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more-stuff-of-pi · 4 years ago

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I’ll Fight For You

a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks

notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018

Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.

“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”

He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”

“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.

“I’m just… worried, is all.”

You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”

He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”

It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”

“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”

“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.

“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.

You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

❁

You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.

Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.

As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.

“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”

You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”

Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”

“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.

Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard--”

You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”

The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”

“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”

Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.

Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.

Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”

Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.

“Effort--”

“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”

“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”

It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.

Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”

“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”

Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.

“What?” She spat.

“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”

Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”

“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”

He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”

Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.

“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.

“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”

He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”

“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.

taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie, @gigglyparker (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)

#i'll fight for you #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #hurt/comfort #abusive mother tw #tw abusive mother #mha x reader #bro this fic lowkey fvcking sucks lmao so sorry that this is the first thing you see from me in a while #like it just feels really rushed which it probably is but it's incredibly self-indulgent and it fulfills my purposes so it's good enough #for me that is

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sneverussape · 4 years ago

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snape fic recs - old magic/epic worldbuilding

related to this post. i decided to dig through my bookmarks and wrack my brain for some of the fics i remember reading that scratched this particular itch. this will have fics that had the characters practice old magic and are more focused on the adults/hogwarts staff rather than the kids, or if the kids would be mentioned they would not be the main povs. these will be multi-chaptered, often long (and obviously au), and some of them have pairings. please heed the tags and warnings that the individual authors would have left; what you consume is your own responsibility. the fics are also listed in no particular order:

In His Name by moira of the mountain - After the Final Battle, a fallen Snape is hidden, bearing Tom Riddle's last Unforgivable. There are three Secret Keepers and a Muggle healer to protect him, but will it be love - or an obligation - which finally frees him? - no pairings // kinda brotp between mcgonagall, snape, and hagrid // also unfinished so fair warning. the lore is so rich though, it feels like how magic in hp should have been.

Death’s Dominion by MMADfan - Severus Snape’s life was changed when he was hit by an errant spell, and he comes to a decision that defies Dumbledore’s wishes. Even the fate of the wizarding world is altered by this ill-cast curse and Snape’s subsequent resolve.Long after the spell has dissipated, its effects continue echoing in the lives of Severus, Albus, Minerva, and Hermione, and they bring with them a shadowy figure whom Snape does not trust and whose motivations and influence on Minerva are murky. Not all is as it seems, and conspiracies and schemes swirl around Severus as he continues on his path of deception to his final confrontation with the Dark Lord. A “Light” fic of love, loyalty, and redemption. - mm/ad, ss/hg // this fic. is LEGENDARY. this is one of those fics that require your full attention and will eventually suck you in and spit you back out with your whole life changed. it will take you on a whole rollercoaster of emotions. the mm/ad pairing is quite an obvious one but the ss/hg is a subtle one and it’s more friendship throughout the whole fic than an actual romantic relationship. the ocs (a lot of them minerva’s family) are also SO well-made you’ll forget they’re not canon.

FALLING FURTHER IN by kaz2 - Hermione begins to learn something of the man behind the dark sarcasms of the classroom. - ss/hg, also features wolfstar, brotp between the faculty and severus // this was one of the fics i had in mind when i did that last post about missing old hp stories. this was started in the early 2000s and the author had free rein on a lot of the material. flitwick and sprout are married here and are the cutest things on earth. it’s also set during the summer leading into harry’s final year so all the teachers are staying at hogwarts and are all good friends with each other. hermione is there as well because her parents had been murdered by death eaters and so she’s spending it with them. the way the ww is written here is so...epic, jkr couldn’t even. snape lives in an invisible tower called serpens tower, the teachers often go to a brothel-which-isn’t-really-a-brothel in hogsmeade, the other teachers often baby severus subtly because he’s the youngest, wolfstar are tolerable and remus actually learns to brew his own damn wolfsbane, etc. the story is in story format until near the end iirc and then the author outlines what happens next rather than writing it out. i can’t blame them; it really is a massive undertaking.

The Crest by sheankalor - Dumbledore only holds partial say in who the Head of House is. Severus Snape is nominated as the Head of Slytherin, but has to pass a final test. Can he? Does he work well with the other three Heads of House? And just what is The Crest? - no pairings // staff fic // one of the rare one-shots but it’s in an au which feeds into other stories // i loooove the lore in this. it provides an explanation as to how a house head is approved by the school and i’m a sucker for any fic that has the faculty getting along.

Balance by rabbit and -v-Jinx-v - Hogwarts is under siege, and it's going to take everyone to find a way out of danger. - no pairings // brotp minerva and severus, also harry and draco form a friendship // this is one of my personal faves. it’s not only old magics but the entirety of hogwarts come together to battle against dark forces (not even death eaters but...balrogs...and other things). there’s no build-up to it; you enter the story after the battle’s already begun and then you get taken along for the ride. also has a part where the heads of houses meet the founders and there’s this epic dance that’s reminiscent of the danse macabre in The Graveyard Book (if you’ve read that you’d know what i mean).

Another World by Aeryn Alexander - Detention with Snape turns into something of an adventure for Hermione and Ginny, not to mention Professor Lupin, as they all discover that Hogwarts holds a terrible secret that none of them want to learn. - ss/hg, rl/gw // this fic took me by surprise because i didn’t expect it to go the way it did based on the summary lmao. the 4 basically get trapped in a mirror version of hogwarts after a potions accident, and the mirror world has literal demons in it. they have to find a way to get back into the real world while not getting killed at the same time. i actually liked lupin in this one and he and severus form a tenuous friendship.

In One Spirit by mavidian - Voldemort and Dumbledore prepare for war and survival. Plans go awry, intrigues abound and nothing is what it seems. Snape created the Dark Mark but that mistake may cost him everything. Can Hermione be his saving grace? - ss/hg but it’s such a slow build you barely notice it during even the first 20 or so chapters because he’s his usual asshole self and they’re too busy trying to protect hogwarts // the concept of this fic and the lore it built up...wow. the faculty are all friends and they’re trying very hard to protect hogwarts using their own magics and their own clever schemes (war brooms? battle wands? blessing tree? filch even gets powers!). voldemort is also equally devious here and snape has loving pureblood parents! (not that it matters, he’s still an ass, but then it’s nice to read about him having a nice family for once). neville also steps up as a member of one of the Traditional Families so he’s quite a BAMF here.

yo pls feel free to add your own recs to this post, i’m pretty sure there are loads more out there!

#fic recs #old magics #worldbuilding #snape #hp

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lyranova · 4 years ago

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Heyooooo Lyraaaa 😘!!! I was wondering if um hehe👉👈😅, if you could make a yamichar fic where they accidentally traveled in time and accidentally meet their future child (or children lmao) lol😂, it's okay if you don't wanna do it 🙂 no pressure 😘

Children of the Future:

Chapter 1: Hikari

Of course Lei! I’m sorry this took so long IRL has been busy 😅! But i hope you like this, also I just realized you wanted Yamichar to be the ones who time travel, and instead i made it the child who goes back in time oops. But i hope this is ok! Also, Hikari belongs to the lovely @eme-eleff (thank you for letting me borrow her for this Ilysm 🥰💕!)

Edit: This is Chapter 1 of my new series ‘Children of the Future’, instead of reposting it I decided to edit it and reblog it haha!

Word Count: 1,701

Warnings: None

———

Yami couldn’t stop grumbling, he had been summoned by Julius to come to his office, he claimed there was something important he needed to see. Yami had been confused at first, but he wasn’t really allowed to disobey a summons from the Wizard King. So he walked through the halls that he knew like the back of his hand, deep in thought, when he saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eyes. He turned and noticed it was the Prickly Princess herself, Charlotte Roselei. He watched her look up in surprise at him and her face turned a shade of pink.

“ Y-Yami? What are you doing here?” She asked as she came to a stop, she hadn’t seen him for a while, since everyone had been training in order to battle the Spade Kingdom. She watched him tilt his head and do a half-shrug.

“ The Wizard King summoned me, said he had something important to show me. You?” He asked as he also came to a stop.

“ Same here, I wonder if he summoned the other Captains as well.” Charlotte said curiously as she folded her arms, it wasn’t unusual for Julius to call them suddenly, but when it did it usually meant trouble for the Kingdom.

“ I didn’t see any of them, and I don’t sense their Qi, so I think it’s just us here.” He told her with a thoughtful scowl, Charlotte hadn’t seen any of them either, which made this meeting even more curious.

“ C’mon, let’s not keep him waiting.” Yami said suddenly as he began to walk away, she blushed even more as her mind raced ‘H-He wants to walk there together?! Won’t that give people the wrong impression?!’ Her mind screamed, but she shook her head and followed behind him. They could always say they met outside the door or something.

Charlotte watched as Yami knocked on the door, they heard Julius say something on the other side to signal to them that they could enter. Yami pushed the door open, allowing Charlotte to walk inside first, and closed it behind them.

“ Ah good you’re both already here.” Julius said with a warm happy smile, Charlotte and Yami walked up to the desk. It was still hard to believe that the Wizard King was now back to his original self, they had gotten so used to seeing him younger that they would sometimes forget this was him.

“ Why are we here Julius?” Yami asked as he crossed his arms, he wasn’t really in the mood for chit chat, and he assumed Charlotte wasn’t either since she had a small scowl on her face as well. They were both trying to train their squads so they could face the Spade Kingdom, and this was distracting them from doing that.

“ Well,” he said with a sheepish laugh, that only made the two Captains scowl further. “ I went down stairs where we keep the forbidden magic items, and I stumbled across this portal. I don’t think it’s ever been used, anyway, I went down there looking to see if there may be an item to help me change back to my proper age. Well, instead I found her,” Julius moved out of the way and behind him sat a young girl around 19 years old.

She had long dark hair, bright blue eyes, and a small scowl on her face. Charlotte looked her up and down, she was wearing a deep blue top with a pair of dark brown pants, wrist length gloves, and dark knee length boots. But what caught her attention was the cloak she was wearing, Charlotte’s eyes widened as she looked at the insignia, it was a Black Bulls robe, she looked over at Yami and saw he recognized it too. But if he was surprised he didn’t let it show.

“ Why did you give some random kid my squads robe Julius?” Yami asked as he suddenly grabbed a cigarette and put it into his mouth.

“ I’m not just some random kid! Also, if you’re going to smoke it’s best to do it outside or, even better, stop smoking. It’s bad for you.” The young girl remarked as she stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and walked over to stand next to Julius’s desk.

Charlotte and Yami blinked, this kid had quite the mouth on her. But he did as she asked and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and put it back in it’s case. The young girl smiled in triumph, that's when Yami frowned. That smile, it looked familiar, but where had he seen it before?

“ Anytime I ask you to smoke outside you always ignore me, but when a child asks you too you listen and do it without a second thought.” Charlotte commented with a small laugh and a shake of her head, Yami rolled his eyes a bit, of course he was going to listen to a kid. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but he could be a big softie when it came to kids. He looked over and noticed Charlotte had a small smile on her face, he paled slightly, that was the same smile the young girl wore just a moment ago.

“ Hey kid, what’s your name?” He asked, hoping beyond hope that his gut feeling was wrong, that her Qi wasn’t what he saw it to be. The young girl glanced over to Julius who nodded, she turned back to them, her head held high as she announced.

“ My name’s Hikari, Hikari Sukehiro.” Both Captains paled, Sukehiro? As in Yami Sukehiro?! Charlotte turned to look at him, he wasn’t able to hide the surprise on his face at this revelation.

She felt a small pang in her chest, as though someone had just plunged a dagger into it, he had a daughter? With another woman? She shook her head, they weren’t dating so what right did she have to be hurt and upset, at the most they were just colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. But it still hurt to think of him being with another woman, of him having a child with another woman.

“ This isn’t funny Julius.” Yami growled, he knew this wasn’t a joke, just from the way she stood he could tell she was his daughter, also from the way she had no problem telling him off about smoking. The only thing that confused him though, was why she had the same smile as Charlotte.

“ It isn’t a joke Yami, she came here from the future, at least according to her. I had Marx use his memory magic on her, everything she has told me is the truth and her memories prove it.” Julius said as he leaned back against his desk, Charlotte couldn’t help but glare at him slightly.

“ Why did you call me here then you majesty? Just so you could have a witness in case Yami tried to murder you?” She asked, a little more ice to her tone then she had intended. It didn’t go unnoticed. Julius blinked a bit before looking over at Hikari.

“ Um, I think you need to explain your parentage a little more, Hikari.” He stated with a nervous laugh, the young girl nodded.

“ Yes sir. It’s true, my father is Yami Sukehiro. But my mother,” she turned to look at the blonde haired woman. “ is Charlotte Roselei.”

Charlotte blinked at Hikari. Her? She was her mother?! No, no, no, that made no sense! How could she be this girl's mother? She and Yami weren’t even dating! There was no way Hikari was their daughter!

“ That makes sense,” Yami said suddenly, she whipped around to face him, her face brighter than the sun, and she gaped like a fish out of water.

“ H-How does this make sense?!” She suddenly shouted, she watched a small smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

“ Her Qi first off; it’s a mixture of mine and yours which is why I didn’t recognize it at first. Second, the way she carries herself is the same as you, her eyes are a similar shade although they’re a little lighter than yours, and her smile, heh, that smile; it’s exactly the same as yours.” He said the last part so softly, so warmly, it made Charlotte not only turn redder, but it made her heart melt. He...noticed how she smiled? Of course he did, he was very observant. But what she didn’t expect to see was how his smirk had changed into a warm loving smile, how his eyes had softened.

Charlotte had to be dreaming, she just had too!

“ So, umm...until we can get Hikari back to her own time, she’s going to have to stay with one of you or, if you want my opinion, both of you. Since she is your child and it’s probably what she’s used to, I’d suggest you all find somewhere to stay that’s close enough to each of your respective headquarters. I think it’ll be easier for Hikari to adjust that way.” Julius said with an innocent smile, both Captains couldn’t help but frown, was he trying to subtly get them to move in together? Yami suddenly sighed.

“ Fine, I guess we really don’t have much of a choice huh. Especially since that was an order.” Yami stated, causing Charlotte to gap at him even more, he wasn’t even going to try and convince the Wizard King that them moving in together was a very bad idea?! But as much as Charlotte wanted to argue, she could tell by the tone of the Wizards king's voice that it was, in fact, an order. She also couldn’t disagree, it would probably be better for the young girl if they all did live together. She suddenly chuckled humorlessly at the situation.

Finding out she had a daughter and now being ordered to move in with the man she was in love with who, by the way, was completely oblivious to her feelings for him? This was not how she was expecting this meeting to go!

——

Ah i’m sorry if this isn’t very good 😅! I couldn’t really think of how to end this but I hope some of you enjoyed this and I apologize if you didn’t! Also I hope you like it Lei 🥺💕! Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#asks #lei🌸#black clover #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #yamichar #yami x charlotte #charlotte x yami #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #black clover yami #black clover charlotte

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catboyelphaba · 4 years ago

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what’s this??? gelphie character references??? >:3

yeah! if you’re having trouble picturing them in my writing (or if my descriptions don’t really match up with how you see them in your own head), here’s just how I imagine they look (and how you can expect to see them described). (this also exists in case i forget some details) <3

Elphaba:

tall (like 6′2″ probably?)

lanky bby. stringbean. got that Library physique.

toned arms, still. she carries a lot of books around and it’s not like that’s not gonna build (or at least maintain) muscle

FANGS this is NON-NEGOTIABLE (and her other teeth are sharp, too)

a few freckles!!

do i. do i need to say that she’s green

i once read a fic where she blushed purple (instead of just darker green) and i’ve lived by that headcanon ever since

eye color is a whole spaghetti-tangle of genetic fuckery (and her lineage being. unique also throws another spanner in the works) but she’s got brown eyes w/ little gold flecks in them

*voice of god* behold! the holy no-tiddies mathematical expression: childhood neglect/malnutrition + a dubious-at-best ruling of afab (that’s canon, don’t come for me) + the metabolism of a hummingbird on speed + constantly walking around a big-ass college campus

i promise i’m not a creepy dude who writes about boobs all the time i’m just a trans guy and an escapist

sharp! elbows, knees, tongue, you name it

why the fuck does she lose her glasses after Popular that shit makes no sense. i wear glasses and will never get over this. anyways she’s blind as fuck without them and it’s safe to assume she’s wearing them whenever i write her

dark under-eye circles

i mean,,,,,, she’s a college student majoring in a STEM field like. what did u expect lmao

right-handed, but reasonably dexterous with her left as well

HOWEVER her handwriting ranges between “yeah i think i can read that?” and “fucking illegible” at any given time this girl has NO patience and her brain is faster than her hands by MILES

nose is a lil crooked (common symptom of Will-Fight-A-Bitch Syndrome)

scars

oh boy so many uhhhhh.

lots of common ones like knees/elbows from just Being a Kid

several in the wrist/forearm region, mostly from her teeth

most of the more serious ones are on her back. they’re shaped like buckles and sharp lines and the death-masks of flames and one of her favorite hobbies is not talking about them

two almost-identical ones on her right hip and shoulder that she legitimately does not know the origins of (literally no significance to this, just kind of funny)

short nails. she bites em when she’s nervous. whoops

glinda already waxes poetic about her hair in the book so i’ll leave it at that ;) only distinguishing characteristic i usually add is that it’s like. hella long. like waist-length at least

Glinda:

short!! tiny!! (like. 5′1″ max she is SMALL!!)

n chubby! aughhg my vision of glinda is just. so soft she makes me happy to think about. i’d love to get a hug from her any day of the week

teeth are a little crooked but in like. a charming way

fuck it, she has freckles too. more of them, b/c she doesn’t spend as much time inside as Elphaba does

pale as fuck; see above. doesn’t tan, just gets freckles (as a fellow pasty bitch i can relate)

this one’s kind of dumb to specify lmao she blushes like a normal person

two subtly-different blues in her eyes. it’s weird and it looks like a trick of the light at first but it lends her some mystery

i had a conversation with an online friend about this YEARS ago :,) i miss her... love you, olive, wherever you are...

it’s important to pay attention to her eyes in conversation. she might be acting dumb but she’s keyed IN. much sharper than a lot of people realize, or give her credit for

oh boy the boobie question. uhhh you guys know what? i’ll leave this one up to you, honestly it’s not v important to me

the round/soft to Elphaba’s angles <33 fuck i love that dynamic so much

probably needs glasses but would NEVER wear them. a lil squinty as a result, sometimes

actually gets the appropriate amount of sleep! good for her, honestly. charismatic enough that she can talk her way into extensions/out of missing assignments VERY easily to catch those extra Z’s

lefty!! (so she and Elphaba can hold hands without compromising their dexterity or whatever) her handwriting is really neat b/c she has to go slowly in order to not smudge the ink

so, naturally, Elphaba’s handwriting annoys the fuck out of her kjhgjfkdfsj (she can still read it with barely any trouble tho b/c she’s a fucking simp i don’t make the rules) (oh wait. i do.)

misc. facial features

cute lil nose!

OH MY GOD SHE HAS DIMPLES I ALMOST FORGOT

pierced ears, naturally

no scars, surprisingly. she was a cautious kid

nails aren’t long, but are well-maintained

her hair is like. ungodly soft. v shiny, naturally curly, just as bouncy and sunshiny as she is <333

she’s just such a ball of positivity??? i lov,,,,,, she,,,,,

#hc #elphaba #glinda #gelphie #sort of #character refs

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cakesunflower · 5 years ago

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Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 1

A/N: So I caved and decided to post part 1 of this fic. The way I wrote Calum in this is different than the way I’ve written him in the past, I think--as in he’s just a little honey in this LMAO. I hope y’all enjoy!!!

The microwave in the teacher’s lounge was sparkling clean, and Odessa took that as good of a sign as any. The one in the high school she’d taught at in Nevada had never been clean, no one ever having the decency to clean up after their mess—and Odessa refused to do it, given that it looked as nasty on her first day there as it did on her last. It was why she always brought cold lunches from home so she wouldn’t be subjected to such filth. But this microwave was spotless, and Odessa had no qualms in placing her small bowl of spinach and chicken pasta to heat up during her lunch break.

As she waited for her food to heat up, Odessa allowed for her gaze to wander around the teacher’s lounge. It was large, bigger than her last, which wasn’t surprising given that she was from a town of barely four thousand people, with square table to eat at, couches, a bulletin board pinned with colorful fliers of latest school events. There was a hum of chatter from the few other teachers who were either on their lunch break or weren’t on cafeteria duty for the current freshman and sophomore lunch period. Large windows that looked out towards the front of the school parking lot allowed for the late morning sunlight to stream in, brightening up the space and bringing Odessa a sort of comfort her old town surrounded by mountains bought her.

“How’s your first day going, Odessa?” She turned to see Mrs. Brewer, the chemistry teacher, approaching her with a kind smile on her face. Mrs. Brewer was older than Odessa—as was most of the staff at the school, truthfully—but she’d been one of the first friendly faces to greet Odessa on her first day earlier that morning.

“Pretty well,” Odessa answered with an honest smile. Technically, it was everyone’s first day, given that it was the first day of the school year. But Odessa was new to living in a city she only came to for vacation, so her first day was relatively different than most people’s. With a gentle laugh, she added, “I’m in the same boat as the freshman so we’ve decided we’re in this together. The sophomores are pretty easy going, too.”

Mrs. Brewer chuckled, turning to the counter they stood by to prepare herself a mug of coffee. “Making friends with the freshman—smart.” Odessa smiled, opening the microwave when her food was ready. “Have you met any of the other English teachers yet?”

Odessa hummed thoughtfully. “I’ve met Bridget Donnelly and Justine Greggs.”

Stirring the sugar in her mug, Mrs. Brewer tilted her head as she followed Odessa towards the table. “You haven’t met Calum yet? I’m positive he’s the only other teacher here around your age,” she said with a laugh.

As soon as she sat down on the chair, Odessa’s eyebrows shot up at the name, clicking in her head like a snapping rubber band bringing forth a memory she’d forgotten about. Calum—of course! He was Luke’s friend, who Luke told her about as soon as she’d mentioned the school she’d gotten a job at. Calum was one of Luke’s closest friends, and Luke had informed her that he was the boys soccer coach at the school as well as one of the high school English teachers.

In the haste of moving out of Nevada and to California and preparing for her job as she settled down, the fact had slipped right out of Odessa’s head. She’d never met Calum, but she knew of him because of Luke, who Odessa kept in touch with even after they graduated college and she moved back to Nevada and he remained in California. She saw pictures of Calum on Luke’s social media, knew that Luke was in a band with him and two other guys. What a small world that she ended up with a job at the same school he was at—and yet she had gone almost half of the day without running into him.

“Oh, look—speak of the devil.”

Odessa glanced up at Mrs. Brewer’s words, following her gaze towards the door where she saw a familiar face walk through. Her back straightened as Calum entered, offering a smiling nod to Mr. Engels, the government teacher. Odessa easily recognized him in his pale yellow button down tucked into black jeans, running his fingers through short blonde curls, soft on sight, and flexing the muscles on his tattooed arm. She bit the corner of her lip as she watched him make his way towards the bowl of fruit by the stove, deaf to the way her mind was telling her to look away. He was handsome, the yellow shirt downright beautiful against his inked skin, the pictures she’d seen of him not at all doing him justice.

As if feeling her gaze on him, Calum’s dark eyes met hers right as he picked up an apple, and Odessa felt her cheeks warm at being caught but before she could even think to look away, she saw recognition flash across his features. Then, to her surprise, Calum was making his way over with a knowing furrow between dark eyebrows as he asked carefully, “Odessa? Odessa Kline, right?”

Odessa told herself it was just her polite nature that brought her smile, not the slight accent he had when he spoke. She sat up, nodding as she answered with a light laugh, “Yeah, yeah. It’s nice to finally meet you, Calum.”

He grinned then, a smile that brought sharp crinkles to the corners of his soft eyes, and Odessa chalked the flip of her stomach up to her hunger and not the way he instantly pulled up a chair to sit next to her upon confirmation of who she was. His body faced hers, elbow on the table as he played with the red apple in his hand. “Yeah, you too,” Calum laughed, the sound deep and rich and dangerously fluttering something in Odessa’s stomach. “Luke’s told me a lot ’bout you.”

“Same here,” Odessa nodded, feeling a small surge of confidence as she added, “I was gonna try to find you at the end of the day so I could meet you but I guess you beat me to it.”

“Not too disappointed, I hope,” Calum chuckled, making Odessa shake her head in response. She was getting pathetically ahead of herself, but she highly doubted she could be disappointed in meeting him. Not with that smile and voice. Calum’s gaze then flickered over her shoulder and he lifted his chin, charming smile ever present on his face as he greeted, “Afternoon, Mrs. B.”

Mrs. Brewer smiled back before gesturing between the two of them, raising her mug as she asked, “You two already know each other?”

With a shake of her head, Odessa answered, “We’ve got a mutual friend.”

“Good—now you have more than just the freshman on your side,” Mrs. Brewer teased Odessa with a smile before getting up. “Excuse me, I should probably get my lesson plan ready for the afternoon classes.”

She left, leaving just Odessa and Calum sitting at the table, and Odessa faced him once more as he hummed. “Mrs. B’s right—us English teachers gotta stick together.”

Odessa raised an eyebrow, picking up her fork and shooting Calum a smile as he bit into his apple with a sharp crunch. “Against who? The students or the rest of the teachers?”

He swallowed the bite, sharp jaw working as a teasing glint flickered in his dark eyes when he let his gaze briefly wander over to the few teachers in the room. “Both,” he answered with a small smirk once his gaze met Odessa’s, earning a laugh from her. “No, but really,” Calum laughed, lightly slapping the top of the table with his free hand. “You need anythin’, let me know, yeah? Luke’ll throw a fit if I didn’t.”

Twirling the pasta around her fork, Odessa raised an eyebrow at Calum, unable to keep her smile from turning teasing as she asked, “Oh, so you’re only offering because of Luke?”

Calum scoffed lightly, giving a subtle shake of his head. “Any friend of Luke’s is a friend of mine,” he told her, and his kind words had Odessa’s cheeks warming once more. It was totally because of his subtly accented words and not the smile that accompanied them. They both took a bite of their food, and afterwards Calum spoke, “Speaking of Luke—I’m assuming you’re coming to his bar Friday night? Since the party’s for you and all.”

Odessa paused in reached for her water, head turning towards Calum with a raise of her eyebrow and tone falling flat as she asked, “The what’s for who now?”

Calum blinked in mild confusion, eyebrows knitting together as he took in Odessa’s own questioning expression. Then, almost comically, his dark eyes widened in realization and he bared his teeth, hissing as he inhaled sharply through his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in self exasperation. “Ah, fuck, I don’t think I was ’posed to tell you that,” he groaned, free fist pressing against his forehead as Odessa kept her gaze fixated on him, silently demanding him to further explain. Sitting up, Calum informed, “I mean, it’s not really a party. He’s just having a few people come over to welcome you. You know how Luke’s always lookin’ for a reason to celebrate.”

Odessa’s expression fell at Calum’s words, a small sinking feeling settling in her stomach. “Oh, God,” she huffed, leaning back in the chair and blank gaze falling on her lunch in front of her. “He knows I don’t like being the center of attention.” Odessa glanced at Calum, a half smile curling at her lips before she added, “Except in the classroom.”

He laughed lightly, nodding along and Odessa had a feeling that he may, in some way, relate to her words. When his gaze met hers once more, a warmth that somehow had the power of making her feel at ease despite the news of Luke’s party, Calum lifted his chin. “It won’t be too bad. You should definitely still come.” Then, with a small, boyish smirk and a raise of an eyebrow, Calum added, “We’ll even perform a couple of songs for you.”

Her stomach flipped. She kept telling herself it was because she was still hungry and not because of the crinkles that appeared alongside his kind smile. And despite the warmth in her cheeks, Odessa still said, “How can I say no to that?”

*****

“Grams, Grandpa, I’m heading out!”

Odessa’s grandfather, Zeke, sat up from his recliner and looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “You’re not driving, are ya?”

“No, the Uber’s gonna be here in a minute,” Odessa reassured him with a laugh. She entered the living room, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek before stepping over to where Grams sat on the couch, a book in her hands and pressed a kiss to her temple as well. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back—please don’t wait up.”

Grams looked up at her, blue eyes holding a maternal concern as she asked, “You won’t be alone, will you?”

“No,” Odessa told her, shrugging on the deep red bomber jacket. “I’m gonna be with Luke—you remember him, right?”

“That tall, handsome boy we met at your graduation? How can I forget?” Grams grinned, earning a bemused scoff from Grandpa. Odessa merely laughed as Grams added gleefully, “Are you interested in him?”

Her question had Odessa laughing only harder, intensifying as Grandpa grumbled, “Kid looks like a mountain man.”

“I’m not interested in Luke, Grams,” Odessa laughed, her cheeks already hurting from the grin. She swore Grams was sometimes worse than her gossiping aunts, except she knew Grams only ever came from a place of warmth and good intentions. The same couldn’t always be said for her aunts. “He’s just a friend, and he’s got a girlfriend.”

Grams twisted her lips to the side, disappointment evident. Clicking her tongue, she looked up at Odessa pointedly and said, “I’m sure he’s got some cute friends. A boy like that’s got to.”

Odessa bit the inside of her cheek, a face flashing across the forefront of her mind that she instantly pushed back with a skip of her heart. This conversation was only bringing forth thoughts Odessa had repressed over the past week—particularly when she saw that familiar face in the school hallways or teacher’s lounge. He’d pop into her classroom in between classes, greeting her like they were old friends, chatting for brief periods before they had to attend to their students.

She appreciated Calum’s friendliness more than she thought she would. In the midst of settling down in her new job, getting to know new students and ironing out her lesson plan, it felt nice to wind down and relax for moments in the form of talking to Calum. He was sweet, charming, and from what Odessa gathered over her first week at teaching at the school, he was adored by his students. She was also pretty sure a bunch of them had a crush on him—not that she blamed them. Odessa herself wasn’t innocent of not harboring innocent crushes on her school teachers—or college professors.

Fuck. She couldn’t be talking about crushes and Calum in the same context.

Glancing down at her phone, Odessa noted the Uber waiting for her outside, and after a quick goodbye to her grandparents—as well as to Lettie, Grams’s American shorthair—Odessa was out the door and sliding into the backseat of the Hyundai. She kept busy on the ride by scrolling through social media, letting Luke know that she was on his way, who was still bothered that she didn’t let him pick her up. But Odessa had errands to run right up until she got ready, and she didn’t want Luke to wait around for her, and she didn’t mind taking an Uber—especially with driving being out of the question since she planned on drinking.

Her knee bounced during the ride over, a flutter of nerves making themselves known. Like Luke, Odessa was always down for a party—except when she was the center of attention. Honestly, she thought Luke inviting everyone to hang out to welcome her was both sweet and excessive, and when she had told him about her hesitation, Luke had been understanding. Of course, he’d cursed out Calum for ruining the surprise, but at the end assured Odessa that it wouldn’t be a big thing. It would just be people he was close with that he wanted her to meet, especially now that she was living in the area and Luke, who was a social butterfly, loved having all of his friends meet. And with Luke knowing how Odessa felt about parties centering around her, she felt a lot more at ease attending tonight.

Except it was easier to blame her bouncing knee on those kinds of nerves rather than the ones of seeing Calum outside of school.

Right as the Uber turned onto the street Odessa knew the bar to be on, she texted Luke that she was basically there, and as soon as she stepped out of the car after thanking the driver, she felt a smile grow on her lips to see Luke emerging from the bar, ready to greet her upon arrival. The sign above the bar was neon blue that read Borderline, the name of the joint, with windows on the bar front allowing to show how busy it was inside. Odessa prayed they were mostly people just enjoying a night out and now those who Luke personally invited.

“I still wish you would’ve let me given you a ride instead of wasting money on an Uber,” was how Luke chose to greet her, arms open wide to allow Odessa to step into his embrace.

She snorted, returning his hug, enjoying his familiar warmth as she returned dryly, “Hello to you, too.” When they pulled away, she smiled and patted his chest. “Next time.”

He rolled his blue eyes before dropping his arm around her shoulders and ushering her inside, bumping knuckles with the bouncer out front before they entered the loud, busy bar. It wasn’t bright inside, the lights dim and soft on the eyes as a DJ set up on a stand higher than the bar played music throughout. The first thing Luke did was lead her towards the bar, ordering Odessa’s go-to drink of a Malibu Bay Breeze which was ready for her quickly before bringing her to where a group of people—including a few familiar faces—were hanging out by a couple of tall tables.

Odessa returned the hug Sierra, Luke’s girlfriend, greeted her with before losing herself in the next few moments of meeting new faces. Luke’s friend Michael and his fiancé, Crystal, and Ashton with his girlfriend KayKay, and then finally—

Oh. Odessa hadn’t expected to see her.

“Long time, Odessa,” Paige, Odessa’s roommate from her junior and senior years of college, greeted with a too wide grin, stepping from the group and pulling Odessa in a hug she hadn’t expected. Paige’s rose scented perfume tickled Odessa’s nose as she returned the hug, hoping her mild discomfort didn’t overpower her surprise at seeing Paige, who pulled away with that grin still on her face. “I’m so excited you decided to move into the city! It’ll be great to catch up.”

The smile on Odessa’s lips felt strained, but she kept it in place as she forced herself to nod and respond, “Yeah, totally.”

If Paige picked up on the subtle lack of sincerity in Odessa’s words, she didn’t comment on it as she smiled and took a step back, grabbing her glass of mojito from the table. Gaze wandering over to Luke, Odessa saw the hint of apology in his blue eyes, and she bit her tongue. At least Luke was aware that she wasn’t too thrilled about Paige’s presence. Being her roommate for two years had been bad enough—Odessa didn’t have much of an interest in hanging out with Paige otherwise.

It wasn’t that Odessa hated Paige—it was just that Paige could be a bit much. In a bad way. It was always her way or the highway, and Odessa had become used to keeping her opinions to herself when she was around Paige in order to keep her then-roommate appeased and keep herself off of Paige’s shit list. Because she definitely had one of those. But after they graduated, Odessa had assumed she wouldn’t have to see her again—and she kind of wished Luke had given her some kind of warning that Paige was still a part of his life.

“Hey—the guest of honor’s arrived.” Odessa looked to the left to see Calum walking towards them, a friendly grin she often saw at school on his face as he made his way over, and Odessa tried not to think of how naturally she accepted his greeting embrace, the vague scent of cigarettes tickling her nose. The black lighter in his hand further confirmed he’d been smoking. She clicked her tongue at him at his words, and Calum chuckled and relented, “Right, right, this isn’t a party for you. Just a bunch of friends getting together.”

Odessa mirrored his grin, feeling her heart momentarily freeze at the teasing wink he sent her way as he grabbed the extra bottle of beer from Ashton’s hand. Next to her, Luke scoffed, “Yeah, thanks, man, for ruining the surprise.”

Calum shot him an apologetic grin while the rest of them laughed along, and Odessa came to his defense as she said to Luke, “You know I don’t like surprises. He basically saved you from getting smacked.”

Luke stuck his tongue out at her. “Last time I try to do something nice for you.”

The group of them gathered around a couple of round tables and chatted, and Odessa found herself feeling at ease in their company despite only having met some of them tonight. She was comfortable as she was asked questions about herself, the few who she didn’t know wanting to get to know her better, genuine interest lacing their tones, and Odessa returned the sentiment as she got to know them, too.

“So Odessa—you and Cal teach at the same school?” Paige spoke up, a curious smile on her face as she stood opposite of her. “How fun—it must be nice to have a familiar face in the building, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Odessa answered carefully, stirring her straw in her cup. She had learned, a long time ago, to always be cautious when it came to talking to Paige. She knew never knew when her so-called friend would try to turn the conversation against her. Still, though, when Odessa answered, she glanced at Calum, who stood to her right and shot her a charming and agreeing grin that had Odessa’s stomach flipping.

Paige nodded, humming innocently, gaze sharp. “I bet; probably makes it easier, right? I know how anxious you get whenever you’re in a new place.”

Odessa bit the inside of her cheek. She genuinely wondered sometimes if Paige was being patronizing on purpose or if she truly didn’t catch on to the way she spoke to her. Instead of feeling embarrassed, especially since she had no reason to, Odessa shrugged. “I broke out of that habit a while back; it’s easy to when you have to teach a bunch of hyper high schoolers.”

Next to her, Calum scoffed and held his beer bottle out to her. “I’ll drink to that,” he said, and Odessa smiled as she tapped her cup to his bottle before they both took sips of their drinks. “Teaching those kids is no joke.”

Michael rolled his green eyes, waving his free hand as he said sarcastically, “Yeah, yeah, we get it—you’re modern day superheroes.”

Odessa laughed with everyone else, easily finding the good nature behind Michael’s words as she continued sipping her drink. All the while ignoring the feel of Paige’s gaze on her from across the table, refusing to meet her gaze as she allowed for Crystal to pull her into a new conversation.

“Hey, come here a sec,” Luke murmured about ten minutes later, and Odessa excused herself from a conversation with KayKay and Michael before following him a few steps away from their group and towards the bar. When she came to stand next to him, Luke looked down at her with an apologetic expression. “I should’ve told you that Paige was gonna show up—I wanna say she came to see you, but if I’m being honest, it’s ’cause she knew Cal would be here so she kind of just invited herself.”

Odessa blinked up at him, his words kind of taking her by surprise. An uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach as she reluctantly asked, “Oh, are they, like, a thing?”

Luke shrugged as he took a sip of his tequila, licking his lips after. “Not really. I mean, Cal said they hooked up a couple of times but if I’m being honest—” Luke offered a wry smirk. “—she’s more into him than he is into her.”

At that, Odessa chanced a glance to where their group stood, eyes catching the way Paige stood next to Calum as they chatted with Sierra. The music playing in the bar deafened Odessa as to what they were talking about, but it didn’t blind her to the grin Calum shot Paige as she said something Odessa wasn’t privy to. “Really?” she asked Luke, the doubt a lot clearer in her tone than she would’ve liked it to be.

“Yeah, trust me,” Luke scoffed out a laugh, and Odessa glanced to see him look back at her as well after following her gaze. “Cal’s just a nice guy. They haven’t hooked up in, like, months. I think Paige just doesn’t get the hint, ya know?”

“You seem to know too much about this,” she said suspiciously, prompting Luke to merely smirk in response. Odessa let out a sharp breath through her nose, shooting Luke a look as she turned to face the bar. “When has Paige never gotten what she wants?” she added dryly as she flagged down the bartender, her drink finished and in need of another one.

Luke rolled his eyes, knowing the the truth of Odessa’s words. “Fair enough. Still, though—can’t wait for the day she gets knocked down a peg or two.” With a smirk appearing on his lips to show off his dimples, Luke added, “I always knew I was right to have you as my favorite across-the-hall neighbor.”

That had her laughing as the bartender placed her drink in front of her, and the grin on Odessa’s face remained as she said to Luke, “I missed you too, Luke.”

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @loveroflrh @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @thesubtweeter @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann @wildflowergrae

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silverlightqueen · 5 years ago

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Tequila Sunrise

Hoseok x reader - smut, fluff, very slight angst at the beginning

Inspired by Tequila Sunrise - 88rising, Jackson Wang, Higher Brothers, August 08 and GoldLink

Word Count: 7k+

Summary - Hoseok bails on you for work on day one of your holiday, but he soon makes it up to you...

Warnings - there’s a lot !! very brief mention of blood, alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, lots of dirty talk, degradation, possessiveness, dom!hobi x sub!reader, a very brief moment of dom!reader and sub!hobi, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), face sitting, edging, lots of breast play and nipple play (Hobi loves boobs lol), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mildly bratty reader, spanking, praise kink, pain kink, asphyxiation, reader calls Hobi Sir, rough sex, Hobi has a big dick, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it !!) creampie, cum-eating, impregnation kink, reader cries during sex and Hobi loves it, reader holds his hand and he busts a nut lmao, begging, hair pulling, groping, hickeys, gross overuse of ‘baby’ ‘baby girl’ and ‘doll’, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything lol

a/n: hey guys !! I’ve been listening to this song on repeat the past couple days bc the weather’s been so nice, and (after that pic of jhope in malta appeared on my tl again) I was inspired to write a little Hobi fic (which then became 7k words long lmao). unedited as usual, but I hope y’all like it. lmk what you think, and make sure you listen to the song when you read it !! x

silverlightqueen masterlist

When his Mercedes pulls up, I’m sat on the front porch – as I have been all day and all night – looking out at the still night sea, the sky above me dark with stars, the air a crisp and cool relief from the humidity of the daytime.

I don’t even look in his direction, trying to supress the anger that’s been building up since I awoke yesterday morning to his side of the bed empty and his car gone from the drive.

In my peripheral vision, I see him take a black cargo bag out of the boot and head up towards the house, watching me.

He doesn’t say anything, walking past me and through the front door, and I try not to follow him into the house and scream at him, opting to take a deep breath and look out at the view in front of me instead.

It’s not every day you get to sit on the porch of your private villa and watch the gentle waves rock up against the shore, the starry sky twinkling overhead.

He joins me a few minutes later, having changed from his all-black attire into a pair of black slim trousers and a loose white shirt, the neutral colours setting off his golden skin.

He puts a jug full of my favourite cocktail (therefore the only cocktail he knows how to make) down on the glass coffee table in front of us and pours out two glasses, handing me the one with a straw in it.

I take it from him wordlessly as he sits next to me, our legs touching, and I sip up a mouthful through the straw, the notes of tart orange flooding my senses, closely followed by the almost sickly-sweet taste of pomegranate.

He may not be the most… diverse drink-maker, but he makes a beautiful Tequila Sunrise.

He puts his bare feet up on the footstool beside him and rests a hand on my thigh.

I restrain myself from throwing it off.

‘I don’t feel like arguing with you, so let’s have a conversation instead. Say what you want to say, y/n,’ he prompts calmly, and I take a deep breath before speaking, knowing he’s right about having a conversation instead of an argument.

‘We came on this holiday to reconnect and spend uninterrupted time together. I wake up at 3am on our first day to find you gone, and you don��t come back ‘til 4am of day two. Do you understand why I’m annoyed?’

‘Yes, baby, I understand why you’re annoyed. But my staff knew we were coming here, and they sent me the information for a… for some business in the area,’ he says, purposely being vague because he knows I don’t like knowing the details of his dealings.

‘You didn’t have to go. You’re the boss; you don’t follow orders from your staff,’ I say, knowing I sound a little whiny, and he chuckles.

‘And I wouldn’t be the boss if I turned down jobs, y/n. I got where I am by taking every possible opportunity to make money. If I turned down jobs, doll, we wouldn’t even be on holiday right now,’ he points out, looking at me with raised eyebrows, and I pout, refusing to look back at him as I take another sip of my drink.

‘A call. A text. A note. Something to tell me where you were, and a couple updates wouldn’t have killed you, Hoseok. You were gone for over 24 hours,’ I say, and he chuckles.

‘Don’t go giving me that silly ‘I was worried about you’ routine, because you’ve never worried before. You know there’s nothing to be worried about,’ he says, annoyingly laidback and cocky, but he’s right.

He’s an expert, and he knows what he’s doing, having never once given me a reason to worry about him.

Whenever he comes home with blood on his clothes, there are no wounds to match.

It may have taken me slightly longer than I’d like to admit to realise that it was because the blood wasn’t his. ‘I wasn’t going to give you that routine. But if you’re planning on disappearing for over a day, at least let me know where you’ve gone,’ I reply sharply, and he’s silent, knowing I’m right.

‘I’m sorry, y/n. I thought you would’ve enjoyed it. Being alone for over a day in a fully equipped private villa in a foreign country with beautiful weather,’ he says gently, and I let out a laugh.

‘Hardly alone. I’ve had your staff bringing me food, watching me on the CCTV – don’t even deny it, I know you get them to keep an eye on me – and I spotted more of your staff patrolling around the house during the night,’ I say pointedly, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

‘You might not worry about me, baby, but you know I worry about you. If anything ever happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself. My priority is your safety,’ he says and, despite my annoyance with him, I feel my heart warming.

‘I understand that, Hoseok, but it’d be nice if it was you making sure I’m safe. By being here. With me,’ I say softly, and he nods, holding my hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to my skin.

‘I’m sorry, baby. What do you want me to say?’ he asks, words calm and genuine, never confrontational and defensive.

‘I want you to say that you’ll stay with me for the rest of the time we’re here. No more business from your staff,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow, sighing.

‘y/n, you know I can’t make promises like that. You knew that when you started dating me and you still knew that when you married me. But… I can make you one promise. If I have to go, I’ll tell you when and where I’m going, I’ll keep you updated, and I’ll come back as quickly as I possibly can,’ he says, and I can’t hold back the way my lips curl up at the corners at how he’s trying.

‘Okay. That sounds good,’ I smile, and he lets out a gentle chuckle, no doubt amused at how quickly I’m appeased.

‘I’m sorry, baby. I wish that my work didn’t mean me having to leave you,’ he begins, putting down his (empty) glass and pulling me onto his lap effortlessly, and I giggle as the cocktail sloshes in my glass at the movement, nearly spilling over the edges.

He takes the glass from me with a gentle smile and puts it down beside his, before he turns to look back at me, and I notice the way his pupils start to dilate, turning to look out at the sea to hide the blood rushing to my face at his gaze.

‘You know that, if I could, I’d spend every second of every day by your side, doll, but my work comes a close second to you in my life, which means that you also know that I can’t just refuse jobs,’ he says, arms holding me close to him and mouth moving against my bare shoulder.

‘Not only because of the money and because I need to pay my staff, but because I love my work,’ he says, his relaxed tone contrasting with the way his eager hands wander, one drawing patterns around my collarbones, the other subtly groping my breast.

He may be a big man with hundreds of staff beneath him and millions to his name, but to me, he’s still the boob-loving boy full of hope that I fell in love with.

‘Almost as much as I love you, baby,’ he says, and I can hear his smile in his voice, bringing a smile to my face too.

His fingers gently touch my chin, turning my head to face his, and when our eyes meet, I get that soft, warm feeling in my chest.

The feeling of falling in love with him all over again.

My eyes flutter shut and not even a moment later do I feel his hand curl around the back of my neck and pull me down to press our lips together.

Within seconds, the kiss becomes passionate and fiery, and I can feel that he’s missed me in the way he kisses me.

Our mouths move in sync, his tongue slipping between my lips and turning my brain into slush, the soft and pleasant pleasure of kissing him making my body numb all over.

‘Finish your drink,’ he says against my lips, and I ignore it for the moment, so caught up in the feeling of his lips of mine and his hands wandering around my body.

‘Baby. Finish your drink,’ he repeats, pulling away from me, cheeks glowing with a gentle blush and lips swollen.

‘Why? I’ve got… thirteen days to finish my drink,’ I joke, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘I think it’d be more fun for us to spend some of those thirteen days in our room. So, maybe, if you finish your drink, we can head upstairs, and I can make my absence yesterday up to you,’ he smirks, and I gulp, my pants suddenly becoming a little… damp.

I reach for my drink, knocking it back as he chuckles, and then I look at the jug, still with four glasses worth in it.

‘Shall we just finish it off?’ I ask, and he raises an eyebrow at me as he reaches for the jug.

‘Okay, baby girl wants to get drunk, huh?’ he teases, pouring out another glass for me before he refills his own, both of us knocking back our drinks.

The more of it I drink, the more I can taste the agave beneath the orange and the pomegranate, and I know that, after having not eaten much today, I’ll be tipsy in no time.

He watches me amusedly as I hold my glass out to him again, a grin playing at his lips as he refills it, and I start gulping it down before he can even refill his own.

He knocks his back and practically snatches the glass out of my hand, putting both of our glasses down before he slides his arms under me.

He stands up, lifting me up bridal-style, and I shriek, giggling as he heads into the house.

The back of my black floral maxi dress trails along the floor and he’s careful not to step on it as he carries me up the stairs, both of us laughing, high on desire.

When we reach our bedroom, he kicks open the door and places me carefully on the bed, never throwing me around.

He’s only ever rough with his cock inside me.

The balcony doors are open, the white curtains flowing in the gentle breeze, the sky above still dark with stars, but the sky ahead beginning to lighten to a pale yellow that’s reflected in the sea, signalling the sunrise.

He crawls over me, pressing kisses to my neck as I run my hands through his soft hair, my dress splayed out around us.

‘You’re so beautiful, doll. In this sexy dress. Can see your pretty tits through it,’ he mumbles against my skin as he begins marking me up, fingers toying with my nipples through the material, sending gentle waves of pleasure through me.

I can feel his hard-on against my thigh, and I reach down to palm him through his trousers, revelling in the way he lets out a choked breath against my collarbones.

‘Fuck, baby girl, let me….’ he begins, trailing off as I tilt my head to press a kiss to his lips, his tongue instantly delving into my mouth.

The taste of Tequila Sunrise dances across my taste buds as our mouths move together, his hands snaking around my waist as I rest mine on either side of his face.

It’s not long before I start grinding against him, letting out little whimpers, my pants embarrassingly damp at this point.

‘Let me… let me help you out, baby,’ he says breathlessly, breaking away from me, before moving further down the bed as I move further up.

He moves my dress so that he has access to the area between my legs through the thigh slit in the material, before reaching up and pulling the neckline down, my breasts spilling out of the material.

With a smirk, he rips my pants off, throwing the flimsy material over his shoulder, my glistening core on show to him, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘Oh, baby, you’re soaked. Did you really miss me that much? Did you touch yourself, doll?’ he asks, looking me in the eye, and I shake my head honestly, biting my lip at the feeling of the cool air on my bare heat.

‘God, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you, baby girl?’ he asks, eyes now focused between my legs, and I nod with a gentle little whine, wanting him to do something.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, looking up at me with hooded eyes as his hands start to travel up my legs, moving my dress further out of the way.

‘What do you want, baby? Use your words,’ he prompts, hands stilling at the tops of my legs, and I shiver when a sudden puff of wind travels through the room, ruffling his hair and hitting my core.

‘Your fingers, your mouth, your cock, anything, babe, please,’ I whine, hearing the desperation in my own voice, and he laughs, the air he expels hitting the area between my legs, prompting another whimper from me.

‘How about in that order then? My fingers, then my mouth, and then my cock?’ he asks, and I nod, his words causing another gush of arousal between my legs. ‘

Yes, god, yes. Please, Hobi, just touch me. Need you, need you so bad,’ I beg, and he seems to take pity on me, obviously sensing how desperate I am for him.

He parts my folds, the ministration making my body jolt, before he gently works one finger into me.

‘Oh, oh, god, Hobi,’ I moan out at the slight stimulation, clenching around him uncontrollably.

‘Fuck, baby, stop clenching, you’ll break my finger. Can I add another?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath, nodding fervently.

‘Please,’ I whine, and he wastes no time pushing another finger into me, the feeling making my back arch off the bed as a gentle whimper escapes from between my lips.

He gives me a few seconds to adjust before he starts gently rocking his hand, his fingers very slightly moving inside me, and I let out a whisper of his name.

‘So sensitive, doll. You can’t stop clenching. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up with my cock,’ he mumbles, eyes focused on the way his fingers disappear between my folds, and his words cause another moan to escape from my mouth.

He knows my body so well, knowing when he can increase his pace, gradually doing so until his fingers are pumping in and out of me rapidly, moans frequently falling from between my lips, my fingers gently clutching onto his soft fluffy locks.

When he adds another finger, my breath hitches in my throat, hands tugging on his hair, and he lets out a groan at the feeling, having a very slight pain kink that he (usually) manages to hide quite well.

He starts to rub at my clit with his thumb as his fingers pump into me, and it’s not long before I’m on the precipice of my climax.

And he knows that, which is why he removes his fingers, prompting me to let out a frustrated whine.

‘Don’t be bratty, or I’ll have to punish you, and then you’ll have to wait even longer before I let you cum,’ he warns, and I can’t stop myself from letting out another whine.

‘But, Hobi, please. I need to cum,’ I breathe out pathetically, and he raises an eyebrow at me, jaw clenched.

‘Come on, baby, don’t be a brat. You were being so good for me before, don’t spoil it,’ he says, sitting up, and it’s like I want to push him, want him to punish me.

‘But it hurts, Hobi,’ I whisper pitifully, and his eyes darken.

‘Fine. I gave you two chances, but you still want to be a brat. So now you can choke on my cock instead of having it stuffed into your little pussy. And it’s Sir to you now,’ he spits out, getting up off the bed.

‘Get up,’ he instructs, and I decide not to push him any further, climbing off the bed and watching as he lies down amongst the messy sheets and cushions, slowly pulling his shirt up slightly and unbuttoning his trousers, pushing them down to the tops of his thighs along with his boxers.

His rock-hard length springs up to hit his stomach, head swollen, red and leaking with precum.

‘Come here,’ he says with a tilt of his head, and I climb back onto the bed.

‘Ass up here,’ he instructs, and I throw a leg over him so that my ass, covered by my dress, is in front of his face and my face is centimetres from his dick.

‘Suck, you dirty little brat,’ he says, and I support myself on my forearms, breasts pressed against his stomach as I spit on my hands and run them up and down his cock, preparing him.

I take his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip and tasting his precum, and he pushes my head further down, making me supress a gag as he holds me in place.

My nose is practically pressed up against his balls, his cock pushing down my throat, and I try to take measured breaths through my nose as he continues to hold me where I am.

He then grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me off his cock, allowing me to clear my throat before prompting me to take him back in and, when I do, I instantly begin to bob my head up and down.

‘That’s a good girl. Go as deep as you can, baby,’ he instructs, one hand still holding my hair in a tight grip as he gathers my dress up to reveal my ass and pussy to him.

‘Look at this pretty ass. Can’t wait to leave hand-shaped bruises on it. Count,’ he commands, before his hand comes down harshly onto my ass.

‘One,’ I attempt to say with his cock in my mouth, the word coming out garbled and nonsensical.

He lands slap after slap onto my ass, hand still pulling my hair tightly as I’m trying my hardest to count whilst bobbing up and down his dick, and he stops when I reach ten.

‘Fuck, you’re such a good girl,’ he breathes out, letting go of my hair as his hands gently rub my ass to soothe my sore cheeks, and I hum against his cock, his hips bucking up at the feeling.

I cup his balls in my hand, and I can feel him nearing his orgasm, his hips beginning to buck up, causing him to fuck my mouth.

‘Fuck, love it when you let me fuck your mouth like a good little slut. Love it when you choke on me, doll,’ he grunts out, his thrusting obviously taking a lot of effort.

I stay still, allowing him to do as he pleases as I play with his balls, until he reaches down and puts his hands on my shoulders, pulling me up and off him.

‘I don’t wanna cum in your mouth, baby, I wanna cum in this tight little pussy. But.. I believe I promised you my mouth,’ he says, and I try not to move, knowing I need to wait for instructions from him.

‘You wanna sit on my face, doll?’ he asks, and I nod eagerly, looking over my shoulder at him.

‘Yes, sir, please,’ I reply, and he smirks with an amused chuckle, moving to lie down.

‘Come on,’ he says, and I move so that I hover above him, hands gripping onto the headboard as he wraps his arms around my thighs, pulling me down so that I’m practically sat on his face.

He doesn’t even give me a moment to prepare before he licks a bold stripe across my slit, making my whole body quiver above him.

‘Fuck, you taste so sweet, baby. So good, could eat your pussy all day,’ he says against my core, the vibrations making me whimper.

He starts relatively slow, tongue circling my clit before lapping up my slick and poking between my folds gently.

And then it’s not long before he loses his self-control, abusing my heat with his tongue, hands holding me in a bruisingly tight grip as I squirm above him.

‘Please, please,’ I moan, again and again, and I can see the amusement in his eyes as he breathes against my folds, his tongue circling my clit again and again.

‘Please, what? Words, baby,’ he says against my folds, making me jolt forwards, my face contorted with pleasure as he continues his attack on my pussy.

‘More, Sir, more. Need- ah, oh, fuck… need to cum,’ I force out between moans, face contorted in pleasure, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘My little slut wants to cum?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, and I nod, mouth open in a silent moan as the waves of pleasure roll over me.

He practically begins to make out with my pussy, lips moving against my folds as his tongue continues to push between my folds.

And then he decided to torture me further, mouth moving to suck at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me, curling them inside me.

‘Sir, fuck, feels so good, need… need to c-’ I moan out, my words cut off when his fingers scrape against the spongy spot inside me.

‘Then cum, doll,’ he prompts, pushing me over the edge when he curls his fingers and gently nips at my bundle of nerves, my orgasm washing over me.

My body convulses as he holds me in place, a drawn-out moan falling from my lips as he continues sucking at my clit and pumping his fingers into me in order to prolong my high, cumming on his tongue and feeling him lick up my release.

Once he senses me coming down, he gently flips us over so that I lie among the sheets and he pulls off his shirt, exposing expanses of beautiful golden skin pulled over hard muscle, before moving to hover over me.

‘You need time, baby?’ he asks, concern mixing with the desire in his eyes, and I nod, taking a deep breath.

‘Colour?’ he questions.

‘Green,’ I reply breathlessly, and he chuckles, the concern in his face disappearing.

‘So you don’t need time,’ he smirks, pushing into me with no warning.

I let out a loud moan at the feeling of him filling me up and he curses under his breath as I clench uncontrollably around him, my walls squeezing against his cock almost uncomfortably.

He doesn’t bother giving me time to adjust, just pulls all the way out of me, and slams back in, making me moan out, my back arching up from the bed, his face buried between my breasts.

‘As much as I love a face full of tits, I need you to stay still, baby,’ he says, voice strained as he continues slamming into me, our hips meeting every time he fills me up.

‘Fuck, more, Sir, more, please,’ I beg, and he chuckles as I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back.

‘More? You wanted some time a minute ago, and now you want more?’ he asks, and I nod, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss, tasting the sweet cocktail mixed with my own arousal on his tongue.

He moans into my mouth as I clench around him, and he speeds up even more, the headboard beginning to hit the wall as he pounds into me, balls slapping against my ass.

‘You feel so good around me, god, baby, so good. No one has pussy like yours. I’d fuck you all day if I could,’ he groans against my lips, and I grin at the praise, loving it when he compliments me.

‘Let me hear your pretty moans, baby,’ he prompts as he bends one of my legs between us, the new angle allowing him to go deeper, hitting the spot inside me that has my eyes rolling back and my back arching up into him.

‘Love your cock, Sir, love it when you fuck me rough. Just want you filling me up all the time,’ I moan out, the leg that’s still around him pulling him closer to me as I rake my nails down his back at the pleasure, loving the moan of my name that falls from his lips.

‘You love it rough, huh, doll?’ he growls, one hand coming to rest at the base of my neck, his rings providing some cool relief against my burning skin, and I sigh blissfully at the feeling of his thick cock stretching me out and filling me completely, awaiting his hand tightening around my neck.

And when it does, slightly cutting off my airways, I let out a loud moan, my breathing quickly becoming laboured.

My head whirls at the pleasure he’s providing me, and I can feel myself slowly nearing the edge.

‘I’m gonna…’ I force out before trailing off, unable to speak as his thrusts become more drawn out and forceful, his tip dragging against the spongy spot inside me.

‘You gonna cum, baby?’ he asks, and I nod as he smirks before ducking his head to suck one of my nipples, his hand still lightly gripping my neck.

‘Hold it,’ he says, my nipple still in his mouth, and I let out a loud frustrated moan when his thrusts slow down.

‘Sir, please,’ I moan, voice hoarse, my eyes beginning to fill with tears as he slowly rocks into me, lips mouthing over my nipple.

‘Beg. I love hearing my dirty little slut beg for me. Love hearing you beg whilst my cock’s buried in this tight little pussy. Who’s pussy is this, baby?’ he asks, mouth moving to the other nipple, and I whimper as my fingers tangle into his hair.

‘Yours, Sir, only yours,’ I force out as it becomes harder and harder to breathe, the lack of air making my head light and intensifying the pleasure.

‘It’s mine, is it, doll? If I own this pussy, I own your orgasms. So you better fucking beg me to let you have one,’ he spits out against my breast, hips still slowly rocking back and forth as his hand around my neck loosens slightly to let me speak.

‘Please, Sir, let me cum. Been so desperate for your cock, can’t hold it. Feels so good, no one can ever fuck me better than you. Only want your cock. Please let me cum, Sir, your cock’s too good, I can’t hold it,’ I moan, the words coming out without thought, and he groans.

‘Fuck, you’re so hot. Cum then,’ he says teasingly, without increasing his pace at all, and I whine.

‘Sir, I need… I need more,’ I whimper, and he chuckles.

‘Be specific, y/n. What do you mean by ‘more’?’ he asks, still with the same teasing tone.

‘Faster,’ I breathe out, feeling him instantly increase his pace.

‘H… harder,’ I whisper, and he practically begins pounding into me, the bed creaking embarrassingly loud.

‘Rub… rub me,’ I plead, and he chuckles, before one of his hands slowly trails down between our bodies, his fingers gently rubbing at my clit.

‘Ch- fuck, oh god. Choke… choke me,’ I manage to breathe out, and he groans, ‘so sexy,’ under his breath before his hand tightens at my neck again.

‘Talk,’ I mumble, and he chuckles, eyes darkening as he continues to fuck me, harsh and rough.

‘You want me to talk? What shall I say, baby? You want me to say how good your tight little pussy feels around me, especially when you clench?’ he spits out, making my walls flutter around him frantically, and he grins darkly.

‘You want to say I love how submissive and good you are for me, how innocent you look with your big eyes when I wrap my hand around your throat?’ he says, tightening his grip on my neck again, the lack of air making me light-headed, my vision blurring with tears.

‘You want me to say that I love it when your tits bounce against my chest, and that I love sucking on your nipples?’ he grunts, his hand momentarily abandoning my clit to gently slap at my breasts before squeezing them roughly.

‘You want me to say how much I fucking love it when your eyes roll back into your head and when you look so fucked out because of how good my cock makes you feel?’ he asks, pulling all the way out to slam back into me, and my eyes roll back, a laugh falling from between his lips at how predictable I am.

‘Or would you rather I beg you to cum all over my cock and soak it like a good little slut for me? How about that?’ he asks softly, before he begins his attack on my body.

His fingers roughly rub figure-eights on my clit, cock pounding into me almost painfully and hand tightening to almost completely cut off my breathing.

Almost instantly, I feel my orgasm wash over me, and I scream out, tears spilling down my face as overwhelming waves of pleasure flow through me.

He fucks me through my orgasm, continuing to rub at my clit and grip my throat as my release practically gushes out of me with each thrust, soaking the bed and both of our thighs.

Once I’m beginning to come down, his hands move to press into the bed on either side of my head, and he begins fucking into me with renewed vigour, the overstimulation making me sob.

‘Fuck, fuck, so sexy when you cry for me, doll. I don’t know whether it’s because you’re sensitive, or whether you just love my cock that much. Both, right? My baby loves being a little slut, but can’t handle it, huh? I’ll make sure you handle it, baby,’ he grunts, continuing to fuck me, and I know he won’t stop until he cums.

‘Take my cock, baby, fucking take it,’ he spits out, thrusting so hard I’m worried one of us will get injured.

The thought soon disappears from my head, the intense and painful pleasure rendering my mind blank.

‘Look at you, doll, such a good fucking slut for me. Letting me overstimulate you without complaining. Fucking love it when you’re like this. All messy and tired and dumb for me,’ he grunts, and I know I need to help him cum, or he’ll probably bruise my cervix.

Despite being so fucked out that I can barely think straight and having eyes streaming with tears, I have enough sense to reach down to cup his balls, and he lets out shaky breaths at the feeling.

‘Give me your hand, baby,’ I breathe out, and he balances all his weight on one hand, holding his other out to me, continuing to fuck me as I place his hand over my lower stomach.

‘You feel that? Can you feel your big, thick cock through my stomach? That’s how good you fill me up, baby,’ I say, knowing that his cock is protruding obscenely, and he moans at the fact that he’s managing to do this to me, throwing his head back out of pleasure.

‘Come on, baby, cum for me. Want your cum,’ I whisper into his ear as I wrap an arm around his back to pull him closer down to me.

‘Where, baby?’ he breathes out as I press kisses to his jaw and cheek, caressing his shoulders and neck and gently scraping my nails on his scalp.

‘Well, I’d say my tits, but you can’t ruin the pretty dress you bought me. And I’d say my face, but I put on some pretty makeup especially for you – love looking pretty for my baby boy. So how about you just cum inside?’ I ask, taking control, and he’s so desperate to cum that he doesn’t even put me back in my place.

‘Inside? Are you sure?’ he asks, voice strained, and I nod as his thrusts start to become a little uneven.

‘Want you to fill me up with your cum, baby boy, love it when you leave me dripping with your cum. Want your baby. Hmm, how does that sound? You wanna fuck a baby into me? Fill me up with you cum, baby boy, so deep that I can’t possibly not be pregnant,’ I whisper into his ear, knowing he loves it when I do so – he called me a sexy little vixen last time, and I can’t say I object to the name.

‘Fuck, fuck, wanna… wanna fill you up, wanna fuck a baby into you,’ he moans out, my heart fluttering at the momentary break in his dominant disposition.

‘Cum, baby boy, dirty up my pussy with your cum and give me your baby,’ I whisper, completely focused on his pleasure rather than my own.

His hips stutter, cock twitching inside me, and I take the chance to wrap both of my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his lower back to hold him in place as I play with his balls.

But the final straw for him is when I slip my hand beneath his on the sheets and intertwine our fingers together, the movement full of my love for him.

‘Fuck, y/n, feels so good,’ he chokes out, head buried in my neck as he reaches his high, thick spurts of his hot cum hitting my walls.

I continue grinding into him to prolong his orgasm, and his body falls limp after a few moments, his entire body weight resting on mine. I feel my high (that was beginning to approach) diminish rapidly, but I don’t care – as long as he feels good, I’m happy.

‘God, that… was intense,’ he mumbles against my chest, cock still buried inside me, and I smile to myself, playing with his hair.

‘Just a bit. I can’t believe you let me dom. Even if it was for, like, a minute,’ I say, and he laughs, breath hitting my bare skin.

‘Pussy so good, it turns me into a sub,’ he jokes, and I laugh, feeling him chuckle.

‘Let me… let me get you off,’ he says, moving off me, and I shudder at the feeling of his cock falling out of me.

‘No, it’s okay. I don’t know if I can handle it,’ I say jokingly, though I mean it – he’s given me such a good fucking, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to walk straight.

‘I’m not asking you, baby. I’m not done with you yet,’ he says with a dark grin, and it’s as though he’s regained all of his energy.

‘Hobi, I can’t take any more,’ I sigh, and he ignores my protests as he settles between my legs, moving my dress out of the way.

‘But you’re being so so good for me, doll. You’ve been handling it so well,’ he says, eyes fixed on the way his cum gently drips out of my abused pussy.

He begins leaving open-mouthed kisses up my thighs before he collects up his cum that’s dripped out of me, rubbing it back into my clit before gently pushing a finger between my folds.

‘No, Hobi, please, I can’t,’ I whine, the overstimulation too much as pumps in and out of me slowly.

‘Colour?’ he asks, and I sigh, knowing I should answer truthfully, before I say, ‘green.’

‘So you can, and you will,’ he says, and I whine again as he adds another long finger, scraping against my walls.

‘Listen to me, baby. I’m gonna eat your sweet little pussy until I’ve had enough, and you’re going to cum on my tongue as many times as it takes for me to be satisfied. Because I own this pussy, and I will do with it what I please. Understand?’ he asks, voice sounding slightly harsher, and I nod as his eyes meet mine, which are already beginning to fill with tears.

‘Yes, Hobi,’ I say submissively, and he grins, wasting no time before he licks a bold stripe across my heat, his fingers continuing to pump into me.

‘Ah, fuck, Hobi,’ I moan as the pain of overstimulation begins to ebb away into pleasure, the feeling of his mouth and fingers quickly bringing me ecstasy.

And then his fingers disappear, quickly being replaced by his tongue dipping between my folds and licking up his own cum that begins to gush out of me.

‘God, you taste so fucking good with my cum dripping out of you, baby. Best thing I’ve ever tasted,’ he mumbles against my heat, and I throw my head back in pleasure as my back arches, tears beginning to spill from my eyes.

He laps at my core like he hasn’t eaten for days, moans and whimpers falling frequently from my lips.

My fingers tangle into his soft, silky locks, pulling him as close as possible, my legs wrapped around his shoulders, heels digging into his upper back.

I can feel his eyes on me, watching as he works wonders at my core, my orgasm beginning to approach.

‘Fuck, more, Hobi, please,’ I whine, and I feel his lips curl up into a grin against me.

‘A few minutes ago, you didn’t want any more, and now you’re moaning for more, begging for more, like a dirty little slut,’ he chuckles, before pushing three fingers into me, making me cry out.

‘Yes, Hobi, god, yes! Feels so fucking good,’ I cry, tears streaming down my face, and he pumps his fingers into me rapidly before he begins sucking at my clit.

‘Look at you crying. Do I make you feel that good that you cry, huh, baby? Look so fucking sexy when you cry,’ he says teasingly against my clit, and I let out a loud sob, his ministrations feeling absolutely euphoric.

‘I’m gon- fuck! Hobi, I’m gonna cum,’ I moan, and he speeds up even more, my head whirling at the blissful feeling.

‘Come on, baby, fucking cum for me,’ he says, his fingers disappearing and quickly being replaced with his mouth.

His tongue dips between my folds as his lips furiously tug at my folds, before he begins alternating his tongue and fingers.

Both his digits and his muscle dip in and out of my folds, my moans getting louder and louder, and when his nose nudges at my clit, my mouth falls open in a silent scream.

‘Come on, y/n, cum for me, baby girl,’ he prompts against my clit, fingers continuing to abuse my pussy, and I feel myself beginning to come undone.

I scream out his name as my orgasm washes over me, body convulsing beneath him, and he prolongs my high by continuing to rock his fingers into me and lap at my clit gently, holding me in place.

Once I begin to come down, he removes his fingers and licks them clean, watching me with an affectionate smile as my thighs twitch with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

‘You did so well for me, baby, so well,’ he praises, as he climbs off the bed, pulling his boxers and trousers up, buttoning up as he disappears into our bathroom, coming back with a towel.

He gently cleans me up before helping me to sit up and handing me the bottle of water sat on the bedside table.

‘Drink it all. I’ll go get more from downstairs,’ he says with a smile, and I chug down the water as he disappears from the room.

I look out of the balcony doors to see that the sky is streaked with beautiful pastel colours, the sun peeking up from the ocean in an orange half-circle.

When he comes back, I’ve adjusted my dress (so that my tits aren’t out) and am sat against the headboard, and I laugh when I spot to jug of Tequila Sunrise in his hand with two glasses.

‘I thought we could have some more. Who say we can’t get morning drunk?’ he grins as he pours us out a glass each, handing me mine with a kiss to my lips.

He comes to sit beside me and puts an arm around me, and I instinctively curl into him, throwing my legs over his.

‘Did I push you too hard, baby?’ he asks, and I shake my head instantly.

‘It was great, baby, perfect. But I’ll probably need a nap soon,’ I say, already feeling a little sleepy, and he laughs.

‘That’s okay. You can nap, because we’ll still have twelve days to do whatever we want,’ he says with a gentle kiss to the top of my head, and I smile contentedly.

‘As long as you don’t leave me for work,’ I joke, and he chuckles softly.

‘I’ll try my best, baby,’ he replies, voice gently, and I smile to myself as I take a sip from my glass, both of us falling silent as we watch the sun rise.

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rentalboos · 5 years ago

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Not sure if you do requests but idea for a fic: a friend at the Doctor and the Master's wedding (13+Dh) proposes to their partner and steals the spotlight from the couple getting married. In an act of revenge, the Doctor and the Master furiously try to conceive so they can announce their pregnancy at the friend's wedding.

You asked, you shall receive! Because I really liked the pettiness of this whole concept lmao

It had started off as a joke.

“Let's invite Jack,” she had said, “he'll make every party entertaining, even if it's a one man show.”

It was a necessary thought, at the time, considering they really didn't have a lot of common friends left to invite to their wedding. Even less who would come to show their approval of it. The few people she would've possibly had considered safe to invite were all dead and gone along with Gallifrey... again.

“Let's invite Jack,” the Master had replied with a nod and a nasty grin, “he'll absolutely hate every second of having to watch you getting married to me.”

The Doctor had, fairly quickly, bid farewell to that particular idea.

He had a point.

The Master, however, morally carefree just like she knew (and apparently loved) him, had sent him an invite regardless.

And it had come back to bite him in the arse.

“I'll kill him,” he called out, indignation in his voice, so loud a few heads turned towards them – which, the Doctor thought with a gnawing of her teeth, would actually be appropriate.

But people returned to ignoring them soon enough, squeaking and applauding to the loud, outgoing dork that had entertained them throughout the whole ceremony, currently on his knees in front of the shy Wales boy, who was blushing furiously.

Jo Grant, currently on her fifth glass of Gallifreyan Champagne, was giggling uncontrolled.

“So I thought I'd ask, you know,” Jack laughed almost nervously and the sound thundered through the little crowd gathered around them. “We've been together – as in together together for so long now, it's... it's something I want to give a shot.”

“You can't kill him,” the Doctor remarked dryly. “You know that. You tried often enough.”

“It's our wedding! How... how... he planned this! He planned to ruin this for me!”

Ianto had sunken to his knees in tears now, kissing Jack hard, the engagement ring in their hands completely forgotten for a moment.

“Well, you just had to invite him, didn't you?” the Doctor snapped back, in a way that made it perfectly clear she was just as pissed as he was. Here they stood, in their shiny suits, her beautiful, TARDIS blue suit, flowers braided into her hair and guests showing up more or less willingly – And Jack had taken all their attention away with his own stupid, healthy relationship with that Ianto boy.

The Master shot her a wide grin, the annoyance in her mind sweeping over to him and opening quite a lot of doors to new possibilities.

“How about we plot some revenge, dearest?”

She gave him a little side glare.

“We're not torturing Jack, if that's what you mean.”

The Master simply kissed her forehead.

“You know me so well. But no, when it comes to revenge, I pride myself to be a bit more imaginative than that. I thought more of... Well. Let's just congratulate him, shall we?”

“For real?” the Doctor asked, stunned. “That's the last thing on my mind right now.”

The Master smirked.

“Gotta make sure we're being invited to his wedding, love.”

“So, the best times would be...” the Doctor scrolled through three different, chaotic pages in her hands, trying to find what she was looking for in an ocean of notes and scribbles. “Uhm... “

Well, the truth was, even if she could find the best time in her notes again, Gallifreyan biology made conceiving in any way that didn't involve looms.... a little bit of a lottery. Either that or the Doctor simply had no idea because she couldn't remember the last time she had been a woman, let alone wanted to get pregnant. Really, old school pregnancy? Hell no. There was no way to save the universe with a belly as big as a planet.

Currently, however, she was drowning in revenge thoughts and fantasies of out-staging Jack on his own wedding, the Master's own petty cravings raging in her mind, mixing with her own hurt feelings, and it had become impossible to separate them anymore.

Plus, the universe's biggest danger was currently by her side, hands under her shirt and a wide grin plastered onto his face.

“I don't care about the best times,” he muttered smugly into the crook of her neck, his hot breath on the sensitive skin making her shiver. “We'll just do it until it works.”

“I'm just not sure this is a good idea, really.”

“You agreed it was necessary,” the Master hummed, clearly tired of the subject being brought up yet again.

“I agreed it would've been... appropriate to return the favour,” the Doctor replied begrudgingly. “But lying to them and saying I'm pregnant when I'm not?”

“Aw, who cares, they don't need to know,” the Master waved dismissively. “It's not like they'll see you a lot.”

“They'll see me sometimes,” she noted. “And they'll kiiiinda notice the absence of a child, I think.”

The Master frowned. “Are you sure? I mean... have you seen the man's ego? I doubt he'll think about anyone but himself for even a minute.”

“Pot meets kettle,” the Doctor muttered, under her breath, but the Master merely raised an eyebrow, indicating he had understood her perfectly.

“It's charming when I do it,” he sulked.

“It is, it is,” she hastily reassured them. “I just... don't like lying to friends, okay?”

“They're not friends! Friends don't ruin other friends' weddings!”

It was the Doctor's turn to raise her eyebrow at him and he let his shoulders sink slightly in turn.

“Well, my point exactly,” the Master added sullenly. “See? We're not friends!”

“One last try,” the Master pleaded, begged almost, as they sat on the table, looking at food from seven different planets and trying to block out the constant welsh chatting from their right. “We could get pregnant here and now, and wouldn't that be a blow for the stunning couple, hm?”

The Doctor shook her head barely noticeable, her eyes still fixed to Jack and Ianto, who were currently dancing happily unaware of her scorn. They didn't only have everyone's eyes on them and were admired and talked about by the whole crowd, more people had showed up to their wedding, too.

It simply wasn't fair. Just because Jack hadn't married a homicidal mad man and his friends still were alive because his partner hadn't destroyed his whole home planet.

The Master's hand under the table slipped between her legs and the Doctor sighed. They had had sex..... a lot in the last few months. A lot a lot. She wasn't exactly complaining. Her body still reacted to his touch like it had the very first day, so much in fact, that the heat of her rage mingled with the heat of his proximity and the heat of the honey mead they'd been drinking excessively and suddenly the Doctor's head swam and she couldn't find a single reason to not get pregnant here and now.

The Master grabbed her arm and pulled her to the toilet, neither of them feeling Martha Jones' alerted eyes on them.

“I'm telling you!” she called out. “He just grabbed her and dragged her somewhere, he's doing something to her.”

Jack shook his head gently.

“Martha, they're married, he's not...”

She gave him a very dark look and Jack sighed.

“Okay, yes, he's still... you know... him. And I hate him. And I wouldn't put it past him that this whole “I'm domestic” act is just a plot to painfully murder her. But...”

Martha's gaze became more intense and flatly, Jack asked, “Which direction did they go?”

Sitting on the Master's lap, naked, several body parts disappearing inside the other person, his hand gripping her hair, her head thrown back against the door of the very tight toilet cabin, that wasn't exactly how she had pictured this revenge.

But when Jack, Martha, Ianto and a crowd of their friends had set out to start a desperate search party to find and rescue her, they probably hadn't pictured this, either. Worried, they had ran down the door to the cabin after having heard sounds of pain and moaning from behind.

Yeah. Well. She liked it a bit rough, so what?

The Doctor was still giggling at the thought, actually, that Jack with his one track mind, had, for once, not considered sex to be a possibility.

Jo Jones, meanwhile, was standing in the back, leaning against a wall, shaking with silent laughter and it was clear to everyone that she had come along not out of worry, but simply to enjoy the show.

“Sorry, Jack,” the Doctor said sweetly, as she climbed off the Master's lap and pulled up her trousers again. “Really didn't mean to crash your wedding.”

Jack simply snorted.

“Yeah right. I guess I deserved that.”

“Double, in fact,” the Master gave back, glaring at him darkly, as he stepped out of the toilet cabin behind his wife, fully dressed. “Because now you ruined this for me, too.”

It had done the trick, however, as they both couldn't help but notice with not a small amount of satisfaction. The whole room was suddenly talking about them, the news spreading like a wildfire, while the Doctor and the Master subtly slipped out and made their way back home, whistling.

“You know,” the Master noted after a little while of companionable silence, when they had almost reached their TARDIS. “In a way, I'm glad our original plan didn't work.”

“Yeah?” the Doctor asked, unlocking the door and pushing it open for him to enter. “Why?”

“I don't know,” the Master shrugged, in a way that perfectly signalled to the Doctor that he was merely pretending to be casual. “I think if we ever... you know, had a child.... I wouldn't want Captain Jack Harkness to be the reason.”

The Doctor froze mid-movement and the door snapped shut behind her.

Then she smiled.

“Yeah.”

#inbox #fanfic #my fanfics #prompt #thoschei #Thirteen/dhawan #DoctorxMaster #Doctor/Master #anon #Thirster #Thirsacha #spydoc #Jack Harkness #Janto

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luminousbeansarewe · 4 years ago

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what are your takes/version of how the sequel trilogy went down? because i also have my own version in my head, not.... that, but im really interested in the ideas other people have had for it

hoo boy there’s a lot of ground to cover here lmao i will try to keep them as short as i can... i also enjoy multiple versions of events and outcomes for the sequels as long as they’re in-character so i’m not trying to say no other version of the sequels is good or cool bc only a sith deals in absolutes amirite? (i won’t apologize for that dumb joke.) first the jumping-off points:

first of all, i fully support Force-sensitive Finn. even if he didn’t become a full-blown Jedi, if the entire concept of the Jedi was reforged and we don’t see him become the kind of Jedi we saw in the prequels (more on that later), i see him as someone who was attuned to the Force in a way that is similar to how i conceive of Barriss; empathetic to the suffering and joy of others. this would drive him to defect from the Empire and fear it, too. i also saw him becoming a reluctant leader for the rebellion, and there’s a GREAT fic which i’ll link here that riffs on the idea that he creates a spark within the stormtrooper ranks and more and more of them begin to defect... which i love

Rey being a nobody is cool to me. the ONE character moment where she became super relatable for me was when she realized how frightened she was of her own Force abilities. but i don’t think she has to be the legacy of Palps to have that. she doesn’t need supercharged powers to be spooked by them in a post-Jedi Order world where the most recent memory anybody has of the Force is Vader. (also Rey being a Kenobi seems more out of character for Obi-Wan than anything else lol he was pretty committed to the ways of the Order even after they were destroyed, plus he already had one kid to furtively watch over... just imo). this also ties into my expansion on the Force.

Poe being not a carbon copy of Han. i think Leia looked after him, found him somehow after she sent Ben to the Jedi Academy and was a motherly figure in his life. i like the idea that he was a little shit, and she’s the one who taught him to turn his reactive defiance of authority into bravery when fighting for the rebels. i think he looked up to her, wanted to be a leader like her. i saw him in the position of generals like Akbar by the end, as he learns to balance risk-taking with steady leadership. I wanted to see that growth, how those leaders are formed, see Leia get to impart her wisdom to someone. (also i fully support Finn/Poe and Finn/Rey/Poe, i’m not a committed shipper so i’m down with no romance at all between them but those ships are choice af and Stormpilot is all Oscar Isaac wanted anyway, so...) plus can u imagine the dichotomy of Ben the fallen son with Poe, the “adopted” son who became what Ben couldn’t? the guilt of Leia for not knowing how to teach her son about the Force, doing better half-raising a nobody who had the same shitty attitude as Han when they met but no Force ability? THIS IS JUICY CHARACTER CONTENT

Rose was given cheesy lines to introduce an important topic: that fighting is all well and good but throwing away your principles defeats the purpose of the fight in the first place (an important theme in the Clone Wars era, too.) she was there to be the voice of the truly little people in the gffa, who we don’t hear much about in the other trilogies. Finn’s sensitivity puts him at risk of the sorrow-to-hate arc i described for Barriss; Rose is there to be the empathy that sustains hope rather than becomes a crushing weight. i love the idea that she might rally volunteers from blue-collar places (like... Lothal, for example?) and spearhead the notion that the New Republic should be very different from the old one, calling out the fact that working conditions didn’t change with the shift from republic to empire and the First Order simply took it to an extreme that left her and her sister with nothing else to lose.

Ben Solo, hoo boy. so here’s the thing, we don’t KNOW Ben Solo. we were expected to want him to be redeemed because he was the son of Han and Leia, and that’s it. that’s lazy as fuck. him killing Han in the first movie (if it happened it should have been in movie #2, that’s how fucking second acts work) was an excuse to shock people, subvert the ‘i can’t kill my own father’ thing, and make sure we knew he was “evil” even though we’re supposed to also want a redemption arc? you have to read the Rise of Kylo Ren comics to learn that he was a) hounded by the voice of Snoke in his head from childhood, manipulated by it, which is horrific bc it’s like grooming... or b) that he felt HUGE pressure as a legacy Force-user to save the galaxy, lead the New Jedi Order, etc. these are much more empathy-generating and we should have learned them in TFA. echoes of Anakin much? which is why i think him being redeemed in a way other than self-sacrifice (which made sense for Vader given his long history of being a terrible person, knowing it was too late for him in the end, and really just wanting to save his son rather than “become good again”) is more interesting than him just falling (which is too much the same as the prequels.)

it should have been Finn’s call, a moment of Truth that held the balance of Finn as either falling prey to darkness or learning forgiveness, whether or not Kylo got redeemed. Finn and Rey working together to get to that point while Rose and Poe took on the military aspect of the Big Finale would have been great. Finn with a lightsaber to Kylo’s throat, feeling the temptation to murder him instead of making him face what he’s become in a meaningful way? Rey trying to urge him away from darkness as she’s been tempted before, but this is the first time Finn’s really been tested, and he was the one who so often reminded her of her own humanity? Rey calling up Rose’s point of creating a new paradigm instead of recreating the old one, of Poe’s growth or Leia’s willingness to take Ben back showing it’s possible? shiiiiiiit

the rest is going under a cut!

SO... given those things as a basis...

there being no scene where Force-ghost Anakin bops Kylo on the head (but you know, more subtly and with gorgeous metaphor ofc) was a travesty. we needed some version of that, also imo that reaffirms that Anakin was the chosen one... as him redirecting his grandson away from that path would be restoring hella balance

Snoke should have had his own fucked up backstory, if he was even there at all. a dark sider fucking with Ben Solo is reasonable to me, but Snoke could have been someone who looked up to Palps as much as Kylo supposedly looked up to Vader. that would have been interesting... maybe there are multiple “nobodies” who are being touched by the Force, just like there always were in the prequels era, but some are going dark with no Jedi to try to convince them otherwise? or, maybe Snoke’s life was ruined by the Empire and he chose to become the beast that harmed him, whereas Kylo becomes the version where you think you want to do that but then realize that it’s just as bad and you still have empathy and regret what you’ve done?

Thrawn being the main military antagonist, since they couldn’t be arsed to make Hux into anything but a sniveling baby fascist (despite his really upsetting backstory of an abusive father, also found in the comics... noticing a trend here?). Thrawn was already established and beloved in the legends. why would you not use him. whY?? he’s like a foil for Tarkin. contention between him and the Force-users in charge (Snoke and Kylo) would have been VERY interesting, esp with the character of Thrawn in the new canon seeing the Empire as a ‘necessary evil’ and now maybe having the potential to make it into something else? how’s JOINING WITH THE NEW REPUBLIC for a subversion of the classic tropes, Rian?????? you fucker????

if Thrawn’s history is “too storied” for a bunch of cowards to "fit” into a new movie trilogy, invent another antivillain to take Thrawn’s place whose history is a little more concurrent with the sequel era... you cowards

Luke fucking off after his failure isn’t out of character IMO. he was THE STRONGEST JEDI EVER and his star pupil still fell? maybe he broke under the same pressure Ben did. maybe that’s what allows him to reach back out towards Kylo and reconnect, admitting his failure. i want to hear more about him cutting himself off from the Force bc i LOVE KOTOR 2 and Kreia, but maybe that’s too much for one trilogy to delve into meaningfully, i dunno

Han fucking off after Ben wrecked the temple isn’t OOC either. i think Han was always a little frightened of the Force, the way many non-sensitives are. I think he was critical as a father, because he was critical of himself and Han is the king of projection. i wanted more of the dysfunctional relationship between him and Ben.

if Kylo kills Han, the scene needs to show more of the fact that Kylo actually regretted it, which Snoke only alludes to in TLJ, foreshadowing his future. i rewrote Han’s death scene for a friend and got a lot of good feedback about it so maybe i’ll post it here sometime. i can get behind a version where he doesn’t die, too, i just haven’t fleshed it out in my own head.

i like the idea that the Jedi Order needed to be remade, and that Luke saw the failure of the old order when he saw Ben turn like so many of the Jedi in the Order did. i like that Rey and Finn might spearhead this, and maybe Kylo’s role is to know the dark side intimately enough now that he can actually teach how it works, how to deal with it... how inevitable its temptation is. because...

in this canon, i don’t think the Force has light or darkness. i think it’s Force-users who do. it is their internal landscapes which cause them to “fall” or be redeemed or not, after all. Finn can attest to the same, so can Rey and Luke... so like, all the Jedi need DBT therapy or something i guess. lmao hold the dialectic, you nerds

the Force has shown time and time again that it cannot be “balanced” so maybe it is ourselves who need to become balanced instead

the Force is chaos, a never-ending series of colliding butterfly effects that to us will always and inevitably be seen as turmoil, cause and effect on a cosmic scale. if you drink too greedily of its power, or try to exert total control over it, by its nature it will consume you because it is beyond your mortal ken. whatever you hunger for, the force will give you more and more of it until you are overwhelmed, drowning in it

this is why peace was a central teaching of the Jedi... peace, the antithesis of chaos, which can only ever be created from within, the eye of the storm which must be sought time and time again

anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk? i’m always down to hear other people’s ideas for these characters tbh. and always down to get more into these topics if you want to know more... esp as it relates to the failure of the Jedi Order, or KOTOR 2 and Revan and Kreia, or OF COURSE my OCs because Sol has a very interesting relationship with the Force.

thank you for this ask lordimperius!! ^_^

#star wars sequels #this got way deeper into my meta than i meant for it to but i can't help it #my headcanons #asks #if you read all of this or even most of it you're an actual angel

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fucking-zawa-sensei · 5 years ago

Text

Another Word for Family - erasermic

Title: Another Word for Family

Rating: M

Pairing: erasermic

Word Count: 10k+

Summary:

Shouta would never forget the way she’d whispered, in a voice that made it sound like she was on the verge of breaking apart from the inside out, face pressed into Shouta’s shoulder, thank you.

The words were haunting, as if she’d never expected to be saved, as if she never thought they’d keep her, as if she was still down there, in those dark labs, arms covered in bandages, being torn apart.

Notes: A fic for the lovely @corndog-patrol for our server’s giftswap, who probably had no idea that I would somehow combine all of their prompts (1. Sexiest Mic Ever, 2. Dadmic with Eri, and 3. Erasermic formal wear) into one fic. I know you said no rats or you would scream, but there’s no way I could resist that. Please don’t yeet this into the void before giving it a chance, lmao. Love you!

Read the full fic on AO3 here

Another Word for Family

“She seems upset.”

Shouta’s thumb slips where he’s feeding his baby blue silk tie through its knot. He licks his bottom lip, tasting a bit of mango from the chapstick Hizashi had less than subtly thrust his way once he’d stepped out of the bathroom, the blond’s palm scrubbing over his freshly shaven face. Hizashi had said, “Soft…” before sliding the pad of his pointer finger across Shouta’s mouth, and continuing with, “Unlike other things.”

Now, he turns around, pulling the tie through and smoothing it down against his dress shirt. Hizashi is standing facing the full length mirror, eyebrows pulled together in contemplation, green eyes shining more than usual with the thin line of glimmering gold eyeliner penciled along his upper lid. They’re downcast, though, seemingly staring at his equally metallic oxford shoes.

The last time he’d worn them, Hizashi’s face had been dimpled by his stretched grin, eyes curved up in little crescents, happily tapping the hard soles against the wooden floor of their living room. It had been their anniversary, and Shouta had decided that while he may have said he hated the shoes when his husband practically pressed his face against the display window in the mall, he quite loved the way Hizashi’s smile seemed to inch larger and larger each time his feet skipped across the floor.

That was the thing about being in a relationship, something Shouta quickly learned the first time he felt himself falling in love with the other man, it wasn’t about you anymore.

Humans are inherently selfish, but Shouta would give Hizashi everything he had, and when he had nothing left, he’d go find more just for him, all for him.

Shouta walks across the room, coming up behind his half-dressed husband, Hizashi’s shirt still hanging on the back of their closet door, along with at least seven other options. It’s times like these Shouta is happy he only has about three suits, and that his hero work bulked him up enough that formal wear was one aspect of Hizashi’s closet he couldn’t really slip into with the blond’s penchant for wearing everything very tight.

Shouta slips his hands through the space between Hizashi’s arms, pulling the other man against his chest as he rests his chin on the blond’s bare shoulder. His palms go to Hizashi’s lightly fuzzed stomach, stroking over the soft skin.

Maybe he couldn’t fit into Hizashi’s clothes like he could in college, but he sure as hell had plenty of fun appreciating the way they looked on his husband’s body.

One of Hizashi’s hands comes overtop his, and the other reaches up to stroke through Shouta’s hair.

“Who is upset?” Shouta asks. “Right now, it looks like you.”

Hizashi snorts lightly, a forced, sarcastic laugh. He sighs out heavily afterward.

“Eri.”

Shouta’s teasing smile drops off his face, his body straightening up to look at Hizashi in the mirror.

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

It had been a little over two months that the girl had been living with them as an official member of their family. Before that, she’d been living at the dorm, hospitals, and being traded around between the teachers. She certainly spent a fair amount of time at Shouta and Hizashi’s house, but never permanently, never as part of their household, not really. It took a lot of paper work and house visits, and more than one very difficult meeting with the adoption representatives in which they discussed the morbid possibilities of their chosen professions, but they’d finally adopted Eri.

Shouta would never forget the way her eyes spilled over with tears, the way her cheeks flushed red with joy as she laughed and smiled and hugged them both with a grip tighter than he knew was possible from a girl her age.

He’d never forget the way she’d whispered, in a voice that made it sound like she was on the verge of breaking apart from the inside out, face pressed into Shouta’s shoulder, thank you. The words were haunting, as if she’d never expected to be saved, as if she never thought they’d keep her, as if she was still down there, in those dark labs, arms covered in bandages, being torn apart.

In that moment, he’d looked to Hizashi and saw a harsh determination in those eyes. It was one he hadn’t seen since the man was a boy, shorter, lankier, face shoved into the pavement, speaker prototype crushed beside him, staring at Shouta from across the alleyway where their first internship experience had gone more than a little bit wrong.

I’ll get us out of here, he’d promised, blood spilling out of the corner of his mouth, mixing with the gravel.

He did.

Shouta didn’t have to voice his thoughts, 10 years of marriage made silent communication easy.

We’re not done rescuing, he’d thought. We still have to save her.

Hizashi’s eyes bore into his, answered, we will.

Shouta sighs, steps back from Hizashi, using his hands on the other man’s stomach to turn him around. Hizashi looks sadly up at him from beneath his long lashes.

“I know,” Shouta admits. “Some days are good...but…”

“More days are bad,” Hizashi finishes. “Anymore, at least.”

“She seems to be getting more distant again, like she was when we first took her from Overhaul. I thought she warmed up so much...I don’t know why she’s reverting…”

Hizashi shakes his head, stepping around Shouta to sit on the bed. He lightly clicks the toes of his shoes together, a sad half smile flicking onto his face for a moment.

“Do...do you think it’s us? Or…”

Shouta narrows his eyes, assessing the slump to Hizashi’s shoulders, the way his arms are held tighter against his sides than usual. Everything about him screams defeated, insecure.

“Or what?” Shouta prods, already knowing the answer.

“Is it me?”

Shouta opens his mouth, rebuttals piling up inside his throat one after another, but Hizashi holds up his hand and closes his eyes.

“I just...I know I’m not doing anything wrong. I know. I don’t mean that I think she hates me or something, but she doesn’t seem comfortable with me the way she is with you. Her face lights up when you come home...she wants you to read her stories...she brings her drawings to you first. It’s just…obvious she prefers you.”

“That’s not…” Shouta shakes his head. “That’s just because I was on the rescue mission. She prefers Midoriya to the other students as well because he saved her. That has nothing to do with who you are...it will fade.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just wish I could make her feel safe and happy.”

“You do.”

Hizashi opens his eyes and gives Shouta a soft smile, but it doesn’t feel confident.

“I just worry that the reason she’s becoming more distant is because you’ve started picking up more patrols and I’m home more than you now. Maybe she just doesn’t feel comfortable with me.”

“That comes with time,” Shouta insists, sitting down on the bed beside Hizashi. He reaches a hand over to grab Hizashi’s hand, squeezing gently.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to not warm up to you,” Shouta says. “I certainly did, and believe me, I tried very hard to ignore you.”

Hizashi laughs, a genuine, rich, charming noise. It makes Shouta’s heart pick up a bit, makes his skin feel a little warmer, relaxing into the sound.

“I’m serious,” Shouta says, leaning over to kiss Hizashi’s cheek. “Even if she’s still a little guarded around you, it will go away. She has a home now, for the first time, and that’s going to take some getting used to. Having people around her constantly, having someone excited to see her, interested in what she’s doing, that’s all foreign to her. I’m...calmer...you know? It’s easier for her to relate to.”

“Are you telling me I have to be quiet, is that it?” Hizashi’s pout is over the top, exaggerated in a way that lets Shouta know he’s kidding, teasing, that Shouta’s words are making him feel more like himself again.

“Well, a little quiet couldn’t hurt,” Shouta jokes back, sliding his hand around Hizashi’s back to place it on the blond’s still bare hip. He pulls Hizashi toward him, into a half hug.

“We’re a family. It’s not about you or me. It’s about us. All of us. If she’s sad, that’s on both of us. We’ll help her, we’ll fix it. She’s still recovering and it’s our job to make sure we do whatever we can to help that process be as painless as possible,” Shouta says, rubbing his thumb into Hizashi’s side soothingly. “But we’re all recovering. So it’s okay for you to have off days too.”

Shouta knows this part is important, makes sure Hizashi’s eyes are focused on him when he says it, because the other man had a tendency to put everyone else’s needs before his own in a way that sometimes became unhealthy. He also had an insane ability to manifest self-guilt out of seemingly nowhere, over seemingly nothing.

“She loves you.”

“I know,” Hizashi says, and his voice is confident, clear. A smile sits comfortably upon his face and Shouta feels himself exhale.

“Okay, now are you going to let me go to this fancy award show of yours with my hair the way I want it or are you-”

“No way! I’m doing it!” Hizashi jumps up, his energy rebounding spectacularly.

Shouta sighs, but it’s fake, and the quirk to his lips makes that plenty clear as Hizashi runs to the bathroom to grab a brush and some hairbands.

He leans back on his elbows, staring up at the ceiling with a half-smile on his face, listening to the sounds of his husband rummaging around in the drawers.

Slowly, though, his smile drops off as his mind wanders to Eri. Was she doing alright getting ready? She’d insisted on picking out her own clothes, but had hesitantly agreed to allow Hizashi to do her hair as well. Shouta bites at his lower lip.

Hizashi had been doing her hair since before they’d adopted her. Some days she’d practically skip over to him in the teacher’s lounge with a hand full of colorful clips and bobbles that one of the students had bought her.

So why had she looked so unsure of herself when they’d offered to help her get ready for the event tonight?

The door to the bathroom swings back open and Shouta is torn from his thoughts, watching as Hizashi approaches with a smile and a bottle of hairspray.

“No, no, no, none of that!” Shouta protests, sitting back up, glaring at the metal spray can.

“But it’s humid today! They’re taking pictures outside when we arrive!” Hizashi defends as he sits down on the bed again.

“I don’t care. That stuff is so hard to get out.”

“I’ll get it out for you!”

Shouta raises his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Hizashi says, smirk on his face, as he drops his voice lower. He leans close, chest pressed against Shouta’s upper arm and shoulder as he whispers into his ear. “I’ll lather it up real good, my hands massaging your scalp, sliding through your hair, then down your neck, your back, your-”

“Okay, okay-” Shouta gasps, pushing Hizashi away. “Save it for later. We’re running out of time.”

Hizashi laughs, sitting back a bit. “Since when do you care about being on time to these things?”

Shouta looks away, to their slightly cracked bedroom door and the hallway beyond it.

Since Eri.

“I just want to get this over with,” he says instead, not wanting to let Hizashi know he shares the other man’s concerns about their new daughter’s emotional state.

“Fine, fine,” Hizashi says and begins brushing out the tangles in Shouta’s hair. “I’ll make this quick.”

Shouta leans into the touch, closing his eyes. As tense as he was feeling right now, this was always relaxing. Hizashi had an amazing, gentle nature.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up being lulled to sleep like this.

Then we’d never make it to the award show, he thinks.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Read the rest of the fic here

#erasermic fanfiction #erasermic #maizawa #eraserhead #present mic #yamada hizashi #aizawa shouta #eri #bnha #mha

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vesuvianoak · 5 years ago

Text

Queries – Love Like Yours Fest Day VI – Consul Valerius x Ąžuolas

Title: Queries Author: Vesuvian Oak Fandom / Setting: The Arcana Characters / Pairings: Consul Valerius x Ąžuolas Tobeluk, Nadia Satrinava x Lyra Nguyen Word Count: 1473 Rating: T+ Warnings / Notes: Spoilers for Nadia's Route; Written for Day VI of @lovelikeyoursfest – Nothing Can Harm You; Lyra borrowed with permission of @magicianapprenticelyra Summary: Investigations in Lucio's resurrection bring Nadia and her allies to the realm of the Hierophant, where they find an unexpected familiar face.

This fic is WLW / MLM solidarity and you know the one couple is totally inviting the other to their respective wedding lmao

"Countess. Director. Magician."

It's hardly the first time any of them have been on the receiving end of one of Valerius' cool greetings, but for a moment, it's almost as if he's a stranger—no… Not quite a stranger—his visage, his entire appearance, is so twisted as to make him look like the inhabitant of a bad dream. The trio found him as if midway through some transformation—his normally angular features had become… sharper, an illusion that the gray fur spread over his body did and a spiral horn that would have been impressive on a proper ram but was terrifying on a man little to dispel. Surrounding him, as if he was the centerpiece of a macabre display, were gilded, bejewelled, skeletal remains of stars only knew whom.

Valerius lifted a hand—a claw, they collectively realized—sipping almost leisurely from a crystalline goblet filled with coal black ichor. Lyra's hand, almost instinctively, sought Nadia's; Ąžuolas' hands bunched nervously in the silk scarf of his costume.

Nadia, for her part, merely levelled a cool gaze of her own on him as Ąžuolas and Lyra edged out from behind her. "Valerius. How… unexpected. And what, exactly, are you doing here?"

Where Nadia's words were level, Valerius' were edged in disdain. "What am I doing here," he echoed, "in my estate that you so graciously confined me to?" He arched an eyebrow, looking down his nose at the trio. "Who knows? Perhaps I'm plotting a new revolution to depose you."

"At least his pride is in one piece," Ąžuolas mumbled, gaze averted as the words earned a swat on the arm from Lyra.

Nadia's gaze darts, subtly, from Valerius to Ąžuolas to Lyra, opening the floor to their counsel, to a suggestion, to anything—

"That's actually why we're here," Lyra announced, reaching into her shoulder bag and withdrawing a sheaf of parchment and a stylus. "We wanted to ask you a few questions."

Ąžuolas and Nadia caught each other's gaze. If that was what it took… "Yes—" Nadia caught on easily, and leaned into the ruse. "Valerius, were I a lesser woman, my feelings would no doubt be hurt by your behavior—accusing me of murder in front of the whole city? Especially when you knew I was not guilty?"

"And it's not exactly a secret you never gave a half a damn about Lucio yourself," Ąžuolas added.

"What could you possibly have hoped to accomplish?" Nadia asked. Beside her, Lyra stood with her stylus at the ready, as if taking notes for the "interrogation."

Valerius' expression tightened behind his wind glass. "The hope had been to stop you from ruining Vesuvia any more than you already have."

Valerius is at his most honest when he is being judgmental, Nadia had said once—and the brutal honesty of the statement almost knocked the three to the floor. "I beg your pardon?" A slight edge had crept into Nadia's voice. "I was, and still am, trying to fix Vesuvia—"

Valerius takes a single step forward, something almost venomous in his eyes, his teeth bared. Despite being several inches shorter than both Nadia and the consul, Ąžuolas stepped between Lyra and Nadia and Valerius, his chin lifted as if challenging him and his expression just as hard.

His presence made little difference to Valerius, and when he spoke, it was little more than a growl. "You would see every institution in Vesuvia crumble. You come here, talking of changing our traditions—the very foundation—"

In his white-hot anger, his grip was such that the crystal in his hand shattered, dark ichor splashing on the dusty stones at their feet and shards of crystal embedding themselves into his hand. Expression almost disdainful, he turned his hand to consider the wound before pulling the biggest piece out of his palm; dark red blood welled from the cut, a thin rivulet of it oozing down his arm and soaking into the fur there.

"Nadia, this is bad," Lyra murmured, stuffing the parchment and her stylus back in her bag, her hand seeking out Nadia's once more.

As Nadia gently squeezed the director's hand, Ąžuolas reached into his longcoat's inner pocket and withdrew the tarot deck. Normally, cards would call to him or make themselves known; now, as he drew the top card from the deck, it was maddeningly, frighteningly silent. "Nadia, look—" He flipped the card so that Nadia and Lyra could see it as well. The card was still marked V, but the image of the Hierophant—the true Hierophant—was gone.

"What does that mean?" Lyra breathed.

"I think… he's—" Ąžuolas' gaze flicked from the card to Valerius and back again before he returned the card to the deck, and then the deck to his pocket—"going to become the Hierophant."

"Valerius, can you not see what you have become?" Nadia appealed.

"What have I become?" he echoed, voice dripping with disdain. "The only person in Vesuvia willing to take a stand? The only one with any sense in this godforsaken city?"

"How can you say that?" Lyra asked, bristling at the sharp words.

Nadia's lips were pressed into a thin line as she turned her attention to Ąžuolas. "You're a skilled magician, Ąžuolas—what can you tell us?"

"The Devil's chains," Ąžuolas murmured, tugging off his scarf, the mother of pearl discs on the ends clicking together. "He's bound tighter than a drum—"

"How can he not see it?" Lyra pressed.

"I don't know," Ąžuolas admitted, "but… Nadia, with your blessing, I think I know what I can do to fix it."

The countess nodded her permission. Ąžuolas steps forward almost lightly, mukluks soundless on the stone, to reach out and lay a hand almost gently on Valerius' elbow. At first, he jerked away as though Ąžuolas' touch burned, turning his ire on the magician. "What are you—"

The realization seemed to come to him suddenly, and he bristled, all of his fur standing on end as if he was uncomfortable in his own skin. "What… what's happening to me?" His gaze fell on Ąžuolas, who was still holding out a hand to him. "What am I?"

Keeping his expression carefully neutral, Ąžuolas took his hand, still bleeding from the wound on his palm, and began wrapping it with the silk scarf. "When did the Devil first come to you?" he asked, voice soft but free of judgment.

He seemed to reel back at the question. "It's true, then…"

"Care to elaborate on that?" Ąžuolas prompted, looking up from the wrappings.

Valerius swallowed hard, and Ąžuolas could feel his hand trembling as he wrapped it. "Three years ago," he admitted, "in a dream—I was about to become acting ruler of Vesuvia, and… I was scared. Inheriting a city on the verge of collapse—I couldn't even be sure they would accept my rule."

"So you made a deal," Ąžuolas finished.

"Deals," he admitted. "Little concessions here and there… It became easier over time."

"Why on earth would you think that was a good idea?!" Nadia asked, appropriately horrified.

"To bring about order!" he snapped, immediately defensive. "To have structure!"

"Poor people in the city starved!" Lyra argued. "Their homes are flooded!"

"My apologies, Director Nguyen—" Valerius' voice dripped with venom as he leveled his gaze first on Lyra, then on Nadia. "We can't all be perfect like Princess Satrinava, can we?"

Ąžuolas tried to insert himself between his friend and her beloved and the Consul. In doing so, he was able to watch as the corruption started to spread, swallowing up more of his physical and emotional humanity—and then, barely there, a hint of one of the chains binding him. "Wait—everybody stop, please!"

He paused, swallowing hard before lifting his hands and risking cradling Valerius' face. "Consul—Valerius… Look at what you've become—you're barely human anymore. You could lose yourself completely."

The fire in him was gone now, and after a moment, he leaned his head against Ąžuolas' touch. "I… I don't think I was always like this," he murmured.

"Your personality has always been a bit… trying," Nadia confirmed, the words honest, but delicate, "but no, you were not always this cruel." Beside her, Lyra nodded in agreement. "Luckily for you, you still have a chance for redemption."

Valerius gaze refocused—from a distant point on the horizon, to Nadia, then Lyra, and finally Ąžuolas. "…How?"

"It's customary to ask for help," Ąžuolas prompted.

He swallows hard, conflict playing out on his face. When he speaks, the words come uncharacteristically slow. "I'm… scared—and I do not want to be like this." He reached up with both hands and clasped at Ąžuolas' like he was a lifeline. "Please… help me."

Ąžuolas smiles, the expression warm and bracing, as he deftly finishes wrapping his wounded hand. "To be quite honest—" He lifts Valerius hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses to the backs of his fingers—"I thought you'd never ask."

#lovelikeyours2020 #valerius x apprentice #consul valerius #arcana valerius #the arcana valerius #valerius x mc #valerius x azuolas #vynas | Consul Valerius #draugai | other apprentices

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ckret2 · 5 years ago

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would you mind explaining "Careless whisper" "I will always love you" and "Friend please"? no pressure though!

Oh god you chose two of the meme-iest songs! Both in one post! I can’t believe it!

Okay.

This took me forever to write because I wrote half of it and then got distracted for weeks and didn’t get back to it until I got a fresh ask today with some more songs and I was like, crap, I should finish this one.

So the first three paragraphs in this post still apply here, I’m not gonna copy paste them, go read those paragraphs if you haven’t yet. tl;dr i’m answering questions about why i included songs on my radiosnake spotify playlist because i like rambling for thousands of words at a time, also the playlist is based on a fic i wrote.

Feel free to keep sending me questions about more songs on the playlist. Explanations under the read more, assuming the read more works, which I make no guarantee of because this is tumblr.

Careless Whisper (Lyrics)

… except, the jazzy version.

So lemme tell you a story about how “Careless Whisper” came up and then I’ll explain why it actually belongs on the playlist.

The only way I can outline a story is by sitting down with another person and rambling the plotline at them, copy pasting it into another document, and bam that’s an outline.

Right now, in the disjointed process of outlining a sequel to Cold Day In Hell, I’m sort of chunking random ideas at a couple friends to see what sticks. One idea is that, when Alastor is drunk, he’s 90% worse at pretending he totally doesn’t care about Sir Pentious at all. If they’re ever drunk at the same social event, he will subtly (not subtly at all) follow him around all night like a puppy and hang on to his every word, automatically playing this sort of nonsense in the background.

One of my friends announced sadness that it didn’t start off with “Careless Whisper,” so I checked Postmodern Jukebox (the fastest/easiest/most common way to translate a modern song into Alastor Aesthetic) to see if they had made a jazz cover (they had), and I reassured my friend that the PMH cover definitely played every second song while drunk!Alastor was mooning over (and/or looming over) Sir Pentious.

And then I went oh goddammit the lyrics actually fit, dammit, now I’ve gotta put it on the playlist.

So I put it on the playlist.

Here’s the great thing about song lyrics. Even if everyone knows that the lyrics mean one thing, language is inherently ambiguous and you can totally just decide to read the lyrics a slightly different way if you really really want to and the exact wording doesn’t make it impossible. Everyone KNOWS that “Careless Whisper” is about cheating, but it never SAYS it’s about cheating (like, it says “cheat a friend,” but like the singer could’ve cheated their friend at cards? it doesn’t say), so you can just decide that it’s about any other kind of betrayal in a relationship! Like, say, blowing up your ally’s steampunk airship fleet. The song never says it ISN’T about a steampunk airship fleet.

So let’s just establish right now that this song is no longer about cheating. That’s out the window.

In the original song, “dancing” is probably intended as a metaphor for having sex. In THIS context, it is literally dancing. The emotional core of CDIH, the moment around which the rest of the story rotates, is the night that Alastor and Sir Pentious dance together. And although Alastor no doubt dances plenty of times after leaving Sir Pent, he’s certainly never going to dance like that again—like he’s with a lover, like he wants to be touching his dance partner, rather than either alone or while distastefully putting up with physical contact with someone who doesn’t matter to him.

The interpretation of the line “careless whispers of a good friend” that I think is probably Most Common is that a friend of the singer’s lover warned the lover that the singer is cheating on them, and the singer thinks that the fact that the lover now knows is worse than not knowing at all, because now that the lover knows they can never go back to normal, hence why the friend was being careless. Aside from any questions of, like, whether or not that’s a sound opinion at all—I’ve always interpreted that line differently. Since the singer refers to their lover as a “friend” (“should have known better than to cheat a friend”), I’ve always assumed that the singer would refer to themself as their lover’s friend, and so the “careless whispers of a good friend” were the whispers that the singer themself made that started whatever affair it is they had.

And so that assumption—that the “good friend” that said something they shouldn’t have is the singer—is the interpretation I’m carrying into the song’s inclusion in the playlist. In this case, it’s Alastor’s decision to lie to Sir Pent about how he feels about him (claiming that he never cared & that he was just screwing around with his emotions) before running off that are the “careless whispers” because, although not exactly whispery, they do have the same effect as in the song: ever since he said them, there’s been an unmendable rift between Alastor and Sir Pent (which was, like, his objective, but he’s still not happy about it)—and, more than that, it was very careless. Alastor had intended for his actions to just push Sir Pent away, not to effectively ruin Sir Pent’s ambitions to rule hell completely. But, that’s what happened. Because he didn’t think anything through. He just said and did the very first things he could think of to push Sir Pent away. Extremely careless.

And, of course, the specific version that got included was chosen because it sounds jazzy. Yay for PMJ, making all sorts of songs Alastor-ready.

I Will Always Love You (Lyrics)

… except, the super dark version.

So I figured out at some point that the easiest way I was gonna find Alastor music was through jazz-style covers of songs a la Postmodern Jukebox, 1) because PMJ has been actually mentioned as among the limited varieties of modern music that Alastor would listen to by virtue of the fact that they do covers that sound like what he used to listen to, and 2) because Puff here isn’t actually a fan of jazz and it’s a lot easier for me to slowly wade into the water via jazzy covers of songs I already know than it is for me to fling myself into the deep end like “appreciate Jelly Roll Morton! Appreciate Jelly Roll Morton NOW!!!”

(I am slowly and laboriously training myself to be a fan of jazz, because Alastor is a RADIO HOST from NEW ORLEANS in the ROARING TWENTIES AND A LITTLE BIT OF THE THIRTIES, i will NOT be writing him while in complete ignorance of a subject that probably occupied a huge portion of his life.)

So due to the fact that I was looking for PMJ-esque genre-switching covers of songs, I drifted over to other genre-switching song cover acts like Chase Holfelder to go through the songs and go “hm wonder of any of these work." This song is an exception to the genres I’m looking for for Alastor, but it still makes the list because like, the vibe is just right.

Have y'all ever actually listened to/read the lyrics to "I Will Always Love You” before? Not just the AAAND IIIIIIIII-IIII-IIIIIII WILL ALWAAAYS LOVE YOOOOO-OO-OOOU bit but the actual lyrics. They’re sad. The lyrics are “I deeply love you but if I stayed with you I would only hold you back so i’m going to leave you because it’s for the best but i’m super sad about it and i always will be.”

Now, that doesn’t 100% line up with Alastor’s situation. Because, like, obviously, he was doing the exact opposite of holding Sir Pent back when they were together, and fearing holding Sir Pent back was not the reason he left.

But it is among the reasons he avoids the hell out of him now. The primary reasons, of course, are still “being in love is scary and i do not want to do that so maybe if i avoid him i can continue pretending that i am not in love?” and “lmao he justifiably hates me now so why try"—but #3 on his list is the recognition that, since they broke up, Alastor’s actions have caused a constant cascade of events that have held Sir Pent back ever since. (And Alastor also suspects that there might actually be some kind of legitimate curse or fate or something going on here—that part of Alastor’s role in hell is playing the part of Sir Pent’s personal hellish divine punishment.) So he didn’t leave because he’s sabotaging Sir Pent’s ambitions; but he sabotaged Sir Pent’s ambitions because he left.

And therefore, as a consequence, he should stay away from Sir Pent now. He shouldn’t beg forgiveness and a second chance—because he doesn’t deserve them, and because he might make it worse.

This particular cover of the song really kicks the anguish up into high gear. The most common Whitney Houston version is like, okay she’s brokenhearted, but also somehow somewhat empowered by the brokenheartedness—like even though she’s leaving sad and bitter, in her heart she knows that the decision she’s making is for the best for her beloved, and she can draw strength from that. There is no drawing strength from the decision in the Chase Holfelder version—just using it up. It’s like he’s burning through all of his reserves of strength to push his loved one away. When Whitney hits the big note, she’s pulling power into herself to belt that out. When Chase hits the big note, he’s pouring out every last bit of power left inside his body. You can imagine Whitney walking away from this song with her head held high and her back straight but Chase is just gonna collapse to his knees with his shoulders hunched and head bowed—completely empty, a husk. That’s the vibe I want with Alastor—that every single day of his self-imposed exile he’s losing a little piece of himself, hollowing himself out. He can’t draw strength from it.

Typically, when I’m picking songs for this playlist, I don’t pay much attention to the gender of the singer (my only main priority on this playlist is that by the time it’s done I want the genders of the singers to be roughly balanced on both Sir Pent’s part and Alastor’s part), but in this case I think the fact that the singer is male contributes to it working for Alastor the way another version with a female singer wouldn’t. Not entirely sure why—maybe because, even though the voice doesn’t sound anything like his, it’s easier to actively imagine Alastor singing the song when it’s got a male voice? Maybe because, thanks to Sexism In Society, a woman saying "I’m leaving you because I’d get in the way of your dreams” more easily comes across as “Oh… I am simply not good enough for you… I’d hold you back…” while a man saying “I’m leaving you because I’d get in the way of your dreams” more easily comes across as “I wouldn’t hold you back, I’d push you down. I’m dangerous for you.” And the latter fits Alastor better.

(But hey, if any of you know of any versions of “I Will Always Love You” with a female singer that makes her sound dangerous as hell, feel free to recommend them to me. Not because I’m looking to replace the version I’ve already got but just because I’d really like to hear it.)

Currently, it’s listed as the last song on the Alastor portion of the playlist. I recently reorganized it so that the Sir Pent portions and Alastor portions each flow from the shallowest/most surface emotions down to the deeper/truer/more hidden emotions, and even before I did that reorganization, “I Will Always Love You” has been the closing song on Alastor’s side since it was added to the playlist. That feels like the right note to leave it on: after everything else has been said, once every other layer and lie has been stripped away, the deepest and truest and last thing Alastor would have to say to Sir Pent is “I hope life treats you kind and I hope you have all you’ve dreamed of” and an anguished screaming declaration of love.

Friend Please https://genius.com/Twenty-one-pilots-friend-please-lyrics

So remember when I said that language is inherently ambiguous and if you want you can totally just choose to read words differently if the wording doesn’t actually prevent that interpretation? This song is clearly about suicide. I have decided for the purposes of this playlist it is not about suicide anymore! It’s still about depression but not about suicide! When the singer was like “Please don’t take your life away from me” what he meant is “Please don’t take your life, and also, I am emphasizing that if you do so you are removing yourself from my life to try to show you how much you mean to me,” but how I have decided to interpret it for this playlist is “literally do not remove your life from my life, as in, like, don’t run away and stop talking to me.”

So. As I mentioned in my last song meta post, there’s sort of two—not genres, but like, musical aesthetics that I’m drawing from for Sir Pent: Victorian-ish/steampunk-ish sounds, and emo stuff because Vivz said that’s what he actually listens to. Twenty One Pilots fits the criteria for emo for me—idk and idc if other people consider them emo, they toured with Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco, they count as far as I’m concerned—so they’re actually among the bands I’ve been intending to specifically look at for potential Sir Pent Songs.

For the most part, they’re, like, too good at the sad millennial vibe. But that song works.

“Friend, Please” comes low on Sir Pent’s portion because it’s deep in the more genuine emotions—I’ve actually considered putting it last and may still do so, it would make a nice counterpoint to “I Will Always Love You"—actually I’m gonna go do that, gonna go shuffle the playlist, there, good—and it’s also something that he couldn’t/wouldn’t say until after he knows about Alastor’s deep thoughts. Reinterpreted so that it’s not about suicide, it becomes about a friend who’s still depressed, but the focus of the song becomes about the friend’s self-isolation—a self-isolation that’s fueled by denial and self-delusion, the friend convincing themself that they’re alone, always will be, and can’t/won’t have anyone else in their life again that they can depend upon.

Which, although he doesn’t necessarily seem to be depressed, is certainly the vibe Alastor gives off in the show—that despite his overly-friendly overly-familiar attitude, he probably keeps everyone else at a great emotional distance. In canon he might be okay with that. In fic, he’s doing that at the expense of pushing away a person he loves very much—and then pushing away anyone that could help him cope with that loss. Leaving him very alone and perpetually disguising himself as fine with that. Maybe, when he can go years without having to see Sir Pent, he can be fine with that.

But I have Big Plans for that sequel and you know item #1 on the list is "stick Alastor and Sir Pent in a position where they’ll have to cross paths all the time so that it’s like threading a giant needle with barbed wire, stabbing the needle into Alastor’s heart, and slowly dragging the barbed wire straight through.”

And after that? Living like a ghost, claiming he’s fine when he’s been completely emotionally drained, is gonna be a pretty accurate description of his mental state.

Right now, Sir Pent is in no way close enough to Alastor to know that—and in no way sympathetic enough toward him to care even if he did know. He still hates Alastor for completely ruining his life. But there’s still that part of him that used to care about Alastor and still could come to care about him again. And if that part gets revived, and if he gets close enough to Alastor to see how miserable he’s made himself by trying to push everyone away and denying that he’s pushed his own mental state into as bad a state as it’s currently in, his reaction would be “you absolute dumbass” followed by trying to shout some sense into Alastor by pointing out that every one of his problems is caused not by external factors, but by his own damn screwed-up perception of the world. Like, every one of his problems he made himself, and he can unmake them. He’s just got to uncover his eyes first.

It’s easy for fandom to just, like, characterize Sir Pent as an all-around dumbass—strategically, socially, emotionally, etc. Until and unless we see otherwise—and see it so firmly that even I can’t find ways to headcanon around it, and believe you me, I can headcanon my way around a lot of things—I choose to believe that the only areas he’s definitely a dumbass in are “understanding modern slang” and “remembering NOT to charge into battle without considering the odds the second he sees somebody he hates.” This means that I like to believe he also has a reasonable level of emotional intelligence, and a healthy level of compassion that he can deploy, when he so chooses, on someone he considers worthy of that compassion. He’s evil, yes, but self-professed evil, which means self-aware evil; which means that even though there’s gotta be something fucked up with his worldview for him to choose to be evil, it is a choice he’s making, not something he’s doing specifically because he believes it’s right/necessary. And he can turn it off when he decides he’s with someone that deserves it.

Now, is Alastor on that list? Not currently, hell no. But there’s potential for him to make it on the list—that potential for Sir Pent to care about him again, to want to see him throw off the things that he’s using to hold himself back, to want to see him become better and happier, to want him back in Sir Pent’s life—buried somewhere deep beneath Sir Pent’s burned emotions and decades of resentment.

#(i've got asks for five and a half other songs on the playlist)#(i'll get to them uhhh... soonish)#mementomori #ask #music #about my writing #(sorta?? my writing comes up)#meta #hazbin hotel #headcanons #radiosnake

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secretagentspydetectiveninja · 5 years ago

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hey so remember like last year when i was re-reading misadventures and fixing typos? (well, i say that, but it was just an excuse to re-read it and write some absolutely absurd commentary on it...) i found old notes in my phone from january with even more so guess i may as well post it because people seemed to find it funny at the time, it’s basically just The Misadventures of Aish Realizing Things though

[yeah so here’s the original notes i’m not even gonna change anything even though lots of Lore has happened in the show and we Know things now, you just get to see what january aish typed]

ok well let’s go then chapters 31-35 oh god

oh yeah the ML Blackout! I remember that

hm it’s occurring to me maaaaaybe I should post a bit of a warning on this chapter. like “yes this starts off stupid and cracky and fluffy but takes a complete 180 in the middle and you will end up sobbing.”

or maybe I should put that as a disclaimer on the whole fic cause it’s one hell of a ride

THE AROACE SCIENCE JOURNAL YESSSSSSS THAT COMES BACK LATER

yeah the reason why the early parts of this chapter are very lighthearted is honestly because the fic was getting a bit too bleak, I needed something cheerful, so paper planes and arm wrestles it was

wait... isn’t this just that scene from Anansi??? where like Nora challenges Nino to an arm wrestle but then he wins because Someone Else Nearby Did A Thing

also this is Peak characterization, damn Aish, you rly outdone yourself, congration

any time I drop the word “inkling” into a fic it is always 100% a splatoon reference

MAX WOW TONE DOWN THE GAY

heh... BI-ceps...

oh my godddd Max trying to play off his ogling as “ah yes I am scientifically studying Kim’s arm muscles ofc, it’s science I swear” is SO frickin funny I’m already losing it

Alix: “scientifically speaking I’m hot therefore you have to lose this arm wrestle” hshdhdghshskkjkdhshs

^literally the kind of nonsense every single teen I know spouts irl

including me when I was a teen, I just said things

(I still just say things)

you can’t bring up the sports bra thing goddammit, I agree it’s cheating because it has the power to one-hit kill anyone in the vicinity

I love how Max thinks his crush on Kim is “under control” while like. visibly swooning over him

OH MY GOD THE PILLOWS SHHDJDHDHDHSKHS

OKAY SO LIKE I was supposed to put the thing about Kim snogging a pillow in chapter 20 but I forgot or something and then I just had to get it in somehow, oh it kills me dead just thinking about it, I’m dying, I’m dead

and the fact that he admits to it as well, holy moly

KIM

K I M

THAT’S GAY

OH WOW

this is the moment when Alix’s Kimax shipper heart was suddenly feeling validated like “omg wait Kim DOES like Max??? like for real??????”

awwwww Kim, Max doesn’t have those kind of superpowers, you just have a crush on him that’s all <3

THE SKATEBOARDING SNEK!!!!!!!!!!!!

“What the heck is that?” “My snake.” DYINGGGG

Kim trying to figure out if the snake is sitting or standing is a whole mood

ohhhhhhhh my gosh poor Alix trying so damn hard to subtly ask Kim if he likes Max and Kim’s just. so DUMB he doesn’t even get it no matter how obvious she is

she’s even trying to pull out those stupid amatonormative “so is he MORE than a friend???” questions just to get this idiot to figure it out because she knows allo-romos are Like That and he still doesn’t get it,,

[future aish says: the word is alloro, past aish. it’s alloro]

AND SO NOW SHE ASSUMES THEY’RE NOT INTO EACH OTHER BECAUSE SHE THINKS EVEN KIM CAN’T BE THAT STUPID

YOU UNDERESTIMATE HIS STUPIDITY

oh no... oh NO.... the letter.... here we go....

btw yes Gabriel had Kim’s grandad assassinated, it was indeed his doing

...isn’t this lowkey the plot of The Lion King?

or Long Live The Queen

hmmm let’s just say in the sequel poor Kim really will have to deal with the stresses of ruling a country >:D

NO MY POOR SON HAVING A BREAKDOWN, I WANT TO HUG HIM

(also can I just say like... this chapter is actually well-written for the most part? I’m actually kinda impressed)

unfortunately I know the feeling of wanting, needing to return home, but it fills you with dread... *hugs Kim forever*

Kim crying all over Max both hurts me and sort of heals me because Max is so sweet and comforting about it ohhh my heeeaaart

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

THIS IS LOWKEY A LOVE CONFESSION I SWEAR, IT’S SO CUTE

chapter 32 being called “Un chat noir” is kinda dumb af but also it just so happened that I accidentally had the chapter called “Coccinelle” be chapter 64, aka exactly double of 32, so that was kinda neat

Plagggggg!!!!!!!!!!

and Wayhem lol, I think I’ve already mentioned how originally this noble was just some random irrelevant unnamed OC until I decided way later it’s gay stalker fanboy

oh yeah that’s how the nobility recognize the royalty, I forgot lol

(also nobles from countries with widespread newspress or tv will recognize them from news reports and stuff I guess)

the fact that Plagg just hates Wayhem is funny to me for some reason

MISADVENTURES

HOLY SHIT I ACTUALLY THREW IN THE ACTUAL WORD

except it was in reference to Adrien... let’s just say that The Misadventures of Imperial Prince Adrien may or may not make an appearance in the sequel >:D

...the Adrienette is literally just in this fic so that people would read it, ngl

hhhhhhhhhhhh okay it’s true Alix is an aro idiot who doesn’t know anything about romance but for once she’s RIGHT, Kim IS in love with Max, but she assumes she’s wrong hshgshdjhdnsnsh

oh my god noooo timeline twin go away and stop giving me nightmares

I still love how they hate each other, that’s some top-notch self-hatred right there and I need to get on their level

[future aish note: no past self!! be nice to yourself!! you are a cool bean!! own it!!]

YOU FOOL... EVERY CLASSMATE WOULD TAKE A SWORD TO THE HAND FOR ALIX, WHY WOULDN’T THEY

ỳïķèš,,,

honestly I probably should stop being lazy and actually go back to like idk chapter 8 and put in an actual monopoly game (it had to have been before the oracle sessions in ch10 at least)

fun fact!! I have indeed very nearly had a fist fight over the last dark blue card in a monopoly game!! also I blatantly cheated, and the main opponent locked someone else (an 8 year old btw) in a cupboard... it was Wild(TM)

me and my irl friend actually came up with the butterfly thing when we were at the cinema once, she made up this random angry gardener OC who stepped on a butterfly after being fired or something lol

I mentioned Rose liking unicorns!!!! before Captain Hardrock!!!!!!!

shdhdhkshs Alix is such a moody emo brat in this fic I adore it

“The only real difference between you and me is one dead butterfly.” goddammit that’s the creepiest fucking thing, I’m genuinely shaking

technically it’s a butterfly’s fault for ALL the timelines which means that we’re all one butterfly away from death at any moment

cheerful stuff

no, no, you’re not trying to block it out on purpose... I’M trying to block it out on purpose bc I’m highkey shamelessly projecting

god I wish my timeline twin would manifest in the astral plane and punch me in the arm too

“Count yourself lucky you’re not a pillow, idiot.” in-context this is contender for Most Cursed Line I Have Ever Written In My Life

and yes Alix was about to straight-up swear

Mylène rollerskating is extremely blessed and good

pfffffffff Max you coward, I stand on swivel chairs all the time

*me, chanting at the spider in my room* KIMAX! KIMAX! KIMAX!

Kim literally making every excuse to not put Max down is amazing honestly

Kim and Max’s origins story is sooooooooooo cute wtf

THIS IS SO BLESSED OH MY HEART

HE’S JUST STANDING THERE CUDDLING HIM I’M

DECEASED

I,,,, swear to god,,,,,,,

so like. I know it’s now canon in the show that Kim really is as oblivious to his feelings as I wrote him in this. but MY GOD. IT’S FRIGGIN PAINFUL

KIM YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH MAX, FULL HOMO, THAT’S WHY YOU’RE FEELING LIKE THIS, IT’S NOT THAT COMPLICATED DAMMIT

oh yeah I wrote the kimax bits rly early and my old url was @queenkubdel haha

aight now a no-kimax chapter, but at least it’s a goodun

there’s that catradora-esque weather girls frenemyship again

Kim having a full-on breakdown when he finds out Alix’s hair isn’t really pink is actually really blessed, no lemme explain

so this universe has magic, right?? so he thinks to himself that the reason his friend has pink hair is because she must be some sort of anime protagonist or Really Important and Cool or something, and it never even occurred to him to doubt her

in other words he’s betrayed because he WANTED HIS FRIEND TO BE A COOL SHONEN HERO

which is both hilarious AND very sweet

...oh wait I’ve scrolled down and it turns out I literally explained all that in the fic itself hhdgjdvzjdjhs

and yeah honestly I can’t blame poor Kim for taking it so badly, he’s still reeling from his grandfather’s assassination so it’s natural his emotions are not exactly Regulated atm

actually when are his emotions ever regulated

1703-1899 hm... might change that since the fic takes place in 1957-1960 so even though it’s a commissioned history of the empire it was before Gabriel was even born so like why would he even care lmao

“Great Western Ocean” so pretentious, just say the Atlantic omg

I’ve been playing way too much civ because the first thing that came to mind was that everyone’s denounced Agreste due to the high warmongering penalties of the industrial/modern eras

Chloé and Kim is one hell of a brotp okay I still firmly believe that

also Chloé still loves her rococo fashion, she’s just toned it down enough that she can fit through doors and it’s not quite as “in your face” towards commoners

listen I know in the show Kim still liked Chloé for a while after Dark Cupid but in this he got over her quicker because his crush on her wasn’t as deep in the first place

Kim literally tells Chloé he gave the brooch to Max and yet STILL doesn’t realize he likes him!!! KIM!!!!!!!!!!

Chlodemption arc yesssssssss

also she’s a lesbeean

(ye Pollen will be in the sequel don’t you worry)

god I’m so proud of her <3

it feels believable too, so I’m proud of myself!! (I’m trying to be nice to myself before next chapter where I will no doubt roast myself so badly I’ll never recover)

outdated laws about marriage... jeez was that cursed foreshadowing or what

YES IT’S IVAN, I LOVE THIS BOY, HE’S SO GRUMPY AND ANGRY ALL THE TIME AND HE HATES KIM

...actually wait this is sibling culture

I literally speak like this to my brother and he’s my best friend so in conclusion Ivan thinks of Kim as an annoying brother

Jalil why are you a historian. just go be a psychologist and stop your sister accidentally hecking up the country

omg the Antarctica thing, I’m just imagining Jalil in the freezing cold with a massive coat on and getting chased by penguins

I love how the timeline twin’s plan was “escape school, force Adrien to get a venomous pet, then abandon him immediately in the middle of nowhere” and later on it turns out she skipped step two and just ditched him lmaoooooo

being so ace that your brain goes straight to “death and murder” before anything else is the biggest mood, I speak from experience

Jalil knows... he had that conversation with Kim in chapter 20... he Knows

“a bit unsupportive” um that is an extreme understatement good grief he was more savage than ME

RISE OF THE KIMAX SHIPPERS

oh don’t worry the venom death still haunts me too

chapter I Hate You... “A rather rotten winter party” well it should have been named A RATHER ROTTEN CHAPTER DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPOSSIBLE THIS ONE WAS TO WRITE OMG I HATE WRITING MYSELF INTO CORNERS

you see I had to have a motive for the timeline twin to explain things properly so that I could put in a really really dumb pun later but that meant I had to unfortunately suffer many allergic reactions again

[future aish note: forgot to mention, i also needed a motive for kim to stop eating chocolate forever, so i had to Curse this chapter as a sacrifice in order to save his life later on]

alright, alright, here we go, I’ll stop procrastinating and just get this over with

oh yeah it’s chapters like these that the fic’s rated T lol

the Adrikim friendship is indeed important... for later... like, plot-relevant levels of important... life-saving levels...

“some event” is the Peace Ball actually and I can’t wait because that chapter’s actually a good one

KIM BRAGGING ABOUT KISSING ADRIEN LAST YEAR IS SO FUCKING FUNNY OH MY GOD I’M LOSING MY MIND???

like last year he was LITERALLY LIKE “oh boo hoo I cannot tell anyone about this because Adrien is Ã Bøyê” and now he’s just like “yeah I kissed a hot boy and what about it???”

to be fair he is on an extreme sugar rush from all the chocolate he ate, which will... be a plot point in just a moment...

PILLOW GIRLFRIEND

I’m the amused nobles, they are me

oh my god Kim we get it you want to kiss someone (Max) and you don’t want to outright say it

holy shit do any of these kids ever think before they speak??? not to sound like the timeline twin or anything but alix... you could have avoided this if you’d bothered to use your one (1) brain cell

[future aish note: bold of me to assume that alix has a brain cell]

Kim wants to now fight his PARALLEL SELF oh my god, get on my level Kim, I want to fight my actual self like right now so there

stfu all of you, this is poisoning my liver

Max is the biggest mood and at least mildly sensible thank god, but he really shouldn’t have left those two alone for even a second

I AGREE PLATONIC LOVE IS UNDERRATED

the chair... the fucking c h a i r... I’m already lying down but I need to lie down harder just to process the absurdity of this

(I think I was gonna have Alix fall off the chair just because that’s hilarious but I forgot)

look I can’t take heartrate seriously but if you ever write it then you are legally required to put in kissing contests or you’re doing it wrong

fudgin Adrienette kiss offscreen and irrelevant

DJWIFI!!! AND ACTUAL PROPER DJWIFI!!!! I was sick of seeing it treated as some kind of pair-the-spares beta couple so I flipped the script and had them literally call out that trope while treating Adrienette as irrelevant instead, which is also why the sequel will be extremely djwifi-centric

“super swanky bae” please stop misusing commoner slang I’m begging you

THERE’S THE PLOT POINT I WAS TALKING ABOUT

Theo was right here, he witnessed with his own eyes how much chocolate Kim ate, so he knows for a fact that if you give Kim chocolate he will scarf it down without a second thought... so hypothetically if one sent him poisoned chocolates... dyou see where I’m going with this...

oh and Theo still has like every job btw

Alya!!!! no!!!!! hire him again!!!!!!!! then he won’t send the chocolates!!!!!!!!!! aaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

there goes me hinting how alyadrininette is the ultimate ot4 again

...do I really wanna scroll down and keep going? no I don’t but I guess I gotta, and relive every one of my most embarrassing school sleepovers in the process

full offence to everyone bothering to read this but kissing sounds gross, actually

(for the record it was probably like... 10 seconds or something idk it was Not Long At All)

“probably not more than 5 minutes” omg I just said it was 10 seconds??? hmmm m okay like 20 seconds maaaybe, Kim just has no sense of time perception

neither do I based on my microwaving skills

SHIT THIS IS LITERALLY A SCHOOL SLEEPOVER

INNOCENT DUMBASS AROACE ASKING “what does that mean? what’s this? what’s that? it’s okay you can tell me :-)”

omg I forgot the snake was there ahshdhdkshfs I’m the snake, probably wants to launch itself out of the window so big mood

most of the fic so far had Alix being really aro so I was like damn... gotta make her really ace too

(if I ever bother writing the Kimdine AU then you actually get an aro character who isn’t ace, because we need more of them, but I won’t say who) (okay fine it’s Luka)

I tend not to be too British in my writing so as not to give the Americans heart attacks whenever they see someone referring to their mother as “mum” etc, but like... sometimes you just gotta throw in the word “snogging”

(I’m typing this out on my phone rn and it has exactly 69% battery, I hate this and also hate that I felt the need to mention that)

THE HOCKEY THING MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN BASED OFF A REAL LIFE THING. *SWEATS NERVOUSLY*

honestly I was soooooo tempted to actually write The Talk bit, it would have been the funniest thing ever, but I was also 99% sure I would have to change the rating to M (despite it not even remotely being smut lol, just a regular biology lesson) and there was no way I was doing that, pretty sure I pushed the T rating at some points as it is

[future aish: god i am still so tempted to write it. man, i’m tempted. it would be the funniest thing. but no... i have sworn not to write anything above a T rating so guess i won’t.]

YEAH THE THROWING UP THING TOO WAS DEFINITELY NOT BASED ON REAL LIFE OR ANYTHING *MORE NERVOUS SWEATING*

(it genuinely wasn’t a flowerpot though. it’s my life’s goal to throw up in a flowerpot and I still haven’t achieved it.)

all of this is an Ace Mood(TM)

also I love how elaborately I’ve worded this, like yeah idiot royal teenagers are too royal and posh to ever bother just saying the word “sex” like a normal person

to any 17 year old aces: you aren’t too young to know, I told myself that aggressively when I was 17 but now I’m 22 and I’m still just as ace as I always was sooooo yeah

I also hope I can wake up tomorrow and forget I read this trash

well tbh... it’s not total trash... it highkey reminds me of my school days, like, maybe that was subconscious or something... god who even knows

jeez if timeline twin slapped me in the face I’d just keel over and die from sheer terror, other than that that’s HILARIOUS

timeline twin: “YOU HAVE ONE (1) BRAIN CELL NOW P L E A S E CONSIDER USING IT”

fuckeninf hell listen,,, so when I was writing this chapter I didn’t know I was aro... I mean, I was kinda questioning it?? but all I knew was I was ace, and that me not knowing that as a teenager almost totally screwed me over because like

to be normal or to feel normal there’s things you do or say that you don’t want, and things you know would happen or whether you want something or not you’ll take it because you think you’re expected to, because otherwise you’ll have to confront yourself with the fact that something is wrong with you and you don’t know what or why or how to fix it

and being aro on top of that is misunderstanding how to navigate close friendships because of this fundamental fear that if you want to be close with someone then friendship can’t suffice, that how much you care about them doesn’t matter

and things I did or almost did, or had the chance to do and only stopped because (awfully enough) crippling anxiety which ironically saved me (let’s just say the dude turned out to be a creep)... yeah basically this is all a callback to that aroace teenager feel where you can’t help not being true to yourself because you don’t want to, because you don’t know what’s wrong or right, only what’s “normal” and the ache of knowing that you’re not, no matter how much you try

and I didn’t know I was aro while writing this but in hindsight it’s easy to see how that played into it too, and writing this definitely played a part in me realizing I’m aro and was somehow trying to work through some very pent-up feelings about friendship and closeness with people, as well as pent-up feelings about being ace and how that tied into everything too

...in short, do not phuck the pharaoh or you will get HOUSE ARRESTED and DIE

(jk jk she’ll just be awkward around you forever lol, and then SHE’LL get house arrested and die, because you’re not commoners so your actions actually have consequences you dumb idiots)

this entire thing is just a whole mood and lowkey my teenage years holy fuck holy fuck I hate that I’m only just realizing how bloody hard I was projecting

I literally read a post the other day about how unrequited love is only ever usually explored from the perspective of the person who’s in love, whereas aros are usually on the receiving end of it and it’s a tragedy in its own right that you might do things that wind up driving you apart because you can’t bring yourself to love them back but you can’t tell them because of the fear that it’ll push them away... and I gotta say, I totally nailed it 💪

...you know what I’ve changed my mind, chapter 34 is good actually, and now I need to make a time machine and go and hug my 17 year old self for living this, and then hug my 20 year old self for writing this, I’m sorry I was mean to this chapter it’s very relatable and I shouldn’t keep beating myself up over it

thinking makes me miserable too!! that’s why it’s optimistic nihilism only lads

impulse control, hmmm... someone who’s good for him, hmmmmmm... it’s almost like someone like that is right there and exists and is already in love with him 😏

so apparently timeline twin’s idea of “fixing her life” is burning all her bridges and then hecking off to the Kazakh wilderness for over a year

did Alix just... ask the snake if it’s aroace too???

I mean it definitely is, but...

UGH SNAKES DON’T BLINK, I’M STILL SO ANGRY ABOUT THIS

chapter 35, thank god, the title “Finally!” is very apt

(because I can finally change the music from Death Valley to something else lol)

oh poor Max, his heart goes on a real rollercoaster these few chapters doesn’t it? it’s okay buddy, in like 10 chapters you’ll get your man...

NO BUT SHE H A S FIGURED IT OUT!!! SORT OF!!!

I just misread “despite” as “despacito”, I’m going to bed and continuing this tomorrow dammit

alright I am now funky refreshed and ready to roll, let’s get this kimax party started

Max is angsting internally like “no one’s realized I like Kim :( well except Juleka but she’s a lesbian so she doesn’t count” ashgdjsghskk that mlm/wlw solidarity is holding out I see

YES ALIX YOU DO NEED TO TALK TO NATH MORE, THAT’S YOUR FREAKING BEST BUD IN THE SHOW MAY I REMIND YOU

this is all so Irony it’s murdering me dead

okay yeah I’m gonna be really honest and salty here for a second, this bit where Max is annoyed that Alix takes Nath more seriously as a contender than him was me being a bit salty over the fact that like... kimnath/tomato ketchup is a great rarepair but got so weirdly popular amongst people who didn’t seem to care about Max as a character at all despite how close he is with Kim in canon, and as a Max Stan it made me sad because he’s already not very appreciated in fandom

[future aish note: HE IS NOW BABEY!]

THERE IT IS

I WANT TO HUG MAX TOO, BLESS HIM

I also want to hug Alix because godddds I’ve been in that situation where if you were allowed to just TELL the idiots that they like each other then all their problems would be solved but noooo, you’re sworn to secrecy... *sigh*

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t change, ever...” me: *thinks about the sequel and cackles evilly while cracking my knuckles* well,,

A R O M A N T I C

listen it was VERY IMPORTANT to me that I actually put in all these actual words in the fic and made them relevant, like gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc (I think the only one I didn’t was trans, oops?? gotta remember that for the sequel, at least Nino IS trans in this even though I never said the word)

[future aish note: i feel like i didn’t say pan either, or nonbinary... more stuff for the sequel folks! i can’t put in everything but i may as well try!]

bc you see all these tv shows where a character is bi but they say they “don’t like labels” or a character with no love interest get suddenly paired up with someone random at the end... like NO I wanted to do the OPPOSITE of that bc people’s identities are IMPORTANT so I wanted to MAKE IT RELEVANT 💪

and even though I didn’t yet know here that I was aro and highkey projecting, there’s already a fair few fics dealing with asexuality but not aromanticism?? so I rly wanted to make the aro side of things important

almost relieved??? Max, you buffoon, she IS relieved, extremely

Malix friendship is good and severely underrated and I still haven’t forgiven myself for not putting more of it in this

“He was never eating chocolate again” HO-HO-HOLY SHIT THAT’S SOME FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE

Rose is a distinguished bi who doesn’t realize Kim is a disaster bi

Kim oh my god you can’t just out Adrien “just about functional bi” Agreste like that

I love that Rose calls Kim a casanova even though he’s very much not... how many people are even into him over the course of the fic? Max, Adrien, it’s implied Marinette used to be, Lila is ambiguous, same with the lacrosse guy later, oh yeah Ondine highkey lmao along with 90% of the teenage population of Saharan Africa, Kim himself in about 2 chapters time...

Rose giving Kim the gay talk is so blessed omg I need more interaction between these two

“If you swung one way you were gay, if you swung the other way you were straight, more than one way made you bisexual, if you didn’t swing any way at all then you were probably just Alix...” I will literally NEVER be able to outdo this line, this is Peak

hmm I don’t think at any point in the fic Max says to Kim that he’s exclusively into boys... I guess he said it offscreen then lol, point is He’s Gay

OMG KIM, YOU FINALLY REALIZED WHAT THE NOSEBLEED SCENE MEANT, GOD BLESS YOU

this is like in Syren when he realizes the mermaid is Ondine and that she was trying to tell him she likes him... except this is the gay version of that

yeah Rose I really do need to get more sleep, that one was directed at me and I know it was

Kim being all like “fellas is it gay if you take off your shirt and a guy swoons at you 🤔🤔🤔”

no, no... Max is definitely a complete trainwreck at romance, just slightly less than you

god freaking dammit not the sports bra again,,, I s2g later in the fic all Ondine would have had to do is to show up in a sports bra and Kim would immediately go full ot3 mode no questions asked,,,,,,,, (I mean he does see her in a swimsuit but that’s not the same??? sports bras are in a different league okay shush)

psssssst!!! you should read heartbroken!!!! it’s a kimax fic and it’s so good!!!!! this was a lowkey shoutout!!!!!!!!

genuinely tho, even if Kim hadn’t liked Max too here, he’s being so sweet about it?? he’s worried about his poor friend’s emotional state and wishes he could have done better to help!! gahhhh their friendship/relationship is just So Blessèd

hsndhkdhdkshdh I only noticed it after finishing the fic and occasionally skimming back through, but so much of the time whenever Alix shows up Kim’s all like *ungrateful* “oh not you again” like WOW that’s one way to greet your friend?? mood tho

[future aish note: i did the exact opposite in No Romo, funnily enough! kim’s not in it much but whenever he sees alix he’s like “friend!!! friend!!!!!” and she’s just like -_- “oh it’s that guy again”]

he’s not even paying attention to her omg she’s trying to save the timeline here you idiot

POOR ALIX how frustrating,,, and also I’ve literally been there,,, the woes of being a wing-girl indeed

and now Kim wants to fight himself, why am I not surprised

aND YES HERE’S WHERE IT HITS HIM, THE EXACT FUCKING MOMENT

WHERE HE’S SUDDENLY LIKE “OH WAIT MAX’S LOVE FOR ME ISN’T UNREQUITED??? I LIKE HIM TOO HOLY SHIT????”

aaaaaaand he immediately asks the aro for love advice, why is he like this omg

gosh this is sooooo sweeeeeet

I did not let up, did I? just went ahead and made this as cheesy and cutesy and over the top as I could because It’s What Kimax Deserves

(there wasn’t rly much Kimax content yet in the fandom at this point so I had total free reign and went all-out with it)

sfjsgskdhs and there goes Alix getting her wing-efforts sidelined again

“I’m never asking out someone on a whim again. Or, uh, confessing that I like someone on a whim either.” so uh... you know how I said I’m considering making the sequel Kimaxdine? well if I do then uh. hm. this might change. because reasons.

I don’t know why I made nothing Alix ever says make sense but I’m glad I did because she’s so freaking funny

I swear I talk about Max’s eyes being “magnified in his glasses” multiple times in this fic, either that or I’m having serious deja vu

Kim’s so cute dammit!!! now that he knows he likes Max he’s just swooning over every little thing and it’s!!!! adorable!!!!!

(I wonder if this is how it was with Kimdine in the show? it does seem like Kim already liked her but just hadn’t noticed...)

huehuehuehue Kim later on you do indeed recklessly propose to Max on the spot... in like 18 chapters or so

also the fact that Kim thinks things through better when he’s around Max is just the total sweetest and also what Alix was basically trying to aim for

I love Kim showing off that he can pack all his stuff in half an hour like buddy, the porters can literally help you with that, you’re royalty remember

omg I’d forgotten I left a note here later for binge-readers!! being all like “drink water and eat food and go to sleep uwu”

lmao guess I’ll take my own advice then and leave it there for now

[future aish note: same, goodnight]

#smalluns proceed with caution. it's T rated remember #it's not dodgy though. just evil and cursed #anyway i'm going to sleep now for like 12 hours #random stuff #misadventures #if you're on the mobile app and the keep reading glitches and you have to scroll then i'm sorry #this is under a cut on desktop i promise

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storytellingandtea-blog · 6 years ago

Note

:D :D :D “no questions, no lies” + Itachi/Shisui

Soooo this turned into a full-on oneshot. I think this might be the longest thing I’ve written that isn’t abandoned and/or a WIP lmfao. It is 3 am and I just finished this, so it’s probably got mistakes and typos and such. I’ll probably edit this up and re-post this to Ao3 at some point, if I don’t hate it in the morning. I was really tempted to just leave if off on the angst and have it as a maybe hopeful, maybe bleak ending, but I thought I’d be a bit nice, since I know you like HEA lmao. That said, I do think the ending paragraphs with the hopefulness are the weakest/most rushed-feeling bit. I was initially intending to end it just at the last text divider thing. I hope you still like it, though

AU: Time travel, aged up Itachi (he’s probably in his mid teens around the massacre). Probably OOC.

Warnings: Very heavy angst, dark themes. Mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, self-worth/self-image issues, general Itachi angst.

Word Count: ~4,400

Ao3 link: Edited version is up! Read on Ao3 for best experience b/c I keep losing my formatting when I try to paste the updated version in here xAx

Mandatory link to my new ItaShi playlist: here

Fic is below the cut

Shisui took a sudden pause from their frantic dash through the trees, a determined glint in his eyes as he took the opportunity to Shunshin to his cousin’s side, hand reaching forward.

“Itachi… what..?” Shisui gripped Itachi’s shoulder and forcibly stopped him, hauling them both down to the ground as gently as he was able, fixing Sharingan red eyes on the younger man. So much had happened in the past hour that it took him much too long to process things enough to even question what the ever-loving hell had happened, though it did speak for his level of trust in his cousin, as well. Even so, he still didn’t know where to start “What is going on? I… are you hurt? What— what did you do? Why are we running? My eye — how..? Danzō? The-the foundation?”

A face much too old, too tired, too… bereaved, yet reservedly fond in the same way it had been for years gazed back at him, unable to meet his eyes. A familiar stranger.

Strained lines on his face, a voice too deep, too haggard and husky for someone so young, replied, a taint of blood and death on his breath , “…I— I cannot, Shisui, do not ask this of me. Not-not until it is safe for you in Konoha. Do not force me to lie to you. Do not force me to make you forget.” His voice trembled. Trembled. Shisui didn’t want to think too hard into what could have broken Itachi this way. There was no other way Shisui could begin to describe it. At some point, the fragile points in his dear friend had shattered, when he wasn’t looking, and no one was there to pick up the pieces, to soothe the jagged edges. Shisui, busy, perhaps willingly blind, Sasuke too young, his parents too caught up in their troubles… They had failed him, and Shisui had to make it right, regardless of what Itachi seemed to believe of his own actions. There was little that Itachi could do that would turn him away. It kind of hurt to think that the young man didn’t seem to believe so. That he could think so poorly of himself, of their bond. Of him. Shisui refused to even consider that Itachi had, in fact, done something unforgivable. He simply wasn’t that type of person.

“Itachi…” Shisui sighed, and bit his lip when he saw the expression on Itachi’s face, deciding against pushing the issue, for now. He’d just have to do his best to help, without knowing anything beyond what he could read off the familiar stranger’s face. “… all right, ‘tachi. Just… please. Are you… are you injured? Surely we’re far enough away for me to look you over?” Shisui pressed all the concern and hurt he could into his tone, refusing to feel guilty as he resisted the urge to rub his still-throbbing eye, the one that Itachi had re-implanted not half an hour ago.

He had lost time, waking up in a cave with Itachi by his side some time after falling into the water, impact shocking his body like a block of ice. (In another world, another time, Shisui had given a final, parting gift to Itachi before falling to his death. Itachi had refused to allow it, not again.)

His right eye had been aching when he bolted into consciousness, but was most definitely there behind the careful wrapping around his head. Itachi was hovering above him, but oddly unable to meet his uncovered eye. Things had been… odd with Itachi for the past week, he was even more reclusive than normal. He’d just surmounted it to the tough situation they’d found themselves in, and that it could wait for a more opportune time, that they could talk about it later. Evidently, that had been a mistake. Itachi had an expression he’d wished to never see on his face., body language defeated and weary.

Itachi passed him a water skin after he was certain his cousin was able to sit up on his own before he spoke. Or attempted to. A violent cough echoed through the space as Itachi turned away, taking a moment before he spoke again in a deep, raspy tone ,”We have to go, as soon as you’re able. You need to finish healing, but… it’s not safe here”.

Itachi looked away, seeming hesitant, before rasping “I will manage. They only scraped me. I need rest, but no more than you do. There’s a place we can hide out for a while not too far from here, abandoned by Orochimaru long ago. It still has protections that will serve us well once I get us past them…”

“…I don’t like this, Itachi. You should know you can confide in me by now, surely. I won’t press, but you should know, I’ll always be here for you, on your side. You know that, surely, especially with what’s been going on recently. I hate to see you hurting like this… I hate that you think you have to hide from me, that you’ve been hiding for weeks, if not longer. Let me help you”, Shisui responded in a rushed breath, pained. As always, the words Let me love you remained almost reluctantly unsaid, a painful lump in his throat.

If anything, Itachi looked even more broken and… guilty by that admission, his bloodshot eyes looking even less focused than they had been the entire all-too-hectic night. “No questions, no lies, Shisui”, was all that he managed to that, his eyes moist to accompany his broken tone.

Damn you. Damn you Itachi, and damn your martyr complex. You’re killing yourself, I know it. Damn your parents, for forcing your pacifistic ass into Anbu. Damn this world for being so unfair., for not allowing someone so inherently pure and wonderful, someone with so much to give to live without tarnishing his hands and soul. Without being forced into hating himself for what he’d had to do.

Shisui fought back the words from surfacing, fingers digging into Itachi’s shoulder unkindly, before he forced a nod. Something about Itachi’s almost-amused huff, the most he’d seemed like himself in much too long, told him that the younger man had picked up on at least some of the things that went unsaid. Shisui wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. For all his lack of social grace, at times, Itachi was still a genius, and they had had at least one or two conversations of a similar nature in the past.

“Lead the way”, he finally managed, giving up on meeting Itachi’s gaze in the silence. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened, he’d help Itachi. He wouldn’t allow the man he loved resign himself to… his hatred..? He was making a tactical retreat on the issue, though he would never give up. He’d just have to combine his years of reading Itachi, his experience with his ability to subtly needle Fugaku into spilling sensitive information. Shisui was determined. He would bring back Itachi from the precipice or no return he was wavering on, regardless of whether it was partially on purpose.

Shisui had been in this abandoned lab for… a week and a half, he supposed. For all that Itachi had claimed to need rest, he had disappeared that first morning, some time before he’d woken up. Needless to say, that really put a damper on his plans to figure out what the damn hell was going on, how Itachi was holding up with his illness… That period of time had been filled with high amounts of stress, anxiety and concern. Itachi had left him supplies, and a brief note to stay put as he ‘needed to take care of some urgent business’ and ‘there was no need to worry’ and ‘he’d be back as soon as he was able’. Even so, even having no clue where Itachi could have gone, that this was the most likely place for them to intersect again. Shisui was ready to tear his hair out, and just fucking bolt in search for his wayward cousin. In fact, he was making his way out of the hideout when he spotted the limping, battered Itachi.

He inhaled sharply, dropping everything before he Shunshined to Itachi’s side, carefully manoeuvring him onto the only bed in decent repair in the lab as he looked the younger man over. Itachi was… unwell would be the understatement of the century. Shisui felt numb as he tried to figure out the best course of action, his fingers already shining with the green of healing chakra. While hardly the most skilled, Shisui had very good chakra control, as was a necessity for his mastery of Shunshin, and he was able to substitute for a field medic in a pinch.

It had been concerningly touch-and-go for far too long as Shisui worked, Itachi fading in and out of consciousness. For his poor condition, Shisui found it very concerning that he could trace little back little of the damage to any external injuries, hoping that it was simply his lack of experience that prevented him from determining the cause of the internal damage, the blood building up in both lungs, despite no apparent evidence of a puncture.

Shisui had been wiping the bloody tear-like streaks caked on Itachi’s face when he finally awoke, after hours of too-hesitant chakra manipulated healing. “Oh, thank the Sage. Itachi, you’ve worried me sick. Haven’t I told you not to vanish on me..? I’ve had over a week to think all this over… nothing to do but think, really. And I still don’t understand what you think could be so horrible that you’ve been hiding it from me. I would never turn my back on you, I swear it. I lo— You mean the world to me, you’re family. I just want you to heal, you’ve been hurt, and I don’t know why or how, but I’ll make it better.”

Itachi seemed overwhelmed, and strangely pained at the barrage of words, as if they were poised to cut and maim, rather than reassure. Disoriented from just waking up, he hesitated for several beats too long, long enough that Shisui finally had hope for the first time in over a week that things would truly be okay. They weren’t, though. Itachi clammed up, the moment he realised they’d made eye contact, and he flinched away, like a kicked puppy,. He stiffly sat up, reaching into his tattered robes, as-if to retrieve something, “Before anything else, it is safe to return to Konoha, now. However, perhaps, more importantly, I… I am so, so sorry, Shisui. No questions, n—“

“Damn you, Itachi, damn you!” Shisui snarled, tears of irrational anger burning down his face as he made to box Itachi in the ear, only to stare in stunned, pained disbelief as the man he loved dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving behind only a scroll, and a whisper of I’m sorry. Not even a vague imprint of his chakra remained in the air. It felt like a goodbye, like an ‘I’ve done what I need to, and now I’m ready to die’. It felt like a ‘don’t look for me’, it felt like a betrayal of trust. It was a visceral, incomparable pain.

An inhuman noise tore its way from Shisui’s chest as he collapsed on the bedding that would forever be marked by Itachi’s sweat and blood, unable to do or feel anything beyond the hurt, pain, concern, worry, fear, anger, desperation.

It was probably hours later that Shisui finally hauled himself into a sitting position, though it had felt like an immeasurable eternity. He was stiff and sore, face sticky and sore from crying, eyes burning from a Mangekyō he wasn’t able to de-activate. He tugged at his own hair, hoping the sharp stabbing pain would distract from the ache in his soul, and forced his attention onto the scroll, laying deceptively innocent, now on the floor.

Shisui hesitated for a few moments, biting his lower lip raw, before lifting the scroll, and rolling it open. A familiar seal greeted him, and a pang, somehow deeper and more painful than the pervasive ache, struck him. He brought a thumb up to his raw, sluggishly bleeding lip, and smudged it onto the base of the seal, speaking in a broken, stuffed up tone, wavering, “No questions, no lies”. The familiar feeling of Itachi’s chakra caressed him for a moment before vanishing, leaving him with a sheaf of papers, neatly bound, and another, smaller, yet more intricate seal that he didn’t recognise. Setting it aside, after a cursory glance, he turned his gaze to familiar, if rushed handwriting, feeling himself go strangely numb, the further he read, starting to shed tears he thought he no longer had.

Shisui. Shi-nii… Shi-chan…

I hope you find this legible, as my sight has been fading as quickly as my health, as of late.

Oh, Sage. I do not know where to start. Much as I hope my letter finds you well, that you will not despair over one as undeserving as I, I know better than to hope. And for that, I am sincerely sorry. I am so very sorry, for so many things. Alas, I am too much of a coward, too selfish, too tired, too torn, to have the strength to face you as I share the deepest trenches where my soul used to reside.

Until then, please, allow me one last bit of completely unfair, harmful selfishness. Much as someone as you is undeserving of my taint, I love you. I still love you, even though I shouldn’t, after all I’ve done. I no longer deserve to, and yet. And yet. I loved you ever since we were small children, though I suppose it was different, back then. You were ‘just’ family. ‘Just’ my big brother. You did so much for me, you not only put the effort forward to understand, but you actually did. It meant the world to me, back then, when I could not express myself to save my life. I still do, now, no matter how needlessly difficult it had made the past few weeks, hiding my darkness from you. Time passes for all of us, however, and, well, over the years, you grew to mean so very much more to me. I think I realised that night, on the roof, under the stars… I am still deeply mournful I was unable to tell you before I was no longer worthy of earning your love.

Before I delve into the brunt of this retelling, please know, none of the blame is with you. It is my choices, and the choices of people beyond our control that have led to this. None the less, I have done things that are unforgivable, and that I wish not to taint anybody else with. I know that you’d try to forgive me, spin my actions in a way they are redeemable, but I know better. I don’t wish for you to taint yourself, your morals, your soul, with forgiving such a creature as I. You were my heart once, and I do not wish to force you down such a dark path. I must be cruel once more here, my heart. Please care for Sasuke, like you once did for me. With my actions over the past month, he will be having a very tough time.

The brief of it, well. I am from the future. One where I did many unforgivable things. One where I massacred our entire clan, save Sasuke, after you fell down a cliff, eyeless, and drowned. One where I forced my brother into madness to gain enough strength to kill me. I will not try to excuse or explain myself, lest I manage to make you see myself and my actions in a brighter light than I deserve. I have sealed my most important memories of the years that should never again come to pass in that scroll. You can activate it the same way you did my storage seal.

It contains memories of our clan, of my time as a missing-nin with a rebel group, of the upcoming war. I have dealt with Madara, and inhibited Zetsu’s plans to the best of my abilities, so you have time. Once again, I am sorry to push this on your shoulders, dear heart, for I am cruel. You are the only I can trust to take action. Please, don’t make the same mistakes as I. Don’t go it alone.

Ever since I had returned, into my younger body, around a month ago (I am still uncertain as to how it happened. One moment, I was dying to Sasuke’s hands, the next, waking up in the compound), I put forward my best efforts in an attempt to even slightly redeem myself, to prevent the darkest happenings of the future in any way I can. Danzō is dead, as are my father and many of the elders. The details I have also enclosed in the scroll.

As I’m sure you’ve been picking up on, I have not been completely well for some time. At this age, I already had the early signs of my illness, though I was not aware of it, at the time. The deterioration seems to be occurring faster in this timeline, than originally. My organs are under strain, my eyes failing, both from illness and Mangekyō use. Even if I were not tainted beyond saving, beyond redemption, I would not want others to see me like this, make them suffer for me. Much as I acknowledge what I am doing to you is unforgivably cruel, I hope you can begin to understand my reasons. Please be well.

I have left to die, Shisui, do not search for me. I do not deserve your forgiveness, I do not deserve healing. Please. Move on from this, be happy. That is the best thing you could ever do for me, dear heart.

With all my sincerest apologies and remaining soul,

Itachi

It had been just a fortnight since Itachi had vanished, and plans were very well underway for the future, based on the memories Itachi had left. After all, a determined Shisui was a productive Shisui, almost scarily so. Many of the pitfalls of Itachi’s future were unlikely to come to pass with all their contingency plans, upon contingency plans. It doubtlessly helped that many of the key players were dead, or had changed allegiance.

Many, including Shisui, himself, were angry with Itachi, but not for the reason the man himself likely thought. Shisui was so very unexplainably hurt by Itachi’s choice to leave, much as he understood it, in a way. He hated the fact that the man had been so hurt, so consumed by the family madness by the time he returned, that he no longer put any stock in himself, causing to push everyone who cared about him away, feeling undeserving. Unthinking of the harm he was doing to those that found him dear. They would have much to talk through, much to heal, the both of them, but for all his hurt, he couldn’t blame Itachi. And he found it even more painful that the young man had thought his actions irredeemable and unforgivable, considering his forced hand, and less-than-sane mental state at the time of many of these choices. He just wanted to wrap up the man in a stifling hug, and never let him go. It ached. He refused to think about the possibility of Itachi already being gone, of it being too late. He hoped that Itachi felt the need to resolve more things before death caught up with him, that he hadn’t killed himself, or just laid down to die somewhere.

He’d managed to convince Tsunade to return, for all she claimed it was temporary. Hiruzen was hoping to convince her to take over the hat, but that was hardly Shisui’s main concern — she had agreed she’d tend to Itachi, if— when they found him. While she couldn’t promise anything, due to the unreliable nature of the details Shisui had told her, she was convinced she could reverse most, if not all of the damage, if it hadn’t tipped over to the point of no return.

Shisui had gathered the best tracking teams in Konoha, and they were finally ready to depart. Each person had a Hiraishin seal, and access to a messenger summon so that Shisui and Tsunade could appear on location as soon as Itachi was found, and get him stabilised, and to Konoha as soon as possible.

Hiruzen felt a great deal of guilt over the Uchiha, and Itachi’s fathe, specifically, both in the man’a original timeline, and this time around, which allowed Shisui to press a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise, considering the differences in their station. This allowed him access to the forbidden scroll of the village, allowing him to learn the technique for near-instantaneous travel created by the Nidaime Hokage.

And here they were, setting out, two weeks after he’d last seen Itachi, the moment the situation was stabilised, and he felt confident enough in his new Jutsu. Much as he had been antsy to leave in pursuit immediately, he knew it would have done little good without any ability to help Itachi, considering he had little clue of his condition. Shunshin was amazingly useful, but it could cover only so much distance, and was very rough on passengers. Not to mention that his healing would only go so far.

Shisui was determined, hopeful as he watched the teams quickly advancing through the forest. There was no way the greatest trackers in Konoha, supported by Jiraiya’s lauded spy network would be unable to find Itachi. If he was still out there, he’d be brought back, no doubt about it.

If. Oh Sage. No, no, no, he had to still be alive, right? Such a bright flame couldn’t go out without any noticeable change to the world, surely. He had to still be alive.

…right..?

Shisui startled as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Tsunade didn’t offer any empty platitudes, but her steady presence helped settle his spirit. He wouldn’t allow himself to wallow in despair at what if. He had to have hope, especially when Itachi didn’t.

The next time Shisui saw Itachi, he was… in surprisingly good shape, considering his state the last time he’d seen the man, though much too pale, his face worn.

According to Kakashi, he seemed in the middle of tracking someone, who he’d later found out was Black Zetsu, before he found himself restrained by Konoha-nin. While initially panicked, and intent on escaping, Kakashi ended up talking him down, after he convinced his team to leave them to chat. While not as close as Shisui and Itachi, Kakashi had played an important role in Itachi’s life after he’d entered Anbu, as he’d been the young Uchiha’s commanding officer. Being similar in many ways, as well, had helped them bond. In the time that it took for Kakashi’s ninken to deliver the go-ahead to Shisui, Kakashi explained what had been happening ever since ‘his little vanishing act’, and started to explain why Itachi was wrong for believing he was unforgivable and irredeemable for his actions.

While Itachi was visibly reluctant to agree with Kakashi’s words, he was listening, and it was oddly plain to see that he was starting to take the words to heart. Kakashi had imagined it helped that he was notoriously allergic to feelings and speaking honestly, and that he’d shared some of his own deep wounds and failings. My actions aren’t unforgivable, according to you. Your situation isn’t much different than mine. What makes you so tainted? Learn to forgive yourself, kid.

Itachi leapt to his feet the moment he felt Shisui’s chakra signature, seemingly uncertain for a moment whether he wanted to bolt away from, or to Shisui. His innate impulse, built over many years took over, however, and he Shunshined straight into his cousin, following him in his fall to the ground. He clung tightly to the feeling of warmth, safety, home, for the first time in a long time not pausing to question if he deserved it. Silent tears trailed down Itachi’s face as his half-blind eyes met Shisui’s, willingly, for the first time, ever since he’d returned from the future, “I— I’m so very sorry, Shisui. I have caused you so much —“

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you utter dingbat”, Shisui near-sobbed into Itachi’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you thought, for a moment, you didn’t deserve me, that you deserved to die in a ditch somewhere. I fucking love you, too! Did my feelings not matter in this..? If you dared die, I’d have found a way to bring you back, just to kill you myself. You… you…. I’m so happy and relieved you’re okay… I just… you… we have a lot to talk about, but please. You deserve to live, and heal. Please, at least, try for me, even if you don’t think you deserve it for yourself yet”.

Itachi shifted over the sniffling Shisui so that the man was positioned in his lap, happy to note that Kakashi and Tsunade had chosen to give them some privacy. He paused, looking at Shisui’s face, and, once he was certain of his welcome, kissed the corner of the other man’s mouth, before pressing their foreheads together. “For you, anything. I have not been in my right mind for a long time now, as you probably know by now. But, after a long conversation with Kakashi, and some searching in myself, I know I should trust in you, if nothing else. If you believe I’m worth saving, I will try my hardest. I love you, and you are my heart, have been for a very long time. I will endeavour to never hurt you again in this way that I have. I pushed you away for one of the things I love most about you, and for that, I will do my best to earn your forgiveness.”

Tsunade, Kakashi, and the rest of the tracking group found the two half an hour later, exchanging soft words and gentle kisses, reluctant to be more than an inch apart at any given moment. They were already starting to heal, as they affirmed themselves, their relationship, in one another, though it would take time for the cracks in their souls to be filled with gold, making something different, yet just as beautiful as it once was. Together.

#ask #wynnebat #prompt #naruto #itachi #shisui #itashi #angst #suicide #suicidal thoughts #self-worth issues #itachi is a ball of issues #he’s getting better #a determined shisui is an unstoppable shisui #i should be asleep #this is ooc #i don’t really care #my writing

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im-basically-logan · 7 years ago

Text

Happy Density Day!

haha get it cuz the formula for density looks like a heart. I still dont know how to title things. Analogical V-Day fic anybody? (quick note- sorry if the pacing is sorta weird??? idk how story writing works. personally my favorite part is the last few paragraphs lmao)

Summary: Logan wants to give Virgil a poem for Valentine’s Day, but wants to make it as perfect as possible. Either way, Virgil loves it. Words: 2,796 Ship: Analogical, Royality (tho, it’s only briefly mentioned and analogical is the focus) TW: Kissing, sleeping at bad hours, uh... Patton tackles Roman playfully at one point Please send me an ask/message if I need to add a trigger. Genre: Fluff!!

@riverbendover @nokatai-realm @crowsketches @living-on-the-virge

It was about 3 days before Valentine’s Day and as much as Logan would usually show nonchalance or distaste towards the holiday, he’s been Virgil’s boyfriend for 8 months now. He wasn’t going to brush off their first Valentine’s Day. He was going to make the perfect card for his Virgil even if it meant he didn’t get any sleep that week. Well, that was an exaggeration and Virgil would probably ask as to why Logan’s sleep schedule had suddenly done a 180. But nonetheless, Logan was going to make a nice little card.

Logan started out with printer paper as a planning stage, wondering what to actually put in the card. He went through scribbled out drawings, minimalistic pictures, telling Virgil how beautiful he was, and finally settled on writing a poem. He was good at those. Usually.

His trash can in his room began filling with balled up clumps of paper which were drafts that he deemed not good enough.

“Clothes are dark as space, but eyes as bright as the stars. I hope-- No.” Logan mumbled the poem out loud to himself, then crumpled up the paper, threw it to the side, and started anew. The side of his hand was turning gray from being left-handed and the graphite of the pencil he was using. “I cannot describe to you how much I love you. It was a revelation when I had discovered my feelings for you. Like when Newton discovered gravity. It was fundamental to understanding life as you are fundamental to me understanding emotions…” He tapped the pencil against his head quickly, trying to think. It sounded… Like something. It wasn’t too bad, but he decided to trash and rewrite it again. It was probably just fine, but Logan was a perfectionist.

He began writing a bit more before deciding to create the decorations on the light purple construction paper he found for the actual card. He had the equation 128√e980 written along over the spine while the card was flattened. The equation was supposed to be read while the card was closed and turned a certain way, and it would read “I love you” from being folded in half. He found the little trick while looking up ways to say I love you to a partner. In pen he neatly wrote inside the cover of the card the beginning to his poem to Virgil. The beginning was the only thing he was happy with at the moment, but he would add more later. He checked his watch and read 11:30 pm. He sighed, put his materials away and went to bed. Although made sure to put the card neatly into the drawer of his desk. It was only 2 days before Valentine’s Day and he barely had anything! He wanted to keep working on it, but also sleeping was important and he and the others were working on getting a full night’s rest. Besides, Virgil would badger him in the morning about it and he couldn’t have his boyfriend find his surprise.

Logan went through the next day rather smoothly: Nice comebacks to Roman, reminding Thomas of important events, and of course a few nice kisses with Virgil in the middle of it all. Patton always grinned if he caught them and Roman always teased them until Logan mentioned it was almost Valentine’s Day.

“We are allowed to have physical affection, especially around this time of year, correct?” Logan asked Roman, raising a brow with a pouting expression.

“Well I suppose so, but… You two are such nerds!” Roman responded weakly, unable to come up with a witty reply. Patton butted in, putting his arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“Now, don’t be mean, Roman. It’s your time of the year, isn’t it? Valentine’s Day! A day of Roman-ce.” Patton laughed and Virgil, who was leaning slightly against Logan, snickered. Logan sighed with a very small hint of a smile while Roman rolled his eyes with a laugh. He exited with Patton, most likely about to go on an adventure or brainstorm. Logan, although, had a pit in his stomach as he was constantly reminded Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

Such terrible planning on my end… He thought, biting the inside of his mouth before kissing Virgil on the head as they went to do their own separate things for now. He sank out and went to his room, relieved to find it just as it was when he left it. He hadn’t taken out his trash yet, but he assumed Virgil wouldn’t go digging through it at least and see the drafts. Checking his watch, which read 8:30 pm, Logan pulled out the drawer and took out the card. He drew a little density equation on the back, coloring in the little heart that the symbols for mass over volume created. He then opened the card back up, rereading the beginning of the poem he kept from a draft.

“I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain my love towards you. Like how it is a mystery as to the true way the universe was created despite the many theories. How the chances of us existing together may have been smaller than a quark, But we managed to exist and come together.” Logan sat down at his desk and began writing a bit more, once again mumbling the words to himself as he wrote. “Your mind can be as far away as a galaxy,

but I’d travel the light years.

You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars.” He bit the bottom of his lip, unable to think of anything else to add. “I can’t even write a simple poem…” He murmured to himself, dropping his pencil. He kept his head up with his left hand, trying to think. There wasn’t any specific pattern or rhyme to the poem. It was purely just him rambling about how great Virgil is in metaphors about space and science. Would Virgil even enjoy that? He created a small, curvy border with a blue pen on the inside of the card, but cringed as he looked back to the unfinished poem. Then he put another line. “I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you.” It was true, but the poem felt too short and he barely had an idea on how to end it. He wrote on the other half of the inside of the card “Happy Valentine’s Day, Virgil. Love, Logan”, drew a simplistic galaxy on the front, and went back to his previous position of laying his head atop his hand. Instead of coming up with any ideas, Logan somehow fell asleep on his hand. He took his nap for about 4 hours, waking up at the superb hour of around 1 am and his head ended up on the desk with his hand still upright. Great. Only 1 day until Valentine’s Day and he was barely done with his card. He dug his hands into his hair in frustration. It should have been easy to write a poem. But no it was going to be difficult and now he was tired as hell. He decided to create the blue borders on the outside of the card while waiting for the others to get up. After finishing the border, which did look rather nice, he put it back in the desk drawer and went to sleep in his bed this time. Although he didn’t fall asleep immediately. Of course not. He was thinking about what Virgil would think if he barely had anything to give. The poem was pretty choppy… he should rewrite it again. What if Virgil didn’t even want a card? Would chocolates have been better?

Luckily, Logan didn’t stay up late enough to question anymore as he crashed into sleep while thinking about Virgil. Said side must have felt Logan still being awake because he made his way into Logan’s room having woke up early himself. It was dark so he couldn’t see the trash can of the Valentine’s drafts but he could feel his way over to Logan’s bed and curled into his chest almost like a human-sized cat. Before going back to sleep, he kissed Logan’s cheek and put his head half on some pillow and half on the mattress with his head lying against the top of Logan’s chest. He didn’t mind sleeping like this, in fact if he was resting next to Logan on just a mattress he’d be content like that as well.

In the morning, the actual morning of about 7:45 am, Logan found a Virgil sleeping next to him. He sighed dreamily, then remembered that he still hadn’t thrown out his god damn drafts yet. Logan tried to move as subtly and quietly as possible to not wake Virgil. He eventually got out of bed and moved the plastic bin under his desk quickly as he heard Virgil shuffling on the bed. Then he went back over his bed, kissing Virgil’s forehead.

“Virge? C’mon, it’s almost 8 o’ clock,” Logan said, looking at his watch. Virgil was awake, but he kept his eyes closed as he replied,”I don’t wanna.”

“Patton’s making french toast.” “5 more minutes.”

“We both know that means 5 more hours, metaphorically and even literally at times.”

“Shush, nerd.” Virgil eventually opened his eyes and got up, his hair messy and partially standing. Logan smirked at the other’s appearance, holding out his hand for Virgil to take. So Virgil takes it gladly and they move on with the rest of their day.

Logan had barely any opportunities to work on his card but while there was a short lull he managed to write a few more lines. “You’re nothing short of breath taking. A star should be named after you. No, a galaxy.”

He stopped as he felt a presence in his room. It was Patton. Oh thank god. They both headed off to the commons to discuss with the other two about the big day tomorrow.

“What are you two doing?” Roman asked Virgil and Logan. They both shrugged, but Logan of course, had a small gift to finish.

“Why are you asking?” Virgil replied. “What are you doing, Princey?” Roman was about to respond when he was suddenly tackled by Patton on the couch, letting out a boisterous laugh.

“Well of course, romantic things! Anyways, I thought you’d both at least say something like spending time with each other.” He continued as Patton got off and sat next to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Well that’s a given, isn’t it?” That was Logan, who quirked a brow.

Virgil shrugged. “Sure. We can just chill out here since Romano and Patton are probably going to the fantasy realm or whatever.”

Logan nodded as Roman scoffed at the seemingly mundane idea. He said it was such a boring thing to do on Valentine’s Day, but Virgil didn’t mind.

They all went off to do their jobs and then night time came around again.

Logan was rushing through his notes after playing a game of 52 pickup with his slang vocab cards which he foolishly dropped while hurrying back to his room. He closed his binder with satisfaction after looking at the schedule, putting it away in a separate drawer from the card, which he took back out of its hiding place. He was clueless as to what to add. It had barely any stanzas. Logan tapped his pencil against the table, making a fast paced clicking noise.

“Ughhh!” The logical facet sighed, his mind totally blank. “I should have gotten more hours of sleep.” He looked at his watch: 10:40 pm. He could still finish it by tomorrow. Logan, although, was holding his head up with his forearms, consciousness blinking on and off. He decided, if anything, to add just one more line he could think of. Everything else was decorated and he could finish it after taking a quick nap. He wrote it down slowly due to fatigue, but still tried his best to make it look neat.

“I love--”

Then somehow passed out while writing with a pen. Though, Thomas used to do that at times so was it really that surprising? He was out cold for a while and even slept past 8 am.

“Logan?” Virgil called, noticing Logan’s absence in the morning from the commons. Then Virgil finally found his boyfriend’s head resting on his desk with a nicely decorated card next to his right arm. He noticed the still full trash can of paper and then picked up the card. He didn’t read the inside yet, wanting to see the other things first. He noticed the equation “I love you” message first and chuckled at such a nerdy detail. Then he found the density formula on the back and smirked. How had he been so blessed as to have had such a caring nerd in his life?

Virgil finally opened the card to see the partially unfinished poem on the left flap and a nicely written closing on the right. He saw his name, so this must’ve been for him.

“I guess he didn’t finish…” Virgil concluded out loud to himself, but he really wanted to read the poem. Logan had written him previous poems and he absolutely loved them. So he read it aloud, mumbling the words under his breath.

but I’d travel the light years. You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars. I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you. You’re nothing short of breathtaking. A star should be named after you. No a nebula. I love…”

Logan had woken up as Virgil was reading the second to last stanza, although wasn’t completely aware of his surroundings yet.

“Morning, dear,” Logan greeted with a yawn, adjusting his glasses and hair as much as he could. He was calm and tired until he saw what Virgil had in his hand and then he was fully awake in an instant.

“I… did you read that?” Virgil nodded slowly, hoping the logical facet wasn’t upset. They sat in silence for a few moments before Virgil, surprisingly, broke the silence.

“Um… I really liked it, actually. Really.” He gave a genuine smile, moving to plant a kiss on Logan’s messy hair.

“Really?” “Yes, I did.” “It’s not even finished or--” Logan almost tripped over his own feet trying to sit up from the chair. It was way too early for this. (It was almost 1 pm).

Virgil laughed as Logan struggled to stand up and move, eventually falling onto his bed face first before slowly turning himself around and sitting up. Virgil made his way over to the bed too with much less stumbling, sitting down next to Logan.

“I assume this-” Virgil pointed at the word “love” at the end of the poem. “-is supposed to say ‘I love you’, right?”

Logan looked at Virgil deliriously for a few seconds before practically diving forward and kissing him. Virgil almost let go of the card, but held on and melted into the kiss, smiling as he did so. Then they both fell backwards onto the bed in suppressed giggles.

“I’ve never seen you this giddy,” Virgil commented teasingly.

Logan pointed an index finger straight up as in an objection. “In my defense, I’m very tired.” They both broke into laughter again. After a few minutes of Logan waking up, he had Virgil give him the card to finish writing out “you” and then gave it back.

“I love it, Logan.” He looked at the now fully visible trash can of drafts. “Man… I wish I made something.”

“It’s okay Virgil, you yourself are enough,” Logan replied, pecking Virgil on the forehead who look assured enough for now.

They eventually made their way downstairs, Virgil still latching onto the card, and had their first Valentine’s Day. It consisted of Virgil constantly complimenting Logan’s card and poem, making him blush, and Logan constantly saying how amazing Virgil is, making him blush as well. They cuddled on the couch and watched a few documentaries about space and other oddities.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.” Logan presses a kiss to Virgil’s lips for the millionth time today.

Virgil smiles into it and responds,”Happy Valentine’s Day, nerd.”

#sander sides #analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #royality but not rlly #patton sanders #roman sanders #sander sides fic #valentines day #kissing #analogical fluff #my fic #lo rambles

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