#sorry the ending is Like That but if i get any more inspiration I'll work on an ending.. or endings idk
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
beekeeperspicnic · 3 months ago
Text
Advanced warning that this made me cry when I thought about it, and then I shared it with friends and it made them cry too, but I think it's ultimately a nice thought so I want to share it. Sorry if it gives you the sniffles.
I'm always cautious when it comes to parasocial relationships - with actors I don't actually want to know the ins and outs of their lives, they are strangers to me and that's how it should be.
But like a lot of Sherlock Holmes fans I've ended up becoming a Jeremy Brett fan to some extent, because first you love his performance, then you find out the sheer dedication he put into that role, and then you find out how he did so while coping with significant mental and physical health problems, and then you hear story after story which suggests he was a lovely man whose mind seemed to put barrier after barrier in the way of him getting to experience the full extent of the joy he put out into the world. And I think a lot of us identify with that.
There's a quote from "The Jeremy Brett - Linda Pritchard story" floating around on Tumblr where Pritchard describes how one thing which really bothered him at the end of his life was that he couldn't give any more performances for his fans. Apparently hearing that the Sherlock Holmes series was on video (something he hadn't considered because he didn't own a video player), and his fans could watch him over and over again, made him happy.
And of course, my first thought when I heard that is I think he'd be so happy to know we're still watching them and dissecting his every movement and expression.
But it also hit me because during Beekeeper's Picnic recording sessions, Jeremy Brett is mentioned so often. Ok we've got at least one actor who worked with him (and indeed reports unsurprisingly that he was "lovely"!) but also people my age who were kids or not born yet when that series aired - they're professional actors, for whom Jeremy Brett remains 'their' Holmes, their point of reference for the character.
I can't wait for all of you to get to hear our amazing Holmes actor James Quinn, but it wouldn't be feasible to get him in every recording, and so often our actors have to just read his lines and respond. Once, one of them said "I'll just imagine Jeremy Brett," and I love that so much. Somewhere baked into my little game, is an Imaginary Jeremy Brett, called forth by an actor needing a Holmes to bounce off.
Jeremy Brett's performance isn't locked in amber, a thing of the past. It's fresh for each new generation that sees it, and it inspires new performances and new art. He'd adore that, I'm sure.
And to get even more philosophical, I think that goes for all creative work - and anything else you do in life. No matter how big or small the action, you never know how big your ripples you leave behind are. It's worth remembering.
Tumblr media
732 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 8 months ago
Note
Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)
Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).
Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.
Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)
aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces
poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)
CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort
You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.
The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.
The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it. 
Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy. 
It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.
So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.
You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.
You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.
You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail. 
You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.
Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.
“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.
“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.
You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.
“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.
“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm. 
James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.
“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.
“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?���
Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”
“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.
“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.
“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness. 
Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.
“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”
“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.
“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.
“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily. 
“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.
“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.
“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.
“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”
James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”
“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”
“No, but-”
“Pettigrew’s?”
James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”
“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.
“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud. 
“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head. 
Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face. 
“Tosser.” James grumbled. 
“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you. 
Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content. 
“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.
“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.
“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.
Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James. 
“I���ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.
“About what?” Remus asked finally.
“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.
Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything. 
But Sirius spoke first.
“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.
And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?
1K notes · View notes
jonnywaistcoat · 9 months ago
Note
Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
1K notes · View notes
viennakarma · 8 months ago
Text
My dearest friend and enemy (2)
PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.1k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS
You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.
“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”
You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.
After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.
“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.
“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.
“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.
“I talked to Fernando and he-”
“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.
You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.
The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.
You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.
“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.
“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.
“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.
“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”
He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.
Then you blacked out.
When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.
You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 
Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.
“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.
“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.
“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”
“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.
“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.
“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.
“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.
You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.
But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.
“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.
“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”
“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”
You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.
The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.
“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.
“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.
“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”
Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 
That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.
You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.
But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.
There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.
You turned down the offer from Sauber.
The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.
“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.
“Negative, protect his position.”
“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”
“Negative, team orders.”
You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.
Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.
The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.
“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.
“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”
You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.
You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.
A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.
The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.
You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.
One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.
You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.
You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.
He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.
And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.
After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.
You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-
“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.
Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.
Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.
“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.
You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.
Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.
Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.
During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.
It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.
“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”
“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.
You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.
It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.
After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.
“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.
“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”
You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.
“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”
You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.
It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.
You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.
As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.
Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.
After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.
“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.
“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”
“What?” He frowned, confused.
“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”
Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.
You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.
But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.
Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.
After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.
“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”
You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.
“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”
“I’m going to Ferrari.”
And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.
Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.
One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.
“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.
“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.
“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”
“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.
You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.
Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.
Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-
Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.
Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.
Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.
Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.
Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.
After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.
When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.
It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.
“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.
But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.
That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.
Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.
When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.
“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.
“What?” You paused.
“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.
“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”
“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.
“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.
“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.
“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”
“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”
“We could restart. Try again-”
“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”
There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.
“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.
“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.
“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.
It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.
Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.
When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.
He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.
You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.
When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.
Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.
“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”
There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.
“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.
Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.
“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”
You turned around and walked away under the applause.
Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.
“Nena…”
It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 
“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.
“What?”
“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”
“No, I would not-”
“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 
“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”
“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”
“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.
“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.
“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”
“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”
“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”
“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”
“What new stuff?”
“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.
With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.
Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.
You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.
“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”
“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.
Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.
“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”
Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.
As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.
“We will be alright.”
TAG LIST: @loopnotloopythough @thegooglyeyedpumkin @fordlita @dudenhaaa27 @clockworkballerina @coffee-lover21 @inejismywife @dckgzz @multiplemando @thatsusbitch @hrts4scarr @mame-mp4 @heyheyheyggg @sam-f1 @shocolattesblog @sunnytkm23 @cmleitora @beskardroids @90intherain @clomo12345 @fall-bambi @emmdreams @booksandflowrs @iwmtfm @haloxmendes @yupnomeh @sittingalonereads @julesbog @luckyladycreator2 @c-losur3 @alliwantisadonut @velocesainz @adalynneva @croissantbakerylws @spideybv28 @hrrorflm @kimialaia @s4turnsl0ver @redfives @starksztony @bluechamp @astrostar24 @offbrand-slasher @splaterparty0-0 @foolforfer @madnesstaking0ver @sarahedwards16
@carlanno @enaticosencantados @too-many0-0fandoms @tatcutie @its-avalon-08 @mina-2056 @small-mean-dwarf @ironmaiden1313 @myhomeworksnotdone @albeelins @thesauronripper666 @teenwolf9-1-1lover @kat-s2 @freetimemachinequeen @mynicosensesaretingling @losore-prone @mrsmelinda @thatonesblog @strollnstroll @sadieurlady @chuxk-lerclerk @johnsmith1437386326263 @happylittlereader @formulanando @roguesourwolf @minkyungseokie @vampsarereal @kihc-zya @hjbbyyy @aloapple19 @users09 @feelslikealbon @smellybreath46 @a-disturbing-self-reflection @hereforfanficsnothingelse @kimialaia @danielricciardotr
702 notes · View notes
aticklishpercivalwriter · 5 months ago
Text
My Honey ♡ My Bee (fic)
Tumblr media
Link to Art (credits go to @munchr00m (elaine !) on Twitter!): Sethos/Scaramouche
Summary: Wanderer and Sethos hang out, but Scara’s thoughts and uncertainty about their dynamic in the future end up eating at him. Sethos reassures him through convincing means.
A/N: SethoScara!! These two have me in a chokehold and the art and fanfics for these two are amazing. And here is my contribution :) Inspiration for this fic comes from this post. I did my best to retain Scara’s bratty attitude, but I also wanted to show a softer and vulnerable side to him. So, I’m sorry if Scaramouche seems OOC to you all. With that being said, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
P.S. There is a small scene that might be slightly NSFW to some, you’ll see it when you get to it, so you can skip the section until you don’t see any of the stuff you don’t want to see. Can’t reveal too much for spoilers. If anyone’s interested in me writing a smut fic (would be my first!) for these two, let me know! I’ll leave a poll :)
Word Count: 1965 Also on AO3!
The sky was a mix of red and orange hues as the sun set over the horizon. At the base of a tree outside of Sumeru City sat Wanderer and Sethos. The two of them have grown to like each other’s presence and made the tree their special spot to be with one another.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sethos spoke.
“You have poor taste in beauty,” Scaramouche answered, making Sethos chuckle. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny.”
“Hehe, I know. I never get tired of your responses.”
“Hmph, weirdo.”
A comforting silence settled afterward before Scaramouche spoke again.
“Why…Why do you keep putting up with me?”
The seriousness in his tone made Sethos look at him with concern.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m a nobody. Someone who tried to become a god. A puppet that was thrown away because they were useless. One that makes mean and snarky comments. Why? Why do you want to be with someone like me?”
A surprised look crossed Sethos’s face.
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s because I like being with you.”
Scara’s eyes widened as Sethos continued.
“I was curious about your mysterious past and kept pestering you until you told me. When you did, I didn’t turn away disgusted or begin to hate you. All it did was make me want to be with you even more.”
Conflicting emotions and uncertainty ran through Wanderer's eyes before they were stopped by a hand on his cheek.
“You dare-” Scara started, making a move to swat Sethos’s hand away before Sethos started stroking his cheek with his thumb. He went quiet as he made eye contact with Sethos who had an endearing expression on his face.
“I'll take care of you.”
I'll take care of you.
A flicker of light is shown behind Wanderer’s eyes upon hearing those words. But as quick as it came, his eyes darkened with uncertainty.
“It's rotten work.”
“Not to me.”
Surprised, stormy eyes met determined, loving ones.
“Not if it's you.”
Those words were an arrow to his heart as tears from decades of sadness, anger, and hurt threatened to fall. The world seemed to blur around him as his senses were solely focused on the man in front of him.
“The things you mentioned are in the past. It's time for you to move on and not let them plague your mind.”
Sethos leaned closer, accidentally making Scara’s hat fall off his head. The latter could hardly care as he felt Sethos comb his fingers through his hair and his breath on his face. Not to mention the soft lips that were barely a millimeter from his own.
“You aren't useless, Scara.”
Sethos’s warm breath hit him in the face as he spoke.
“You aren't a nobody either. Since our first interaction with one another, I was obsessed with you. Your hat. Your past. Your attitude. But most importantly, what hid behind those stormy eyes of yours. And the more I got to learn about you, I began falling for you. I wanted you. I liked you. I love being with you. Your sassy attitude, you calling me a busy bee, I cherished those moments. In my eyes, you are the perfect being and you have a place in my heart. I will go to the ends of the world to fight with you. To be with you. To…love you.”
Sethos pushed forward, softly planting his lips on Wanderer’s. He melted into the kiss, kissing back with fervor as Sethos took the lead.
“Sethohh- mmm~”
Sethos smiled into Scara’s mouth, taking pride in making him fall apart. Taking it a step further, he licked his lips asking for entrance. When he met no resistance and instead Wanderer parted his lips, he dove right in.
“Se- mmph! Mmhmm~”
“Mmm~”
Sethos sucked his tongue, making him roll his eyes in ecstasy as he tangled his fingers in Sethos's hair. Sethos deepened the kiss, gently pushing his back to the ground.
“S- ahh! Mmm~ Aah! Mmphahh~”
“Mmochi~ Hah! Scaraah~ Mmm~ You have hah~ too many ngh~ na- aah~ names~”
They continued their make-out session, drowning in each other's embrace and letting out their feelings for one another.
They broke for breath after some time. Sethos towering over Wanderer with his arms on both sides of his head and the latter laying his head back on the grass looking up at Sethos. His face was flushed, complimenting the pink and orange hues of the sky and Scara couldn't help but reach out a hand towards his cheek, caressing him.
“Beautiful,” he breathed out.
A red tint started to spread to Sethos's ears and a shy smile started to form.
“M-Me?”
“snort. Yes, you.”
He wrapped his arms around Sethos, bringing him down to his chest.
“I hate how you make me feel so mushy inside."
There's no bite behind those words. Instead, love and affection.
“It's my job now, honey~”
“Argh, Sethos.”
“What? You call me a bee, I call you honey. Plus, you are so sweet-”
“I am not sweet.”
“Yes, you are. Especially your taste. Sweet like honey. No wonder I am a bee that is so attracted to you~”
Scara just groaned, his face flushed red. “Where did you even learn to kiss like that?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, that. Heh,” Sethos rubbed the back of his head, rolling off him and laying beside him.
“You know how they say the quiet ones are the interesting ones? I'm far from being quiet, but since being in the Temple of Silence, I tend to be alone in my thoughts a lot and my imagination runs wild. And when I first laid my eyes on you, I never stopped thinking what it would be like to kiss those lips of yours.”
Wanderer’s heart fluttered in his chest, knowing that Sethos was thinking of him from the first time they met.
“And how did it feel?” he asked, turning to him.
“We both know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
Sethos chuckled, facing him. “Alright, if you really want to hear it. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. The moment just felt right. When our lips touched, a pleasant tingling sensation traveled down my spine. Having your lips locked on mine, it just felt like we were meant to be together. Oh! Your moans. Don’t get me started on your moans. They were sweet as hon-”
“Okay, you are just teasing and trying to make me flustered.”
“Maybe~ Is it working?”
“Not even.”
“You sure about that? What's that reddening on your ears?”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Make me.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh, you are asking for it, annoying bee.”
“I'll like to see you- ack! Ahahaha! T-Tihihickling is cheheating!”
Scaramouche smirked, hearing his giggles as he tased his sides with ease. “Aw. Sucks to be you then~”
“Wahahait! Nohohoho fahahair!”
Scara draped himself over Sethos, lazily tracing random patterns from his shoulder blades to his neck to his chest and back again.
“Doesn't take much for me to make you giggle, little bee.”
“Hahahaha! Mohohochihi! Gehehet off mehehehe!” Sethos tried to roll around to no avail.
“Hmm, let me think about it,” Scara put on a fake thinking face for a few moments before he began to knead Sethos’s hips making him choke on a surprised laugh. “Nah.” A smug look crossed his face. “I want to do this all day~”
“GAhahaha! Nohohoho! You ahahare- NAHAHAHA! Nohot thahat SPOHOHOT!”
Sethos shrieked as his lover dug his fingers into his armpits causing him to clamp them down.
“You are losing, my love~” Wanderer teased, rubbing deep circles into his lover's armpits causing him to howl with laughter.
“AHAHAHA! HOHOHONEY! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”
“Oh really? Here, let me help. Tickle tickle tickle~”
“THAHAHAT’S NOHOHOT HEHELPING! YOU’RE MAHAHAKING IHIHIT WOHORSE!”
“How about this? Coochie coochie coo~”
“STAHAHAP TEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE! AHAHAHA!”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Scara said, playing dumb.
“YOHUHU LIAHAHAR! YOU- GAHAHAHA! NOHOHO!”
Sethos squealed as Scara used his thumb to massage his upper ribs.
“PLEheaSE ScahahARA!”
“Oh, my ticklish, little bee. Begging already? We are barely getting started~”
He decided to have a little mercy on Sethos, slowing down, so he could take a breather.
“Thahank youhuhu,” he giggled out.
“I’ll tell you what,” Scara started. “If you don’t laugh for 5 minutes straight, you win the challenge and get to tickle me to your heart’s content. If you lose, get ready to be tickled without mercy.”
“Pfft, 5 minutes. I can handle that. Challenge accepted!”
Wanderer inwardly grinned, his scheme working as he kissed Sethos with passion. Being caught off guard, Sethos quickly recovered, returning the kiss, unaware of the one hand that was inching closer and closer to his side until-
“MMPHAHAHA!”
Perfect.
“Noho! Youhuhu caught mehe off guahard!”
“I win~” Scara cheekily said. “Seems like that was your best… what a pity.”
“You planned that from the start!” Sethos pouted.
He stuck his tongue out towards Sethos. “Bleh, I win and that is all that matters. Come here and give me my prize.”
He lunged toward Sethos, leaving him no time to escape before he crawled his fingers under his clothes and attacked his tummy.
“I’ll geHEt yOUhu bahACK! AhAHAhAha!”
“Keep on dreaming little bee~”
After what felt like an eternity to Sethos of Wanderer skittering his fingers along his sensitive spots and teasing him to oblivion, his lover let up, lying right beside him.
“Mouchehe, you’re a ruhuthlehess tihickler.”
“Heh, that means that I’m still good at it or you are just too ticklish for your own good, or maybe both.”
“Scaraaa.”
They both fell into a peaceful silence as they stared up at the now starry sky, enjoying each other’s presence.
“Sethos?” Wanderer’s voice was soft when he spoke his name.
“Hmm?”
“Your words from before, I wanted to hear someone say those words to me for so long.”
“Which ones? You being sweet?” Sethos teased.
“Sethos,” Scara groaned. “I’m trying to be vulnerable here.”
“Hehe. Sorry sorry,” he chuckled, turning towards him and hugging him.
“I’m talking about when you told me you’d take care of me,” Scaramouche continued, snuggling into his embrace. “How it’s not rotten work to you and how you love me.”
He took a breath before continuing.
“It's all I ever wanted. Someone to say those words to me.”
A shooting star raced through the sky, lighting up his eyes. Sethos saw hope and a new spark of life in those mesmerizing eyes of his.
“I know I’m a bratty character and that’ll probably never go away, but I love you. I truly love you, even if I don’t show it at times. And…and I’ll go to the ends of the world for you too.”
Sethos could see the tips of his ears reddening and he inwardly grinned at how cute he was before going in for a quick peck on the cheek.
“Mochi, I love you so much. You are so freakin cute right now. But in all seriousness, I’m happy that you are in my life and I can’t wait to spend all of it with you. My sweet, honey love.”
“Archons, you are going to be the death of me you mushy bee.”
Sethos brought their lips together for a slow and soft kiss. Knocking their foreheads softly together, both of them stared into each other’s eyes, enjoying the moment before pulling away. Sethos was the first to stand up, grinning from ear to ear. Wanderer shook his head in amusement, picking up his hat and setting it atop his head before reaching out towards his lover’s outstretched hand. They started their way back into the city, hand in hand with fingers entwined.
My Honey.
My Bee.
More questions are in the Google Form if you want to provide more feedback. Plus, the question for a potential smut fic. Thank you again for reading and your time :)
Link to Google Form
529 notes · View notes
sukunasweetheart · 5 months ago
Text
kimi ni todoke inspired, but with a twist?? except sukuna is suuuuper into your whole scary/creepy vibes (strange fetish) this is more just rambling, not a proper fic sorry, its a little smutty, scratching and knifeplay involved (he's quite submissive), sukuna's a whole FRREAK
sukuna in college au, where he has a strange infatuation with the horror genre-- has a deep appreciation for scary films, and is a huge nerd in this area, and many of his favourite celebrities are actors and actresses that starred in one of his favourite films. his brother yuuji is also a huge cinema nerd but he's not as obsessed with horror as sukuna is. and frankly, yuuji thinks he's a slight weirdo for being able to analyse them in a very detailed manner, whether it's the jumpscares or how realistic a gore scene looks.
and now this horror nerd discovers someone very noteworthy in his area. there's this semi-famous haunted house that operates year-round nearby his university, which he decides to visit alone, out of boredom.
...the atmosphere is alright. the decoration could use some work. the bloody sheets don't look convincing enough. it's too pink and tacky. the "ghosts" give an effort to try and scare him, but he gives them a deadpan look.
"can you try any harder?" sukuna keeps walking.
next, a man dressed like a typical serial killer walks in holding a real chainsaw. oh, boy. the "killer" walks up real close to him, to his annoyance. he takes the chance to inspect the mask on his face. he flicks it lightly with a finger.
"shit's made out of plastic. do better."
the man revs up his chainsaw.
"ha - that's the spirit." he continues walking.
there's suddenly eerie silence, now that he's almost at the exit of the haunted house. what, did they run out of ideas?
he thinks he catches a glimpse of someone in the corner of his eye. sukuna stops and turns back, but there's no one in sight. that gets the hairs on the back of his neck rising, ever so slightly. he likes that.
he feigns ignorance and keeps heading to the exit, wanting something to jump out at him. he hears little footsteps behind him, this time. he whips around again, but there's nobody.
"you're edging me, are you?" he says sarcastically with a chuckle.
you're hiding in a little pocket area out of view, when you hear the man mention something about edging. great. another fucking weirdo. sometimes, you feel like you should just get a new job.
the third time, you actually reveal yourself and stand still in view when he turns around. the weirdo just stands there and grins at you. the fuck??
oh, sukuna loves this one. you look terrifying. like you came directly from a horror film set. you give him the creeps.
"look at you... a diamond in the rough."
the fuck is this man talking about? you want to tell him to just leave already. but he just continues observing you silently, like someone analysing an artifact. you move stiffly towards him, even while knowing that it probably wouldn't be enough to scare him off.
"your makeup looks too real... do you do that yourself?"
you glare at him. it's part of the script anyway. sukuna chuckles, because something tells him that the disdain in your eyes are real.
"i know, i know. i'll get going. any chance i could get your number before i go?" he asks boldly, hands in his pockets. it's a half-hearted attempt, but he felt the need to really try at least once.
he must be joking. what kind of perverted man sees a woman looking like this and asks for her number? well, he probably isn't being serious anyway. silence permeates the area as you backtrack away from him, deciding you've done enough for your pay's worth.
"running away? a shame..."
you feel odd. many men have seen you and ended up running out screaming. none has ever tried flirting with you while you were in this getup. what a weirdo.
sukuna walks out feeling better than expected. that last section really saved it. not a totally worthless experience. maybe he'll swing by again, just to see you.
except, he doesn't really need to. because the next day you bump into him at uni - and he recognises you instantly, like the freak he is. you try to brush him off casually, but he can't be shaken off so easily. and then sukuna pestering you wherever you hid around on campus became part of your schedule.
"what's your deal? why do you keep following me around?" you eye him suspiciously, when he sits down next to you on the bench, unprompted.
"well, i'm interested in you, for one," he says casually, shrugging.
"listen... if this is because you have some weird horror fetish, then i'm not interested..." you tell him truthfully, shuffling yourself away.
sukuna laughs out loudly in response, which makes you jump.
"i won't deny having unusual tastes, but my interest isn't that shallow. if it were the case, i could probably seduce any other girl and dress her up instead of chasing after you."
well, you guess he's correct about that. you've received a couple of stink eyes from a number of girls after being seen with sukuna so often.
he's an annoying guy - when you ask other peers about him, they tell you he's stoic, mean, and rude as fuck. well, you understand the last two a little bit, but stoic? every time he sees you, he seems like the opposite. he's rather loud and overbearing.
"i'm telling you - you have a talent. why not make use of it?"
he's referring to your future acting career, apparently.
"and i'm telling you - stop with the nonsense! i can't be fooling around with a silly idea like becoming an actor. seriously."
you only started working at the haunted house for some cash. you're not even that into the genre itself. what's with this guy?
"why would it be fooling around? at least give it a try before dismissing it."
this back and forth continues, for quite a while. he even forces you to watch his favourite horror films, "for future reference".
and then he proposes a deal to you. that you try and audition for a small role as a ghost in a film. he guarantees you'll get picked, even though you doubt it. and if you don't he promises he'll never bring the idea up to you again. you decide to go with it, just to shut him up.
but guess what? you're selected for the role.
sukuna shrugs at you with a smug smile on his face.
"see? i'm always right."
he pisses you off.
and he somehow pushes his way into becoming your personal "trainer". sukuna revises your script with you, and gives you feedback on your acting. he sits you down and watches classic horror flicks with you, analysing every scene down to every frame. many things happen the more you spend time with him..... you find yourself getting more and more attracted to this weirdo. this horror nerd.
"are you paying attention? this part is important."
the film gets paused, and you very swiftly, dart your eyes away from admiring his jawline.
"i'm trying... i just can't concentrate. i'm hungry," you lie fervently.
"hungry for what? me?" sukuna grabs your face and makes you turn your head towards him.
"...no? whatever gave you that idea?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest.
"how is it that an aspiring actor can't even lie properly? maybe we need to go back and revise some of your acting lessons."
you know that he's studying to become a film director, and honestly you feel sorry for the future actors that'll be working with him.
"whatever. let go of my face, you ass." you swat his hand away.
sukuna chuckles deeply at you, eyes softening.
"you're lucky that you're cute. how about i give you a kiss? will you concentrate better then?"
"yeah... wait, what-?"
too late though, he's already on your lips. and damn, he's a good kisser. anyways, that embarks the start of your relationship with him. shortly after, the filming process for the short film begins, and it becomes a decent success. you're a little ecstatic. maybe more than a little. you get the feeling that a whole new life is awaiting you.
and your boyfriend is so endlessly cocky about it. "all thanks to me," he says, which is technically correct, but you don't want to openly admit it in front of him sometimes.
and...
occasionally...you do dress up scarily before sex as well. at first, you were quite reluctant and awkward with roleplaying in bed, but after you got used to it, you found that it's hot as hell to see sukuna beneath you, squirming as you press a knife close to his throat, grinding your clothed cunt against his boner, dressed as a terrifying ghoul.
a safe word was established beforehand, of course, just in case either of you suddenly feel like backing out.
you want to keep yourself immersed into the role as much as possible, but it's difficult when sukuna's cock is so big, hitting all the right spots. this time, you're choking him with one hand as you ride him like he's a toy.
sukuna's hands are guiding your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh, his dick aching from the soft pressure you apply to his throat. you look so utterly scary, it turns him on. he'd let you kill him, if you wanted. he fucks into your cervix, looking up into your eyes with a blush on his face, groaning openly at the insane look in your eyes.
choke me harder. scratch me. bite me. he provokes you through his gaze.
you do grip his throat harder. and then you dig your fingernails into his chest, and scrape them down slowly, leaving a trail of red marks down him. sukuna shudders under you and curses under his breath.
"just like that... fuck, baby," he moans, cock throbbing inside of you. your walls squeeze him so good.
he cums the hardest he's ever cum in his life that night - thighs trembling and sweat rolling down his temples, and it doesn't help that you lean down to sink your teeth into the side of his neck while he orgasms.
aftercare consists of him cleaning you up and helping you de-costume. when he's wiping all that dark makeup off your face, he tells you that you're pretty with his soft voice, flustering you.
and of course, vanilla sex also occurs regularly, to get away from that freaky stuff sometimes, with the gentle kisses and tender hand holding, in a missionary position, exchanging sweet, sweet gazes with each other. giving you the princess treatment you deserve for being so good to him.
in the future, you run around and play bigger roles until one of your films become a huge hit, and sukuna finishes his degree to become a famous film director... no surprises there! the best horror actress + the best horror film director goes hard... the two of you are already married at this point.
when the both of you finally get together to make the ultimate film, the internet explodes... sukuna is surprisingly bad at being professional. he's seen often taking care of you rather affectionately around the filming area, personally making sure your makeup is done perfectly, and bringing you food and water as if he's bragging to everyone else about his marriage. and it shows in the way he sugar coats his critique for you, when he has never done that for any other actor/actress he's worked with previously.
if there are some snooty coworkers that try to speak with him about the gap in treatment, he would simply scoff at them and say 'and? she's my damn wife.'
when he's working with you, it's all like:
"cut! honey, that was great, but i think this part can be done a bit better."
but when it comes to other actors:
"cut! what the fuck was that? sounded like you were reading off the damn script. get your shit together."
he's notorious for being relentless, but nobody has anything to say because all of his films climbed to the top of the industry. everyone is dying to score a line or two in his films.
and i'd like to think that sukuna himself dabbles into acting a little as well. there's probably one film where he stars as the killer, and it becomes a classic :) but the one featuring you and him probably becomes both of your biggest hits ✨
oh, and on days where you two finish filming together, he takes you home with his own car, but before that, some freaky car sex probably occurs around some corner with his windows tinted... (he's been hot and bothered the whole time filming, watching you act)
the end <3
Masterlist
420 notes · View notes
ccrisntok · 25 days ago
Text
Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)
(Spoilers lol)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)
A basic summary of their relationship:
Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)
Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.
i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).
anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.
also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!
This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.
This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.
She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.
In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.
Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.
Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.
Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.
Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.
(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)
(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.
(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)
Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.
He doesn't take this conversation very well.
Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.
In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.
She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.
Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.
Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.
Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.
yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!
After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.
He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.
Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...
Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)
Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.
The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.
So they get to work!
Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.
Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.
He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...
Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.
A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)
The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.
After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.
Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.
Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.
Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.
After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.
At all.
Ace's heart wasn't beating.
He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.
(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)
(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)
So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee
This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)
After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.
Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.
Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.
As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.
Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?
Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.
In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).
I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!
holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.
291 notes · View notes
dokidokitsuna · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The Diary of Penny Polendina
The other day I was inspired to try working on a different NeverFell Projects installment, one that would probably be a lot shorter and quicker to write, because it's not like I care that deeply about Penny, right??
Well, I was incredibly wrong. ^^; So wrong that I'm actually having trouble with this story now...essentially, Penny goes through a bit of a 'rebellious phase' (gross oversimplification, but that's all you get for now) and there are, surprisingly, a lot of aspects of that character arc that I want to explore. Plus, a pivotal connection with Pyrrha, the climax of which I haven't quite figured out yet...
God only knows if I'll be able to finish, or if I'll just write the first 2/3rds of the story and leave it at that. But I figured I might as well warm up by talking about the designs. ^^
Penny's new look is basically 'Disney's Pinocchio, color picked from Arthur Watts' character design'~
I didn't necessarily want her to look evil, just...bolder. Like she specifically picked 'daring' items that maybe her father or Ironwood's PR team would rather she didn't wear, at least not compared to the more innocent frilly pastels she had on before. Between the chest window, midriff, and short sleeves, she's actually showing a lot more skin than before, despite still being 90% covered up. ^^;
Those multicolored wrist accessories are prototype weapons invented by Dr. Watts, that mix and pressurize Dust from the cartridges to cast "artificial magic". This way I get to do a bit of the 'Winter Maiden Penny' stuff in this Vol. 3-locked AU~
Penny's magic usage is one of the things that stumped me when writing this story...In NeverFell, magic isn't just glowy rainbow lasers or weather powers-- it essentially allows the user access to any conceivable semblance at any time; its potential is limitless. Being a beginner, Penny would probably just come up with one signature 'spell' to use in tandem with her Floating Array...but I can't decide what I want her to do. ^^; I think I'd like for her to do something connected to dance, because I feel like that's something unique to her, the way she dances with her weapons before striking. Nobody ever points out how the "robot" in the cast is the one who chooses to spend energy on unnecessary movements that aren't even used to maneuver around an enemy; they're just cute and fun. ^^ I think that's a great encapsulation of who Penny is~
Redesigning Pyrrha is always super difficult, because her original design is so perfect. But I like this end result a LOT. ^^ I may need to adjust the pant legs a bit, but overall it feels like a very believable alt outfit that keeps the spirit of the character.
Pyrrha is another one of the stumbling blocks in this story, because I'm now forced to create at least one malleable personality trait for her-- i.e. one that isn't intrinsically tied to Jaune and/or the plot. Something that she could actually take into a meaningful relationship with a different character... I had the idea to expand her "I'm sorry!" gag into a real guilt complex, where she has trouble letting go of instances where she's made mistakes or hurt someone. In this case, dismembering Penny 1.0 and essentially ending her life. :T She seeks out 2.0 in a desperate effort to make things right, and ends up helping her with ...things, and growing as people or whatever, and all that other stuff I have yet to write. ^^;
I just realized that Pyrrha could use her polarity semblance to pull Penny towards her in a situation where they need to reach each other...that's so cute. ^^ I gotta remember that~
448 notes · View notes
soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago
Text
I'm so sorry to everyone that I freaked out with the last post, I was trying so hard not to 😭 I have that like instant fear as soon as I see "we need to talk" or something in the same vein. I always think it's something bad.
This isn't bad, at least depending on how your perspective I guess.
So...I'm having thoughts about CRCB in October. I planned out posting schedules for Kyletober and CRCB and my Patreon stuff and it's going to basically be a post every day, sometimes multiple in multiple places.
That's a lot.
So, I am set on doing Kyletober since all of the fics are already written, but I was planning on continuing CRCB during October as well. But...I think I need a little break from CRCB. It's been about eight months of posting almost every single week and it's been a lot. I'm struggling with chapters right now and with work it's vastly limiting the time I have to write and focus on things and I'm kind of burning out right now.
So, what I wanted to discuss was potentially putting CRCB on hold for October while I focus on Kyletober and everything involved with that. Trying to do both is a lot and I'm not sure I can handle all of it, plus life, plus work.
I was planning on not necessarily putting CRCB on hold, but doing more of a "whenever I can/am inspired" random posting chapters kind of like I did in the beginning when I first started writing the fic, in November/December because those are very busy months and I will be dead tired from work and just general life.
I think I might still do that for November/December and possibly into the new year since there's no way the fic will be finished even if I posted every week until the end of December.
BUT
That's something I'll think about and make a decision on later.
Right now, my thought is...would you hate me if I put CRCB on pause in October? IF I do, I promise I won't end Chapter 39 on a cliffhanger. I wasn't planning on it anyway, but I promise I won't end it on a cliffhanger if I decide not to post any chapters in October.
That way if I do put it on pause, then I can not focus on it for a bit and give my brain a refresh, and I can also focus all my energy on Kyletober.
So yeah, it's going to be a lot doing both at the same time, and honestly I'm ready for a little break from CRCB. It's been going for a long time and it's a lot of words to get out in a week. I've been super stressed lately and I'm just struggling a lot trying to get through chapters.
So yeah. That's basically the dilemma here and the discussion to be had. I know y'all will tell me it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I would like opinions on it. Are y'all okay with me putting CRCB on hold to focus on Kyletober? Then pick it back up for probably just whenever I can chapter updates for the rest of the year? In January things will calm down and I'll have more time to relax and write and maybe get close to finishing the story. Plus I know a lot of my readers will be busy the next three months with the holidays and vacations and family and school and all of that, so you won't have to worry about getting behind and having to catch up with a bunch of chapters.
So...let me know...
219 notes · View notes
tritoch · 4 months ago
Note
Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.
Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.
I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!
The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.
And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.
For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?
There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:
A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."
Tumblr media
"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.
Tumblr media
(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)
But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.
In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.
Tumblr media
But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.
Tumblr media
In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.
To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.
I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.
360 notes · View notes
allyallyorange · 10 months ago
Text
Master Post for Ateez Adventure Time AU
Ok let's get into it! I'll be adding to this post whenever I post anything new for the AU! I'm going to try to organize everything so that it's in chronological order of the story! There are a few arcs I've got planned too so I'll try to make everything as clear as possible haha
(also I do my best but sometimes I confuse myself with exact ages of the characters and exactly like. what time of year things would take place, but think of it like any CN show we grew up with - time is seemingly an illusion if I don't think about it too much...)
Also!! Thank you so much to everyone who has said they enjoy my au!! you help me stay motivated! I'm having so much fun drawing this stuff ♡
Lineup for ref:
Tumblr media
Good to know points about the AU:
Universe A = main universe
**this au is inspired by Adventure Time. I'm not using main characters from AT, just using the general vibe of the show and some plot points and character points (ex: Vampires drink the colour red)
Universe Z = no magic universe
Ages at the beginning of the story (approximately):
Seonghwa - 1000 (physically 25)
Hongjoong - 2500 (physically 25)
Yunho - 24
Yeosang - 850/900 (physically 24)
San - a little over 100 (physically 23)
Mingi - a little more than 600 (physically 23)
Wooyoung - 23
Jongho - 22
**characters who are "immortal" age about 1 year over the course of 100 years (SH, HJ, YS). San and Mingi are not immortal but didn't age due to other circumstances (in hell time works differently, and MG was frozen for 600 years)
List of Spotify playlists if you're interested!
Misc doodles dumps that include things from pre/post/main story and idk where to put
Character lineup plus other doodles
Hongjoong and Mingi (they're bros)
Character lineup for final battle
Pre-Story (Universe A)
Seonghwa Logs
Pieces of the past
The star and his flower
Slipping through my fingers…
Hongjoong and Seonghwa meet
Big Brother and Little Brother
First Demon Prince Show
Glasses required
Sleepy brothers
Wooyoung summons a friend
Helpful Human
Yunho and San
Sleepy Heroes
No Ice Demons in the Workshop
Seonghwa + Yeosang, Hongjoong + Mingi profiles
Jongho + Yunho, San + Wooyoung profiles
Pre-Story (Universe Z)
2ho and Mingi playing video games
After School
Spider-Man 3
Cold Hands
Walkie Talkies and ice cream
Post Joyride with Jongho and Mingi
Wish You Loved Me
Hyung’s Glasses
Cousins
Motorcycle
Yunho The Human
2ho Universe Z to A
Main Story
Living in the forest
The Same
Jongho and Mingi doodle
Afraid of nothing, Afraid of everything
Yeosang meets team Woosanho
The story of The Beast (as told by Wooyoung)
Hongjoong meets Jongho
Team Hongjoong arguing as always
Almost tolerable
Don't kidnap people unless you're ready for friendship??
First meeting: Fire and Ice
First meeting: Yeo meets team Joong
Strawberry boys
Sharing mom
Upgrade!
Cold hugs
San and Mingi hug
Hero boys!
Hongjoong isn't scary. MG and YH becoming friends again?
Ouch! Hot
Wooyoung and San's room
Sleeping on the shed (Hongjoong and Seonghwa)
Seongjoong awkwardness
Yunho's photos
He wants to join...
Vintage shirt
Window visit
The Boy and The Beast
Jongho after the accident
Cool scars (Jongho)
Summer Boys!
Beach episode
Chill day
Big bro Little bro
Hey, Joong!
Post-Story (Yeosang arc)
Dimension hopping with friends (lineup)
Somewhere in another dimension...
Universe V
Evil Yeo doodle
Sorry Princess
Heart to Heart
Out of Time
Post-Story (Mingi arc)
The End of The Beast
Hugs
649 notes · View notes
corruptedcaps · 3 months ago
Text
Transfusion Confusion
The following story is inspired by a prompt from the great @misseviehyde
---
Tumblr media
Emma tossed in her hospital bed trying to sleep but she knew from weeks of being there that it would be futile. It wasn't the bed or the room itself, which was relatively nice for a hospital, that kept her from sleeping. No it was her long prolonged illness that gave her insomnia.
Emma had been in an out of hospitals since she was young. She had a rare condition that would strike at anytime. It wasn't life threatening but it made being a functional adult nearly impossible. She would spend weeks like this alone in the hospital getting her body pumped full of steroids and hormones to return her body to normality.
Her condition made having a social life basically impossible. As a result she didn't have any friends, had never had a boyfriend, and even her parents had ran off when she was four. It was a pretty pitiful existence but it was the only one she knew.
The door creaked open, and Rita, a kind and friendly nurse Emma had known for years, walked in, pushing a bed with a comatose woman on it. The woman, despite her unconscious state, was strikingly beautiful, her features sharp and flawless.
Emma sat up, confused. "What's going on?"
"I'm sorry to wake you Emma. We're running out of space, and I hope you don’t mind if we put Veronica in here for now. She’s been comatose for a while, so she won’t cause any trouble. If she ever wakes up, that's when the trouble would start." Rita said with a tired smile.
"Why? What's her deal?" Emma said looking at the blonde haired beauty.
"You never heard of Veronica Steele before? Well count yourself lucky. She's a real piece of work. A week after she married the richest guy in town, her new husband fell mysteriously to his death. Of course no one could prove it was her but she didn't make it secret she enjoyed inheriting everything he had." Rita said as she hooked Veronica's bed up to the sensors.
"So how'd she end up in a coma?" Emma asked intrigued.
"Oh she partied a little too hard and over dosed. She loved to let loose any chance she could and she did it often. She broke up so many good relationships. That's why everyone called her the homewrecking queen. Although I know some who called her the Whorewrecker." Rita said blunted. She looked over at a shocked Emma.
"I'm sorry Emma, it's been a long shift, I don't know what I'm saying. I'll just hook up her IV and I'll be out of your hair. She'll only be here temporary, I promise." Rita said going back to finishing up.
Emma sighed and lay back down, pulling the thin hospital blanket up to her chest as Rita moved around the room. She closed her eyes as the nurse placed Veronica’s bag in the closet beside her bed and began setting up the IV drip.
Rita, clearly exhausted, fumbled with the tubing for a moment. Without a second thought, she connected Veronica to the same IV bag Emma was already attached to, her tired mind too clouded to notice the mistake.
"There we go," Rita mumbled, stepping back with a satisfied nod before quietly leaving the room.
As the room settled into silence, a soft bubbling sound came from the IV bag. A strange pink liquid began to seep from Veronica's drip, mixing with the clear solution. Slowly, it flowed down the tube, snaking its way toward Emma’s arm, the liquid now entering her bloodstream unnoticed.
Tumblr media
As the minutes ticked by, Emma began to feel a strange sensation coursing through her body. What started as a faint warmth soon blossomed into a surge of energy, filling her veins with a vitality she had never felt. Her frail limbs, once thin and weak, began to fill out, muscles tightening and expanding beneath her skin.
Opening her eyes she watched in awe as her arms and legs transformed, growing stronger, more defined. The sensation was intoxicating, a rush of pure, exhilarating strength, but the best was yet to come.
Emma’s gaze dropped to her chest as a tingling sensation spread through her. Her boobs, once modest and unremarkable, began to swell, growing larger with each passing breath. She gasped as they expanded beyond anything she had ever seen on another woman, full and heavy, straining against her hospital gown.
Emma's eyes drifted to the IV connected to her arm. The pink liquid was pumping in rhythm into her body. She followed the tubing up to the bag and back over to the lifeless Veronica.
She noticed with shock that Veronica’s once voluptuous body had become gaunt and frail. Her once full tits had shrunk to barely noticeable proportions. The life force, the very essence of Veronica’s power, was being siphoned into her.
Instinctively, Emma reached to remove the IV, but just as her fingers touched the line, a seductive voice echoed in her mind saying "Don’t!"
The voice seemed at once comforting and commanding. Desirable and demanding. It continued.
"Veronica has no use for her beauty trapped in that coma. It would be such a waste to not use it, don't you think?" The voice purred in Emma’s mind.
Emma’s hand hovered over the IV, trembling. She knew she should take it out in hopes to reverse whatever was happening but she couldn't deny how increasing good she was feeling.
"She had her fun, isn't it time you had some of your own? Isn't it time you got to feel alive?" The voice continued. She tried to resist, tried to shake off the influence of the voice, but the logic it offered was undeniable. Why should Veronica have a perfect body when she was nothing more than a shell?
"After all the years of being weak and pathetic, haven't you earned this? Don't you deserve this?" The voice hissed pleasantly.
Despite herself, Emma felt her lips curl into a smirk, the seductive reasoning taking hold. The voice was right. She did deserve this. Why not take what was freely flowing into her veins?
Emma let out a slow breath and lay back down on the bed, sinking into the thin mattress, as the changes continued to ripple through her body. Her once dull and lifeless hair began to shimmer with health, growing longer, thicker, and cascading down her shoulders in luxurious waves.
Her lips, which had always been chapped and thin, plumped into a full, sensuous pout. Emma ran her tongue over them, feeling their newfound softness, a wicked smile tugging at the corners.
She held her hand out and watched as her nails, once brittle and short, lengthened and hardened into perfectly painted manicured talons. She ran her hands over her new tits with pleasure, giving them a joyful squeeze.
Her body was red hot with desire for her own form and she needed release. Pushing her hands further south, she slipped them under her hospital gown. Had she'd known how good long nails felt in her pussy she would have had them done every week.
She let out a moan of carnal delight as her fingers got soaked with her own juices. She watched in glee as her all blemishes on her skin started to erase. Her pale complexion began to tan, erasing the years spend inside under fluorescents.
As her body transformed, so too did her mind. Her sweet and caring nature, moulded by years of loneliness and illness, was getting corrupted. Where once she desired human connection now it sickened her. She didn't need anyone, not when she was superior to them.
She felt an overwhelming surge of narcissism, a belief that she was better than everyone else, more beautiful, more powerful. Her thoughts turned mean, dismissive of others. Vanity and arrogance took root, feeding off her new obvious beauty. The voice in her head was no longer an intruder. It was a reflection of her own desires.
"Yesssss! I feel so fucking alive!" She groaned as she continued to pump herself. She watched with an evil grin as the last of the pink liquid flowed into her body. She timed her climax to that moment perfectly and with one swift motion, she ripped the IV from her arm, feeling the rush of her transformation, her orgasm, and the last of Veronica's essence in one.
Emma swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, feeling the solid strength in her legs. She leaned over backwards, catching herself on the ground and flipping back onto her feet with ease. She wasn't just cured, she had evolved.
Each step toward Veronica was deliberate, confident. She stood over the frail, unconscious woman, a sneer curling her lips. Veronica had all the imperfections that once plagued Emma. Thinning weak hair, pockmarked skin, unathletic limbs, unremarkable beauty.
Emma turned to Veronica's closet and eagerly ripped it open. She began rifling through the expensive clothes and luxurious belongings. She pulled out designer dresses, delicate lingerie, and sparkling jewelry, tossing them onto the bed with a satisfied smirk. Each item felt like another piece of the life she was meant to have, now finally hers.
However she found the biggest prize inside a designer bag. Pulling out her wallet, Emma grinned at the plethora of credit cards just crying out to be used and abused. She took out Veronica's ID and stood in front of the mirror with it next to her.
Tumblr media
"Yes of course I'm Veronica Steele, how dare you question me. I'll have you fired for even speaking to me worm." She said with a natural bratty tone that she knew would have everyone convinced she was Veronica in no time.
However out of the corner of her eye she saw something unexpected. Veronica was stirring. The transfer must have some how knocked her out of her coma. However Emma was not about to give up a life she had barely tasted. Picking up the pillow from her bed, Emma walked calmly but coldly over to Veronica.
---
Rita was having her 7th coffee of her shift, fighting against her drooping eyelids when the code blue alarm started to go off for Emma's room. The shock of the alarm was like taking seven coffees at once.
Tumblr media
Rushing to the room she got in just time to see a blonde bombshell pulling the bedsheet over Veronica.
"I'm sorry nurse but the little urchin girl who was in here with me is gone. I think Emma was her name." Said the blonde, turning around with a face that conveyed no hint of sadness.
Despite her extreme transformation and the fact that she was in Veronica's designer clothes, Rita was not fooled by who the blonde was.
"Emma? What happened? You look…" Rita said before being cut off by Emma.
"Nurse Rita, you are delirious with exhaustion. I am Veronica Steele." Emma said, her voice smooth as silk but carrying a hint of menace.
"I don't know what has happened or what you have done to the real Veronica but it's ok we can fix this." Rita said bewildered but trying to get a grasp on the situation.
"Nurse you forget your place and you forget who you are talking to! I will buy this hospital and turn it into a landfill if you keep talking like this." Emma said, her ire palpaple. And yet Rita could not condone what was happening.
"No, this isn't right, I can't...." Rita said trailing off as Emma slowly approached her intimating her.
"Listen here you fucking cunt. You will report the unremarkable death of Emma Smith. You will also report on my miraculous recovery, Veronica Steele. If you don't I will see you hang for the death of that useless bag of bones laying over there. Understand?" Emma said with a whisper that was somehow more intense than her shouting.
Rita looked up at fear at the woman she had taken care of for years, seeing no part of her left.
"Y-yes... of course." Rita said trembling.
"Yes what?" Emma said starting to smirk.
"Y-yes... Ms. Steele." Rita replied. Emma satisfied and more than a little bit aroused at hearing her new name, stood back from Rita in triumphant.
"Good. Now go order me a fucking car." Emma said, turning her smirk into a cold pout. Rita quickly scurried out of the room.
Emma walked over to the closet and picked up the bag that contained the begins of her new life. She stepped over to the door and took one last look where the real Veronica lay.
"I wish I could say I was sorry, but that wouldn't be very Veronica of me." She said with a cackle as she left the room.
Tumblr media
THE END
166 notes · View notes
tlbodine · 1 year ago
Text
Stuck? Try junebugging.
I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.
Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?
If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!
What Is Junebugging?
Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.
The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.
How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?
OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:
Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.
Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.
I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.
I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.
Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.
This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.
It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.
Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.
977 notes · View notes
winterzsurprise · 1 year ago
Text
Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara
Tumblr media
Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader
Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.
Words: 1.7k
Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)
This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD
forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".
hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love
Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.
You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.
But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.
Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.
Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.
"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."
So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.
The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.
"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"
"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."
Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."
"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."
"And you're here because you're also concerned?"
You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”
Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.
His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 
You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.
He's criminally dashing.
After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.
How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?
Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”
“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”
Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.
“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.”
You grinned. "That's all I need."
He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.
His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.
Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.
"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"
"You know it'll last longer than thirty."
"I doubt that."
His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.
"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"
"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."
His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.
Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.
"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"
"Shut up and just touch me, please."
He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."
He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.
It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.
Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.
But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.
Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."
His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.
Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.
He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.
"You didn't squirt? What a shame."
"F-fuck you."
"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."
Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.
"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."
Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.
His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.
The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.
You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 
"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"
"Yes yes yes…!"
One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"
You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.
"No-not too much. It'll show."
Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"
"T-they'll find out."
He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."
Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.
"That's it. Give it to me."
Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 
"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."
You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."
Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.
With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.
Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."
Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.
"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"
3K notes · View notes
hannieehaee · 11 months ago
Note
hi! i wanted to request seungcheol x reader based off of ‘how you get the girl’ by taylor swift? thank you!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: inspired by 'how you get the girl' by taylor swift, angsty, fight between reader and cheol implied, fluff ending, etc.
wc: 738
a/n: ive never rlly listened to taylor before so im sorry if i took the lyrics out of context i tried to research the meaning of the song but i wasnt 100% sure T-T anyways tysm for requesting sorry i took so long <3
masterlist
seungcheol knew he had royally fucked up.
the details didn't matter now. it had been a while now – six months to be exact – and he still couldnt get over you. he'd see you around town occasionally, and you'd look perfectly fine. how could you be fine when he was so empty without you in his life? were you really better off without him?
he tried to move on, he really did, but no one was like you. the type of love you had was the type he wanted to be his endgame. there was no question about it. which was why he needed to fix his this.
it started with attempts to be in the same spaces as you again. he would find out where you'd be from mutual friends (okay, a little stalkerish, but it was fine!) and make sure to be in attendance to any party you'd go to. lucky for him, you were best friends with his good friends soonyoung and vernon, which gave him the perfect opening to approach you every time. at first you'd look peeved off by his presence, but after a few times you seemed to warm up to him, even laughing at his jokes sometimes. after a few weeks of intruding your friend hangouts, it was as if he'd always been there.
the day finally came in which you'd been left alone together at a party, with both soonyoung and vernon leaving one by one. it was getting late, so seungcheol offered to walk you home, which you surprisingly accepted with a polite smile. you talked like old friends on your way back, never once making any mention of the relationship you used to have. that made cheol both sad and relieved. it was good you weren't hurt by it anymore, but did this mean you were now looking for a mere friendship out of him? he had tried to bring back the old dynamics between the two of you. he had even been as physically affectionate as your newly-developed friendship would allow, but it seemed like that wasnt what you were looking for. seungcheol couldnt help but carry the disappointment in his face as the two of you arrived to your home.
"cheol? what's wrong?", you asked as soon as you caught sight of his face.
"hmm? oh, nothing. im fine. i, uh, goodnight. thanks for letting me walk you."
before he could even turn around, you pulled at his arm to grab his attention.
"cheol, what is it?"
he hesitated in speaking up again. he knew himself to be an outspoken man to a fault. and how was be expected to hold back when you looked so pretty under the moonlight and were even showing concern for him?
"i love you,"
fuck. that's not how he meant to start. and that was clearly not what you had expected him to say, judging by the shocked expression on your face.
"what?"
"im still in love with you, i- i know i fucked up, and i know i waited too long, but ... seeing you move on in life without me made me lose my mind. i know i shouldve apologized earlier. and i cant even blame you for breaking up with me, i ... i was a shitty boyfriend. i didnt treat you how you deserved. but i'll be better now, i promise! just give me one more chance. ill give you everything i shouldve back then and more. i know it's been six months, but ive been losing my mind without you. i know we could make this work. please?"
he knew he mustve looked crazy as he rambled his sudden love confession to you, but he still hoped that you'd maybe take pity on him and take him back. however, after a full minute of silence from you as you didn't meet his eyes, he knew that luck probably wouldnt be smiling at him today.
he turned to leave without a word until you unexpectedly stopped him again.
"wait, cheol," you seemed kind of shy about your movements, but still offered him a smile.
"come in? do you ... will you stay the night? please?"
your shy smile was met with his bright one as his arms warmly wrapped around yours, kissing your cheeks over and over as he used to once upon a time, walking the two of you into the apartment he was once oh so familiar with.
596 notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 1 year ago
Note
oooh Slytherin!hyunjin gives amortentia to reader after she rejects him so many timesss and after the effect gone she found out and mad oooh angst angst idk happy ending hahahahhahahaa (sorry for my bad grammar)
So this ask got me super excited!!! I love writing fantasy so count me in, babes! Please ignore any mistakes since I stopped reading Harry Potter in the forth book and just settled for the movies lmao
Here are some spells used in the story that may be confusing for my sweeties that are not into harry potter:
¹Amortentia: it's the most powerful love potion, it can't reproduce real love and it comes with dangerous side effects like a powerful infatuation or obsession. It smells differently to each person, like the things(or people) the person who's feeling the scent likes.
²Cruciatus: a spell(curse) used to torture people.
I'm using this post to celebrate reaching 200 followers 🥳, thank you for those who like what I write and keep supporting me, I'll keep working hard to bring more nice stories for you!!
I wish you would
Pairing: Slytherin!Hyunjin x fem!reader
Genre: angst, fluff
Warnings: cursing
Word count: 5,120(I'm sorry about that not really I just got very inspired)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hyunjin is obsessed with you, everyone with eyes and ears knows that. He runs after you like a dog runs after its tail and you always try being nice, try rejecting him in a way to not hurt him but he doesn't seem to take a hint.
Your class just ended, you collect your books and walk to the corridor, feeling his eyes on you.
"What's it?" You ask, turning around to look at him. His green and black uniform matching perfectly with his blond hair. He seems taken aback with the sudden attention, since he's used to you ignoring him.
"I just wanted to give you this", he smiles, holding a paper bag to you, "Felix made brownies and I just thought you'd like a snack, I know you're studying a lot for exams"
You smile, you love brownies but you're not sure if you should accept it. It's been a day since you rejected Hyunjin… again. He doesn't seem bothered by it anymore, he just keeps coming on strong and at this point you already know it's just a trait of his personality to not give up easily. But it would seem inconsiderate to not accept, since he brought it just for you.
"Don't think too much", he shake the bag a little, "I'm just trying to look out for you"
You sigh, accepting the gift and thanking him. It's not going to kill you to be nice this one time.
After saying goodbye you head to the library, you're going to meet Seungmin to study. Your classes are not that difficult this semester, so you're just using your extra time to study for the bigger exams.
It's already past dinner time when you finish your studies, your friend gave up a few hours back and went to the dorms while you stayed to study a bit more.
You're hungry so you look at the paper bag Hyunjin gave you and look inside. The brownies have a nice scent of mint? Maybe Felix added some to the recipe.
One it's not enough, it's so good you end up eating the whole lot. Maybe you shouldn't have, you feel sick instantly after finishing it and the librarian comes running as soon as she looks at your face.
"Are you alright, darling? You look pale", she asks and you nod, maybe the exhaustion is finally hitting you.
You grab your things and walk towards the dormitories of your house, you feel your mouth dry and an empty feeling on your chest. What's going on? You look around, there's very little people in the hall since it's almost curfew time.
When you're crossing the courtyard, you see a shadow of someone hovering over and you stop in your tracks trying to discern who it is.
You tighten the hold on your wand while they get closer, only to breathe relieved seeing it's just Hyunjin.
"It's already late, you shouldn't be wandering around by yourself", he says.
"Oh, I-", you feel your cheeks warm suddenly, do you have a fever? Your hands are sweating too. "Can you help me?" You ask him, stretching your hand for him to hold, your heart beating fast to the thought of touching him. "I'm not feeling very well"
"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, surprised, but still takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm with a hand and sliding his other to your waist, giving you support by embracing you entirely.
"Thanks, I don't know what came on to me", you mumble and you're not sure if he heard, until you feel him tightening the hold he has on you.
"It's okay, it's my pleasure", he whispers close to your ear and you shiver.
It's strange for you to have this kind of reaction, especially to Hyunjin. It's not that you don't like him perse, you just don't think about dating in general. You want to focus on your studies, do well on your exams and have a good career, it's your parents dream that became your dream.
His pursuit over you got boring after the fourth time you rejected him. It was fun in the beginning, he's Hwang Hyunjin after all: handsome, smart and rich, you felt special when he didn't care about all those people that would crawl after him, but would beg for just a single glance of yours. With time it started bothering you, though. It seemed like the more you rejected him, the more interested he would get.
Why did it bother you, though? It feels nice having him holding you right now, he smells like mint, his warmth is shielding you from the cold air and you think it's okay to have him by your side just for a moment.
You can't stop thinking about him, Hyunjin is the first thing in your mind when you open your eyes in the morning and the whole breakfast you spend looking for him around the great hall, thinking about what he'd like to eat and maybe if he would like to walk with you to your classes.
"Are you alright?" Seungmin's voice takes you out of your thoughts, you realize you're just staring at your food for some time now.
"Nothing", you smile slightly, "I just… do you know where Hyunjin is?"
Seungmin frowns, tilting his head to the side while analyzing you.
"Why would I know that? But most importantly, why do you want to know that?"
You sigh, going back to play with your food.
"I just miss him", you mumble, earning a gasp from your friend.
"Did you finally lose it?" He's staring at you with narrowed eyes, disgusted.
You sigh, looking around one more time and finally seeing Hyunjin entering the hall, he's talking to a girl. Who is she? Why is she smiling so much to him? Why is he smiling back at her?
Your body moves by itself, getting up and walking with heavy steps towards the entrance where Hyunjin is talking to that girl, he seems excited.
You don't like it.
"Excuse me?" You say, waiting for him to turn around. You have your arms crossed in front of your chest and a foot tapping impatiently on the floor.
He looks at you with a smile that almost makes you melt, almost. You get even angrier, did he smile like that to her too?
"Oh, y/n, what can I do for you?"
"Who is she?" You ask without even thinking, why does that matter?
"We have divination together", he answers simply, just like that, as if that was a good enough answer. He frowns in confusion when you don't say anything and keep just staring at him. "Hm, we were just talking about some crazy prophecy Trelawney came up with in the middle of our class yesterday", he finishes, hoping you're satisfied with his answer.
You take your eyes out of him, looking at the girl and lifting one eyebrow, she smiles sheepishly at you and say goodbye to Hyunjin, walking to her house's table.
"Why did you take so long?" You step closer to him, grabbing his hand and holding it with yours.
"I didn't know you were waiting", he answers, leaning closer to you with a smirk in his lips.
"Well, I'll be waiting from now on so you better get here quickly"
You turn around, facing the tables. People are staring and whispering, of course, you never gave the time of day to him, it's something unpredictable to see you being cozy.
You slide his arms over your shoulder, a message to every other person that he's yours now. You're not sure where this possessiveness is coming from but it's there and you have to make it clear.
Hyunjin didn't think the potion would actually work, he's not that good at potions. He's been trying to catch your attention for a very long time but you rejected him over and over. He could have anyone he wanted, just not you and that made him crazy in the beginning, he just wanted you more and more, he's very ambitious after all.
However, after some time, he realized his feelings were deeper than what you thought, even more than he thought.
He started noticing every little thing about you, how you frown when you concentrate too hard, how you make every little feeling of yours show in your face. How you always have to be right.
And how you didn't want anything to do with him.
He was in love with you. That made him desperate, he needed you and you kept turning him down.
So he took drastic measures, he's not sure it's the most ethical thing to do, but he's unquestionably cunning, so he would do anything to achieve his goal.
A week before he gave you the brownies, your potion's class learned how to brew amortentia and he knew he had to give it a try. He spent nights awake trying to make the perfect potion, strong enough for it to work instantly and last long enough for you to not fall out of love easily.
"Are you really going to use a love potion?" Felix asks while watching Hyunjin mix the liquid with the brownies batter.
"I need to", he answers.
"She's going to be pissed if she finds out, you know that, right?" Felix tries again, it's not easy to make Hyunjin give up when he sets his mind to something.
"At least she'll be looking at me", his answer takes Felix by surprise, he knows Hyunjin is in love with you but maybe he can't grasp the depth of his feelings.
Hyunjin decides to wait, he'll try one more time before using the charmed brownies. He sees you in the courtyard, reading. You look beautiful with your hair messed by the wind and your lips moving, pronouncing the words in the book.
"So", he starts, he always tries to be confident around you, even though every time you turn him down his self esteem takes a blow. "When are we going on that date?", he asks, sitting by your side and watching you lift your eyes out of the book to look at him.
"Hm, I don't know about that", you smile kindly. He thinks you're cute being so considerate and trying not to hurt his feelings. Maybe if you weren't so nice to him, he'd already have gotten over you.
"What do I have to do for your answer to be yes?" He asks, bending his upper body to look at your face since you're looking at the book on your lap now.
"Let's not, Hyunjin", you sigh, "you know it's always going to be no"
He swallows hard, he did wish you were harsher in your rejection but he didn't think it would hurt so much.
"I'm not going to give up", he gets up, winking at you, he's too proud to show how hurt he is. "I know you don't dislike me, so that's a win for me", he smiles at you, even though he feels like he's suffocating.
He knows your personality, if you hated the idea of him hitting on you so much, you would already have threatened to crucio him but you don't and it's not because you're too polite for that, he has seen you fight people for much less.
He goes back to the Slytherin's common room and sits in front of the fireplace. It's getting cold lately, you shouldn't stay outside so much and for so long.
He just wants you to look at him, he's sure if you just get to know him better you'll want to be with him, he'll make sure of it.
So he gives you the brownies even though he feels a bit guilty about it, it's to late to back down when he sees you already turning around the corner, heading to the library.
He's restless, not sure when you're going to eat the brownies or if you are going to actually do it, he tries playing a bit of quidditch with his friends and studying but he's too anxious to concentrate on anything other than you. So he stays close to the library, waiting for you to finish your things.
As soon as you walk by the courtyard he can tell you're sick, so he gets closer and helps you get to your common room. Did you actually ask for his help? That sounds like a dream to him, just the thought of being next to you is enough to make him the happiest person alive, feeling your warmth against his body was enough to make him melt. If you didn't need his support, he'd be laying on the floor.
After giving him a peek on the cheek and leaving him behind in the great hall, after breakfast he can feel a burning gaze and he knows exactly who it is from. Seungmin, your best friend.
You might be enchanted but he's not, and if Hyunjin doesn't give you more of the love potion, Seungmin is going to make you fall out of love, he's sure of it.
He brews more of the potion, putting it on another batch of brownies to give to you. And you love the gift, eating all of it while studying with Hyunjin in the library. You're not studying much actually, you're just looking at him and asking questions about him, what he likes to do, about his family and his friends. It's an entirely new world to have all your attention to himself, he loves it, loves to spend time with you. The longer he stays in your presence the more he's sure that he does love you, all of you.
You're feeling tired lately, you lost all the deadlines to your projects in the last two weeks and now you're having to pull all nighters to try and get them all ready before the end of the semester. You have been spending a lot of time with Hyunjin, all the time you're not in class revolves around him.
He has been giving you lots of brownies lately and you're actually getting sick of it but you don't want to be a killjoy and end up accepting it anyway, eating it when you're bored.
This was the last time you accepted it though, you're going to say that you don't want it from now on and maybe Seungmin can help you eat these ones. Your best friend is at the library, waiting for you. He's going to help you finish some details of your project.
"I brought this for you", you shake the paper bag, holding it out for him.
He opens it and looks inside.
"Why does it smells like wood?" He scowls.
"What are you talking about?" You laugh awkwardly, "it smells like mint"
He stares at you for a few seconds before gasping, his hand palming his mouth.
"That's what's wrong with you!" He gets up, throwing the paper bag in the trash and ignoring your 'hey!' in protest. "Did Hyunjin give this to you?" He asks.
"Yes, why?"
"For how long have you been eating these brownies? Did they smell like that since the first time?" He ignores your questions, he looks absolutely out of it.
"Yeah, he gave me the first one's like two weeks ago", you frown, trying to understand what he's trying to say.
"He's been giving you amortentia", he tells you, running his hand through his hair, "how did I not realize that sooner, you've been acting weird for a reason!"
You feel your heart sink, he's been doing what?
That's not possible, he would never do something like that. Right?
You gasp, looking back to the way you have been acting lately, did he really charm you? So none of the things you're feeling are really real?
You managed to stay away from him for so long and suddenly you couldn't think about anything but him, the reason was right under your nose, you can't believe you didn't notice the signs.
"How much time does it take for it to wear out?" You ask, not really remembering what the professor taught you.
"A few hours minimum, a day or two if it's strong enough", Seungmin answers, whatching you seat and look at your fingers. Your chest hurts.
"Can I stay with you tonight? The last batch he gave me was yesterday, I may be fine tomorrow morning", you want to cry, Seungmin recognizes that face. You're looking around trying to prevent the tears from falling and he wants to kill Hyunjin for that.
Seungmin has been your best friend since first year, he didn't think he would have so much in common with someone from your house, but you two just clicked. He knows you like Hyunjin but you're too focused on your future to actually see that. Every time he makes a move on you, you'll turn him down, but your friend can see your eyes lingering on his figure while he walks away, you keep looking until he disappears and then you sigh. Sometimes Seungmin even sees you giggling from something Hyunjin says and your eyes shine brighter in those moments, he's not sure how you didn't realize it yet.
After the hurt eases a bit, you start getting mad. You wake up in the morning and all you can think about is a way to murder Hwang Hyunjin. You can't believe he used you like that, like a fucking toy for him to play house with.
You see him in the corridor, he smiles looking at you and opens his arms, waiting for a hug with a big smile on his face. Disgusting, that's all you can think.
"My love"
You walk confidently to him, taking him by surprise by hitting him in the face with a mixture of punch and slap, doing the movement of a slap but hitting him with your closed fist. He bends down, touching his cheek and looking at you, betrayal in his eyes.
"You fucking asshole!" You're seeing red, you didn't think you'd feel so livid seeing him, you're so hurt, so angry.
"Babe?" He looks at you like you're the one in the wrong.
"Don't", you take a deep breath, looking around to try and ease your anger, "don't call me that. You used a fucking love potion on me? What kind of loser does that?"
He gasps, he didn't think you'd find out about it, not so soon. He was sure he could make you fall in love with him and later on he would tell you about what he did.
Hyunjin could have anyone, there are dozens of people falling on their knees for him, you just can't understand why it has to be you.
"Let me explain, yeah?" He tries, taking a step closer and trying to hold your hands but you step back, glaring even harder at him.
"Don't touch me" you say, gritting your teeth, "you're disgusting"
You turn around, seeing the amount of people looking at your fight with shocked expressions in their faces. Of course no one's going to believe he gave you a love potion, he doesn't need that, he's Hwang Hyunjin.
That makes you even angrier.
You walk fast away from there, you can't believe you have to go through this kind of thing and the worst part is, why does it hurt so much? The effects of the potion must have ended by now, then why do you feel like you can't breath? The tears run out of your eyes without your permission and the hiccups come naturally with the painful cries.
You feel tired, frustrated, overwhelmed but most of all you feel heartbroken. There's no more potion tempering with your feelings but you still feel a lot of different emotions you shouldn't be feeling. It's not possible that you really like him.
The right reaction is for you to curse him, feel mad about all he's done and hate him with all your being. But you're feeling hurt and you want to curse at him, obviously you're angry about what he's done, but you're worried about him too, maybe you were too harsh.
No.
You'll not let any feelings you have let him get away with manipulating you. If you really do like him you're just going to have to stop.
Hyunjin can't eat, can't sleep, can't study, in other words, he can't function properly. You don't speak to him, you don't look at him, you don't even aknowledge his existence.
You don't eat when he's in the great hall, you will sit in the fartest seat from him when you're in the same class and everytime he tries talking to you, your personal bodyguard, Seungmin, prevents him from doing it.
He can't live like this, Hyunjin feels like he's about to die at any moment and he just doesn't know what to do.
Felix is too nice to actually say it but he looks at Hyunjin with that 'I told you so' look and just watches again as his friend sits in his bed and spends minutes staring at nothing.
"Was it that bad?" He asks but he already knows the answer. The whole school is in uproar after you punched him in the middle of the corridor before classes started, so to say everyone knows about what happened it's an understatement.
"She's not even looking at me", Hyunjin says finally and Felix sighs, sitting by his side and patting his back.
"I think you should give her some time", Hyunjin scowls after hearing that, even though he knows his friend is probably right.
It hurts so much, even more than when you just ignored him. Because now that he felt your warmth, he can't live without it.
Since Seungmin met you, this is the first time he has to worry about you. Even when you pulled all-nighters studying or joined too many extracurricular activities, you always took care of yourself. This time though, you're not.
Your grades are back to normal and your projects are all ready a week before the deadline but at what cost? You are not sleeping properly, there are huge eyebags under your eyes and you lost weight, your hair is always a mess and your clothes are far from your usual tidy style. He knows you realized your feelings for Hyunjin and you're just trying to bury them without actually trying to understand them and he just doesn't know what to do to help you. Every time he tries talking about it, you'll brush it aside and tell him you're not in the mood for that.
The winter holidays come to you like a gift and a curse, you don't have lots of work to take care of so you can rest but you don't have lots of work to take care of so you don't have anything to distract yourself from your wandering thoughts, those ones that always end up on the same person.
You never thought it would be so hard to get over someone, in some way your brain probably knew that the moment you let someone walk past your walls it wouldn't be easy to undo the damage made. That's why you always run from Hyunjin, because it would be torturous to stay away from him after you let your feelings be known.
As the weeks go by, your anger subside a bit. You still can't forgive what he did but you miss him too much to still be mad. You were pretty confident in the first few weeks, concentrating all your energy in your classes and projects, trying to forget about him. However, the more time passed, the more you thought you actually liked him… way before the amortentia happened.
You two met each other in your first year, but you were children that didn't care about the opposite sex and it went like that till fifth year, when you two turned fifthteen and puberty just hit him like a truck over summer break. He came back taller, his voice changed a bit too and his facial expressions as a whole were sharper, more eye-catching than ever.
It wasn't different for Hyunjin, however you always caught his eye. When he was younger he thought you were cute for a girl and he has never been easy to impress. When you grew up you became so pretty he couldn't take his eyes out of you. That was the first time he ever asked someone out and the first time he was rejected, it really hurt his pride. And now, finishing your seventh year, it's the first time you're realizing that maybe he fell first but you fell harder.
The classes come back in the blink of an eye, you're not sure you're happy or sad about it since you don't know what to do with the whole Hyunjin situation.
It all gets worse when you see him in the corridor, he's looking around, fidgeting and you just know he's waiting for you.
You try walking past him, but he lifts his eyes as if he felt your presence and you see the corner of his mouth going downwards and his lips quivering.
"Can- can we talk?" He pleads, his voice shaking, it's too much for him to finally see you again, finally have you looking at him again.
You look down, trying to decide what to do and end up nodding, turning around and leading him to an empty classroom. He closes the door and watches as you wander around the class, brushing your fingers on the table's surface, avoiding looking at him.
"How are you?" He asks finally, after a few minutes of torturous, awkward silence.
"Just fine", you answer, looking at every piece of the room but not at him. You're afraid that if you look him in the eyes you're going to cave in and you just can't give in so easily.
"I'm having a really hard time", he tells you.
"Didn't ask", you stop in your tracks, annoyed with yourself because it hurts to be mean to him. "Let's get this over with", you manage to say, even though the ache in your chest is making it difficult to breathe.
He sighs, running his hands through his hair.
"I- I'm really sorry about what I did, y/n, can you please forgive me?" He begs and you finally turn around, trying to keep your cool, the anger is coming again and you feel your face hot.
"Are you asking me to forgive you for tampering with my feelings? Or for pulling this shit just because you're obsessed with something you can't have?"
He frowns, it's not like that, he knows that but clearly you don't.
"Y/N, I have wanted you all the same since the beginning. I can't have anyone else, not because I'm obsessed but because I'm in love with you", he takes a step towards you, "you make me feel alive, that's why I keep trying over and over again"
You're taken aback by the confession, so shocked you don't even notice how close he got to you in a few moments but you can't let him get away from this, not when your pride is involved.
"Do you think it's fair to make someone like you just because you like them? Would you ever have told me about what you did or would you keep me like a fucking toy until you were tired of playing with me?"
He stares at you for a moment, a desperate look on his face. He wasn't trying to hurt you. He was selfish, he knows that and you have the right to not want anything to do with him anymore, but he has to try earning you back.
"I know I shouldn't have gave you a love potion, I know it's wrong and I did know you wouldn't like having your feelings messed with", he takes one of your hands and puts it in his chest, right above his heart and for the first time since you found out about what he did, you don't want to pull your hand away from his touch. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just wanted to make you really look at me and see it was worth giving me a chance", he smiles sadly, "you are right to hate me after what I did but if you do forgive me I swear that I'll make up for it every day of our lives and I'll make you happier than you ever thought could be possible. It's going to be my goal, my mission, the biggest of my ambitions"
You sigh, it hurts. Logically, you shouldn't forgive him. But love is not logical and you want to accept his proposal. You know it's dumb and you know it's risky but never in your life did you really make a choice that you wanted to. You had to be a good student so your teachers would like you, you had to behave so your family would be proud of you, you had to have good grades so your parents would be satisfied, because they told you you needed to have the greatest career and that became your dream, but you never stopped to think about what you really wanted.
"If you didn't use the potion, would you keep trying to win me over?" You whisper, trying to decide what answer to give him.
"Yes, probably forever. Until you threatened to kill me or married someone else", he smiles, "not going to assure you I wouldn't try stealing you from your partner, but that would hold me back a little", he chuckles.
You sigh, why must you like him so much?
"I swear I'll make you regret it if you ever use any magic on me again", you say through gritted teeth, glaring at him, "and I like the thing you said about making up for it our whole lives"
A big smile grows on his lips and you feel your cheeks getting hot, how can someone be this beautiful?
"Then, will you give me another chance?" He asks in a breath.
"I'll let you take me on a date and I'll decide after that"
He smiles widely, throwing his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.
"I'll make it be a yes", he whispers, squeezing you more in his embrace.
You know you'll forgive him completely soon, Hyunjin can't hide his emotions from you so you know he's telling the truth but you sure as hell are not going to make it easy for him.
461 notes · View notes