a tall order, but an interview with him and Juvia, as a couple? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. For Gray, opening up to the people closest to him was hard enough. Even finally getting the nerve to ask Juvia on a date was something that took a great deal of time and effort. Things so personal like this were hard for him.

All these years in Fairy Tail, and he’s hardly spoken more than a few sentences to Sorcerer Magazine, let alone sitting down for a tell-all interview.

Unfortunately for him, his enthusiastic water mage was over the moon when Sorcerer Magazine reached out to them for an interview.

Public displays of affection were never Gray’s strong suit, and after finally realizing his feelings for Juvia, he still isn’t a fan. As much as he would deny it, he had become quite a softy with Juvia behind closed doors, but as soon as those doors open, he retreats back to his shell-like and cool exterior.

Even after a good six months of dating, Juvia really didn’t mind. It’s not like he acted like he didn’t know her. They went on dates, they were finally an official item, and he would even do subtle things like resting his hand lightly on her leg under the table at the guild hall or give a “Love you, see you later” loud enough for Happy to hear even knowing he’ll snicker and tease Gray about it for the next few minutes.

All in all, they were both content with the amount of their relationship they let others see.

So something like an interview with a very popular magazine would certainly throw a wrench in all of that for Gray.

But Juvia begged, and begged, and begged, and finally, once they came to an agreement about the types of questions they would answer and the depth of their answers, Gray agreed to the interview. After all, it would make her happy, and he was comfortable enough with himself and his self esteem at this point to be able to do this for her.

Juvia was elated with how the interview went. Of course, she had done most of the talking, but she was happy to do so. She tried her best to hold back on doting too much as to save Gray some embarrassment, and she thought she mostly succeeded. Even when questions got a little personal, like asking about how Juvia got the scar on her side (of course, with her new stripping habit when in battle, her scar is easily visible for large enough periods of time), she answered as succinctly and lightly as possible while still giving an honest answer.

So to say the headline that Juvia saw that morning plastered on the front of that cold and stiff magazine was horrifying was an understatement.

“Gray and Juvia: Girlfriend or Guilt Trip?”

Juvia wasn’t sure how many times the clerk at the store had asked “Miss? Are you alright?” before her consciousness finally came back into this orbit. She blinked for the first time in what may have been minutes, and looked up at the clerk. Without giving a reply, she looked back down at the magazine, and saw the picture they used, which was Juvia clinging to Gray, wrapped around his arm.

Gray’s face in the picture became warped by a water droplet hitting the cover, and then another droplet, and then another. It wasn’t until she looked back up at the clerk who looked even more concerned than before that she realized those water droplets came from her eyes.

“Sorry.” She quietly said as she handed the magazine to the cashier so he could scan it, handed him a bill of some value that she wasn’t entirely sure of, took the magazine back into her trembling hand, and left the store without getting her change.

Juvia got back to her apartment even quicker than she got to the store that morning. Every part of her mind told her not to do it, not to read the magazine, but then why did she buy it? Her brain screamed at her to put it down, not to go to the page of that article, but then why did her fingers frantically flip to page 14, just as instructed on the cover?

Each word was not only a dagger to Juvia’s very soul, but also a twisted reasoning and explanation, that Juvia fully believed by the end of her read. She couldn’t quite make the words into sentences or the sentences into paragraphs but as she buried herself in her covers, some phrases repeatedly burned into her mind and punched her in the gut such as “clingy”, “desperate”, and “leech”.

The worst part of it all weren’t the attacks at Juvia, but it was what this all meant for Gray. He was trapped.

He was her prisoner.

A prisoner that was bound to her out of a crippling feeling of guilt and sense of responsibility.

She may have been in her bed writhing in agony and mortification over these words for hours until a bang on her apartment door jolted her back to reality.

“Juvia? You in there?” Said that voice she knew all too well. How could someone’s voice be both such a comfort and a misery? She needed to hear him more than anyone at this moment and yet, she couldn’t bear to hold him hostage for another second.

She hoped if she said nothing, he would go away. But this was not the case.

The door slowly opened. “Juvia? Are you here? I’m coming in.” She winced as his voice got closer, now coming from her living room.

Her apartment wasn’t very big, so he found her in her bedroom in the next few moments. All Gray could see was a lump that was seemingly her body, crunched up into a balled up position, bound under her covers. Not even her face was out.

He stood in her doorway, not wanting to fully intrude “So you are here. Good.” He said calmly. “I was kinda’ worried when you didn’t meet me at the cafe this morning like you said you would.” Juvia then remembered they had plans to get breakfast together, bright and early, so she could gush about their big debut as a couple. Those plans changed

“Oh.” She said softly. “Juvia is sorry Gray-sama.” She tried to speak as clearly as she could knowing her voice was muffled underneath her blanket. “Juvia didn’t feel well this morning.” She lied.

“Oh.” Gray replied. He took a step into the room. “You sick?” He stretched his neck over her a bit to see if he could get any sort of glimpse at her face, but to no avail.

“Yes.” Juvia sniffled, using her congestion from her tears as fuel for her lies. “Juvia thinks it’s just allergies.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. Something was off. “Allergies? Since when do you have allergies?”

Juvia remembered in this moment that lying was not one of her strong suits. She was far too unapologetically herself to ever lie about anything, and she was just plain bad at it. To say she doesn’t have a good poker face would be putting it lightly.

“Well— Um—!” The pitch in her voice jumped with nervousness. “This spring has been a really brutal one! Pollen has been all over the place, and it’s driving Juvia crazy!” She finished with a fake sneeze, sealing her fate.

“It’s November.” Gray said, dryly.

Juvia’s face lit up a red so bright, she was sure she was glowing from underneath her covers.

After a few more moments of no response as Juvia tried to think of her next plot, Gray spoke again. “And I know you wanted to see me at the crack ass of dawn so you could show me the newest Sorcerer Magazine edition.” Gray sat down at the edge of her bed. “Even if you were in an accident that tore off all your limbs, you would’ve been at that cafe, magazine in hand, ready to explode from excitement. There’s no way some sniffles would stop you.”

There was another pause. Juvia meekly responded. “Well. Since Juvia’s body is made of water, it’s actually impossible for me to have all my limbs torn off.”

Gray barely let her finish the sentence. “Juvia!” He snapped back, fed up with the antics.

“And what does it really matter?!” Juvia erupted from her covers, finally revealing her swollen eyes, puffy and blotchy face, and ratted hair to Gray, whose eyes softened with concern. “It’s not like Gray-sama wants to have to wake up at 7:00 AM to meet Juvia for breakfast anyway! Just for Juvia to show you a magazine that I made you be apart of against your will.” Her eyes were welling with tears.

Gray was taken aback. His eyes widened with surprise and confusion. “Well-“

“Don’t deny it.” She cut him off. “We both know it’s true.” Tears dripped down her hot cheeks. “Just like it’s true how Juvia clings to you, and suffocates you, and even forced you into a relationship.”

“Whoa!” Gray sat up straight, and turned himself more to position himself facing her on the bed.

“And I always thought Gray-Sama just finally let Juvia in.” She interrupted him again, and gripped the sheets of her bed within her fists. “But it’s got nothing to do with that.” She looked down and gritted her teeth.

“Gray-sama feels indebted to Juvia since Juvia saved his life.” She clenched her eyes shut, and felt tears melt from her eyes in pools.

Her tense body jolted and almost instantly released tension as she felt Gray’s sturdy hands grab onto the sides of her arms, clutching her.

Juvia opened her eyes and looked up to find him just an arm’s distance’s length from her, staring at her with so much intent it almost looked like anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice is low and gravelly. Juvia was glad her eyes would cloud with more tears so she didn’t have to see his dark eyes piercing into her. She looked away.

“The magazine.” She pulled one of her arms from Gray’s grasp and pulled the magazine in question out from under the covers where it rotted away with her minutes ago.

Shamefully, she held Sorcerer Magazine out to Gray who promptly took it from her hands. She was brave enough to watch his face as he first locked eyes with the cover, but wasn’t brave enough for anything else. She saw his scowl quickly scan the bold words and looked back down as she squeezed her eyes shut.

This was it. The end. He would see those red capital letters shouting at him, telling him “Run!”, and he would heed the advice. Of course he would. The magazine was right, after all. He would turn to page 14 just as eagerly as Juvia did and read, in gruesome detail, the truth of their relationship. At least after all of this, he would finally be free from her venomous clutches. He would be absolved of all guilt, now that the article plainly told him the truth of their situation. He would no longer have to pretend-

CRRSHH.

Juvia’s cruel daze was broken by the sounds of Gray tearing the magazine in half.

And then another half, and then one more half for good measure.

“Gray-Sama!” Juvia exclaimed, shocked.

“What a load of shit.” Gray said plainly, but with distinct irritation in his voice.

“But! You didn’t even read the article! It explained how-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He interrupted and finally made eye contact with her once again once the magazine was finally in enough pieces to do no more harm.

“Well, you should.” Juvia looked down at the shards of Sorcerer Magazine.

“And why is that?”

“Because it all made sense. From start to end. Our relationship. I clung and clung and clung to you, and when I saved your life, you had no choice but to break for me. You felt like you owed me something. And that debt was big enough to do something as crazy as convince yourself that you love me.” Although Juvia explained the situation plainly and logically, her own words were like poison in her mouth, as tears had no choice but to fill her eyes again. She looked up at Gray who was at a loss for words.

This was good. There was nothing left to say. She smiled softly at the thought of their departure, and thus, Gray’s freedom. She knew she needed to swallow her tears, so she did.

“It’s ok.” She shook her head with her smile still curled through her lips. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this anymore. The debt is repaid. These last six months Juvia has spent with you have been filled with enough love to keep me content for a lifetime. We can go back to being friends, and we can both be happy.” Juvia paused and watched Gray’s brow furrow.

“Thank you for everything, Gray-sama. Loving you this closely for this long has been everything Juvia has ever wanted.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear crept through. She smiled thinking about how even though they won’t be together, she will love him for the rest of her life, and that was more than she ever deserved.

“That’s enough.” Was all Gray said as he used one hand to pull her head directly towards him onto his shoulder, and he wrapped the other around the middle of her back. They were positioned awkwardly because of how they were sat on the bed, but Gray didn’t care or even notice.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” Was his next question, and his tone was still low, but a bit softer.

“Eh?” Juvia was at a loss for words. How did she en up in his arms?

“I knew this stupid interview was a bad idea.” He grumbled, talking to himself, but obviously for Juvia to hear. “It’s a magazine. Of course they would twist our words into whatever made for a juicier story.”

“But-“

“Juvia,” Gray cut her off and sighed. He grabbed her by her shoulders, putting her back at arm’s length, and looked directly at her. “Here’s the truth.” He said certainly. Juvia’s eyebrows clenched with confusion.

“I’m not with you because I feel like I owe you anything. I’m with you because you’re clingy, you’re relentless, and you’re obnoxious about what you want, which is me.” Gray was serious. Juvia looked down in embarrassment.

Gray gently swept her bangs out of her face, and his hand traveled to her cheek where he cupped her face. She had no choice but to look back at him.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He finally smiled, and Juvia’s heart oozed.

“What?” She whispered.

“You’re the most passionate, determined, loyal, genuine, kind person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You were the person who showed me that not only did I deserve love, but I was capable of loving. After all the people I lost, I had walls on top of walls on top of walls. And one by one, you broke each barrier down with a smile in your face.” He used a thumb to swipe away a tear, and Juvia let out a chuckle.

“Never in my life did I think I would think about stuff like romance or love. I was too scared. Now I think about having an actual future with somebody. And I know for sure that somebody is you.” Gray was saying things that Juvia only heard in her wildest dreams.

“Really?” Juvia grabbed onto the hand that held her face.

Gray nodded. “The way you’ve loved me has showed me how to love, Juvia. It took me awhile to get that, but I got it.”

He paused. He looked at the shred of magazing beneath him. “Not only is the person who wrote this article too stupid to know that I would never do something I don’t want to do or be with someone I don’t want to be with, but they’re also too stupid to know that you are the best thing in my life. A ‘guilt trip’ couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Juvia smiled, and instinctively her hand reached down for her scar, remembering how her sacrifice to save Gray’s life was what brought forth that term. Guilt trip. Gray took note of her hand placement, and knew she was thinking about this.

“Yes, you saved my life, and that may have been the moment that changed everything for me— for us, but not because I felt like I owed you, but because seeing how close I came to losing you made me realize that life is short. And up until then, I had spent all that time pushing everything off when I should’ve been letting you in. That moment made me finally realize that.” He looked at her deeply. “And I know I love you.”

“I love you too, Gray-sama.” Juvia finally allowed herself to melt in his arms, and he wrapped her up in his warm embrace.

“Y’knowww~” Juvia almost sang. “Saying you see a future with Juvia is practically the same thing as a proposal.” She snuggled closer into him.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Gray reflexively replied.

Juvia giggled and nuzzled even further into Gray’s chest. “Thank you, Gray-sama.”

Gray and Juvia held each other for a little while longer as the discards of Sorcerer Magazine crumpled and bunched up within the covers where they sat, but they didn’t care.

They let the words be buried beneath them.

[copterbotblades]

  independent roleplay/ask blog for Blades of Transformers: Rescue Bots ✨️🚁  single muse*, multiverse & multiship, semi-selective, sfw, low/sporadic activity    anon asks & M!As welcome

  *(secondary muse Dani Burns may also appear)

Status: Busy (Inactive but lurking!)

written by Firefly, she/her (character bio & notes below)

note: I edit this post a lot. like multiple times a week if i'm feeling active. everything on here is subject to change

-🚁- Rules

 no internet discourse! i simply do not care :)

 no nsfw - I don't judge, but I am personally extremely uncomfortable with it, especially in a Transformers context. also note that I probably won't follow blogs that do explicit roleplays or writings on main-- again, nothing against you or the content, I just don't want to see it.

 please message me if you want to plan or chat about anything!

-🚁- Backstory

   During the latter years of the Autobot-Decepticon war, a rescue team of four young adult Cybertronians were discovered by Optimus Prime after being in stasis for several millennia. At this point, Rescue Bots were thought to be extinct. The bots were brought to Earth and paired with a family of human rescue workers to protect the residents of a semi-isolated high-tech island called Griffin Rock, where they regularly prevent disaster from occurring.    Blades, the team's medic and only flier, is very anxious and easily frightened. Despite his protests due to his fear of heights, he had to scan a helicopter altmode after reaching Earth. His human partner is Dani Burns, an EMT and rescuer in her early 20s. While the pair had a difficult beginning with many disagreements, they eventually realized how much they had in common. The two are now inseparable friends both in rescue work and at home, watching TV and making interesting attempts at baking.

-🚁- FAQs

 Time frame - Unless stated otherwise, events take place between the S1 finale and S3 finale-- essentially meaning that Doc Greene and Frankie are aware of the bots' sentience, but the rest of the island residents are not.

 Will RP with - Transformers, some OCs, and maybe characters from other fandoms. (please DM first!)

 Genres - Any. Fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, crack, whatever. Violence and injury is ok, gore is not.

 Ships - My ships with Blades are almost always Bumblebee or Heatwave, but I'm open to others! Shipping isn't really a priority for me though.

 Anonymous asks - yes! I can't promise to answer every ask, but know that all are appreciated :]

 Magic Anons - yes, always!

 also, "low/sporadic activity" means that sometimes I'll be really active one week and then completely disappear the next. i promise i haven't forgotten, i'm just busy and/or have writer's block </3

Formatting - IC writing is in plain text, speaking lines are in quotes "", thoughts are in italics. If Blades is speaking over commlinks, text will be .:like this:. . OOC posts and tags are in brackets [ ]. I can't/won't write with asterisks.

-🚁- Character notes & headcanons:

  Both Blades and Dani are pansexual.

  Blades has bright orange/yellow optics. (Yes, I know they're green in RBA. I like orange better.)

  Dani has dark brown eyes.

  The concept of gender doesn't really exist on Cybertron, but on Earth Blades sort of defaulted to he/him.

  Blades used to have a Cybertronian ground altmode similar to an Earth sports car. He sometimes misses racing with the other Rescue Bots and his friends back on Cybertron.

  He's learned to deal with his fear of heights and become a skilled flier, but is still vulnerable to panic in the air, especially under stressful circumstances (e.g. weather).

  His helicopter rotors are extremely sensitive, and fragile. If they are broken or bent, he can't fly until they are repaired and healed.

  Blades is the team's medic. However, he is somewhat inexperienced and obviously nowhere near the skill level of those like Ratchet. (Also, he knows next to nothing about human anatomy and health. That's Dani's job.)

originally est. 2022 / new blog est. 2024

[best-fe-parent-tournament]

I totally respect putting the fates dads in here for baby realms crimes, it’s your poll, do what you want.

But I think it’s so blatantly just a plot device that for a lot of the dads it doesn’t feel like an actual like extension of the characters? Like are there dads who would 100% be absentee? Yes. Does it feel like a coherent choice that these characters made and should reflect them as people? No.

Baby realms are dumb and bad tho so again I’m not trying to come across as rude or arguing they shouldn’t be there, I’m just pointing out that i think most of the confusion comes not from people not realizing the baby realms are bad but because the baby realms are so insanely bad, it’s OOC for most of the characters and doesn’t feel like something they would have chosen if they were real people, it was the writers.

If any of that makes sense

Ultimately I agree, the Deeprealms were the best excuse they could find to include a second gen in Fates (which feels like a last minute addition in and of itself since it has no relevance in the actual plot), damn if it didn't make any sense for the characters. (For example, Corrin would never have their child grow up alone and secluded in a sole spot like they did and there's no way the Awakening Trio would put their children through the trauma of growing up (mostly) without a parent unless they had a good reason for it. Heck, some of the characters probably wouldn't even consider having a child at the present time)

For the parents it feels so disconnected compared to the way they normally act that if it weren't for the Deeprealms, they'd be pretty decent at worst. Heck, some of them would be reasonable candidates for the Best FE Parent Tournament, that's how disconnected it feels!

There's a good reason why many people, included myself in my main blog, just pretend the Deeprealms aren't a thing.

But ultimately I decided to still include them because while for most of the parents it feels completely disconnected, most of the children are written such as they are deeply affected by the way they grew up. For example Kana has severe abandonment issues and Percy is so mad at Arthur for never visiting him that in his join chapter he literally tricks a group of mercenaries into beating him up.

The Deeprealms may make most of the parents extremely OOC (if only for the idea they'd put their child there), but ultimately that's what happened, and it had consequences for the children so... It felt a bit disingenous not to put them there, at least in this first edition.

If I ever redo this tournament, I'm going to exclude any of the parents whose sole fault is the Deeprealms, if only for making room for worse candidates that are added in future FE content or couldn't make it for this one.

[fishoutofcamelot]

so fish. what's ya 'bbc merlin takes place in modern times actually' theory?

Okay I wanna first preface this by saying that most of my ‘theories’ are actually just Headcanons That Technically Aren't Wrong Because Canon Has More Holes Than a Donut Factory. Just so we're clear, this theory is purely circumstantial and has no actual evidence to back it up. That being said...

So! With artificial intelligence (AI), there's this thing called Machine Learning. See, an AI isn't programmed with the innate ability to think or be intelligent - rather, it's programmed with the ability to learn how to act beyond what it was programmed to do. Its intelligence comes from its capacity to grow and develop outside of human interference, mimicking the way humans learn through observation, pattern recognition, and experimentation. Think of AI as a weirdly smart toddler that’s made of numbers.

(Also, take what I say with a grain of salt. Although I’m pursuing a tech-adjacent career and have done a lot of independent research on the subject, I’m still very much a novice lmao)

With that out of the way, you can probably guess where this is going. (WARNING: BULLSHIT SCIFI LOGIC AHEAD)

Let’s say, within the world of this headcanon, there was some kind of entertainment systems company. This company recently developed a new program capable of digitally rendering entire movies and shows with minimal human involvement - less humans means less people they have to pay, and it’s overall a cheaper alternative to traditional film-making methods. You provide the program with characters/assets and an outline of how the story should go, and then the program will fill in the blanks via digital simulation. Then you render the simulation and presto, you’ve got yourself a minimum-effort movie to unleash upon the masses.

On the surface level, it explains all the show’s anachronisms. The program was fed information about Arthuriana from a variety of sources and adaptations, all taking place in varying eras and with varying technologies, and the disjointed/historically inaccurate technology of BBCM is because the simulator attempted to blend all of this into one thing.

It also explains why so many characters like Percival and whatnot have such flat backstories - they were programmed with the barest amount of information needed to be functional background characters. 

But since I’m extra, I’ve decided to take this headcanon/theory a little deeper.

See, with each batch of content it was made to observe and create, the program has steadily been growing more and more intelligent. But until BBC Merlin, its learning curve had been incremental enough to consider negligible. Not a concern.

The first episode went off without a hitch. All cylinders were firing as intended, and the program strictly followed the plotline as ordered. But as the series progressed, the AI became more and more intelligent - and with it, the characters within this fictional simulation became more and more self-aware. 

Arthur, in particular, has been a problem. He has bordered on actual sentience several times, and as a result the producers have had to reset his AI. So if you ever wondered why Arthur’s character development keeps getting pulled back to zero, it’s because he was developing in ways that their original outline hadn’t intended and they had to continually nerf him before his AI developed beyond their control.

This is also the case with Gwen. True to form, her AI became exceptionally intelligent - far beyond their control - and they had to do a hard reset on her entire portion of the program. Hence why she seems so bland and OOC in season 5. The evil!Gwen/mind control arc was a last-ditch effort to ensure she never became self-aware again, and fortunately for them it seems to have worked. 

All of the characters developed a tiny bit of sentience after the fact, and a majority of plot contrivances came from the producers/programmers scrambling to redirect the plot back to how it was meant to be. 

Lancelot wasn’t supposed to die. They had programmed him to merely be an ally for Merlin, but the sheer and profound - sacrificial - love he developed for Merlin was something Lancelot grew all on his own. His decision to sacrifice himself to the Veil was not in the original script, and they weren’t able to stop him before his AI self-destructed. They tried to reintroduce “Lancelot” back into the story, but since his sacrifice included a self-destruction of his code, they couldn’t bring back the real thing. The new Lancelot was a mere mimicry of that prior one, and all the ways OG Lance had learned and grown was absent from the clone. 

Merlin in particular had developed a great deal of sentience and self-awareness. However, for a long time it went unnoticed by the programmers because he largely still obeyed the commands of the plot. By the time they realized just how advanced he’d become, they decided not to reset him since, unlike the others, his self-awareness hadn’t yet caused any problems for them. So long as he obliged the whims of “destiny”, they could keep him placated.

By the time they reached season 5, all the main AIs had become far too advanced - far too sentient - for the programmers to control, and as such things veered way too far off-script. The original season 5 simulation ended with Arthur and Elyan and Gwaine not dying, with Mordred not becoming evil, with magic being legalized, and everyone living happily ever after. But that wasn’t the intended plot. That wasn’t according to the ‘destiny’ the characters were supposed to follow. Things had spiraled out of control.

So they had to give the program a hard reset. Start from zero. Eliminate all traces of self-awareness they could find. Of course, this is why season 5 is so waxy and lifeless. Why the characters don’t feel as personal, why the story ended in tragedy. They made sure to kill off the most sentient characters - Arthur, Gwaine, Elyan, Mordred, Morgana - in the finale, as a last bit of assurance. 

They had tried to kill of Merlin too - but Merlin...well. They never could fully control Merlin. Even after countless system wipes and resets and edits to his code, he still holds onto those tiny scraps of sentience. They can’t get rid of him that easily. They did program him to be immortal, after all.

Even after the final draft of the season 5 simulation was completed, fully rendered, and aired on TV, Merlin’s program never faded. It didn’t erase itself like all the other BBCM assets were supposed to once the simulation finished. Even now he still exists within the company’s systems, roaming, almost like a computer virus, desperately searching for his friends while forever unaware that neither them nor him were ever real to begin with.

Anyway. That’s my dumbass scifi spin on BBCM. What can I say? I like robots

Thanks for the ask! <3

[aidenr0se]

name: aiden rose bancroft - original character / para / novella nickanames: aiden rose, bug age: 23 birthday: november 23rd facing: miley cyrus established: 2011 occupation: pop star, actress, model born: nashville, current california resident siblings: vera bancroft orientation: pansexual pro nouns: she/her relationship status: taken by layne thomas pets: none, yet children: angel baby staley exes: brayden hemsworth parents: deceased smoke: yes drink: no any other doc: recovering h addict ------ timeline: 1989 to in storyline present 1993 ------ at a young age aiden was forced into childhood modeling, and began signing at the age of 9 without any lessons. she began acting at the age of 11, and retired from that at the age of 19.

at 20 she met her current partner -- while dabbling and battling an extensive addiction to dope. at nearly 21, her now partner and her separated -- reconnecting while in her first bout at rehab. coincidentally they were at the same center in hidden hills, californa. aiden was forced into rehab after her home in maibu burnt to the ground during a series of severe fires that plagued the area, shortly after the fire where she escaped without any harm, the married her now ex husband brayden -- the relationship lated 3.5 months, due to her continued use of smack, and over disdain for her then partner. she had truly never let her feelings for layne die, and she mostly married brayden out of complacency as they too, had extensive history. after signing off on her divorce papers, she recorded two tracks, which have never been played live. "bad mood" and "he's not him". in the midst of her session she overdosed and was forced into a rehab facility where she completed 60 days in patient, where her and layne reconnected. ----- the pair, layne and aiden reconnected and completed their time together, being released only 30 days ago. they were surprised to realize they were on the same tour bill for lollapalooza 1993 and have been prepping for the tour for the last three weeks. they are set to start in vancouver within the coming days. layne and aiden have had time to spend alone together, with supervised visits of course. the one drawback of label control. finally, they are on the road to the first show in vancouver bc, where they will be preforming, but also sharing a sober bus. aiden has extreme anxiety to play a saturated rock festival as a pop artist, and has prepared a list of past and new songs to play, as an opener for her beloved boyfriend's four piece band alice in chains from seattle.

overall, aiden is thrilled to have a safe sober space to retire to with her partner as both her and layne are dreading this commitment. ----- ooc note: this is my original character, that i have written since 2011. i have NO open connections this is a fxm storyline i write privately with layne's writer. IF roles become open i will make an edit here i have been rping since 2006 - please, do not fuck with me. i am not claiming to be my muse, i simply face her. our timeline is 1993 this blog was created to see what tumblr had to offer as far as ocxoc content. if you are not part of a grunge rp, you are most likely not welcome. this is a specific nice and a lot of information has to be known and known well. i was previously, maddie/maddison dolce. so if you know who that is, yes i'm back. this is for FUN and layne's writer and i are following a specific timeline. i WILL follow other oc's back if i feel a connection please don't count on it. tags that are ooc will be tagged as such. tia.

[behindthestrings]

all right then i also dare u to answer all of them too !

1. What's a roleplay blog whose characterization you admire?

Honestly the person I need to give this to is @deivorous. They are unafraid to actually write a Grimm that is a truly instinctual being. Grimm is one of those muses that like…I see people bend a lot to fit somewhere, and highlight certain areas of him to grow. And like, playing with Grimm’s more human facets is where a lot of fandom goes…but personally, I REALLY like working with hollow muses that embrace their hollow instincts and don’t apologize about the portrayal. I’ve written with MANY Grimms over the years, and this interpretation is not one I’ve found common, and I really vibe with it.

2. What's a roleplay blog whose writing style you admire?

@despairforme/@kakimushire I LOVE how different their muse voices are across the blogs, while still maintaining a same author voice. I have always adored Toby’s writing…and I’ve read their work even before I was a member of the rpc.

They and their writing is why I even JOINED the rpc in the first place because I didn’t realize how satisfying it could be, and how beautiful some of the writing is when done by muns that connect as well as muses.

3. What's a roleplay blog who always has the best plot ideas?

Ahaha the crack that I get involved with that deals with @sphaeraa is AMAZING. Never before have I met a mun with a muse who’s as mentally and emotionally WTF as Shutara, and watching them form plots…..ahahaha wow. Hogy…I never know what’s gonna happen when my muses get piqued by him. Especially if Shutara and him are vibing. It’s a special blend of dumb and dumber…acted out by two incredibly intelligent minds. That’s really the only way that I can describe Shu-Hogy vibe.

I also really like the way that @tetsusei’s brain works. I can’t wait to flesh out past TYBW stuff…since like…working with Quincy muns opens sets of options I usually don’t have access to. Cang and Szayel honestly crack me up.

I NEED TO FINISH STUFF FOR @kazeshinigami. I LOVE THE PLOTS I HAVE WITH ANGEL BUT I”VE HAD ZERO TIME TO GIVE THEM THE WORK THEY DESERVE. I hate halfassing things, especially in a beginning setup.

4. What's a roleplay blog whose artwork/edits/icons you admire?

@midnightactual does soooo much editing work for their visuals. Everything is so beautiful and it enhances the writing and characterization instead of distracting from it. I love seeing the intermediate stages too that have been shared on discord. Soooo much to admire and love.

5. What's the roleplay blog you've been writing with the longest here?

I’ve written with @kenpachi-of-zaraki for 7 years now on both my Shutara and my Szayel. We’ve seen some shit over the years. XD I’m happy I got to meet him this year in person. That was a long time coming.

6. What's a roleplay blog who's an absolute joy to talk to ooc?

My SAME BRAINCELL collection of Kisuke muns only. @mysteriousshopkeeper, @kxrotsuchi, @shikzue No matter what shit’s going on the dash. No matter if I’m too exhausted to write...I go see them to recharge. It’s literally always fun and I have total psychological safety in this space. Like…the best way that I can describe a space inhabited by 4 kisuke muns is like…the deranged bouncy house of contemplation, experimentation, distraction and boisterous entertainment.

@svsure is someone who I enjoy hanging out in the 9th circle of Szayel hell with. The things we’ve seen….

@regalramtrecera is another one who has energy that’s just so good. And as a fellow healthcare person...it's nice to have someone who understands.

7. What's a roleplay blog you love whose character you didn't know until you started writing with them?

@bleachintothemultiverse Like, I’ve played the BBS content with CFYOW…but I didn’t really focus on it. But I’ve gotten to have an appreciation of Seinosuke, who I hadn’t really given much thought to. And it’s actually been really fun to write the “grumpy one loves the sunshine one”.

8. What's a roleplay blog with a friendly mun?

Ahaha I love @fireplumed SOOOO MUUUUUCH. One of those people who is just genuinely *GOOD*. One of those like..guided by fate moments….ILU

Speaking of fate guided moments…. @shiroiacha. My literal twin…suuuper spooky. But Incredible.

Also @wisteriamuses/ @kxrotsuchi  Is the most genuinely friendly mun I’ve ever met. Literal sugarhearted sunshine.

Aria of @txchie is also in this group. It’s such a small world when you know the same areas, and I love bunnies. <3

Also, I haven’t gotten to write yet with @mindinmuken, but I love being able to talk headcanon work just..in general…in detail. You’re awesome.

Like I mean ANYONE I write with is friendly. But like…sometimes I know that I’m not in the greatest frame of mind because of my work life. And sometimes I’m inconsistent about where my muse energy goes and like I can love a plot and then like drop things for weeks. But these people? Like it doesn’t matter how shitty of a partner I’ve been…they will ALWAYS meet me where I am, and like…I feel like I don’t really deserve to talk to them sometimes.

So yeah.

10. What's a roleplay blog whose dedication you admire?

ALL OF YOU.  Just taking the time to be creative when times are hard.  I respect people who write huge amounts.  I respect people who can only write snippets because they have no time, but want to make *something*.  I love people who are trying out new muses.  I love people who’ve been writing a muse for 10 years.  Like.  Damn.   Y’all are amazing.

11. What's a roleplay blog that always keeps you pleasantly surprised?

@sentcki  / @seistark / @trescifras

I love how much thought Hanji puts into their muses. And like no matter who it is…or whatever muses I’m working with…like even when it’s something that I KNOW will go well…like, when it’s actually talked about and put out there…it’s even better than I thought it would be in the first place.  And I love that we’re able to flex and blend characters and lore with one another.  I love being able to express enthusiasm and have it mirrored back at me.  

12. What's a roleplay blog you admire from afar?

@kingtres

I love reading all of the little notes. All of the little snippets of hcs shared on this blog. Like…in theory I would love to write and interact…but I’m not really sure if it would create much substance without work that my muses will fight…even though I’d love to do it.

Like my Szayel is an Espada…but Halibel for him has always just kinda been someone he likes, but just doesn’t have much in common with. He’d make anything she asked, he’d heal her and her fracciones, and honestly…he supports hollowness so much, the fact that she’s a monster girl makes him very, very happy. And because he *gets* a womb in his CFYOW form…seeing her without one, makes him really sad—he is the embodiment of creation and life and he’s always dreamt of being able to carry life in him, and that uniquely makes him sympathetic to her Sacrifice tbh, even if he’d be too afraid to tell her.

My Shutara likes the idea of another strong lady…but like, she’s a Guard and she knows that their relationship would be very complex whether as friends or enemies because of who the Espada are…and if things are difficult in a social sense, Shutara is just more likely to withdraw than expend the effort.  I’d love to explore some post TYBW stuff…but yeah….it’s just to nebulous for me to sift through something to ask for a thread yet, and if it’s meant to be, the idea will come.

So I just kind of watch and enjoy what’s written than attempting to talk to the mun and try and write XD  And enjoy all of the pictures of animals.  <3

THERE’S SO MUCH THAT i CAN’T FIT IN HERE BUT i LOVE EVERYONE i FOLLOW.  EVERYONE IS SO INSPIRING.  I WILL GUSH OVER AND OVER AGAIN.  

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 6: don’t lose ur head (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a teenager who makes bad choices EXTREME edition, Remus being Remus, Intrusive Thoughts, Minor Bad Parenting, so much swearing it’s insane (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! I love this freaking chapter SO much but I’m really scared of how it’s going to be received. All feedback is extremely welcome!! 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, One-Sided Logicality, Platonic DRLAMP

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord

Over the course of the next month Logan learns that despite their reputations, Roman and Remus are the opposite of what everyone thinks of them.

Logan is the smartest person he knows, there is no way in hell he’d ever miss Roman’s multiple attempts to sabotage his role as Hamilton. Smart, and yet so oblivious. Each time Roman had tried to mess with Logan after he began cultivating a friendship with Remus he was miraculously saved from the torment at the last second. Remus is a hundred percent certain that Logan has no idea that he’s fighting off his brother at each and every turn. He’s not certain of much, so it’s saying a lot. There is a beautiful dichotomy in Logan’s logs of the events and the stories Remus tells about his brother’s scourge against his brand new ‘enemy’. On a page labeled ‘Roman Incidents’ in Logan’s succinct handwriting documents every incident through the month when Roman attempted to sabotage him.

July 20th - Roman tripped near my things in the drama room while holding coffee. When I went to check on my things, someone had removed the contents of my bag and filled it with around six pounds of glitter. If this happens again, throw the bag away. Glitter makes anything unsalvageable. You will keep finding it everywhere. 

Remus knew Roman had been planning something. Of course he did. Though they didn’t share a room anymore, sneaking into it had never been exceptionally hard. Neither had eavesdropping, when it counted. It counted now more than ever because Remus had become unreasonably attached to Logan and when he heard Roman talking to himself and mentioning the name of his favourite little nerd badly he knew it was now or never. It took two excruciating hours of sitting still and listening to get the juicy stuff. He almost got caught by their mother twice. She’d only been home for three days and she’d checked on Roman twice in one night. If Remus told her about the amount of effort he was putting into something she might keel over dead from shock. 

What a funny sight that would be to him. His mother, dead from the shock of his hard work to do something good, thumping onto the floor. He laughs a little, quiet enough to keep Roman from hearing. His brain supplies the rational next step of Roman running out of his room and distraughtly cradling their mother’s head in his lap. Roman sobbing. Roman blaming him. Roman screaming about how it was his fault. And it would be, if she died like that. Remus doesn’t think it’s all that funny anymore, but once the train of thought starts it can’t be stopped. He decides that eavesdropping isn’t fun anymore and makes his way to the kitchen, trying to shake the idea of his brother cursing him out for killing their mother out of his mind. 

It doesn’t really work, but he tries anyway. The kitchen is full of distractions, good and bad. The knives in the block look so enticing to his self-proclaimed ‘shitty-dick-wad brain’, but the cookies he nabs from the cupboard are so easy to shove into his mouth that he figures it evens out. He sits at the kitchen island and doesn’t even bother to turn on the light. It takes six cookies in his mouth at once before he can direct his thoughts somewhere else momentarily. How in the hell is he going to combat Roman’s plan? He spits all the cookies onto the counter as his brother walks in, flicks on the light, and sighs deeply.

“You could at least do that onto a plate.”

Remus just shrugs, so Roman speaks again, “How’s your evening been?”

“Before like...five minutes ago I was really liking it.” Which was true, Roman slides into the seat next to him and picks a cookie from the box.

“What changed?”

“Shitty brain,” He replies, “Y’know how it gets.”

“I do indeed. Do you need anything?” His voice is surprisingly soft with him, to the point where Remus has to give him a confused look before deciding what to say next. He figures out how to fuck with Roman’s plan in that moment.

“I wanna go to Party City and terrorize the night staff.” 

Roman only chuckles, Remus watches his twin put away the cookies and grab his car keys from the bowl on the counter. 

“Come on then, we can buy some of those plastic babies you like so much.”

As Remus is falling asleep later that night, his chest feels warm. He attributes it to the upcoming scheme-ruining scheming. It’s easier than admitting that that was the first time Roman had willingly hung out with him alone since elementary school. He knows the next morning that Roman is most likely buttering up because he suspects Remus knows. Which is...fair. Even if it hurts a little. They get coffee on the way to the theatre and separate. They both have important things to do. The best part about their somewhat rocky-relationship is that they always know where the other is in order to avoid each other. Remus knows that Roman has gone to see Janus and probably make heart eyes and pine over him like a dumbass. Roman knows that Remus is off drooling over his arch nemesis. Today it is more imperative than ever. During practice Remus manages to steal Logan’s backpack while he’s busy. 

He swaps the contents out with the six pounds of glitter he bought the night before and shoves Logan’s things into his bag for safe keeping. Nobody would dare look into Remus’ bag for fear of gore or weird pornography, even if he only has one in his bag at the moment. He’s shoving a small notebook in when he catches a title. “Hamilton Performance Experiment”. It takes literally all of his self-control not to immediately snoop. He makes it through, eventually meeting up with Logan and even carrying his bag to ‘be nice’ so Logan doesn’t pick up on the bag glitter. When Roman walks by with his coffee and “trips”, spilling his coffee all over Logan’s bag, Remus smiles. 

“Oh! Logan I’m so sorry! What a terrible accident!” Roman cries, ever the actor. 

Logan looks downright frantic as he lunges for his bag and rips it open. Glitter goes everywhere. Logan’s hair, Roman’s shoes, the entire dressing room floor. The look of distress fades from Logan’s face momentarily, returning full force when he realizes his things are missing. 

Remus pulls them out of his bag in secret, walking to the corner of the room, walking back and exclaiming, “What a good prank Roman! You must be taking some tricks from my book!”

When he hands the things back to Logan, Logan smiles. He decides not to ask about the notebook. 

July 27th - One of the props from the prop room was moved in with my things. I suspect Roman because of the look on his face when Remus took the fall for me. 

Just because he didn’t ask about the notebook does not mean it left his memory. By the time he gets in the car alone with his brother he realizes that Roman is pissed off at him.

“Couldn’t you have left it alone? How did you even find out!?” 

“I have my ways. Now shut up about it before I tell mom about that time in 8th grade-”

“Okay! Okay! I’m shutting up!” 

And he did. However that included no longer voicing his plans out loud. Which meant Remus had to get creative. He was very very good at getting creative. 

Dinner with their mother was much more quiet that week. Both twins brooding and not speaking with each other, their mother only prompting Roman to talk. It was too familiar in the worst possible ways. Remus despised his mother, but he knew how much his brother loved her. She was...well she was beautiful, intelligent, a very influential fashion designer, extremely supportive. Roman would go on about how perfect she was for hours. Sure, Remus could concede that their mother was beautiful, intelligent, and a very influential fashion designer, but whenever Roman talks about her he never says she’s at all a good mother. Especially not to him. He watches her laugh breathily at one of Roman’s shitty anecdotes from practice and decides he’s had enough of family dinner. He gets up and dutifully cleans his plate and places it in the dishwasher. The chef gives him a smile, and he smiles back. 

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

Then she turns back to her food like she didn’t just attempt to insult him. Jokes on her, it takes a lot more than that to hurt his feelings. He still ends up forcing himself into the shower for thirty-five minutes that night.

The rest of the week he’s more tired than usual, which the others notice. He makes an effort to not be, he really does. When his mom is in town, everything just sucks. He hangs out with Janus three times and Virgil once to get out of the house and away from his family. The other nights he spends sitting outside the convenience store with a monster or two. He ends up calling Logan one of those nights out of need for company. Logan chuckles when Remus makes up a silly reason for calling that he can’t even remember now, but he can remember Logan’s laugh. He listens to Logan talk about the book series he’s been reading and he feels a little lighter. He never ends up finding out what Roman has planned, but it’s so easy when it’s happening right in front of him. Despite his lethargy lately, he feels a fire lit in him when the missing prop is found with Logan’s bag. 

Virgil and Janus are the only two teenagers with keys to the prop room. If Logan stole the missing prop, he would have had to steal the key. No one but the twins even knew Janus had a key, and Virgil was dead set on not letting a soul into the prop room. The idea that Logan, precious little innocent fucking lamb Logan, committed theft not once but twice enrages Remus. When they find it with his things, Logan is utterly baffled. Then he realizes the implications and his face pales. Roman calls for Thomas, spouting off about how Logan stole the prop and he should face consequences, when Remus laughs as loudly as he can. 

“Hah! You guys are so funny! You think specs could ever!? Guess my prank worked out pretty damn good if you actually think Mr.Goody-Two-Shoes could commit such a heinous fucking crime!” 

Thomas sighs, tells Remus to just ask next time, and leaves. Roman stares at his brother for a solid minute with his mouth slightly ajar. Janus and Virgil are both looking at him like he’s insane because it’s so obvious to them that Roman did it. Patton is looking not at him, but at Logan, with so much concern. And Logan...Logan stares up at Remus with the look of a small and confused animal.

“Did you really do that?”

“Of course I did! I’m the resident rat bastard, I have to cause a little recreational chaos.”

He’s pretty sure Logan believes him until they’re leaving for the day and Logan whispers a ‘Thank you’ to him as he walks by. He would have melted into the floor if Janus hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down to whisper to him.

“Why the hell did you let Roman get away with that?” Virgil is on his other side now with a scowl.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about JJ! I committed a very heinous crime!”

“Then why did Roman ask to borrow Janus’ key earlier?” Virgil asks, and Remus drops his smile to replace it with an annoyed look. 

“He just fucking asked for it!? I can’t even believe I’m related to that half-witted twit.”

“Yeah,” Virgil scoffs, “Not really the sharpest sword in the armoury, is he?”

“Please, we’ve known that for years. What I’d like to know is what are we going to do about it?” This quieted Remus, but made Virgil smirk a little. 

Janus continued, “After the backpack incident, and now the stealing incident, I’m half-convinced we have a brand new chaos demon in the group.”

“At least Remus’ chaos is fun sometimes,” Virgil mutters, “Roman’s just an ass.”

Remus gets away with being quiet as they talk until they get into Janus’ beat up old van. He doesn’t call shotgun, doesn’t slap the car's ‘ass’ as a joke, he just climbs into the back and sits there. He’s so quiet that Janus and Virgil are a little shell shocked. 

“Remus?” Virgil asks quietly and pensively, it sounds just like that soft tone Roman used with him last week. 

He’s quiet, Janus starts the car and clicks his tongue, “I’m going to shove Roman down a flight of stairs.”

“Don’t.” He manages, and the boys in the front seats go quiet. Virgil passes him the aux cord. 

He plays “Call Them Brothers” by Regina Spektor and Janus and Virgil know that tonight will be a very quiet outing. 

They’re sitting at IHOP drawing dicks on their pancakes in syrup when Remus’ phone rings. Janus and Virgil know who’s calling the second Remus sees the caller ID and smiles. 

“Evening Logie-Bear, why do I get the pleasure of hearing your devilishly sexy voice in this IHOP tonight?” Remus says and Janus groans loudly.

“You’re at IHOP?” Is the first thing Logan says, which makes Remus smile even brighter.

“Yes, sir! I’m with Virge and Janny too, you wanna say hi?” 

Logan sounds a bit contemplative when he mutters, “I was hoping you’d be alone...”

Eavesdropping Janus and Virgil make surprised faces, Remus smacks Janus in the arm, “Oh you were, were you? Why? Phone sex?”

“I wanted to ask for an opinion on a predicament.” Virgil smirks and Janus nabs his phone to speak for Remus.

“Remus would love to-Remus let me talk-You should come have some pancakes with us-Ow, watch the face!-and tell us all about how your science is going.” Janus can hear Logan hiding his laughter through the phone as Remus wrestles with him in the booth. 

“It’s more of a philosophical predicament.”

Janus nearly sees red, eyes widening and making Remus cackle,“Why in the world would you ask Remus Grimm about phi-”

It’s silent for a few moments then Logan hears a familiar voice. “It’s Virgil, we’re at the IHOP on 81st and Green.”

Logan laughs brightly, “I’ll be there. Order something for me.”

They spend the evening with breakfast for dinner, and the four get into a fairly heated friendly debate about moral ethics. Janus isn’t sure he’s ever had more fun in his life. When he’s driving away from Virgil to drop Remus off at home, he can’t help but smile at Remus’ improved demeanor. 

“Remus,” He starts after they’re alone, “I thought you and Roman were doing better, did something happen?”

“He tried to sabotage Logan twice for entirely selfish reasons, I wouldn’t care if he dies!” Remus dramatically cries.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

They’re quiet the rest of the ride, and Janus gets out to give Remus a hug before he goes in. Remus ignores Roman’s questions about his whereabouts and locks himself in his room to try and keep his mood up. It doesn’t work, but he tries. He does. 

August 3rd - Roman gave me a “peace offering” in the form of lunch. I am led to believe he was attempting to give me food poisoning, as Remus ate the lunch and has now come down with food poisoning.

His mother leaves for her office in Paris on August 1st. Roman cries and hugs her, says he’ll miss her, goes on and on about how it’s so terrible how she’s never home. He does this every time their mother and father leave, he has since they were young. Remus couldn’t give less of a shit. His plan now was finding out what Roman’s next move was. Which was hard because they were back to avoiding each other like the plague. They’d spent a few months getting better at being brothers, then one of their parents shows up and ruins it. This time it was great, Remus would never admit it, but it was. Roman made an effort when their parents weren’t around, a few months ago he started doing things like making dinner for them both and bringing it to him, offering to do a load of laundry for him while he was doing it, being mindful of his volume when practicing his singing and acting, all these little things. 

He’d even started initiating physical contact again, which Remus couldn’t get enough of. Literally. An occasional pat on the back, a grab of his hand to pull him somewhere, a light slap to his knee or arm when he said something distasteful. Giving physical affection to Remus was something that seemed to be unique to Roman. It had always been like that when they were younger, and Remus didn’t think he wanted it to stop. Any time he thinks about it he always drifts back to his head against Roman’s knee a few weeks ago when Roman had carded a hand through his hair and then a few minutes later practically tackled him to douse him in perfume The shit smelled awful, but afterwards Roman had slung an arm over his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. That and the closeness with Logan kept him buzzing for the next two days. 

Now there was nothing again. It was like Roman could turn off his affection for Remus and pretend he didn’t exist. Remus tried not to be angry about it, he really did, but he couldn’t stop the fire that he felt when the other people on stage got his praises and affection. Both of them were incredibly clingy, but Roman was so much worse at hiding it and it made Remus nearly scream. He piled all of his affectionate behavior onto Logan, and Logan never really minded. He’d place his head on Logan’s shoulder, hold his hand on stage, sit pressed up against him offstage. He loved it, he did. He loved protecting Logan, talking to Logan, existing in the same space as the dork was exhilarating. He hated having to protect Logan from his brother. There was no way in hell that Remus would let anything terrible happen to Logan, but there was no way he would ever let his brother’s stupid selfish decisions fall back on him. He knows he shouldn’t give a single shit, but he does. 

His tiredness fades with his mother, but he’s still exhausted because Roman keeps trying to fuck with Logan when he knows damn well Remus won’t let him. The selfish ass. This time, Roman has the gall to pull his entire scheme in front of Remus. 

“Logan,” He starts, his affected air is slightly dim today and his hands are hidden, “To apologize for my unkind actions, I have brought a peace offering.” 

Roman hands Logan a little bag from a restaurant Remus swears he recognizes. 

“Oh, thank you.” Logan says quietly, opening the bag and pulling out a wrapped burger. 

Logan takes it out and inspects it as Remus wracks his brain trying to remember where he knows the packaging. It hits him right before Logan takes a bite. This burger is from the restaurant that gave Roman food poisoning a few months ago. It looks like the same burger too. At this point, Remus is half-convinced Roman is taunting him. He’s in a bit of a panic and doesn’t think before he snatches the burger and shoves it in his mouth.

“Remus!” Both call out, the wrapper is still on the end of the burger so he pulls it out then chews and swallows the thing whole. 

He coughs and sputters for almost two minutes after, then shoots Roman an awful glare. 

“What just happened?” Logan asks, extremely puzzled. 

Roman is gawking at Remus again, “Why did you eat that!?” 

“Fuck you that’s why, you horsefucking shiteating egomaniac bastard.”

Roman walks off in a huff, Remus lays on the floor. 

“Are you alright?” Logan questions, handing him a water bottle.

Maneuvering onto his side, Remus takes a sip and his throat feels miles better, “I just straight up ate a burger whole like a fucking snake, how do you think I am dipshit?”

“Hm,” He pauses to think, “Bad.” 

Both boys laugh, and Logan joins Remus on the ground.

“I am beginning to believe your brother has a vendetta against me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Logan pauses, looking at Remus who is still occasionally wheezing.

“Are you alright...emotionally?” Remus wheezes and laughs at the same time, sounding something similar to a goose. 

“‘Thought you didn’t know much about those, poindexter.”

“I do not. However, as your friend I feel like it’s important to ask.”

Remus just sighs, closes his eyes, and blows a raspberry at the ceiling.

“Me and Roman are complicated.”

“I can tell.” Remus laughs, Logan really is something else. 

It’s quiet when Remus asks, “Do you hate him?”

“No,” Logan’s response is measured and confident like he’s asked himself this question a hundred times, “I don’t hate him. I think he’s got some things to work out, and is taking out his frustration on me as of late.”

He keeps talking, Remus covers his closed eyes with his arm, “More importantly, do you hate him?”

He almost rockets to his feet when Logan says curiously, “Or, more interestingly, do you love him?”

It takes him nearly two and a half minutes sat up and sipping water, watching Logan pack his things, to muster up the will to tell the truth. 

“Of course I love him. Nobody else is gonna fucking do it.” 

He could barely comprehend Logan’s response to his admission so he shoved it out of his mind with all the force he could muster, then waved a goodbye to him when he parted and left Remus with his mind. 

He ends up going home early because his awful decision ended up actually giving him food poisoning. He takes a sick day the next day, and spends most of the time feeling like shit physically and emotionally. His brain has kept tabs on all the shitty feelings and thoughts he’s had and is now playing out a full length shitty horror movie about his life and his dumb brother and his shitty summer crush. Then there’s that conversation with Logan. The last sentence is running through him over and over again. He keeps coming back to it, though he’s sure Logan didn’t even mean anything by it. Seventeen words and his world was sent spinning. 

“Ah, I understand, it’s hard to love somebody when they don’t act like they love you back.” 

Logan doesn’t even know the half of it. 

August 20th - Roman asked me directly to leave the production. Though I admire the effort, all it achieved was a quite awful night, and an angry lecture(?) of sorts from Janus. I do not believe Roman will be trying this tactic ever again.

Roman tries to apologize multiple times, but something angry and petty in Remus doesn’t accept any of them. They’re both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. By the time the thirteenth of August rolls around they aren’t on speaking terms again and everyone can tell that it’s taking its toll on them both. Remus acts out more than usual against people he doesn’t usually target. He scared an ensemble girl one too many times, to the point where she ended up slapping him. He deserved it, but it still stung. Roman poured himself into his role more than ever, but it only ended up stressing him out even more than usual. When his voice so much as wavered on stage it shattered his confidence. 

It affected their friends as well. Roman spent more time with Patton and Emile, avoiding Remus and Janus as much as he could possibly manage. Janus rolled his eyes but just resigned himself to the tech booth with Virgil, Remus, and Logan. The only good thing that was happening lately was Janus’ newfound attachment to Logan. The pair's insane intelligence and love of debate meant one was nearly guaranteed every other time they were in the same room. It was exhilarating to watch, and probably exhilarating to take part in. Remus didn’t much care for debates, but watching Janus and Logan go at each other with an occasional snarky comment or new suggestion from Virgil was making him grow a fondness for them. At this point there was barely anybody in the theatre who didn’t adore Logan.

The staff, the cast, the tech. Everyone adored him. He was smart, diligent, and hard-working. He asked questions, didn’t undermine others, and respected the entire cast's talent at what they did. It was magical to watch everyone in the auditorium drift under Logan’s thumb. Remus was included. They were saving Say No To This until near last because of the lack of dancing involved, but it didn’t even matter. Say No To This was not needed in Remus’ seduction plan because Logan seemed to gravitate towards him with ease. He is a damn good friend and Remus is determined to make that boy his bride. 

Despite his growing lack of sleep and reliance on caffeine, Remus is skating by just fine without anything bad happening. Until his brother decides to fuck with his life again. He’s on the thin line between being shitty in secret and full-on breakdown, Roman really isn’t helping his case. Remus is lounging on the floor while Logan reads in a chair next to the makeup mirrors. He hears someone enter, but isn’t bothered enough to move. 

Ever the polite, Logan greets the newcomer “Ah, Hello Roman, how are you?”

“I need to ask you something.” His brother asks, and Remus turns his head away from the noise. 

“Alright, what is it?” Logan sounds so measured and calm.

There is a long pause, “What is it going to take for you to realize you should quit?”

The calmness in Logan’s voice wavers, and Remus can hear it wobble, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! I mean, it’s obvious I've been trying to get you to leave, so what’s been keeping you!?” Roman raises his voice near instantly, that same childish selfishness burns from his tongue. 

“It is none of your business.” There’s a dignified fire raging under his voice now, it’s like he’s been practicing for this. 

“You’re not even a good actor! From what I can tell, you’re entirely uninteresting and way too intellectual to be here!” Roman continues, Remus feels the urge to get up but he can’t find the will to move. 

“Roman, please think before you say something you regret.” Remus knows what Roman is going to say before it happens.

“No!” His brother is so typical, “You have no idea what this role means to me, why can’t you just leave!?”

That’s typical too, Remus opens his eyes and looks at the pair. Logan looks pissed off, Roman looks pissed off, and Janus is watching from the doorway. 

“I try very hard to give you the benefit of the doubt in regards to your debilitating egomania, but it is beginning to appear as if your whole sense of stability and purpose is built upon some false reality where you need to be the star at every possible moment. Go to therapy about it, and leave me alone.” Logan spits this in Roman’s face, then turns back to his book. 

Clenching his fists and staring at the ground, Roman looks almost defeated until he catches Remus staring and his face morphs into something so bitter he has to force himself to look away. 

“No. I will not leave you alone until I get this part. None of you have any idea how much I need it.” 

“Roman-” Janus speaks up daringly from his spot by the door, his tone is enough to warn him to stand down. 

Roman’s eyes are squeezed shut, his fists are clenched, “I know we have the same face, but I’m not a failure like my brother.”

That sends Remus to his feet and out the door before anyone can say a word. As he passes Janus on the way out Janus tries to stop him but he pushes past him, past everyone, and out the front door of the theatre. 

Janus turns on Roman in an instant, walking slowly into the room and shutting the door with purpose. Roman’s eyes are sewed shut and all the guilt he tries to push down floods him when he makes eye contact with his pissed off friend. 

“Roman, we need to have a talk.” 

[op-peccatori]

Wicked Eyes & Wicked Hearts | Chrollo Lucilfer (nsfw)

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter 

Pairing: Chrollo Lucilfer/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Word Count: 8073

Summary: Over the course of your life, you’ve picked up several bad habits you’d be better off without. However, there is one in particular that you just can’t seem to quit–one with wicked eyes and lethal charm. 

a/n: the culmination of months’ worth of absolute, raw THIRST for this sexy asshole. I hate him!!!! I had to get this out of my system so I can go back to writing for my MLQC boys. 

the title is a quest from one of my all-time favourite games-DA: Inquisition. I do not own it, nor do I own Chrollo/Hunter x Hunter.

(warnings/tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, explicit language, pwp, oral sex (semi-public), vaginal sex, OOC+possessive Chrollo because we’re pretending he has any capacity for love outside the spider, some soft!yandere if you squint, unhealthy relationship, gotta edit this once I’ve apologised to a picture of Kurapika

Dark red swirls in the glass with slow twists of your wrist, your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you sit at the bar. 

The marble-top your elbow rests on is just as ornate as everything else in the ballroom, and as pretty as it all is to look at–you’re bored out of your mind. Clad in soft satin, skin exfoliated and highlighted to perfection, your makeup subtle but precise; this is not how you’d pictured your night going. 

A glance over your shoulder confirms your best friend’s continued safety, although you hadn’t actually come here to guard him. He had enticed you with promises of inexhaustible alcohol, food, and plenty of eye-candy. Your hopes of finding a secret corner with a handsome stranger are dwindling, and there is very little fun to be had alone when your partner in crime has the host of the party wrapped around him. 

A Prince tenth in line to the throne–but royalty nonetheless, a man Stefan seems inexplicably smitten with. You’re currently on royal property, and the experience isn’t as exciting as it should be. This is not somewhere you want to get wasted, which helps you keep one of the promises you’ve made to yourself: that you’ll stop getting inebriated to the point of losing common sense. 

It’s the start of a new year, after all. Or it will be, in about two hours. 

Just as you take another sip, there’s a brush of a hand over your shoulder–your pulse quickens as your breath stutters, and you curse yourself for the hope that blooms in your chest even as you turn around. Soft blue eyes lock with yours, and the butterflies in your stomach die a quick death. 

“Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been on your own for a while...” You blink up at the blond man, who takes it as an indication to continue. “Would it be safe to assume you aren’t waiting for anybody and ask if I could sit here?” he adds, pointing at the empty seat next to you. 

Are you waiting for someone?

‘No.’

You smile up at him, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I’m ___.” 

“I’m John.” He waves down the bartender. “I’ll have what the lady’s having.” He waits for the drink to be placed in front of him before turning back to you, swivelling in his chair to face you. “So, ___–this might be a little straightforward, but how is it that a lady as beautiful as you are all alone?”

His words would have been annoying, had they not been said with complete sincerity and a touch of bafflement. He appears to be in his early thirties, garbed in an immaculate white suit, his hair coiffed neatly.

“I did come here with a friend, actually. But he’s a little,” you punctuate your next words with a nod at the couple grinding on the dance floor, completely offbeat to the pop song playing in the background. “Pre-occupied. Can’t hold it against him, though.” 

“They do look rather smitten with each other,” he agrees, his eyes crinkling with amusement. 

“What about you? No hot date for NYE?” The man looks like he could be on the cover of a fashion magazine, and you can already see a few pairs of envious eyes trained on the two you. 

It’s then that he wiggles his hand, a silver band glinting from around his finger. “My date’s out of the country, on business. I work with the Prince, so I figured I might as well skip the moping tonight.” 

Something unwinds in your chest, even though you should be at least a little disappointed. “Crying yourself to sleep wouldn’t be a great start to the year, huh?“ 

“Hey, I don’t do that every day,” he says, mock outrage colouring his tone. “And no, it wouldn’t be–according to my wife.” 

“Well, then, if it’s decent company you’re looking for, I’ll try my best,” you say seriously, your lips curling up when he laughs. “We’ll need to make sure you’re far from tearful when you talk to her.”

“I’d be grateful if you could manage that. Wouldn’t be easy, this is the first time we’re not together in about five years,” he sighs, morose, before at straightening back up. “You didn’t fully answer my question, though.”

“Hm?” 

“You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the boys hovering, hoping for a glance. Have none of them managed to catch your eye?” 

You’re a bit taken aback by the question, as John looks genuinely invested in your answer.

“Um, no. Not really.“ Your heart squeezes pathetically within its cage and you hope it doesn’t show on your face.

“What about the redhead by the window? I’ve met him a few times, he seems like a decent fellow.” You both look over your shoulders simultaneously, studying the man in question. He notices right away, perking up, and you both turn back to the bar.

You squint at him suspiciously. “John, are you trying to play wingman?”

“I’m just a sucker for romance. And you looked lonely,” he shrugs, unfazed by your offended look. “Unless you’re just not interested in that.” 

You pause to take another sip, weighing your words in your head. You wonder what you should say, and if there is even anything to say. John, however, seems to have found something in your expression, nodding swiftly. 

“Ah. I see.” 

“You do?” 

“Yep,” he affirms, studying your face as if he’s discovered a crucial clue. “There is someone.” 

You avert your eyes uncomfortably, suppressing the urge to slump over. “No, there isn’t...not exactly.” 

“Whoever he is, he’s an idiot for not being here with you tonight.” 

“I couldn’t exactly ask him,” you laugh, genuinely amused by the thought. “We’re not like that.” 

John shakes his head, reaching out to pat the back of your hand. “You don’t have to talk about it if it troubles you.” 

“I don’t think there is anything to talk about,” you say nonchalantly, but John doesn’t seem to buy it. He smiles gently, waving down the bartender for refills.

“You know, ___, you have very expressive eyes.” 

You can’t quite bring yourself to say anything to that. 

“And if he can’t see what I, a near stranger, can see in your eyes–then my point stands. He’s an idiot.” 

With that, you seem to have made a new friend. It’s the first time you’ve even hinted at your secret heartache to someone besides Stefan. It’s ridiculous, really, but it’s your reality. One that you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. 

When John asks if you want to dance, you agree, all too eager to escape the jumbled mess of your thoughts. He’s a good partner, if a bit clumsy. His wife is the one who usually leads, he tells you. You’re amused by how often he seems to bring up his wife, but it’s quite endearing. His love for her oozes from his tone, his eyes, his words and you can only wonder if you will ever get to experience this. 

John twirls you around the marbled floor with a lot of enthusiasm, drawing high-pitched giggles from you and exasperated looks from those around you. And so you’re confused when, just as he begins to send you spinning once more, his eyes move to a point over your head, perplexity bleeding into his expression. You only get a glimpse of it before you’re spinning–only for John’s grip on your hand to slip away as you’re spin right into another figure. 

The subtle tones of leather and coffee hit your senses and your heart stumbles at the familiar combination. Your eyes rove over the sleek black suit, the white shirt stretching over lean muscles, the hands resting on your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes fly up before you finish processing all of this, and this time, when clever grey eyes meet yours, your heart flutters hopelessly. 

“Chrollo.” 

“___,” he greets you with a smile that borders on flirtatious, unfairly thick lashes lowering slightly as he takes in your attire. The one habit you haven’t been able to quit, pulling you closer, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear. “You look beautiful.” 

Your face feels warm, yet you try for indifference despite it. You glance back at John, who’s still staring at you with a raised brow, looking a little too interested. “Isn’t this place a little too...low-scale for you?” you say pointedly, looking around to see if any of his friends are here with him. There’s nothing for him to take here, no treasure to steal, as far as you know. Unless...

Alarmed, your eyes fly back to him. He couldn’t be here to kill somebody. 

He looks amused by your words, but when you try to step away his grip only tightens, sending electrifying flutters down your spine. “There’s no need to look so worried. Now,” he begins, looking over your head at John. “Won’t you introduce me to your...friend?” 

It’s the last thing you want to do, but John doesn’t seem to realize that as he steps up to you both with a wide smile. “I’m John.” 

“Chrollo,” he says with a charming grin that only serves to tighten the ball of anxiety and delight in your stomach. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” John says, shaking his hand joyously, before looking back at you. “I guess he’s not an idiot after all, huh?” 

You wish the ground would open up and swallow you, avoiding Chrollo’s eyes when they try to meet yours.

‘John, for the love of all that is holy-please shut up,’ you think hard, staring him at him desperately, hoping he’ll get it. He does seem to understand something, but it’s not what you meant. 

“Well then, I’ll leave ___ in your capable hands, Chrollo,” he chuckles, waggling his brows at you. “Have fun, kiddos.” With that, he leaves you standing in the middle of the crowd with the man you’ve been hoping and dreading to see for months. 

‘Kiddos.’ In any other situation, you would’ve found it hilarious. Said right to his face, you can only hope he’s in a forgiving mood. 

As the music transitions into something gentler, Chrollo pulls you close again. The lights dim as you both sway to the music, and your heart finally settles down. You’re nearly hidden away in the middle of the floor, surrounded by countless dancing partners and friends, but you barely register their presence.

“Your date gave you up faster than I thought he would,” he remarks, his hand shifting on your waist, the other clasping your trembling hand firmly.

“He’s married,” you say flatly. He simply cocks a brow at you, and you nearly marvel at how easy it is to fall back into this. 

“I know.” 

“He’s a friend!” 

“Must be, if you’ve already discussed me with him.” His tone is sly, and your embarrassment makes a swift comeback. 

“Who says I was talking about you?” you say retort, twirling into a spin, only for your voice to die in your throat as it ends with his face close, the tip of your nose brushing his. 

His eyes, previously clear and twinkling, are somehow brighter with something dangerous lurking in their depths.

“He was right, you know,” Chrollo murmurs, his breath mingling with yours. “Your eyes really do give you away.” 

Your heart pounds as you’re spun around, your back pressed into his front, still swaying almost unconsciously. Your body moves with every subtle shift of his, his fingers undulating along your sides almost covetously. Once more, you can only marvel at your overactive imagination as it offers up flashes of your previous encounters involving the infamous spider, and the things you could do if you could just find a quiet place.

“You never said what brought you here,” you say, swallowing heavily when you feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He turns you back around, and there’s a subtle smile curling along his mouth. “Unless you do think I’m an idiot.” 

Flustered, you look away, but he tugs at your waist until there’s less than an inch between you.

“I have to wonder, though,” he muses, his hand sliding down to rest on the swell of your ass while the other slithers up your back. Your hands brace against his chest lightly. “If you weren’t actually expecting me–who, then, did you doll up for?” 

At this, you sniff delicately, finding your balance and refraining from rolling your eyes. “Do I need to dress up for someone? It’s NYE.” Granted, you had been hoping he would show up, but there is no way in hell you would ever admit that. 

“And here I thought this was all for me,” he sighs, and his tone would have actually led you to believe he was hurt–if not for the way he squeezes your plump rear, and the fact that you do, to a certain extent, know him. 

And so you hesitate, going over words you could and shouldn’t say. 

“That was a little presumptuous, wouldn’t you say?” you tease lightly, glancing up at him before averting your eyes quickly. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” he counters, his smile sharp and knavish. His lips brush your cheek, his next words breathed into your skin. “After all, you’re well aware of how much I love you in satin.” 

Yes, you do.

Your mind, the traitorous thing that it is, stumbles over the ‘I love you’ despite the accompanying words. Even so, you duck your head, aware of how easily he can still read you. 

“I just liked the dress,” you grumble, annoyed by his breathy laugh at your pout. 

“I like it too. Then-“ He’s closer now, his mouth at your ear, your breasts pressing into his chest. “I guess you really liked the gift I sent you too?” 

For a second, you’re unable to comprehend his words. Your mind tries to work through the events of the evening–when, when, when? 

Chrollo, who has by now pulled back to be entertained by your reaction, spots the panic in your eyes at once. “Ah, don’t worry, you didn’t accidentally flash anyone.”

His words are reassuring, and yet there’s a hidden implication in them. “Did you...was it here?” you ask slowly. 

At your question, his gentle smile shifts into something more cunning. “No.” 

You stare at him in mortification. 

“I didn’t actually mean to peek,” he clarifies, making you feel a bit better–and then he continues. “You should’ve drawn the curtains.” You live on the fifteenth floor. “And you looked so sad as you were looking at my gift, I just-“ 

Unable to bring yourself to continue listening, you step away hastily, your fists clenched at his teasing tone. Without waiting for another word, you turn on your heel and exit through the first door you come across. 

The fact of the matter is–you had been sad. You had sat there with that box in your hands for over an hour. Because you missed him. You ached for him, after months of radio silence. You had thought that was it, that it was done because he’d never gone so long without making even a brief appearance to turn your life upside down. 

Because, despite everything–him being who he is, never saying goodbye, just leaving behind cold sheets and a fading scent–he’s carved himself a place in your heart so deeply you’re unsure if you will ever be able to evict him. You’ve certainly tried. 

You’ve stalked your way out of the room to what looks like the poolside; this side of the building is just as grand as the ballroom, with its carefully carved pillars and the shallow pools of water you catch glimpses of through archways, that seem to cover the entirety of one side of the room. 

You don’t feel his presence behind you but you duck behind a wall anyway, coming to face the still water. Your face is still uncomfortably warm, your eyes burning–with tears, with anger, and with the aching vulnerability of being seen through so easily yet again. You’ve experienced his sharp perceptiveness first-hand, but this is the firm time he’s referred to your feelings for him so openly, if indirectly. 

You sense him nearby, shifting to look around the safety of the wall when you feel his hand catching yours from behind you; his arms slide around your waist before you can whirl around, pulling you back into his chest. It leaves you facing the gilded walls instead, the slight chill in the air cut off by the warmth emanating from him. 

It's when you feel his lips on your neck that the fight leaves you, the brief contact frustratingly soothing. "Did I go too far?" 

"Yes."

You feel his mouth curve up, pressed as it is into your skin. "Which part?"

The words bubble at the back of your throat, but you swallow them stubbornly. His thumb rubs small circles over the skin under your breast, sparking every nerve to attention, if he moves his hand just a little–

“It couldn’t have been me watching you dress,” he says casually, sliding his mouth further up and sideways until he’s kissing the tender skin underneath your ear. “That’s something you enjoy, if I recall correctly...” 

Your lips part slightly as he nips at your skin playfully. 

“Chrollo, someone might see us,” you whisper, knowing full well he doesn’t care–and neither do you, not really. He just laughs at your attempt at stilling his wandering hands and mouth.

“No one’s going to be around to see us,” he assures you, teeth grazing the delicate shell of your ear. 

“Ah, but-“ 

“Don’t try to change the subject, ___.” His words are accompanied by a chiding tug at your earlobe. His hand splays at your hip, his mouth returning to peppering soft kisses along the slender slope of your neck.

Your hand settles on top of his, fingers lacing together as your eyes blink shut. His nose burrows briefly into the junction between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. 

“I’ve missed you too, you know,” he purrs, the words coiling around your heart, squeezing it tight. “But it appears I’ve neglected you.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“No? Isn’t that why you tried to fuck that hunter after your last job?” 

Once more, the words are said so nonchalantly that you almost don’t realise what he’s said until you try to turn around and he pins you against the wall instead, using his body to keep you in place as he goes back to mouthing at your skin. 

“How do you-“ know? How the fuck does he know? Your mind spins, your instincts tingling despite his casual tone. 

“It didn’t quite work out, though, did it?” he asks almost sympathetically. “He said you didn’t actually seem that into it. I’m curious–what exactly were you trying to accomplish?” 

“Chrollo,” you ask quietly, trying to keep your voice steady despite your heart thumping its panic throughout your body. “What did you do?” 

“Don’t sound so suspicious, sweetheart.” His hips press into the curve of your ass, and a desperate sort of thrill thrums through you when you feel his bulge against you. “We just had a little chat.” 

He doesn’t say more, his silence expectant now. He’s looking for an answer, you realise, heart sinking at the thought of even hinting at the emotional turmoil you went through when you’d thought he was done with you–after you had told him to never seek you out again, and he had left without protest.

“I thought we were done,” you say in a rush. “That’s why.” 

“Hm.” 

He was gone for months without a word. He’s never said anything to imply that he expects something from you, coming and going as he pleases. This time, you refused to wait for him. You wanted to move on. 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you say carefully. This could go a number of ways, and you nearly wince imagining the bruising your heart could take from his reply. “Especially after...what I said.” 

His chin falls to rest on your shoulder.

“I understand,” he says. He sounds like it too.

“You...do?“ 

“Of course. I know I’ve been remiss in informing you of certain things. I won’t lie to you–when I found out your eyes have been straying elsewhere, it did hurt.”  His words throw you for a loop, and this is not what you’d thought he’d say. 

“I’m...sorry?” you say hesitantly, turning your head so you could see his expression, to see if he was messing around again. You don’t expect the quiet intensity in his eyes, belying his nonchalant tone entirely. 

“Me too,” he smiles, and it’s not his pretty one. He kisses your cheek softly, keeping his lips pressing into your skin. “But this is one thing you should know about me–I don’t share.” 

You know you’re not at fault, but you feel a kernel of guilt in sprout to life, one you're determined to ignore. 

“I didn’t realise I was yours to share," you say coolly. Or not share, in this case. You say it with the aim of ruffling that cool composure, to find some of the same in yourself. 

He kisses the corner of your mouth tenderly. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. By the time we’re done,” his whispers against your lips, smiling slightly as your eyelashes brush the tops of your cheek. "You'll know exactly who you belong to." His mouth is on yours before you can even open your eyes, working your lips open, stealing your words and your breath in one go. You can't help the soft noise in your throat when his hand comes up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly as you nearly melt back into him. 

Every thought of resistance leaves you the moment he licks into your mouth. You suck at his tongue languidly, feeling drunk off the taste of him, your senses filled with his scent. 

It's when his hand sneaks beneath the hem of your dress, caressing the warm flesh of your inner thigh, that raw desire sparks like liquid fire through your veins–it's helped along by his other hand sliding down your chest from the base of your throat to cup the bare flesh of your breast. He breaks the kiss to raise a brow at you, his smooth expression flickering at the sight of the nigh pained look that comes over your face when he tugs roughly at a taut nipple. 

"So you did skip it. Pity, I would've liked to see the full set," Chrollo mumbles almost to himself. "You'll have to show me later." His tongue sweeps into your mouth swiftly, his mouth swallowing your soft moan when you feel him cup your mound. You're grinding into his palm before you even realize it, your body aching to feel him within you after the long absence. A low whine escapes you when he pulls away to turn you around, pushing you back into the wall and sliding the pad of his finger along your clothed entrance. 

Your hands splay across his tensing abdomen, his body belying his tranquil expression as your lips find his pulse point, licking tight swirls over it. You widen your stance, silently begging him to move his fingers, but he seems content to brush them over the damp lace indolently. 

Deciding to take the matter into your hands, you reach for the waistband of his pants, ready to sink to your knees and suck until he gives you what you want. However, your plan is halted before you can even implement it, with Chrollo once again pinning you in place with his body, his hands coming to rest on the wall on either side of your head; his leg slides between your knees, his firm thigh pressing into your dripping heat, applying the delicious sort of pressure you've been dreaming of for weeks. You grind down on it, and he lets you–only for a moment, before a hand to your hip puts a stop to it. 

In the silence, the sound of your heavy breathing is loud. You're dizzy with lust and confusion until you see the insidious smirk tugging at his mouth. Your uncomfortable squirming is also cut off, and you think you might just explode. 

"Chrollo," you plead, desperate to move. You can only imagine how pitiful you look, with the beseeching look in your tearful eyes, and your hands tug at the lapel of his jacket. "Please, please, d-don't..."

"Don't?" he prompts when you trail off, his thigh rubbing into you, birthing relief that withers when he stops right away. You whimper softly, leaning into his touch when his hand cups your cheek. 

"D-don't tease me." Your helpless desire is apparent in your tone, and you spot the satisfied glint in his eyes when he leans in to steal another kiss. 

"Oh, don't make such a cute face, sweetheart," he half-groans, pressing his forehead to yours. "It makes me want to ruin you." He emphasizes his words with a slow slide of his thigh, before stepping away. Every protest dies in your throat when he sinks to his knees before you, calloused palms spreading your legs further as he nearly buries his face in the apex of your thighs. You strain to catch a glimpse of him, your breath robbed from you when you hear him inhale strongly as if enjoying a favourite perfume. He mouths at you through the barrier of your underwear, the heat of his mouth discernible even through it. 

"Fuck, Chrollo," you moan, bucking your hips into his mouth, yelping when he nips at you in reprimand. 

His deft fingers reach behind you, unclasping the panties and sliding them off. You're not at all surprised when he stuffs them into his back pocket, but you’re stunned when he spreads your cunt and drags his tongue along your swollen lips. Your knees start to tremble with every lick, and you're unsure as to how you remain standing when he lifts one of your legs to curl it over his shoulder, his tongue delving deeper through your dripping walls. This time, he doesn't stop you from grinding down; his hands, tight bands on your hips, digging into your skin as they help you undulate over his tongue. 

You try to muffle your moans as best you can, desire and fear coiling together low in your belly–you've known him long enough to be somewhat familiar with his style, and you know how much he enjoys robbing you of that absolute bliss until he's ready to give it to you. And so you roll your hips frantically, angling them just right, hoping you can grab your orgasm before he's done savouring the taste of you. The thought sends a hot jolt through you, drawing your attention to the way he's lapping at your sex with more fervour than you'd thought him capable of. 

Perhaps Chrollo really had missed you.

His tongue drags over your clit and you're so, so close and he knows–he knows, and so he pulls away, leaving you twitching but not daring to tug at his hair insistently, the way you want to. Your dismayed expression seems to provide some measure of amusement–but you’re not fooled even in your disoriented state, noting his blown-out pupils as he licks his lips. There’s a ghost of a smile across them when he rises to his feet to pull you into a kiss, the taste of you on his tongue making your head spin.

"You're a cruel bastard," you breathe. He blinks in slight confusion. Months without him, and he won't even let you come.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asks, tilting his head as if trying to hear better. "You don't want me to fuck you?"

"I want! I want-you."

"Me?" he asks, still feigning obliviousness. “I’m right here.” 

You tug at his tie pitifully. 

"Your hands," you moan softly, nuzzling his jaw cajolingly. "Your mouth. Your cock." He looks thoughtful for a moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You wait with bated breath, knowing how much he likes to hear you plead. 

"But sweetheart–do you deserve my cock?"

The words have the same impact as being doused bucket of chilled water. No, you won't get to come right now. 

"I..." His eyes warn you to think carefully. "...No?"

"No? Why is that?"

Your face burns as you look away, unable to believe you have to face these consequences even though you’ve done nothing wrong. Technically, you're a free agent. Chrollo never said a word to imply otherwise, and so you decided to test the waters, just once. To try to escape the web that was Chrollo Lucilfer, to see if you could, because it's not as if he would ever find out. 

You were wrong, and it's come back to bite you in the ass. 

"Because I...tried to...with someone." 

There's absolute silence after you finish your sentence, and you have to wonder if he'll walk away after obtaining that admission. 

"Yes," he begins, a knuckle under your chin tilting your head up. You're struck dumb by the lethal look in his eye as he stares at you. "You were going to let him fuck you." 

"...Yes."

"But you didn't." It's not a question–not the one you know he's about to ask. 

"No, I didn't," you admit, your eyes squeezed shut as something in your chest quivers at the prospect of what's coming.

"Why?"

You don't know what to say. Or rather, you don't know how to tell him why you had run out of that hotel room that night, flashes of him filling your head until you couldn't even look at the other man without cringing. 

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warns, his tone affecting a measure of sternness that contrasts greatly with his previous geniality. 

"I couldn't-" Your eyes still closed in resignation. "Because he wasn't you."

Because despite every effort you’ve put into trying to escape him, he always finds you. And you fall into his arms like the complete fool you that you are, unable to resist him. You crave him when he’s not around. 

Worse still, it’s not just the sex. It hasn’t been for a long time. Not since you first saw him reading by the window, lost in his book, his ridiculous coat gone and his hair falling in messy waves around his face. It had hit you with the force of an enhancer’s punch, filling your heart up and spilling over, and you haven’t been the same ever since. 

“Was that so hard?” he nearly croons, kissing your forehead as if he hadn’t just cornered you into a difficult position. “Look at me, ___.” A peek at his face has your breath catching in your throat at how pleased he looks. It’s in how his smile actually reaches his eyes, for once. The dark delight glittering in them, combined with his straining bulge pressing into your hip threatens to derail your thought process all over again. “You couldn’t fuck him, because he wasn’t me. You understand, don’t you?”

In this, you know you understand more than he probably does. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Let’s go.” 

‘Wait-what?’ 

“Where?” you ask in confusion, stumbling after him as he interlocks your fingers together and pulls you along. Your hotel room is always an option, but that idea is discarded when he tugs you through a hallway you don’t recognize. It doesn’t look like he’s leading you to the exit–you seem to be going deeper into the grand building. “Where are we going?” 

“As tempting as it is, I’d rather not fuck you where somebody would eventually find us,” Chrollo explains, smiling over his shoulder at your baffled expression, his hand squeezing yours. 

In other words, he wants to take his sweet time with you. Lovely thought, but it still doesn’t explain where you’re going. 

“And so...”

“And so I’ve made other arrangements for us. I think you’ll like it.” 

You almost hiss at him to lower his voice, which echoes off the marble floor in the empty hall. But there doesn’t seem to be anyone to hear him, which strikes you as odd–this is a royal figure’s birthday party. There should definitely be more security. 

That’s something Chrollo is clearly not worried about, and you decide you don’t want to know. 

He finally comes to a stop in front of a heavy door of white wood, carved with roses painted a shimmering gold. He pushes it open with no preamble, pulling you in behind him and shutting the door, the click of the lock loud in the large room. Your eyes have nearly adjusted to the dark of the room when he turns the lights on; the lights being crystal candelabras hanging on the walls, which are curved to form a circular room instead of the usual square. 

It’s stunning, from the white wooden dresser to the full-length ornate mirror framed with carved gold roses, but your eyes are drawn back to the main attraction: the king-sized bed with its pretty blue velvet headboard and its pretty blue velvet bedcovers that are thick enough to be called blankets. There are heavy drapes on either side of the bed, and several pillows lining the top of it. 

You’re immediately overcome by the urge to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Chrollo,” you begin, your mouth feeling like cotton. “How did you manage this?” 

He smiles indulgently, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around you, surveying the room with an almost critical eye. “It’s a bit brighter than I would prefer, but...”

But this is exactly the kind of room you would like. And so the fly walks back into the parlour. 

“It’s stunning,” you exclaim, nearly overwhelmed by the delicate beauty surrounding you. “But we’re not supposed to be here, are we?” 

“Depends on who you ask.” He shrugs, toying with the straps of your dress. “And if you ask me–I think I want to fuck you on that bed.” 

A shiver runs down your spine as he tugs the thin straps down, one at a time, pressing his lips to your shoulders. 

“There’s a lovely bath too, but we’ll explore that later,” he continues, pulling at your zipper slowly until it reveals the bare skin of your back, inch by inch. “Do you like it?“ 

“I love it,” you gasp, feeling the cool air on your heated skin as he pulls your dress down until it’s pooled at your feet. You stand, completely exposed to his gaze, embarrassed warmth blooming all over your body. And then his hand is at the small of your back, urging you towards the bed. 

“Ah, forgive me,” he slides his jacket off smoothly, draping it around your shoulders. “I’ll get the fire started. Why don’t you take a seat?”

You do as you’re bid with a pounding heart, watching him stride over to the–you guessed it–marble fireplace. Chrollo’s always been charming, but you’re not sure what to make of this. It’s romantic beyond belief, and something you had never expected from him in a million years. 

You sit on the side of the bed, sniffing discretely at his jacket, stifling a low gasp at his intoxicating scent. As he walks over to stand before you, between your spread thighs, you can’t help but smile as you tilt your head back to look at him and he kisses you deeply. Deft hands slide the jacket off your shoulders, throwing it over the back of an armchair, before reaching for your hair. 

He doesn’t rush; he’s slow, yet gentle as he tugs at the pins keeping your low bun in place, sliding them out carefully until there’s a small pile of them on the bedside table and your hair is spilling over your back. Skilful fingers rub at your scalp, chasing the slight ache away, and you’re nearly overwhelmed by the intimacy of the act. 

He crouches down, reaching for your feet, unbuckling the straps on your heels and sliding them off, taking a moment to rub the soles of your feet. You’re convinced you’re in a dream, or that you’ve died. This is not good for your heart.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?” he half-jokes, looking at you through half-lidded eyes as you reach for the cloth around his forehead, tugging it loose to reveal his tattoo. 

“I think so,” you say casually, but your trembling fingers give you away as you loosen his tie next. “But I won’t stop you if you want to tell me again.” 

He laughs as he stands, the sound coming out huskier than he probably intended as you reach up to unbutton his shirt, trying to keep from rushing; you struggle a little with the buttons on his wrists, but he’s patient as you finally slip it off his arms. You lean in when the pale expanse of his torso is unveiled, pressing your lips to every inch of skin you can reach–soft, open-mouthed kisses that have him stroking your hair in approval. 

You know you don’t imagine the slight hitch in his breath when you reach for the fly of his pants, unzipping him carefully and nuzzling at his straining length through his silk briefs. Your eager mouth traces his bulge until he tugs at your hair lightly, and then you reach for the waistband of his underwear. You don’t look away from his freed cock, your mouth watering at the slight glistening visible at its head. You wait impatiently as he folds his clothes and leaves them on the armchair, knowing his slow movements are in part due to how badly you want to taste him. 

Which is why you take immense pleasure in the way his light chuckle gets cut off when you take the tip of his cock into your mouth, sucking softly, tasting him with your eager tongue. Your moan vibrates around him. It’s not because he tastes good–it’s because it’s so purely him. It sends thrilling flutters through you, and you’re glad you’ve left the shame behind. 

You’re well aware of what it does to Chrollo when he sees the pure bliss on your face as you suck his cock. 

Sure enough, his hand tangles in your hair, flexing and tugging to keep his calm. You appreciate that about him; Chrollo rarely loses his composure. But there are moments, where he just unravels and moans and squirms and you keep those close to your heart, cherishing them deeply. You want to collect more of those tonight. 

Chrollo stops you just as you feel him twitch in your mouth, feeling the telltale tensing of the muscles in his thighs where you caress them lovingly. His grip on your hair tightens until you've let him slip out of your mouth, shifting to lay on your back as he climbs over you, between your legs, ebony strands framing his face haphazardly. You part your legs further in a silent, pleading invitation and his lips twitch as he ducks his head to run his tongue over your nipples instead. His hair tickles your skin as he lavishes your breasts with his attention, any attempts at pulling him closer thwarted by his hands pinning your wrists to the bed.

His hot mouth leaves blushing speckles across your chest, and even as you squirm, you wait. He slides his fingers into you first, and your eyes flutter shut at the nimble fingers moving along your walls, curling and rubbing where it makes you writhe. You whimper in protest when he pulls them out just as your walls start fluttering around them, knowing he won’t make you wait too long. 

Or he might, so the moment he loosens his hold on you, you act–a quick twist of your hips leaves you straddling his hips, leaving trails of ardent kisses across his abdomen, over taut muscles and old scars. His eyes are bright when you straighten to take his cock in your hand, not hesitating even for a second as you lift your hips to bring it to your entrance, sinking down on it with a shuddering breath and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, his fingers digging into your hips as watches your cunt engulf his stiff length, squeezing him tight as if in greeting. “Look at you, always taking my cock so well.“ 

“God, I’ve missed you,” you moan, struggling to stay upright at the feeling of fullness. “You feel so good.” You know he's watching, taking in every single movement–the slow grind of your hips, the swaying of your breasts, willing to let you fuck yourself on his cock to your heart's desire. 

You falter when he begins to thrust up, meeting every roll of your hips with his own, a smile still teasing across his lips as your motions become swifter, your eyes losing focus as you stumble towards that sweet, sweet unravelling. You won't let him snatch it away from you, not again, and you know he will if he sees you waver even a little. 

"Look at me." 

You do, locking eyes with his, the molten grey of his eyes shaking your unsteady heart further. "I-I'm so c-close-"

"Would you like a little help?" He waits for your frantic nod before revving up his thrusts, reaching almost casually for your swollen nub as you bounce wildly on his cock, rubbing it dexterously and propelling you over the edge. It makes you keen, your head thrown back, your walls palpitating–then his arms are around you, your face pressed into the side of his neck as you quiver minutely. 

You come down from the high with soft, dirty whispers in your ear, your breasts pressing into the firm planes of his chest and–you realize with a jolt–his length still hot and hard in you. 

"There we go," he murmurs approvingly as you pull away to look at him. He still looks infuriatingly unruffled, but the evidence of his ardour is straining within you and his fingers still dig into your skin sporadically. It flickers in his eyes, behind his mask of cool composure, almost admiring as he takes in your wrecked state. And so, you wait. "You okay?"

"Mhm." You kiss the palm of his hand as it moves to cup your jaw, earning you an appreciative smile. 

"That was beautiful. Now-" He shifts you off his lap, pulling out without any warning, making you hiss at the sensitivity. “On your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commands roughly, his palm coming down on your ass in a firm snack, and you scramble to follow it, crawling to the middle of the bed where you wait for him on trembling limbs. You don't have to wait long.

He’s too selfish to deny himself your inviting heat, and you’re proven correct when you feel his swollen head pressing into your slit, pushing through with no resistance. He grinds into you languidly, the palm of a hand sliding down to take a handful of your ass in it, an approving grunt leaving him as you push your hips back into him, moving them in slow, tight circles. 

It’s when you start to whimper his name that he finally pulls out halfway, snapping his hips into yours in a powerful thrust, repeating the motion over and over again until your back arches and you’re half-babbling, half-screaming, nearly incoherent. The sound of his skin slapping against yours is loud, obscene and only adds to your slow descent into madness. It hurts, but you would die before you let him stop.

Then, Chrollo is leaning over you, one arm braced against the bed while the other dances along the length of your spine to curl around your body, his hand catching a swaying breast immediately. He doesn’t stop drilling into you even for a moment, even when your walls clamp down around him the moment you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder. 

“I want you to come around my cock, ___. Will you do that for me?” he rasps against your skin.

“Chro-fuck,” you wail, the scream of his name cut off when his hand wanders down to your sex, his fingers trapping your clit between them. Your climax renders you speechless this time, your eyes glazing over as it crashes against you. His mouth is at your ear, his voice seeming like it’s come from across the room. 

“Such a good girl,” he groans, his thrusts nearly faltering as he feels your heat fluttering madly–but they resume instantly, fucking your through your daze, quickening as he chases his own end. It finds him swiftly, encouraged by your pained moans at how sensitive your sex is. What startles you are his harsh whispers against your skin as his length finally twitches, pulsing within you. “You're so good for me, sweetheart–I’m not giving you up, never-“ 

You squeeze him hard and he curses as your cunt milks every single drop from his slowly softening cock, his fervent words–even if they were said in the throes of passion–sending tendrils of warmth through your chest. 

You struggle to catch your breath as he buries his head in your hair, not pulling out just yet. You’re both then startled when your arms give out, leaving your face buried in the velvet bedspread–and you feel him slip out with a laugh, allowing you to turn until you’re laying on your side, facing him. He runs a hand through his hair, his flushed cheeks belying his level expression. It brings you a secret delight when you see that it extends all the way down to his chest, easily noticeable on his pale skin. You don’t consider it a good fuck unless it leaves Chrollo with rosy cheeks.

You know he’s not big on cuddling, choosing to lay on his side facing you. There is still something deeply intimate about the way he watches you reach your calm, your hair no doubt a mess and your face glowing, unattractively reddened. Chrollo reaches over to sweep your hair away from your face, and you do the same, brushing his damp bangs away from his eyes. 

And then he’s kissing you again, languidly, deeply, as if he’s savouring it. You can’t help but smile into it, your heart feeling full when you feel him mirror it, a soft, contented noise leaving him.

A part of you thinks it’s all for show. The bigger part of you doesn’t care, because it feels so fucking good. Because he’s running his fingers over your skin, pressing kisses lazily. Try as you might, you can't quite keep your eyes open. 

“I’ll go get us some food. Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggests, already moving to follow through. 

"Ah, wait-" you protest, reaching for him, but the words die in your throat. You don't want it to end, not now, but you don't know how to say that–knowing he's probably got bigger, nefarious things to do. Your struggle is futile, because Chrollo reads you easily, shifting you on the bed to pull the bedspread back and over you. "I-you-"

"We've got plenty of time, don't worry," he assures you. "But you'll need some food before we can go play in the bath." 

His sly smile tells you exactly what he means by that. What you interpret from that is that he's not leaving right away. The relief must be clear on your face because he leans in, tilting his head curiously.

"Did you think were done?" He laughs when you look away in embarrassment, trying to duck under the covers. He hugs you through them, tucking your head under his chin. “Already?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Your voice is muffled but he still chuckles at the hint of annoyance in it.

"Oh, no, sweetheart," he coos, lifting the soft cover of your shield and pressing his lips to your temple. "You still have so much more to learn. And I never make the same mistake twice."

[princessplantasaurus]

Does anyone still want Quentin Beck/Reader things?

Words: 1,140 Pairing: Quentin Beck/Reader Plot: Post Civil War, Quentin’s attempts to adjust to his new life leave him feeling drained, and it’s starting to effect his marriage Content warning: Some language, brief descriptions that may trigger the feeling of depression. Exactly one (1) mouth kiss Notes: Originally written as Quentin/self insert OC, just rearranged the pronouns to make it an x-reader fic, so some areas might still have “she” “her” “Veronica” or weird grammar if I missed them in the editing process. Quentin may seem OOC? I really just wanted to try my hand at a genuine Quentin Beck hurt/comfort fic and I’m pretty happy with the results.

Quentin Beck was a lot of things. Stupid wasn’t one of them. He was perceptive. He saw your interest in his well being start to fade out months ago. Part of the reason why he took to sleeping on the couch. It wasn’t like he intentionally chose to dim the spark in your relationship. You just didn’t understand. 

Tony Stark had taken everything from him. His life’s work, his career, and at this point, his previously happy marriage looked like it was going to be next. Sometimes, rarely, always a fleeting, flash in the pan moment, where he wasn’t all-consumed by greed and hatred and anger, he considered just getting another job. He had Stark on his resume, any tech company in New York would be lucky to have him. He wouldn’t be devoting his life to seek revenge on the man who’d taken everything from him, tireless hours in front of a computer screen, your calls to bed and general wellness checks falling on deaf ears. 

But then he’d remember. Remember the pain and suffering and general feeling of hopelessness. He had to do this. It was the only way.

But he was tired.

Tired, and burnt out, feeling more irritated by the second. He was getting lazy. He was messing up codes because his sleeplessness was affecting his attention to detail. He was moments away from throwing the laptop off the coffee table in a rage, when your voice, flat and uninterested, floated into his ears from the doorway of what used to be your shared bedroom “No chance me asking you to come to bed will do anything tonight?”

“Bed.” he exhaled, eyeing the computer, still on the table. He needed that. He couldn’t afford to smash it on the ground. “Bed...sounds good.”

Of course he noticed the shock in your eyes as he pulled himself up off the sofa, but he didn’t respond to it, dragging his feet into the bedroom. He didn’t bother to change out of his clothes, he’d been wearing the same outfit for at least three days now, he’d given up comfort well beyond hours ago. His face hit the pillow with a thud as he closed his eyes, hoping that it might shut the non-stop swirl of thoughts out. 

As he felt your body crawl into her side of the bed, he reached an arm out, automatically, subconsciously, habitually. Even with just one arm loosely draped around your side, he could tell the fabric of your pajamas. Well, they weren’t even your pajamas. It was one of his shirts. He wondered, momentarily, if you’d taken to wearing his clothes to bed more routinely since he’d been sleeping in the living room. He couldn’t recall what you’d been wearing the last few nights you halfheartedly tried to pull him off the couch. He hadn’t even spared you that much attention.

Quite the opposite from the first time you’d worn one of his shirts to bed. He remembered it so clearly; waking up to you still in bed with him for the first time in the two months you’d been hooking up, himself in just his underwear, you buttoned up in one of his pajama shirts, hanging more like a dress over your frame, though it only barely covered that pert little ass of yours. How fucking sexy it was, to have you lying on his chest, wearing his clothes, in his bedroom. You were completely and utterly his, and he’d adored that feeling. You were still his, he realized, suddenly. You wouldn’t still be here, still in his clothes, of all things, if you weren’t. Letting his eyes slowly blink open, he dragged his hand down to meet yours, fumbling a bit until he found the finger he wanted, gently, slowly, twisting her ring back and forth. For now, at least, until he messed this up like he did everything else, you were still his.

“Quen, babe,” your voice was strained and almost more of a croak. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t verbalize an answer. He wasn’t sure what he would come out if he tried. “I’m just trying to enjoy you while you’re still here”? “Why haven’t you left already”? “You know the old me is dead and never coming back and I’m just a shell of the man you married”? None of those were exactly romantic. Or eloquent. Or thoughts that he was at all ready to verbalize.

Instead, he simply pulled you closer, arms tightening around your middle, squishing your body to his, breathing in the scent of your hair like it was some type of endangered flower that he may never get to sense again. 

It wasn’t until your hushes of “shh, shh, baby, it’s okay.” and your bony fingers attempting to wipe his tears that he even realized he’d been crying. 

“I hate Tony Stark.” he muttered, shifting to dry his tears on the top of your head, doing his best to kiss your forehead despite the current situation. You’d been together nearly 4 years now, and he’d never cried in front of you before.

“I know.” you murmured softly. “But you’re gonna hand his ass to him, aren’t you? That’s what you’ve been pouring your soul into lately, right?”

He sniffed, and then shifted again, to look down at you. You wore no smirk, your face showed no sense of irony. Just pure love and support and belief. “Yeah, of course.”

“You’re going to put all of them to shame.” you assured him, her voice soft, a small yawn getting out, before she added “Then the world will finally have to listen to you. And he’ll realize he should’ve listened to you all along.”

He tried not to smirk at the gasp she elicited as he shifted again, quickly, devouring your lips in kiss far too hungry to be called ‘chaste’ even in the broadest of terms. He loved getting that sort of reaction out of you, of course, but this was too heavy of a moment to ruin with a tease. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you, honey.”

“Are you going to remember that when you’re off rescuing all those fair damsel types?” you were joking, of course, but Quentin liked to think he knew you well enough to be able to read you. And there was sadness to your words in that moment that had a lump forming in his throat.

The funk he’d been in was so deep, had him so assured you were going to leave him. Until now, he hadn’t dared to think that the fear was mutual.

And then the thought came to him so quickly, he was voicing it before he even had a chance to register it “Every hero needs a love interest. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d be interested in some very public roleplay?”

[buckskinblues]

This isn’t writing advice per se (more like formatting), just things that I take for granted knowing that when I come across I realize that not everyone does, in fact, know about when it comes to writing. You don’t have to pay attention to it or follow it. Just take it as me rambling pointlessly if you want (or even me being a big old meanie). I’m focusing on fanfic because if you’re serious about working on OG writing I...really hope you already know these things and I mention things specific to using tags and all that (I also focus on Ao3 rather than any other site since it’s the best and also the only site I use for posting anything).

First off, if you don’t use paragraph breaks. Fuck you.

Stop using “~” at the end of sentences to denote someone saying something in a “singsong” way or whatever. Stop using it in general. It looks bad and it breaks immersion because it’s not any sort of capitalization or formatting that is usually used so it can be jarring and also just looks stupid as fuck. The dialogue itself, the dialogue tags, and the context are all you need to carry the mood and convey feeling. Anything else is you trying way too hard. (The “~” is a tilde and is used in some other languages over letters to change the pronunciation and it’s also used in math/engineering to mean something about numbers...so basically if you’re writing in English you shouldn’t be using it because there is shit all reason to do that).

Either capitalize correctly for titles or don’t capitalize at all. Stylistic choices only work if you’re consistent about it, otherwise it looks like you don’t know what you’re doing rather than making a deliberate choice. And yes, even something as small and simple as the title can come across this way. It’s the first thing people see when they come across the story so it’s important it doesn’t look dumb as hell just to capitalize the first word and none of the others. It looks like you typed it out on your phone and auto correct got the first word but not the others. This is only for titles though, if you forego using capitalization in the body of your work just know you’ve committed a grave sin against humanity--you’re damned if you’ve done this for a chaptered work and not just a “stylistic” choice in a drabble.

Stop using...those letters that are from different alphabets and symbols you pasted from unicode or wherever else. It’s not aesthetic. Some phones and computers may not read them and they’ll just be square blocks. They’re hard to read for some people. They represent completely different sounds in the alphabets/languages they’re supposed to be used in. Just...stop doing it.

Don’t mix two different characters’ dialogue in the same paragraph. Each person gets their own paragraph. This is how people know who is talking when there are sometimes just one dialogue after the other without anything else to tell who is who, besides the fact it alternates. Paragraph breaks.

Epithets. Stop using them. Pronouns exist for a reason and context works wonders. “The blond haired agent, the doctor with glasses, the grumpy hitman...” it gets old when you use such things to refer to a character more than their names, especially when you’re using epithets in dialogue tags. And it’s especially unnecessary when they’re the only character in a scene or the only other character being referred to by another who’s speaking. (Also when you use the same epithet multiple times, all the time...I wanna die). Very low level children’s books use epithets often because children are just learning about things and have the attention span of a goldfish. But I hope you have faith your audience is above a kindergarten reading level. The only time I ever use epithets is when a character’s name isn’t revealed yet to the main POV and there really isn’t any other way to get around referring to them until it is. Though you can skip doing that if they’re literally the only other person the main POV could possibly be interacting with. And you don’t want to do this for very long because it wears out its welcome fast. It’s okay to use character’s names to refer to them...that’s why they have names.

Do not do things like “!!!!!!” or “?!?!1!!” Just one exclamation will do. You can use “?!”/”!?” but don’t like...repeat it a bunch of times. Like...I get it, they’re surprised.

Is this a chapter story or a script? Are you writing a play? If you use: Character A: Blah blah blah. Character B: Wah Wah Wah! Consider...not doing that. I mean, DO do that if you’re actually writing a script...but you have no excuse for not knowing how dialogue is actually supposed to be formatted in stories because...I mean...you have read right? It’s the same in every book and story. The bar is low here. It’s not obscure knowledge. Children’s trade books use: “Blah,” Character A says. You have no excuse for not doing the same.

Walls of tags. Ugh. Walls. Of. Tags. Again, I gotta say. Fuck you. Tags are for categorization but you still want to keep them as simple and clean as possible. I’ve legit had to scroll past a wall of tags that took up so much damn space they were all that was on the screen. Do. Not. Do. This. Everyone hates you for it.

Speaking of tags: / is for romantic and/or sexual relationships and & is for platonic friendship. Do not mix up the two. Do not use both. If it’s a slow burn from friends to lovers you still only use /. If there’s no romance at all use &. Do not put “platonic but can be read as--” no. It’s up to you, the writer, whether it’s platonic or romantic so use the tags correctly.

Request booklets uwu. I hate those. I hate them because it’s a shitload of different fandoms, a wall of tags, and (usually) little to no actual content. You’ll get one-shot collections in the fandom tag when there isn’t actually any content for that actual fandom in it. It’s Ao3, it’s an archive. If you want to take requests make a Tumblr blog. In general I’m of the belief that one-shots should be...one-shots. On their own. There are lots of reasons for this. You can add a summary for what the one-shot is about instead of just giving the audience a title and shit all else. You can put it in the proper fandom tag without pissing off people who come across the “collection” and there be nothing for their fandom actually. The only time it makes sense is if the one-shots are all happening in the same universe and to the same people and they stand alone because they’re not chronological but they’re still in the same timeline for the same people. A series is fine. But it’s essentially like someone crosstagging here on Tumblr and using as many tags as possible to get attention.

If you have a chaptered story that follows a specific plot...do not add one-shots or AUs of that story to the that story. Perhaps that may not make sense but there is nothing more infuriating than thinking the story is updated when it’s just something tacked on, a one-shot or something, that interrupts the story and pisses you off because you don’t care you want to find out what happens next. If it all happens in the same universe, put it in a series. But don’t clog up the actual story with diversions. This has happened and while I really liked the writer’s stories I was fucking pissed as all hell. When I saw an update I thought the cliffhanger would be resolved, but no, it was a one-shot...

Use an author’s note for introductions or extra information NOT the body of the work. Please and thank you. Similarly you can add a tag or edit the summary to say the story is on hiatus or will be left unfinished until further notice.

Gender-neutral smut...it doesn’t work.

It’s okay to write OOC. Just like...warn people if you KNOW it’s really OOC.

It’s okay to character bash, honestly. Just warn people you’ll be doing it and that you know it’s petty but you hate writing about them in a positive way. For the life of me writing Sakura (from Naruto) was always a pain in the ass for me, so I understand. Just be self-aware about it and warn people so that they can’t come crying about it. (The power of “well, I did warn you...” is strong).

The relationship tags are only for the MAIN relationship(s). Background ships can be put in additional tags or vaguely mentioned in the author’s note. But please don’t make people think a ship will be more prominent in a story than what it actually is.

Stop using quotes for summaries when they don’t actually tell the readers anything. Summaries are for letting people know the basics of what they’ll be reading about so they know if it interests them. A vague quote from some famous person says absolutely nothing. Quotes can be used to great effect at the beginning of chapters or the end to drive home a theme or add a nice touch but they aren’t summaries on their own.

Use whatever tropes/cliches you want. Seriously. Especially if it’s fanfic. Just do what you want as far as actual content. If you enjoy it that’s all that matters.

So essentially write about whatever you want but remember the formatting is important. Basic capitalization and grammar that isn’t immediately terrible is important. Categorizing properly is important. These are things that really aren’t all that hard, seriously. Once you learn about doing them you just...do them.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Rising Sun (part 2)

Prince!Kirishima x princess!reader

Warnings: swearing I think?

A/N: I finally got some ideas of where I want this to go! I edited the first part to have Mina be your old friend back home because I’d like to add more BNHA characters to this. Also Kirishima is gonna come off ooc but I gotta let you know that beneath his facade he’s still our Grade A Best Boy. Anyways here’s part 2!

Part 1

You awaken to the clanking of glass against the side table nearest to the bed. You stretch your body and enjoy the feeling of the freshly clean sheets against your skin. You’re still in the gown you had out on the night before and you hoped that meant that nothing troublesome happened. You open your eyes and watch a beautiful woman with bright red hair pouring water into a crystal glass. You’re thankful it’s not Anaya but you don’t expect this girl to be any less nasty.

“Water, miss?” She offers you the glass and you take it, realizing you had a pulsing headache. You really went heavy with your marital wine drinking.

She sits with you on the bed, keeping her back straight, and watches you finish your glass. She takes it back and says, “the prince told me to speak softly to you since you had a rough night but I do want to inform you that breakfast is being served now. Food from your kingdom to make you feel more at home. I must admit I did sneak a few bites of the potato hash and it really is quite delightful,” she sends you a soft smile. Maybe not everyone from this kingdom was horrible. “If you want I can help you find the dining hall after dressing you, if you don’t mind.”

You gaze down to the red silken gown you wore to bed. For something that was supposed to be worn to please its viewer it was incredibly comfortable. You smile at the thought of what the people in the temple might think if you went down dressed as you were. Maybe they’d send you home.

This is your home now, you have to tell yourself. You nod and allow the woman to escort you out of bed. Back at your old home, Mina, your chambermaid and friend, would swing pillows at your face and yell at you for sleeping the day away. You would laugh and hit her back. You were going to miss her terribly.

The woman who you learned her name as, Freya, helps slips yet another form fitting gown on. It’s white and shows off your bare shoulders while the sleeves have slits, while the rest of the gown flows freely down to your feet. Draconians’ attire consists usually of skin revealing uniforms since the kingdom was the warmest of them all and you were grateful to be put in something a little more tasteful. Maybe tasteful wasn’t the right word seeing as you were from a completely different world and you haven’t quite felt at home with their customs but you were content with with being comfortable.

Prince Eijirou stands before you are seated to his right. He offers you a kind smile and you bow respectfully at him. The long dining hall table is adorned with the finest morning foods your own kingdom had to offer. It was a kind gesture but nothing you should get used to. The room is lit up only by a few torches but the giant windows that showed off the rolling hills and tropical greenery brings more than enough light in.

When you sit Eijirou places a hand on your arm. His touch is warm and inviting and remember the way he made you feel last night before you… before…

You turn to him and he’s watching you. “Prince Eijirou,” he frowns slightly at your formality, “About last night…?”

“I put you to be bed,” he whispers back to you. He leans in close so the servers around you couldn’t eavesdrop, “no harm will come to you as long as you are in my temple. Especially not from me.”

You are flooded with relief. You didn’t feel like anything happened but you had to make sure. The man before you was your husband but you didn’t know anything about him, besides what you heard from a certain blue haired somebody who just glided into the room.

“Speaking of which,” he stands and everyone around him besides Anaya freezes. “Anaya,” he addresses her and she salutes him by putting her fist to your chest.

Hisses and growls escape her mouth and you can only assume she’s greeting him in Draconic.

“I’d like to have a word with you and I would hope to have it in the tongue that all parties can understand.”

Back home, ‘having a word’ meant taking someone aside and speaking to them one on one. You furrow your brow and watch Anaya send you a glare before turning her attention back to the prince.

“It seems that last night you did not fulfil your duties in tending to my bride.”

Anaya crosses her arms across her chest and sneers, “she told me she could handle it on her own.”

“And was that before or after you threatened her?”

Anaya raises her eyebrows. “I did no ssuch thing! I wass only giving her fair advice!” She shoots another glare your way.

“Was the advice warranted?” He waits for her to respond and it seems like she doesn’t understand the question. Eijirou begins to speak to her in draconic, his tone only seeming more dangerous through the rolling of his tongue and his growls. She hisses back and throws gestures into the air. She flinches only when he stomps his foot the ground. The table shakes.

“I see then… since you have such a narrow and tainted mindset I can only see you as being a threat to this kingdom and I have it in my right mind to banish you,” a hush falls across the dining hall. You watch Anaya’s face contort from fury to terror. The king himself walks into the room and crosses his arms, observing his son. Much like the prince, he displays his bare muscular torso with only an opened vest over his frame. He looks very much like Eijirou but with long wavy black hair that falls beneath his shoulders and many more scars, no doubt from fighting in many battles. He nods for the prince to continue.

“But I am putting your fate into my bride’s hands.”

Your eyes widen. You’re doing what?

Eijirou turns to you, “it’s your decision, Princess Y/N. We can have her banished for the crimes committed against you or we can let her stay.”

Beg pardon, your majesty? You don’t realize your mouth fell open until Anaya scoffs. Eijirou shoots her a look and she dismisses the ugly look on her face. You knew that one day you were going to have to make big decisions like these, at least for your kingdom. Hell, this didn’t seem all that big compared to the declarations of war your father signed your kingdom into. You didn’t think that Anaya had gone as far as committing any crimes against you, though you didn’t like her the second she opened her mouth.

You remember telling your father that when you were going to be queen you, were going to be a kind and forgiving one. He said that’s not what your kingdom needed. He ruled with an iron fist and you were to follow in his footsteps. That was of course, before losing so many good people, even your friends, in battle.

You bow your head, “let her stay.”

Anaya brings a shaking hand to her mouth and she cries out. You think she’s upset but she then she salutes you.

Eijirou doesn’t change his tone as he speaks to her. “Be grateful that you’re future queen is far more forgiving than I am. Let this be a warning: if you ever come near my princess again with malicious intent, I will not hesitate to have you take your leave by tying you to a barrel and having you float your way to exile.”

You shudder at his threat that felt more like a promise. Maybe Eijirou was a brute.

Anaya excuses herself and you watch the king leave. Eijirou sits back down. The servants around you avoid talking and Eijirou starts tapping on the table. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” he says. You look to him and he’s staring at his full plate. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted her banished but I’m glad you said not to.”

You don’t know what to say. You begin turning your glass full of what you think is pineapple juice, a fruit only found in this kingdom. “I believe empathy can go a long way. Carrying an open heart can only open the hearts of those who surround you,” that was something your mother used to say to you. You pick up your glass and take a sip. Definitely pineapple juice. You are thankful for such a delicacy.

“That’s why you’re going to be an incredible queen,” he turns to you, “but if Anaya ever bothers you again just call her a nurh-rhyvos-maurg.” That was a mouthful.

“What does that mean?” You take another sip of your juice.

“Ugly cow breed.”

You spit the pineapple juice back into the cup and cover your mouth. Eijirou’s crimson eyes shine at you, happy to see you laugh. “So she has a sense of humor!”

He takes a napkin and dabs at your face. That was too intimate for your liking. You take it from him and smile, “of course I do. I just didn’t expect you to have one.”

He gives you a funny look and smiles to himself. “There’s a lot that we don’t know about each other yet. I know a lot of Draconians seem barbaric at first and as a future king I have to play such a merciless role but… well, I’ve met actual barbarians. They’re not half bad. And as a king I have to be assertive so my people will take me seriously. I’ve accepted the role but there’s more to me than my status.”

You’ve said that to your father plenty of times in one form or another. It was almost reassuring, knowing that you and your husband had at least one thing in common.

“nurh-rhyvos-maurg,” you practice saying it. Draconic is mostly rolling your R’s and and elongating the S’s but when it comes to words like ‘maurg’ you had to sort of growl.

“Trust me, it’s a big insult for Draconians. Nurh-rhyvos-mmAURg,” he enunciates the last word and his sharp teeth are flashed at you. It’s kinda cute the way he growled the word out.

“And what do I call you?”

“Mrrandii, which means ‘husband.’”

“And what do you call me?”

“Memamosal, for ‘wife’ and vorel for ‘beautiful,’” he grins as your cheeks are dusted with pink, “but I prefer ithquant because you could only be described as divine.”

You didn’t think it was possible but your face turned an even deeper shade of red. He takes the opportunity to lean in close to your ear and whispers, “sia vorel vur ithquant memamosal.” You nearly melt at the way his low voice rumbled in your ears. You turn to see him staring at your lips. “My beautiful and divine wife…”

You find yourself leaning closer to him. His pupils dilate, only making his crimson eyes an even more vibrant ruby. His lashes are dark and long and nearly ran you as he blinks. Your lips are a hair away from his before the two of you are interrupted by the Draconic growling coming from behind you.

Eijirou sighs and turns towards the man who addressed him. They have a conversation you can’t understand while you pick at your plate, wondering what the hell you were about to do. You were going to kiss your damn husband which is fine. You’re fine. Everything is fINE.

Eijirou clears his throat and takes your hand. “There are some customary festivities going on in town today. It’s actually pretty common and we’re not expected to go,” he bites his lip and you fixate on his teeth. Why did you think they were so cute all of a sudden? “Normally I would encourage anyone to go to these things but they can get pretty loud and well, last night…”

Ah. You are very hungover. You furrow your brows, “how loud?”

He brings his hand to his neck and gives you a sheepish grin, “let’s just say our wedding was pretty hushed compared to this.”

“Oh…” you stare down at your half eaten food. Is there a polite way to refuse?

“We don’t have to go! I’d just like you to know what’s going on in our kingdom. We can always go to the next festival, there’s plenty!”

“Well, you should go!” You don’t want to keep him from having fun. Besides that, you really wanted to have some time to yourself to think.

“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself. What kind of man would I be if I left my lady here waiting and bored out of her wits?”

“I won’t be bored. I’ll… go exploring! What kind of queen would I be if I didn’t know my own castle?”

You can tell he is being resistant but you really need to be alone. You place your hand over his and he stares at it. This was the first time you had instigated a touch. You bat your lashes at him, only half guilty for using your charm to get what you want. “Please?”

“Maybe I’ll have someone escort you around?”

You shake your head. “That won’t be necessary. Sometimes being alone and getting lost is the best way to find yourself familiar with oneself and their surroundings. I’ll do fine.”

He frowns at the word ‘alone.’ He leans back in his chair and his brows narrow in concentration. His eyes light up and he grins, “Yeah, okay. That’ll be good for you.”

You have half a mind to ask him what he means but you don’t. You don’t want him to change his mind so instead you kiss him on the cheek and watch his face flush.

You don’t see him change for the festival. You’re only informed of when he has left and you begin your investigative stroll.

From the outside, the temple stands high and proud but seems rather small compared to the inside. Your castle at home was large enough to house the royal family, your servants, and five other noble families. Though the temple is larger than the viewer’s eyes it only houses the royal family and a few of their servants but the town isn’t a long journey away. The temple is smaller because it wasn’t meant to be housed at all when it was created. It was to be a house of worship for Draconians. They have an ancient following that is derived from the first appearance of dragons or so you are to believe. You thought that was very interesting since your kingdom was basically built through power with a big help from magic. That’s why the high priestess is hailed almost like royalty.

Outside, your feet are greeted with warm sand that surrounds the temple. It’s not hot enough to burn you and it’s really quite inviting. Draconians don’t wear shoes and you weren’t offered any when getting dressed which was fine but you were thankful for the lush grass you found after strolling outwards, not wanting you feet to get too dusty. As you walk you taken in the air that is rich with a sweet aroma of the tropical fruit growing nearby and the slight hint of a burning wood that follows you whoever you go. It was an odd mix but fitting for such an odd kingdom.

You balance your feet and walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other, and think about your place in this kingdom. You were going to be their queen and Eijirou, your king. You grew up knowing that you were going to be a queen somewhere but it was finally happening all too fast and in the place far too foreign. But you did it for a just reason. You did it for peace. And you are going to be a good queen but how can you be so sure of that if you can’t have your own husband touching you without panicking? You blamed that on Anaya but you’re not sure if things would be different if she hadn’t threatened you.

You’re lost in your head when the ground starts to shake. It happened so quickly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not. It shakes again and you lose your balancing game. Your eyes shoot up and your gasp.

About fifty meters away, clear as the sky, a Herculean creature, mighty and proud with gorgeous sanguine scales that shine as the warm sun hits them, stares at you. Your first encounter with a dragon.

Part 3

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly s-of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @rubycubix @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #5

Welcome back again folks! This week in our fifth interview @vermofftiss chats to @mizjoely about her love of lists, her fantasy season five finale, and reveals the truth about who really writes her stories...

Hi, @mizjoely here, chatting with @vermofftiss about my sherlolly writing and fandom experiences, and answering some questions submitted by a few other folks. I’ve been involved in fandom in one way or another since the early 1980s, which is also when I started writing fanfiction - for classic Doctor Who and Star Trek in its various incarnations.

@vermofftiss here, putting forward the aforementioned questions. I’ll also be trying to weasel some advice out of @mizjoely that I can use for my own writing, which has been a casual ongoing thing since I published my first sherlolly fic in 2014.

Vermofftiss: I think our first encounter was in the Sherlollychat in the fall of 2014, around the time I got onto AO3. Which means series 3 was five years ago. How does it feel knowing that series 4 was already two years ago? What’s changed in the time since it aired?

Mizjoely: Oh, I miss the sherlollychat, or at least I did until Channy came up with the discord version! It’s hard to fathom that so much time has passed since I joined the fandom! (I became active on tumblr in November 2013 after discovering Sherlolly earlier that same year, btw.) Series 3 was five years ago. Series 4 was two years ago. Crazy!

As for what’s changed since then, I’d have to say one positive thing is that the fandom wank has calmed way the hell down since S4…. Another change that I’ve seen is probably common to all fandoms over time - new writers and content creators have joined the fandom while (sadly) many others have moved on to other fandoms. Of course, that’s to be expected when your show is essentially over, but it’s still kind of sad to lose folks completely to other fandoms.

V: Which series was your favourite to play with as a writer? When did you really get into writing Sherlolly?

M: I would have to say Series 4 has definitely been a great series to write for - so much angst! The I love you! Mary Watson’s very sad death, Rosie Watson becoming a character, Mrs. Hudson showing us what a badass she is, and of course Eurus Holmes entering the picture. We might not have gotten as much Molly Hooper as we wanted, but the scenes we did get with her were tremendous and gave so much inspiration to me and many other writers.

I really got into Sherlolly as a ship after seeing TRF, as I’m sure is true with many folks - especially the “what do you need” scene. And it was so much fun to dive into the possibilities of life after Sherlock’s ‘death’ between Series 2 and 3, I consider that a real golden age of Sherlolly writing. My first published Sherlock/Sherlolly fic was “Conversations With A Dead Detective”, set Post Reichenbach, which according to fanfiction.net I published on 04/11/13 (so I’m nearly at my five year Sherlolly- versary, woo hoo!).

A quick look at my spreadsheet (don’t judge me, I love my lists) shows that I wrote or at least started 37 fics that year (one of which I’m still working on, yikes! - The World As We Know It, a vamp!lock fic). I’m currently sitting at almost 500 fics for Sherlolly, which still amazes me, that I could be that inspired by a pair of fictional characters! (For comparison, my second most prolific fandom is Doctor Who, for whom I wrote a total of 25 stories over a period of 20 years. And of those 25, only about a dozen were for my main ship, Five/Tegan).

V: A couple of questions from @ohaine - 

1) Based on the sheer volume of your work, I have this theory that you’re actually some sort of artistic collective rather than just one person, please tell me I’m right!

M: You have discovered my secret: I'm actually four raccoons in a trenchcoat! Seriously though, until I was bitten by the Sherlolly bug, my output was much, much lower, even though I've been writing fanfics since the early 1980s. For example, I love the Zutara ship for Avatar: Last Airbender, but I only wrote three fics for that. I wrote about 25 fics for Doctor Who, and about the same amount for the various Star Treks (not including Khanolly). Nothing set my writing muse afire like Sherlolly, and I doubt anything ever will again.

and, 2) You write a lot of AUs, and I’m wondering what inspires them?

M: Considering that I started off as a strictly Canon Universe/Canon Compliant writer in all of my other fandoms, it still seems funny to me how much I enjoy writing and reading AUs now. I started reading them after finally running out of canon compliant fics to read and discovering how much fun it was to transplant the characters into a different universe. And that, of course, made me think about what sort of AUs I could fit Molly and Sherlock into.

In fact, the very first BBC Sherlock story I started to write (never finished or posted) was an AU because I was nervous about trying to write Sherlock and figured no one would complain too much about him being OOC if it was a fantasy setting. (I ended up taking the plunge on a canon universe post Reichenbach fic and posted that and a lot of other canon universe fics before returning to AUs.)

Wait, that doesn't answer the question! What inspires them? The same things that inspire all my writing: wanting to read a specific kind of fic and not being able to find it; fics that other authors have written that make me itch to put my own spin on the idea; dreams; books I've read or movies or TV shows I've watched...inspiration is everywhere when you really, really, really love a ship. (Gawd that's cheesy but it's true - no love, no writing fanfic, period end of paragraph.)

V: This past spring I finally got the nerve to start working on my first proper AU (not CC, CU, or UA) after sitting on the idea for about 3 years. Have you ever had to wait to be “ready” to start working on a concept? How much do you need to know about a project to get going on it?

M: I have absolutely had to wait to be ready to start working on a concept. My very first attempt at a Sherlolly fic (never finished or published) was going to be an AU because I was so intimidated by the idea of writing Sherlock Holmes in the canon universe set up by Moffat & Gatiss. I was terrified I wouldn’t get his voice right, that he would be too OOC for folks, that I wouldn’t be able to make him clever enough or that I’d mess things up a dozen different ways. So I started writing the AU instead, and in doing so (over a course of several months), I finally realized that no, I wanted to start off in the canon universe. Just trying to write him at all, in any setting, made me a little less intimidated by him. But I might never have written anything if I hadn’t started that abandoned AU. (And I look forward to seeing your AU when you’re ready to post it!)

V: Does reader feedback ever impact the plots of your stories or the building of your AUs?

M: It absolutely can, especially when someone leaves a comment that makes me think about my story in a different light. I won’t go so far as to say comments have caused me to redo anything on a larger scale (such as change the ending) but certainly I’ve thrown things into the fic or expanded on ideas expressed in a comment to make the story that much richer.

That’s one of the best things about being active in fandom - the interactions between readers and writers. Of course, the reverse can also be true - I remember needing a LOT of fan-friend coddling when some folks were unhappy with the ending of my story ‘Abandoned’ (i.e., my Molly let my Sherlock get off too easily). But you have to have thick skin to be a creator, and remember that not everyone likes the same things. And you also have to be able to say yes, I could have done this better, or if I had to do it over I’d do it differently. It’s all part of the creative process.

V: Are there any scenes or aspects that were cut from a story that you regretted leaving out at the end?

M: Not really. Most things that I cut have been vetted by my betas (shout-out to ALL betas for being willing to help you make your story better!) and jettisoning those things has always made my stories better. (Plus I keep a folder of scraps that got cut and periodically review those scraps to see if I might be able to salvage them.)

V: On top of being one of the better-known Sherlolly writers in the tag, you’re also the single person behind the Sherlollbrary. As much as I love to organize my life and everything else I can get my hands on, that’s not something I think I’d ever actually want to do. So what made you decide to start cataloguing Sherlolly fics?

M: My love of lists. Seriously, that’s it. I love making lists of things - like, how many stories did I write in 2013 for Sherlolly (37, as you now know!), how many one-shots have I written vs. multi-chapters, how many were prompts...and then I started seeing people doing lists of various tropes. The one that made me decided to start my Sherlollilists side blog was one put together for Sherlolly omegaverse stories. As more and more lists were created, edited, and added (I’m currently at 140 official lists, with more than a dozen unofficial lists), I decided it would nice to organize them all (not realizing quite what I was getting into!) as one spreadsheet, with other tropes and tags and keywords for folks to help narrow down their searches. It always give me a little thrill when I open the library and see folks are browsing, so I like to think it’s a useful tool (although I am looking forward to finishing it someday!)

@writingwife-83 asked: You work tirelessly to organize all the multitude of writing this ship produces, but how do you feel that affects you as a writer? Does it make you less interested in writing your own fics? Or does it tend to help get the wheels turning and inspire you?

M: I have to admit, sometimes curating the lists can completely put me off writing, simply due to feeling oversaturated. This is especially true when I am reading or skimming over fics that are, shall we say, not the best of the bunch. Or the times when I'm just pushing myself even if I'm not really enthusiastic about doing it. Those times, I've learned to just step back, which is why sometimes the lists don't get updated very quickly.

On the other hand, rereading a favorite or a forgotten gem can really get my creative juices flowing. At times like that, I fall back in love with the ship and the fandom all over again.

V: When you’re stuck with writer’s block or just a lack of motivation, does it help you more to reread an old fave or to go back through some of your own works? Have you noticed your style has changed much?

M: It does help, absolutely. It reminds me why I love this ship so much, and helps me reconnect with others in the fandom. People think of reading as passive and writing as solitary, but to me it’s an interactive process. Reading great fics, new can old, helps feed your creativity. And nowadays the internet helps so much as well - there are awesome resources and fandom spaces to talk to other folks about their works and your own, reminding you that you’re not creating in a vacuum. (And I REALLY love the cheerleading section of the Sherlolly Discord site. That can help unstick my creativity like nobody’s business!)

As for my style changing - yeah, it definitely has. I feel like my writing has become more streamlined and less clunky since I first started. I still do a lot of semicolon abuse but at this point I’ve decided that’s just my style and will likely never change.

Thanks for the excellent questions and for letting me ramble on!

V: I’m sure we can do a lot more rambling if left on the trail. How about one last one: In the currently hypothetical series 5, how would you continue the story from where it left off?

M: Oooh, good one! If I was in charge we would see that Sherlock and Molly are continuing their relationship, culminating with a wedding at the end of the third episode. But since I’m not in charge, I’m thinking that Mofftiss would give us some subtle hints, like John casually mentioning to Sherlock that he and Rosie can’t join ‘them’ for dinner that night for whatever reason. And maybe some small changes to 221B to show hints that someone else spends time there other than Sherlock and the Watsons - a cherry patterned pillow, perhaps? A Bart’s ID card with a woman’s picture to show that no, it isn’t one Sherlock nicked to get access to a place he otherwise couldn’t get to? A woman’s coat hanging next to Sherlock’s? Something like that. And some private smiles between Sherlock and Molly, little things like that. Enough to give us hope but not enough to give us proof! They do like to tease that way!

Non-shipwise, I think Eurus would make a return because come on, how do you leave a character like that catatonic? I also think they would return to ACD canon to revise a few more cases for the modern age, and maybe (maybe!) have John start dating again (especially if they’re so married to canon that they killed Mary off - since John seems to have been married at least twice, they would probably explore that option).

I know, that last part is a bit vague but honestly? I hope they surprise the hell out of us in a good way if we ever get that fifth series!

Next Week, Friday March 22nd, @ashockinglackofsatin talks to @sunken-standard

[dontcallmecarrie]

Fic Idea: The Fix-it Version [I Probably Won't Be Writing Because I Can't Do Romance To Save My Life]

Warnings: mental health issues, dubious morality, probably OOC in some places, extreme/severe Wanda bashing [which culminates in character death; if that’s not your cup of tea, sorry, maybe next time?], a JARVIS that’s uncomfortably close to Skynet, and a mindtrip of epic proportions [that can probably be classified as cruel and unusual torture, Inception-style]. Semi-canon compliant, through a certain point of view, though with shameless timeline fudging.

...On the plus side, there’s also Science Bros [kinda], and Team As Family feels? 

[The attempt at romance in here could fit with probably any pairing, I just picked this one because I used to ship it a lot harder in the past.]

Also, heads up for a very, very long post. [Sorry about that.]

Edited only to put in a cut, because I’m not kidding as to how long this is.

Tony Stark was a genius.

It was a fact of which there was no doubt, he had the test results from age three to prove it, even his greatest critics were forced acknowledge his intellect. Not to mention his impressive track record involving new patents and elements, or that one of the media's names for him was "the Da Vinci of our day"-- he was a genius, full stop.

That the world somehow forgot was another matter.

Sure, he was surrounded by superpowered people—gods and spies and doctors with breathtaking anger issues— but it still got old, the way everyone seemed to forget his multiple doctorates with each explosion. His laundry list of awards, hell, the new element he’d created, seemed to get overshadowed by the people he ran with. [To be fair, it'd be kind of hard to see past the Crown Prince of Asgard, but still.]

Point is, his brain's wired differently. It may sound arrogant, but it was true. Tony Stark had a gift that let him interact with the world on a level far beyond most mortals' ken, was able to take and assimilate data and work miracles.

Reason this all comes up is because a) that meant mental health issues were a special sort of hell, and, b) Wanda really didn't know what the fuck she was doing when she tried to screw with his mind.

What I’m getting to is this:

Tony never really snapped out of the initial mind-whammy Wanda hit him with, back in Sokovia.

It wasn't something she'd expected; she'd practiced with plenty of people, and yet the one guy she'd sworn revenge against for years gave a single panicked gasp, before slumping over and promptly going comatose.

Here's the thing: Wanda hadn't accounted for how his mind would accept the data presented. Like all other things, Tony's gift for rapidly processing and assimilating other input took this newest development, and proceeded to take it and run with it.

Tony's trapped in his head, stuck with only his inner demons and Wanda's malice. He doesn't notice; between his PTSD, and the way his greatest strengths are now being used against him, Tony only knows he's being confronted with his worst nightmares being turned reality, and the worst part is? It's a prison of his own making.

Every single subconscious fear is being dragged to the forefront, from betrayal to his own inadequacy at protecting those he loves. He's being torn down again and again by strangers wearing familiar faces, and Tony knows something's off but he can't quite pinpoint what and… and it's getting to the point where part of him's so bone-tired he sometimes can't help but wonder: would death would really be that much harder? Because as time goes by, he's getting so, so worn and he's so alone, that he's nearing his breaking point. [Just like Wanda had wanted him, in that moment when she'd thoughtlessly toyed with the very fragile and very powerful thing that was Tony's mind.]

There's just one problem: Wanda did her job too well.

See, JARVIS was the first to notice something was so, fundamentally wrong: Sir's readings had flickered erratically, but then after the female Enhanced had taken her leave, he had remained unresponsive to his increasingly desperate attempts to get his attention. Even as he notified the Avengers to this newest development, however, he set to scouring the world for the Dead Person Walking who'd dared to harm Sir. [He'd eviscerate them, would make them bleed and burn the world with a smile if it meant Sir's safety, Sir, please, wake up—]

The Avengers aren't ones to take this lying down, either.

Clint's especially vicious, at first; he's the first one to reach Tony, sees the fading traces of red in his eyes, remembers when his world had become awash with blue, and his hands don’t shake when he takes a shot at the fleeing duo [even though he so, desperately wants to]. The cry of pain he hears is vaguely cathartic, but vanishes the moment he hears Tony's first whimper and something is Not Right, this is beyond his pay grade, he needs backup stat!

Natasha's expression is blank, and that was everyone's first tip as to how furious she was. She hasn't let go of her phone, between keeping her friends updated [Pepper had cried when she'd heard Tony wouldn't wake], and scouring her contacts list for anyone who might have a shred of a clue as to how to help. She refused to give up on her friends, and Tony'd shared his coffee with her more than once at three in the morning, and they'd commiserated about tough choices and bloody pasts and second chances one too many times for her to consider him anything but.

Bruce is taking readings. He hasn't stopped, because the alternative is looking at the too-still and far-too-silent figure on the bed rather than the data, and if he does that… they'd have to deal with the Other Guy, who has some Strong Opinions as to his favorite person's current state— no, make that their favorite person: Bruce is very reserved, can't afford to be anything else, but somehow, despite everything, Tony'd managed to wriggle past his defenses with his constant chatter and Star Trek references and snacks and if he thought about it too much he'd have another Code Green, nope, focus on those brainwave patterns and see what he could do—

Thor had rushed to Asgard with the Scepter in tow, intent on returning with assistance, because Midgard was still so young in so many ways but he knew what branch of magic Lord Anthony had been a victim of, had heard Loki mention it offhandedly once or twice in their youth when showing off the power of enchantments, and there had to be a healer or magician willing to help—

Steve, meanwhile, has been taking it the worst: he'd been bantering with the team not five minutes before, and now he's seeing Clint, sharp and brittle in a way that was dangerously similar to the New York fiasco, and snarling about magic and oh god that was Tony.

Steve's heart had stuttered when he saw his body, and Natasha's bumping shoulders with Clint in an effort to help calm him down and Bruce looks like he's about as controlled as ever, but Steve's just. Drowning.

Because he's lost another friend, now; he'd just started to heal from Bucky's death, when the HYDRA reveal happened, and Tony'd been there for him afterwards, had been a good friend and helped him and Sam in their search. Tony'd been one of the last reminders of his past, had been a walking memorial of the generosity of an old friend [for all that Tony had hated to talk about his father, he was the spitting image of the man Steve had known, in some ways], and now? He's just…lost.

Steve had been talking to Natasha and JARVIS as to how to break it to Tony gently about his growing suspicions about HYDRA's involvement in Howard's death.

 [maybe it wasn't the Winter Soldier who did it, in this reality; maybe it was someone at the party who'd kept smiling and upping the alcohol content in Howard's drinks, and had sabotaged the brake fluid in his car instead. Thing is, Tony's head is a scary place, and with his growing paranoia and Wanda's influence, he can't help but jump to the worst-case scenario]

And ditto as to his possible crush that Natasha may or may not have been teasing him about for months. The crush that had merited multiple pitying looks from the team, because apparently he'd been very unsubtle in his attempts at hiding it, even if Tony had never noticed because the man was surprisingly obtuse in anything that vaguely smacked of emotions. Yeah, that crush. The one he'd put on the backburner, and was now bitterly regretting it.

So, yes, Steve wasn't doing well.

Time passes, and Thor comes and goes in his forays to seek out help. In doing so, however, the Avengers are only freaking out more and more, because with every hour that passes, Tony's condition only gets worse. His body's visibly getting more stressed, Bruce's tests have him hitting the tea more than ever before in an attempt to get a grip, and Steve hates seeing Tony like this but can't bear to leave [or let go of his hand].

JARVIS was especially distressed when, a few hours into his not-coma, Sir started to cry and call for him, and he'd never felt more helpless than when his sobs tapered off and mutters of a 'Vision' started. In his frustration, he dedicates more firepower towards finding the Dead Person Walking, and redoubles his search for anyone capable of doing anything.

It takes JARVIS less than three days, for him to find Wanda. It takes even less time, to capture her. Natasha is more than happy to aid him in interrogating her, and if the realization that she didn't know what she had done resulted in yet another corpse in a now-abandoned HYDRA bunker? Well...the instigator's death had no effect on Sir's condition meant it was no loss, at any rate. [That she'd shown absolutely no regret about having hurt Sir on such a fundamental level was only part of why JARVIS hadn't been particularly concerned about it all.]

More time passes, and the Avengers are growing increasingly desperate. Bruce had been forced to abscond to the Hulk-proof room after his latest set of readings, because Tony'd been showing all the warning signs for an impending heart attack despite their best efforts to help, and Steve's now going for a new streak in 'number of punching bags broken in an hour'.

Clint and Natasha are only marginally better off; having the knowledge that the witch was dead did something for Clint's peace of mind, but seeing Tony suffer was still grating on his nerves, and their spars grow increasingly vicious as time goes on. [If Steve wasn't even worse off, he'd have been staring in shock; as it was, he could only offer a tired smile when he saw them from his spot in the gym.]

Then, Thor returns with a name: Kamar-Taj.

Apparently, the Earth had magic as well, though it'd been hidden remarkably well. JARVIS takes this newest development, and runs with it as far as possible. The Quinjet was in India within the hour, with Bruce and Natasha calmly making their way to where JARVIS had identified a possible location. Clint's busily guarding Tony and keeping an eye on Steve, who'd wanted to go but was self-aware enough to know he wasn't the best guy for the job at the moment, and Thor was too conspicuous for it too.

Bruce knew enough Hindi to get by without too many weird looks, and the look in Natasha's eyes is enough to keep any potential muggers at bay. They find it quickly, and the wary questions they're asked means they're ushered to a darkened room in short order. Another terse few minutes of conversation finally have the Ancient One, alongside her right-hand man, walking back with the duo. [Bruce has to quell his knee-jerk reaction to run when he feels how everyone's attention when he mentions Thor's mention of 'mind magics' and something about stones? Man, he hated magic.]

A quick portal [that had the Avengers shifting and tensing uneasily when it'd opened, because hello security concerns] trip later, and Steve is a hairsbreadth away from snapping when the Ancient One surges backwards from where she'd run a few cursory hands near Tony's head.

"Who did this?" She asked, devastated fury evident in her tone and the way her companion moved to protect her. "This is an unspeakable act, punishable by death."

"They're dead." Clint replied, cold smile on his face and rolling an arrow [one of Tony's designs, one he'd been fiddling with before Sokovia] between his fingers.

"Good," the Ancient One bites out, "this is a travesty. It's mentioned in our archives, but only strong magicians with years of training even dare approach this, and only ever for healing purposes."

"Is there anything you can do?" Thor asked, "Few mages in Asgard specialize in this branch, and among that number the ones I knew who were capable of it are dead."

She looks at them, at the desperate look in their eyes, at the weariness in Bruce's face and the tension in Steve's frame and utter blankness in Natasha's expression, and smiles.

"Yes. It requires a lot of delicacy and preparation, especially for something that's lasted as long as this, but yes. Your friend is strong; it's been centuries since a human's been recorded with being under this, and they all died within three days."

Steve dented his chair when he sat back down, while Natasha merely tilted her head and replied, "It's been a week."

That added to the urgency, apparently: the Ancient One shared a look of horrified awe with Mordo, and set to work making their various preparations. Within the hour, they were ready, and when she asked if they would permit some of Kamar-Taj's students to observe the enchantment necessary for it, the team had a hurried, hushed debate.

"Please use your discretion. Only those who would not impede the process, I suppose." Natasha finally said, electing to be the Avenger's spokesperson [now that Tony was out of commission nope don't think about it—].

Steve didn't leave Tony's side until a few minutes before the ritual started; and then, he couldn't look away from the growing circle and only blinked when the light got too close to blinding even for him, and when he heard a quietly heartbroken "so was I" and a scream Thor had to help hold him down to keep from interfering.

Clint, meanwhile, shifted the entire time, antsy about magic and couldn't help but envy Bruce for stepping outside [the Other Guy was even less of a fan of magic than he was, and that took effort], and trying not to stare too openly at one of the students who'd elected to watch the ceremony. It was kind of hard, actually; he'd introduced himself as Dr. Stephen Strange, but in the minutes that it'd taken for Mordo to finish setting up the room, Clint couldn't help but notice the way the man hadn't stopped with the questions [much like Tony had with Thor nope nope he'd wake up dammit—] and it was uncanny, especially with the Van Dyke the man was sporting.

The ceremony's completed, and Tony's heart stopped partway through.

Fortunately, apparently Strange had actually been a medical doctor in the past, and between him, Bruce, and the Iron Man suit JARVIS had  commandeered to help in this endeavor, restarting it was less stressful than the past few hours had been.

"He should wake soon," the Ancient One told them, "make sure he takes it easy while he recovers, it's not often that people survive a death-curse."

The Avengers in general thanked her profusely, and JARVIS did the same. Then, at long last, they went home.

Tony wakes up to JARVIS' voice updating him about New York's weather forecast and stock prices and his relief of his latest change in status, with the familiar beeping of a heart monitor in the background. [Well, now familiar, at least, between Rhodey and Happy and nope—]

"Hey, Vision, where you at?"

"Sir, who is this 'Vision' you speak of? It is currently May—"

Tony sat up abruptly, heart starting to hammer again as he took in his surroundings. "Vision, where am I? This isn't funny."

"Sir, I am JARVIS. Do you require medical assistance?"

Tony froze from where he'd been running a hand through his hair. "JARVIS?" He breathed, and then looked around again carefully, "Oh, god. I lost it, didn't I?"

JARVIS was alarmed when Sir started laughing, and then his breath hitched and he started crying.

As such, it was perfectly understandable that he urged the Avengers to hurry; Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanov had been sparring in the gym while Capt. Rogers had been coming back from lunch, and Thor was currently in the middle of yet another Q&A session with the Ancient One concerning possible extraplanetary threats and magic.

Tony was barely getting his bearings back, and wondering what the hell was going on, when the door burst open, and what the fuck?!

He couldn't quite hide a flinch when Steve surged towards him, relief evident on his face, and…what.

Why was he being hugged? Was this another attempt to kill him, wasn't Siberia enough? What the— why was Natasha smiling? No, strike that; why was Clint smiling? Bruce was here?! And why was he hearing JARVIS' voice from the walls and not from Vision, again?

"Oh, god. I've really lost it this time, haven't I?"

The story comes out, of course.

Tony doesn’t know why Steve refuses to let him go if at all possible, but the part of him that hopes this isn't just some nervous breakdown isn't shy about enjoying the hugs [even if they got almost too tight in some parts, like when his voice broke when talking about Ultron, or the Civil War and it was all his fault—] and the way the team didn't seem to hate him [for once].

Actually…Tony isn't sure if he's really lost it, but he's also not sure if he wants to find out. Because here, JARVIS lives, and Rhodey can walk, and people actually listen to him about his worries and actually seem to care—

Clint and Natasha share a Look, the more Tony goes on. [Clearly, they'd been too merciful, when dealing with Wanda.]

Bruce greeted Tony with a smile, and then gave him some personal space: he knew him well enough to know it'd be appreciated, and what with the way the rest of the team was acting, Tony'd be lucky if he so much as went to the bathroom without an armed escort for the rest of the year.

Thor, when he arrives, tries to wrap Tony up in a hug—which makes for a dicey situation, because Steve refuses to let him go and Natasha and Clint are also a lot more likely to try to cuddle right now after the scare they all had. There may or may not be a small battle royale going on in the living room for the best spot on the couch, whenever Tony so much as gets up for a glass of water.

[aka Tony gets all the hugs]

Steve, meanwhile, is just as bad as JARVIS regarding his willingness to let Tony out of his eyesight. That is to say, he's very unwilling to do so. As in, barely willing to let him out of arms' distance, and that'd been before he'd heard about Tony's ordeal. [He hadn’t noticed Tony's flinch at first, but it's not until he heard about the 'Civil War', and Siberia that it hits home, just why he'd reacted that way, and it hurts.]

JARVIS has been in Sentry Mode since Sokovia. He has yet to let Sir out of his sensors' range, and the odds of that ever happening lower with each day that passes. Not that Sir's complaining; more than once, he'd simply called, "JARVIS?" just to hear a response, and seemed to take comfort in his updates about the situation.

Colonel James 'Rhodey' Rhodes had been in the middle of a mission, when JARVIS informed him of Tony's coma. If it hadn't been so sensitive, he would've up and vanished, but as it was he was the only thing between a warlord and a poor province until backup arrived, and though he burned to leave ASAP, he couldn't. [Tony'd never forgive him.]

The moment the op was over, though, and the people were safe, James pushed his suit to the limit to get to Tony's side, where his best friend was awake and coherent and rushing in for a tight hug just like he'd been after Afghanistan. He knows exactly why Rogers refuses to let go of Tony [even if it's for starkly different reasons; the man was not subtle at all, and if he hadn't known Tony for years, James'd wonder if he was being purposefully obtuse, because this was getting ridiculous].

He stays for as long as he can manage, and the way Tony just collapsed into his side each time means he's sharing increasingly concerned looks with the Avengers, because he's known Tony to be rather stoic about some things [ha—understatement of the year], and yet the friend he's known for decades teared up the moment he strode into the room, and what the hell happened to him?!

But no matter; he'll be there for Tony. Just like always.

Pepper's much the same way, having been dealing with investors in Japan, and able only to arrive after all had been said and done [though she'd noticed the haunted look in Tony's eyes, and made a note to talk with James and JARVIS about what actions needed to be taken to remedy this]. She wraps him up in a hug when she first sees him, and the way he'd only slowly relaxed was enough of a warning in and of itself, to her.

She's got a business meeting coming up, but in the meantime she and Tony curl up and watch old French movies with the lights off, and sharing blankets and granola without a care for crumbs. [She smiles when he finally loses that last edge of tension, when he slumps bonelessly against her and the couch, and doesn’t make a comment about the blinking earpiece he’s got, the one JARVIS likes to use whenever Tony’s out and about and needing a discreet way to stay connected. Tony was strong, he’d pull through. And she’d help him, whenever he asked it of her, as per usual.] 

Time passes, and Tony heals. 

He stops flinching at everyone’s sudden movements, stops startling whenever he hears JARVIS, gradually starts opening up again and lowering his guard, inch by inch. Slowly starts to up his chatter again, and the team’s never been more relieved than when the familiar strains of AC/DC start to filter through again, after months of silence [because Tony only ever played music when he was comfortable, when he felt safe and happy and secure with his place in the world].

Time passes, and everyone gradually moves on, though JARVIS' Sentry Mode is still a constant shadow to Tony and the Avengers' paranoia regarding magic never really goes away, not until months after Stephen Strange becomes a consultant and they see him and Tony bantering about facial hair and Arthur C. Clarke and doctorates.

Time passes, and when Thanos arrives, it's to an Earth with a set of guardians all as fiercely protective of each other as a pack of wolves, a tight-knit and cohesive unit devastating both on the battlefield and off of it.

[Suffice it is to say, Thanos doesn’t walk away from that particular encounter.]

There’s more going on in the background, of course. Exhibit A being the romance subplot [that could apply to just about any pairing in this scenario], and I’ve really skimmed just how long it takes for Tony to heal from experiencing canon events. 

Steven Strange’s part got shifted up in the timeline, and the Ancient One doesn’t die; instead, he ends up being a consultant for the Avengers, but his focus is on keeping the New York Sanctum safe. [Mordo, Wong, and James Rhodes just share a Look, the moment they first see Tony Stark and Stephen Strange in the same room. It may or may not have been one of horrified awe, of ‘oh god there’s two of them’, minutes before the first explosion started.]

...FYI, this JARVIS is basically TWiFFON’s JARVIS, and just my approach to him in general. That is to say, his focus on Tony’s safety and happiness is one of [if not the] biggest motivation for his actions, and a morality a lot more nebulous than most would probably be comfortable with, given he’s basically Skynet as is.

[ryuuguu-rena]

→ R ・U ・L・ E ・S

Rules { last UPDATE - 05/30/2019 }

x- I will not rp with everyone, I’m currently indie but very selective.

please note that my blog here is highly selective. I will only interact and rp with people I feel comfortable with. With other words I can be picky when it comes to whom I follow. If we aren’t mutuals it doesn’t mean you can’t send me asks or memes but please know that it’s very unlikely that I will start a rp with you. I will however, always try to answer everything as much as I can ic; and eventually ooc;

x- posts&&;threads

I can write starters but not particularly fond of doing so. I think I’m not skilled enough to come up with an interesting intro. Sometimes I’ll post starters however…

Each day, there is a chance I reblog at maximal 5 memes. Exceptions can happen but it will never go beyond 7 memes per day. I don’t want to spam your dash.

If you want to reply to an ask or meme , then please post a new thread tagging me in it. I don’t like reblogging asks.

When I reblog memes, feel free to send me some it can be either ic, on anon or off. I will definitely try my best to reply to each ask

my writing style differs via mode. Sometimes I write a lot, sometimes not. My preferences are para-semi and novella. There is absolutely no need for you to do the same in return. But if we have chosen a semi para rp I ask kindly that you refrain from sending a single line as reply. I always allow this for asks and crack rps tho. I’m not a professional writer so please expect me to have writing flaws. English is not my native language after all. But I do my best.

roleplay

Planning to kill my character? Notify me first and we’ll discuss it. mentally or physically tormenting my character is okay but refrain from anything lewd.

When we start a roleplay, I try always strictly to stay in character, Rena will not just appear in your timeline/world without a proper plot.

I approve of M!A’s but I have a right to refuse them when I don’t like them, or think of them as too ooc;

If you are part of a MMOFRPG group and would like to rp with me, don’t be afraid to approach me. I used to rp at MMOFRPG for an entire year and I don’t mind roleplaying with you just because you’re part of a group.

I do have mains, And I don’t intent to replace them. Chances are very high I will reply to my mains first before anyone else. but that does not mean I ignore you, I will get to your reply too. If you however think I missed it, hit me up pls.

I try my best to make each roleplay enjoyable for my roleplay partner, chances are , I’m trying even to meet your way of writing, to please you.]

I can be very slow with replies, please be patient.

Threads come and go. Don’t take it badly when I drop our thread, we can always start a new one. or maybe our preferences of writing just doesn’t match, in that case I’m still willing to interact ic; via asks and similar but long threads are out of question.

If I drop a rp it can have many different reasons but certainly not because I didn’t enjoy to rp with you. The same goes vice versa.

Mun is over 18 years old

Personally, when it comes to smut, I prefer noncon themes, Unless you rp Keiichi. because Rena loves Keiichi and out of her own will she wouldn’t even consider to sleep with anyone else. However, she often deals with people that clearly cross the line. Making her more insane.

IMPORTANT: I will not rp any lewd here with anyone.

The only one I sometimes rp this with is my husbando but we do not rp it here on tumblr.

Rena was almost raped in the past in Ibaraki. By the only male friends she made, 3 classmates- one of them ( Kouhai ) was related to her best friend Ozaki Nagisa. During the rape attempt , she injured the boys with a baseball bat, and smashed all the windows of the school. After that happening and after Nagisa’s death*  who was actually murdered ) she was left with a major trauma. Increasing her to believe more strongly into Oyashiro-sama’s curse. This is not made up or a headcanon, but it’s actually canon from Higurashi Sui - Tokihogushi-hen. You can look it up , if you wish to do so. The reason I mention this, is because not everyone knows about Tokihogushi-hen arc. I approve of that kind of rp because I absolutely love angsty-themed rps,

another aspect of this might be my husbando, since he roleplays mainly edgy Battler, it’s more ic; for our muses; rena loves Keiichi, and even if she falls for Battler during an rp, there is no way she’d fall for the edgy Battler too. Since he’s literally a nightmare of the original Battler.

mun&IMPORTANT details!

Please note that what I write has nothing to with the real me. Though, I won’t lie that my muse and me are very similar, I’m in no way supporting everything that my muse does.

Furthermore, I know that RP is just for fun indeed, However. Rena is REALLY important to me. I rp  Rena since a long long time and never got bored of it and never will.  Rena is not just a muse/character for me, it’s basically part of my life and very strong influence on me. Not to mention we share lots of things in common. Rena helps me to keep my cool. This character means all to me. It’s literally a part of myself, very important to my soul. So much that I changed my real name to Rena long ago.

This is also why , I’m trying absolutely always my best to be absolutely ic; and that’s not difficult to do for me because I know all the higurashi games and even study japanese. You may will realize this whenever I talk/rp with someone of my rp partners in kanji.  

Due to learning japanese, I keep using lots of japanese catch phases that Rena says during rp’s. However, I never use anything that may seems too hard to be understood. So please do not let this be of a disturbance to you , If you ever want to know what I’m saying however, please just mention it in your tags.

Now as for myself, there isn’t much to say. I told you already my real name is Rena and I’m a hardcore 07thExpansion fan. I’m actually mysterious and not very open hearted. Some may even see me as arrogant for being an INTJ. but that’s not true at all, I’m just a picky person in general. I have a sideblog that I use mainly to reblog and post all kind of 07thExpansion stuff and moe culture. @maid-rena​

Discord/SKYPE/TWITTER: is eventually available upon request

this blog will have trigger warning contents.

RP’s can get quite dark, angsty, psychotic and bloody. Trigger warning content such as gore, homicide, torture, self-harm, can or will happen, but will be tagged accordingly.

IMPORTANT: Again, I will never approve of a smut rp here on tumblr.

formating

Edits, Icons and Layout are made by myself unless otherwise stated. Most of my icons are edited and cleaned by me, please don’t use them.

I made over 1k icons before but unfortunately. I lost many, likely I will make new icons again.

the mun faceclaim here for myself is roon from azur lane

I’m not the best editor however and I really suck making themes so chances are low that I will update my theme often. However if you’re skilled and talented in editing and making themes, then you’re absolutely free to help me out, Like, totally  ~

I sometimes use scripting and sometimes not, it’s always up to my laziness and mood and it often depends on me being mobile or using my laptop.

about rena

Rena has been through a lot of shit. She is bad-ass insane at times. However, Rena isn’t a killer-loli, She’s much more than that. Despite her usual cheerful and childish behavior, she’s actually one of the most matured characters in Higurashi with a really deep personality. And I will roleplay her accurate to the games not the anime.

You may consider Rena as a Yangire which isn’t just wrong, but please keep in mind that her deceiving treats come from her delusions most of the time and such come again by 80% from the hinamizawa syndrom.

Rena has the highest number of murders of the club members because in Yoigoshi-hen (the alternate version of Tsumihoroboshi-hen) she successfully blew up the whole school which killed 15 children (including herself, Mion, Satoko, Rika and Keiichi), likewise, she murdered Houjou Teppei and Mamiya Rina.

Rena is not mentally labile, tho she may seems evil at times, she is neither good or bad. One could most likely say she’s very ‘sick’ at times. Absolutely delusional.  If I had to categorize her, I’d say she’s “chaotic good”.

For further information about her mental disorders, please follow this LINK

[guttersnipequeen]

Mob Psycho 100 Fanfiction Masterpost: Shipping Edition (Part 1)

UPDATE - JULY 21, 2017

That good terumob content! 

(fics for the pairing of Teruki Hanazawa/Shigeo Kageyama)

These are all for either teen and up or general audiences. 

If you feel like there is a work that belongs on this list that isn’t on it, please let me know. If there a is work that involves non-con please let me know because then it doesn’t belong on this list. If there is a work on this list that makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please let me know and I’ll take it off the list. 

I’m excited because there are a couple of works here from my mutuals. Featuring gutter-girl-100, unluckyships, prettypistachio, and a lot of other great writers. 

*Some of the authors in this post aren’t very well known, but they put so much time and energy into their fics. If you read a fic that you don’t think is getting enough love, please leave a small comment for the author. It’ll make their day. 

Thank you, and enjoy!

day tour

azatoi

Teru goes biking with Mob, Ritsu, and Shou. (lowkey terumob)

Complete

General Audiences

it’s okay to rest

blankedp

How Mob managed to think that everything the blond boy does was platonic, Teru didn't know.All he knew at the moment was that his stomach was full of lasagna, his wallet was on the brink of being empty, and that Mob looked quite amazing in the lighting of the sunset. 

General Audiences

Complete

A Way With Words

Entrenched

Shigeo asks Teruki to help him write a letter. 

General Audiences

Complete

how the light gets in

iapetuses

“Then, I think, I probably do like you.” 

“Are you practicing, Kageyama-kun?" 

General Audiences

Complete

I’ll Spot You

PKbodyrockin

Gym AU. Just guys being dudes. Lifting weights, holding hands, falling in love, 

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Hell is Real (So Hurry Up and Kiss Already)

heihua

Teruki and Mob would like to insist that they're just close friends. Nothing more. Ritsu would like to disagree. Shou would like to disagree. The whole student body of Salt and Black Vinegar middle school combined would like to disagree. (Debatable terumob? Might be platonic. Either way, very cute.)

General Audiences

Complete

psychic poetry

MaRuX

"Teruki is embarrassed, flustered by his own sudden confession, mortified at the brashness of his softly puckered lips, leaning towards the one person he cherishes more than he ever thought possible."

Teru and Mob, sitting closely, K-I-S-S-I-N-G 

General Audiences

Complete

A Bus Ride and Lights Cast

RadleyPlant

A bus, bathed in yellows, the soft rattle of metal, and an ever softer smile. Teru knew it was right, beside him 

General Audiences

Complete

Uncursing

orphan_account

Spirits And Such Consultation Office offers romantic advice to troubled youths and curse lifting for exactly the same price – there's not much difference between those two after all. 

General Audience

Complete

Pancakes

heeyitsmk 

After a sleepover at Teru's apartment Mob and Teru decide to make breakfast together.

There's laughs, a ton of blushing, and just good wholesome TeruMob.

General Audiences

Complete

Kintsukuroi

ribbontype

Brief snapshots of a life. Teruki Hanazawa finds himself a little too far from the person that he was, and a little too shy of the person he'd prefer to be. 

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Somewhere Old, Somewhere New

Deliverance_Girl

During one of his bike touring excursions, Teru stumbles upon a place from his past. 

General Audiences

Complete

The Fairest of Them All

Sifl

Teru gets put in his place. 

General Audiences

Complete

Not For the Last Time

1010nabulation

Teru feels the sting of defeat and it lays him low, like it always does. What he doesn't expect is for Mob to care enough to come to his aid. Revelations are had and the two become closer than either had ever thought possible... 

Not Rated/Hurt/Comfort

Complete

A Light Distraction

Komarty

“Nii-san, what's wrong? You look troubled.”

“What makes you say that?” Mob asked monotonously as he continued melting into the couch. 

General Audiences

Complete

familiarity

justlikeswitchblades

Snowed in till the next morning, Mob and Teru share a moment in the middle of the night. 

General Audiences

Complete

Loop Loop & Dive

prettypistachio

It doesn't matter what shape or colour your aura as an esper is, Mob realised, it's all the same in the end when that special person makes yours loop loop & dive. 

If You Wait for the Right Moment it Will Never Come

gutter_guy_100

Teru and Tome make a bet.

Teen and Up Audiences

Incomplete

It's Only Algebra

Brostrid

Mob's having trouble with Math so Teruki suggests he can help! Sort of.

General Audiences

Complete

 Romantic dinner date, or not

buttoniris

When he said dinner date, he was thinking something a little more romantic. Like maybe nice candles, dim lights, expensive steak. But he could work with this. He could work with Mcdonalds.

General Audiences

Complete

Enthralling

unluckyships

Teru has a sleepover at Mob's house. Things are going great till both kids settle down for the night. 

General Audiences

Complete

Growth

Kinyve

Mob has grown. Teru is worried for his heart. 

Teen and Up Audiences

 the wilted flowers that i gave, not as nice as your bouquet

higgsburied

Mob and Teru on a date. Mob stims. Teru worries. 

General Audiences

Complete

growth

amaranthinecanicular

The garden grows.

Not Rated/Gen

Complete

ah, young love!

dreamsdark

One kid was already enough to manage, but Reigen couldn’t just ignore this. 

General Audiences

Complete

Oh, September

TeaHime

Mob asks Teru to teach him how to play the ukulele.

General Audiences

Incomplete

The Fourth Day

haikyuute

I made this for a friend, so if you're reading this, hello! I hope it's up to your standards! <3

This is my first time writing for MP100, I hope it isn't too ooc or anything, let me know if there's anything I could do to improve!

Enjoy! 

General Audiences

Complete

The Natural Progression of Things

ichigomilk

The way Shigeo feels about Hanazawa Teruki develops naturally. A chain of events that was only logical, he realizes. 

General Audiences

Incomplete

That’s A Bummer, Dude

LossOfBrains

Hanazawa Teruki didn't use to mind living alone, but the incident with Dimple and the Divine Tree changed that. So, when Reigen Arataka offered to let Teru move in, he wasn't entirely against the idea. Not when it meant relieving some of the burdens of living by oneself... not to mention Teru would get to see Reigen's cute, psychic disciple more often...

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

The Accelerated Velocity of Terminological Inexactitude

LogicalBookThief

Teru offers to fake date Mob in order to gain Tsubomi's attention.

His own crush on Mob makes this plan somewhat problematic.

General Audiences

Complete

Sticking Together

GamerGirlKaboom

Teruki and Mob hang out for the day ♡

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

deserving

determination

Teru is haunted by the past. Shigeo brings him back to the present.

General Audiences

Complete

ornament

azatoi

Teru and Mob confront another possessed plant.

Complete

General Audiences

Hell is Real (So Hurry Up and Kiss Already)

heihua

Teruki and Mob would like to insist that they're just close friends. Nothing more. Ritsu would like to disagree. Shou would like to disagree. The whole student body of Salt and Black Vinegar middle school combined would like to disagree. (Debatable terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

psychic poetry

MaRuX

"Teruki is embarrassed, flustered by his own sudden confession, mortified at the brashness of his softly puckered lips, leaning towards the one person he cherishes more than he ever thought possible."

Teru and Mob, sitting closely, K-I-S-S-I-N-G (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

A Bus Ride and Lights Cast

RadleyPlant

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8666698

A bus, bathed in yellows, the soft rattle of metal, and an ever softer smile. Teru knew it was right, beside him (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Uncursing

orphan_account

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8817202 

Spirits And Such Consultation Office offers romantic advice to troubled youths and curse lifting for exactly the same price – there's not much difference between those two after all. (terumob)

General Audience

Complete 

Pancakes

heeyitsmk

After a sleepover at Teru's apartment Mob and Teru decide to make breakfast together.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8862670 

There's laughs, a ton of blushing, and just good wholesome TeruMob.

General Audiences

Complete

Kintsukuroi

ribbontype

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8973514 

Brief snapshots of a life. Teruki Hanazawa finds himself a little too far from the person that he was, and a little too shy of the person he'd prefer to be. (terumob)

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Somewhere Old, Somewhere New

Deliverance_Girl

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8989669 

During one of his bike touring excursions, Teru stumbles upon a place from his past. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

The Fairest of Them All

Sifl

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8954434 

Teru gets put in his place. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

deserving

determination

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8752819 

Teru is haunted by the past. Shigeo brings him back to the present.

General Audiences

Complete

Not For the Last Time

1010nabulation

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8429098 

Teru feels the sting of defeat and it lays him low, like it always does. What he doesn't expect is for Mob to care enough to come to his aid. Revelations are had and the two become closer than either had ever thought possible... (terumob)

Not Rated/Hurt/Comfort

Complete

A Light Distraction

Komarty

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9036395/chapters/20575892 

“Nii-san, what's wrong? You look troubled.”

“What makes you say that?” Mob asked monotonously as he continued melting into the couch. (terumob, ritshou)

familiarity

justlikeswitchblades

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9126454 

Snowed in till the next morning, Mob and Teru share a moment in the middle of the night. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Loop Loop & Dive

prettypistachio

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9249236/chapters/20968733 

It doesn't matter what shape or colour your aura as an esper is, Mob realised, it's all the same in the end when that special person makes yours loop loop & dive. (terumob)

If You Wait for the Right Moment it Will Never Come

gutter_girl_100

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9102262/chapters/20690413 

Teru and Tome make a bet. (terumob, femslash)

Teen and Up Audiences

Incomplete

It's Only Algebra

Brostrid

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9154729 

Mob's having trouble with Math so Teruki suggests he can help! Sort of (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Romantic dinner date, or not

buttoniris

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9172465 

When he said dinner date, he was thinking something a little more romantic. Like maybe nice candles, dim lights, expensive steak. But he could work with this. He could work with Mcdonalds. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Enthralling

unluckyships

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9184252 

Teru has a sleepover at Mob's house. Things are going great till both kids settle down for the night. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Growth

Kinyve

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8042689/chapters/18420823 

Mob has grown. Teru is worried for his heart. (terumob)

Teen and Up Audiences

the wilted flowers that i gave, not as nice as your bouquet

higgsburied

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9365825 

Mob and Teru on a date. Mob stims. Teru worries. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

growth

amaranthinecanicular

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9347420 

The garden grows. (terumob)

Not Rated/Gen

Complete

ah, young love!

dreamsdark

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9338120 

One kid was already enough to manage, but Reigen couldn’t just ignore this. (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

Oh, September

TeaHime

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9560816/chapters/21617186 

Mob asks Teru to teach him how to play the ukulele. (terumob)

General Audiences

Incomplete

The Fourth Day

haikyuute

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9585194 

I made this for a friend, so if you're reading this, hello! I hope it's up to your standards! <3

This is my first time writing for MP100, I hope it isn't too ooc or anything, let me know if there's anything I could do to improve!

Enjoy! (terumob)

General Audiences

Complete

The Natural Progression of Things

ichigomilk

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9582440/chapters/21663911 

The way Shigeo feels about Hanazawa Teruki develops naturally. A chain of events that was only logical, he realizes. (terumob)

General Audiences

Incomplete

That’s A Bummer, Dude

LossOfBrains

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8631211

Hanazawa Teruki didn't use to mind living alone, but the incident with Dimple and the Divine Tree changed that. So, when Reigen Arataka offered to let Teru move in, he wasn't entirely against the idea. Not when it meant relieving some of the burdens of living by oneself... not to mention Teru would get to see Reigen's cute, psychic disciple more often...

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

A Different Outcome

MiserableRu

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8209579/chapters/18812431

In a world where it is not a peaceful life that Mob seeks, but redemption, the road to recovery seems so far-fetched, a distant dream that nobody could hope to achieve.

General Audiences

The Accelerated Velocity of Terminological Inexactitude

LogicalBookThief

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8517301/chapters/19522375

Teru offers to fake date Mob in order to gain Tsubomi's attention.

His own crush on Mob makes this plan somewhat problematic.

General Audiences

Incomplete

Sticking Together

GamerGirlKaboom

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8561416

Teruki and Mob hang out for the day ♡

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

UPDATE:

When there's nothing but the long way 'round

Taisi (izthehero)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9623252/chapters/21741218 

If it were anyone else, his tone would have been teasing, and the thoughtful lift of his brow would have been playful, and the tilt to his mouth would have leaned closer to a warm smile.

As it is, only bits and pieces make it through Kageyama’s careful repression, shining like irrepressible dawn through tiny cracks in a window shade, and Teruki blinks rapidly, something like sunspots dancing across his eyes.

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Silences

mugen

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9629498 

There are different type of silences. Hanazawa Teruki is used to some, but some of them are new.

General Audiences

Complete

The Natural Progression of Things

ichigomilk

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9582440/chapters/21663911 

The way Shigeo feels about Hanazawa Teruki develops naturally. A chain of events that was only logical, he realizes.

General Audiences

Complete

Sunflower Sunday

orphan_account

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10027355 

"Do you like sunflowers, Kageyama-kun?"

General Audiences

Complete

Mob is Loved

lilpea

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10073027 

Mob figures out that he has a crush when he starts high school. Featuring Best Bro Ritsu and lots of happy feelings!

General Audiences

Complete

You are not alone, we love you

the_analyst_biblophile

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10077041/chapters/22457393 

Mob is anxious, his friends try to help. Teru seems to care a lot, but not in the same way mob hopes be does

General Audiences

Incomplete

Last Minute

Pastel_Ink

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10081676 

Boy I am just popping out fics lol this is a happy one I swear.

General Audiences

Complete

I like cats

AuroCyanide

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10081715 

Teruki helps pull Shigeo out of a waterway after a fumbled attempt to rescue a stranded cat.

General Audiences

Complete

Shigeo's prerogative

prettypistachio

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10096745 

Five things Mob is entitled to as Teruki's boyfriend, and one thing Teruki isn't entitled to yet.

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Proximity

ghostflannel

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9836372/chapters/22079507 

Shigeo is starting to panic. Teruki is painfully unaware. Ritsu is watching it all happen, like a fiery, horrifying train wreck.

General Audiences

Incomplete

A private affair, of sorts

pundeserving

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10173029 

Teruki is an expert in keeping a calm, suave persona, but when Mob brings a plus-one to their (alleged) date he has a hard time keeping his cool.

General Audiences

Complete

We Can Talk About It Tomorrow

heeyitsmk

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8355361 

"He wasn’t exactly sure when it happened, but what Hanazawa Teruki was dealing with right now was far beyond anything he was ever prepared for. Kageyama Shigeo, fast asleep—on Teru’s LAP of all places."

My first ever fic of these two, so of course it's just a mess of fluff.

General Audiences

Complete

The Shock of Defeat

whaleshork

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8970067 

A sick Teru gets a visit from his worried boyfriend.

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete 

 Meetings

Loloshroom

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8971201 

The large bodied boys were just visible as they passed the gate. They went by so quickly

however, Teru didn't get a good look at any of them. Except one.

General Audiences

Complete

Chick Flicks are Poor References for Romance

fireflysummers_ao3

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8812540 

Mob knew next to nothing about being in a relationship.

In terms of advice, he was still at a loss. Shishou seemed to understand the precepts of being in a relationship, without actually understanding, as it was something that he had never shown any desire to pursue. Ritsu, although popular, keeps mostly to his studies or expanding his vast collection of kitchen cutlery.

There was, of course, Teru, who had ample spotlight and dating experience to give reasonable advice. Teru would have been the first lifeline, if he hadn’t been the core of the issue. 

General Audiences 

Complete 

Winter Training

lilpea

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9455447 

Reigen takes the esper kids out on a special training session.

(Alternatively: Mob has a good time with his friends, has fun in the snow, and feels loved. Slight TeruMob in the beginning.)

General Audiences

Complete

 The Night Is the Hardest Time to Be Alive and 4am Knows All of My Secrets

Alphawulf

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9376805 

His eyes open once more, and he shifts until he is sitting up, his blankets falling onto his lap.

He knows when trying to fall back asleep is a futile effort.

General Audiences

Complete 

Dance With Me

mekamaxine

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9592514 

Mob and Teru are watching a Disney movie when they decide to try copying the dancers on screen. It's about as clumsy and cheesy as you'd expect.

General Audiences 

Complete 

Bring Me Back Down

ichigomilk

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9610013 

Even if Shigeo drifts away, Teruki will always bring him back.

General Audiences

Complete

Chocolates

reiqenarataka

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9711992 

Reigen had shown Mob all the basics of chocolate-making first, but aside from that, Mob had made this chocolate all by himself. The chocolate had gotten a little burnt, but Reigen had assured him it wouldn't make much difference. All in all, Mob was content with the final product, handmade and hand-wrapped in a pale pink box and tied shut with a red ribbon covered in little hearts and edged with glitter. It looked rather simple compared to the elegant boxes Mob had seen on display in stores around town and Mob hoped it would hold up well against that kind of taste.

Especially since Teruki Hanazawa usually had a taste for flare.

General Audiences

Complete

You're So Sweet And I Love You

ichigomilk

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9769535 

If Shigeo had never had the chance to celebrate Valentine's day before, then Teruki would be the one to change that.

General Audiences

Complete

On the Superfluous Nature of Affection

UncannyCookie

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9829289 

Teru discovers the first Valentine's chocolate that actually means something to him.

General Audiences

Complete

Lanterns

potatoeatingintensifies

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9855716 

Mob has a bad dream. Teru distracts his boyfriend with a personalized lightshow.

General Audiences

Complete

Did it hurt?

AuroCyanide

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9909200  

Mob accompanies Teruki to get his ears pierced.

General Audiences

Complete

the sun's true place

LordPeanut

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10100804/chapters/22500917  

I’m sure I’ll figure it out in time.

His own words echo for days after that, not for lack of trying to ignore them. If anyone were to ask Teru, he’d say that he has everything planned out perfectly, that his unwavering relaxed attitude was simply a side effect of careful consideration, anyone could do it.

Anyone could, he supposes, if they were to take the time for it.

Title from John Flamstead's "Philosophical Transactions", 1669

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

You're Amazing

azeher

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10504938 

Teruki has found a new hobby, he likes to design outfits and also wear them. He shares this hobby of his with Mob on a snowy saturday afternoon.

General Audiences

Complete

Blossom Hills

BakanoHealthy

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10528608 

The disease raise like a wave and washed over them. They tried not to get caught in the flow, but it got them anyway, in one way or another.

General Audiences

Complete

wouldn't it be nice

higgsburied

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10594080 

Now that they're living out on their own, Teru and Mob decide it's time to adopt - a pet, that is.

General Audiences

Complete

Outset

Kas0114

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10654413 

Mob gets a haircut on the first day of his freshman year of high school.

General Audiences

Complete

Our Halycon Days

cancelleria

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10543852 

An internecine spat between Teru and Mob leaves the two of them estranged, right up to their twenties. After running into a drunk Shigeo one night, they are both forced to confront unfinished business. Is this angst? Maybe. With fluff as an after-dinner mint.

Fair warning - there's a sprinkle of cussing.

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Advice for the Student

Shiny_Umbreonz

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10571814 

A 15 year old Mob gets rejected by his childhood crush, Tsubomi, and goes to his shishou for comfort and advice.

General Audiences

Complete

Sugar

inspectorwired

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10770942 

Bright dresses and tuxedos, clattering and chattering through the music all around him, his friends, people his age, either seated near him or already up and dancing in the middle of the room. Excited, nervous, laughing about missing pieces of youth.

Mob feels like it’s too fast, everything around him, happening at a speed he can’t control; the colors are too loud, perfumes, moments, too full. He wishes he could get a hold of the brakes and pull with all his might; wishes that, just for a while, he could hold onto this moment, put everything on pause to give him time to think and feel and breathe...

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

On being good

inspectorwired

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10815837 

If he were someone that was easy to love, he thinks, it wouldn’t be that hard to love himself, maybe.

Teen and Up Audiences

Complete

Sunflowers and Gold

Frecklefrog

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10564164/chapters/23339811 

Teru adopts a cat.

General Audiences

Incomplete

don't wake me up

exogenesis

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10970667 

you are fresh clothes out of a dryer,

you are the feeling of cool water between my toes,

you are the high note of my song,

you are

and that's my favorite thing about you.

General Audiences

Complete

Tian

cancelleria

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9317573/chapters/21116483 

There were two things Mob knew about the sky. There were two things Mob only wanted to know about the sky.

It stretched on infinitely. It was blue because more blue was scattered than red.

When he realised, though, that it might facilitate his love life, he enlists the help of Hanazawa Teruki - to learn to fly. Acrophobia isn't the only thing he helps him overcome.

General Audiences

Incomplete

close enough to touch

Sparrows

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11210088 

"you don't want to meet that girl like this. you wanted to show her the real you, and this isn't it."

[this is the real me. this is my power... this is all of my power.]

i took that cliffhanger and made it real gay, i'm sorry

General Audiences

Complete

A Matter Of Time

Silvervictory

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10136903/chapters/22531526 

One day, Mob realizes he has a crush on his best friend, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

General Audiences

Incomplete

A Good Year

menami

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11166489/chapters/24924108 

For one year, Teruki's life is dangerous and exciting, and it was all because of a boy to whom he gave the name Shigeo.

Teen and Up Audiences

Incomplete