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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: After rain

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: you learn to cope with the new situation, but you aren't the only one struggling

warnings: 18+, angst and pain, explicit language and other things

author’s note: This part of the story's been with me for... oh, so long. I just hope I did it justice. ✨6,1k words.✨ I don't even know.

Hurt/Comfort.

The song for this part is Dermot Kennedy - After rain

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

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Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

Your hands clenched on the bed’s frame, its coldness felt like the only real thing your drugged mind could process.

Doctor’s words were filling the room, but they were muffled as if they were coming from behind a barrier. Falling from such height...extreme luck...no broken bones…head trauma...internal bruising....

Was all that talking really necessary? Yeah, you were battered, all right. And it seems that even with painkillers the weird throbbing, like a morse code from your bruised cells, was about to stay with you for a little while.

...just like the darkness.

The more the doctor spoke, the more it became clear that they didn’t have any definite answers for you. Seemed like the day spent on being prodded, stabbed with needles, and tossed into various machines resulted in nothing more than a verdict: optic nerve injury.

As for what were you supposed to do now--

“Let me get this straight, doctor,” you said, slowly losing patience. “Your only solution now is: let’s wait and see what happens?”

Drumming fingers against a piece of plastic, followed by a sigh.

“Yes. There is no effective treatment, we could try a high dosage of corticosteroids, but there is no evidence that it’s gonna make any difference, really. And as some recovery may spontaneously occur within days or weeks--”

Weeks.

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you swallowed with effort.

And that was a maybe.

You just wanted to go home.

“Grand,” you cut in, “please tell me I can wait for that possible joyful occurrence anywhere else but here.” You aimed for a lighter tone, but every word coming out of your mouth was dripping with bitterness. Grimacing at your own attitude, you forced a weak smile to appear on your face. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor said with a snicker. “I get it.” A short pause filled with a rustling of paper. “With all the tests done, I don’t think we need to keep you here for observation any longer, but I’d recommend you weren’t alone for the next few days. Do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you?”

“I don’t need--”

Neil’s firm voice overlapped with yours.

“Yes, she has.”

You huffed, startled. And a bit annoyed.

You almost forgot Neil was in the room, but to be fair, you were quite sure he’d never left your side since you woke up. His initial nervous chatter got replaced by a silent presence, always ready to jump in should you needed anything - no matter if it was a glass of water or an arm to lean on. It was all comforting, endearing even, and you were so grateful to have him around, but the thought of having Neil in your apartment triggered an irrational panic.

Instead of dwelling on the roots of the anxiety, you decided to over-talk it.

“Neil, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay, and you surely have better things to do than babysitting me.”

“I don’t.” Was that a hint of hurt in his voice? “Doctor, can you discharge her even if she is gonna be alone out there?”

“I’d rather she spent at least one more day here then.”

Unbelievable. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would make the same effect as always, and groaned. “Fine, you win, only because I want nothing else but to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’ll get the forms and come back to you soon.”

“Thank you, doc,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat.

After spending enough time with a person, it was always easy to recognize them by the way they walk. That’s how you knew it was Neil who approached you, ever so hesitantly.

And only because of a brush of his fingers against your hand you realized you were still clinging onto the bed frame.

“Hey, I’ll just help you set up everything you need there, all right?” he said quietly and you felt him sitting down next to you. “You’re gonna have all the space you want, and as soon as you decide it’s too much, I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

He must have noticed that little panic of yours, huh?

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to form a coherent thought. “It sounds good though, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Neil shifted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t know, but either I’ve slept through the best high or these drugs they gave me are kinda lame.” Hearing Neil’s light chuckle, you cracked a small smile. “Honestly? I’m knackered.”

He hummed with sympathy.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?”

The softness in his voice was more than your tired and dazed mind could handle. You leaned to the side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just… take me home,” you asked, forcing the words past your clenched throat.

Neil exhaled sharply and carefully wrapped an arm around you, pressing a cheek to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

------

“Welcome to my crib.”

“Thank you, it’s...” - Neil hesitated as he closed the door behind you - “...cosy.”

Patting the wall to your right, you located a small hook and hung the keys on it.

“That is certainly one word for it,” you snorted. “Why, what did you expect?”

“Frankly? Considering you’re such an... acclaimed locksmith, I imagined something… well, bigger, for starters.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he stumbled on words, trying so hard not to sound offensive in any way.

Grinning, you put on your most snobbish tone. “Ah, sorry to disappoint, all my gold, glitter, and general pizzaz got moved to one of my many summer houses as my spacious lair worthy of the most infamous thief is under renovation, so I was forced to retreat to my humble family place in this ghastly neighborhood.”

“Such a shame,” he said and a smile brightened his words. “I like it, though. Matches your vibe, somehow.”

“Because it’s small, detached, empty, yet somehow messy?”

Neil sighed in a way you were absolutely sure he was rolling eyes at you, then helped you with the coat. “It’s gonna take more than putting words in my mouth to make me want to leave you here all by yourself, you know.”

You were quite sure a dirty joke was hiding in there, but it eluded your tired brain.

“Damn, need to up my game then,” you giggled, leaning against the wall to take the shoes off without losing your balance. “Nah, I’m messing with you, I’m grateful you got me out of there. Can’t wait to rinse that hospital stench off of me.”

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

You mused over the idea for a moment, “Thanks, I’ll take a shower - two minutes tops and I’d end up asleep in the ‘tub.” Probably even faster, considering that you already were running on fumes. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gonna grab some fresh clothes.”

Neil was not willing to give up.

“I’ll get you--”

“I’ve got this,” you uttered, instantly hating yourself for how harsh it came out, so you quickly added, “But would you please put the kettle on?” sending an apologetic grimace along with your words.

“On it.”

He seemed happy to have something to do. Or at least sounded like it as he took the crackling grocery and takeaway bags to the kitchenette.

You walked across the room with confidence, your hand reluctantly extended ahead on your waist level just in case you miscalculated the route to the bedroom. When you reached the door frame, you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Almost like going to the bathroom at night, not willing to put the light on to avoid waking up, right?

And exactly then, your shin hit the edge of the bed footboard, the impact sending a searing wave of pain up your whole leg. You bit your knuckle to stifle a groan and a curse that was bound to follow. Every. Goddamn. Time.

The noises coming from the other room stopped, but luckily there was no question. Nor a hero coming to rescue you from the sudden and vicious attacks of furniture.

Finally, the closet. Your fingers ran through the folded clothes. Clean underwear. A soft t-shirt. Comfy pj pants. The fatigue was so severe that the term dress to impress didn’t even cross your mind. Not that Neil cared, right? But before you stepped back from the wardrobe, you hesitated, sliding your hands down to one of the bottom drawers. All that boring into nothingness was straining, and keeping your eyes closed all the time felt wrong, somehow. Might as well, you shrugged, pulling out a silky blindfold. Maybe this would trick your brain into thinking it was just a game. A temporary thing. Nothing serious.

...but what if--

You took a shaky breath and slammed the closet shut. Swallowing with effort, you took the clothes and limped out of the room, then followed the wall to the bathroom.

Neil’s concerned voice reached you halfway there.

“You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said and flashed your teeth in a strained grin.

“Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

A change of strategy, then. You certainly didn’t mind, at least this way it didn’t trigger the unnecessarily rude reaction. And you had a feeling that you were going to need a pair of eyes to take care of those bruises of yours.

...or you could just follow the radiating ache and slap some gel where it hurts most, but at this point, as the painkillers were slowly wearing off, it would probably be easier to just pour the whole tube on the tiles and roll over in it.

“Will do, thanks.”

You closed the door behind you and sighed. The undressing required an accompaniment of grunts, hisses and curses, and when you finally got into the shower (hitting yourself only once while doing so) you were all sweaty and panting as if you’d run up twenty flights of stairs.

You winced as the warm water poured over your body, but you couldn’t wait to get rid of the lingering smell of antiseptics. Using soap uncovered the injured spots with a burning precision, but you gritted your teeth and soldiered through it, changing position slightly so you wouldn’t cause more damage with shampoo and conditioner. Condemning your past self for choosing a matching set of hair products, you were forced to guess and pick one to pour a little bit of it on your hand to judge which is which based on the texture of the fluid. Why did you even bother…?

When you were done and more or less dry, you put on the panties and wrapped another towel around yourself. A slow thumping in your head was growing stronger by the minute, but it was still bearable. As for taking care of the bruises… you realized you didn’t even know where the arnica ointment was. You’d bought one on your way just in case, but that meant--

You groaned and rubbed an eye with the back of your hand. Help it was, then.

“Neil?” you called out, cracking open the door.

A sudden rumble of a chair made you cringe, but a corner of your mouth twitched.

“What is it?” he asked as his rushed steps carried him closer.

“Could you help me with putting something on the most banged-up spots, please?” - a sheepish smile crept on your lips - “I thought about just mixing some cream with my lotion and rubbing it all over, but--”

He scoffed as if the idea personally offended him. “Jesus, please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

Your legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but also started to shake as though they were about to give in any moment, so you sat back on the edge of a bathtub with relief.

Neil came back after a while and muffled clanking suggested he brought a full medkit with him. You waited as he washed his hands thoroughly, and you stifled an amused giggle at the dedication, even though it was nothing more but common sense.

Neil’s soft voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna take a look at those wounds first, but for that, I need to touch you, is it okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you shrugged. “I imagine you can’t do plenty without that, huh?”

A light chuckle. “Fair enough.” And featherlike touches that followed.

Careful fingers examining every bruised inch of skin, starting from the freshly hurt shin, scraped knees, going up your thighs until they met the edge of the towel. Then, ghosting over your hands, unhurriedly moving up the forearms…

You realized your breath got shaky.

He tucked a still quite damp strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips glided over your forehead and down your temple, traced your jawline up to your chin. His knuckles grazed your neck, then moved across your collarbones, but when they met the towel again, Neil hesitated.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” you joked playfully and untucked the corner of the towel, letting it slide down your body.

A sharp inhale and a slipped-out curse.

“Christ…” uttered Neil, and you were quite sure what he was referring to. Your hip pulsated with dull pain in the place where the oxygen container had been, or rather where it must have moved to during the escape, bruising the hip bone and surrounding area at the impact.

You forced a crooked smile to your face. “And here I was hoping it looked better than it felt.”

“I can always lie to you if you want,” he offered, aiming for a lighter tone.

Shaking your head, you nibbled on your bottom lip. Somehow, the sole thought of him lying to you seemed like a certain heartache.

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, but maybe that was understandable, given how powerless you felt overall. Or maybe you could stop being so pathetic any moment now.

You closed your eyes, and while you tried to parley with your brain to give you a break, Neil started meticulously treating your wounds, focused on not causing any more discomfort than it was needed. You switched all your attention to his ministrations, grimacing slightly from time to time as he was tending particularly sore spots. Neil’s warm fingers contrasted with the cold ointment, all the different sensations fought a merciless battle to take precedence over one another, making even more of a mess in your tired head.

You heard Neil shifting in front of you as he was about to move to your injured face. Acting on an impulse, you spread your legs to allow him to come closer, and so he did, positioning himself on his knees between your thighs without a word. Quite a concentration, you thought and smiled fondly to your memories of the times you’d seen him so committed to a task. Slightly furrowed brows, blonde strands falling into shining blue eyes, with a bottom lip tugged between the teeth...

A brief touch on your temple brought you back to reality and you gasped, reaching out to hold on to Neil to keep your balance. As you rested your hands on his sides, he gently cupped your face and continued with taking care of the bruises. It felt as if the warmth radiating from him was mending you whole, even more so when it got combined with tender, soothing brushes of Neil’s thumb against your cheek. You melted into his palm and exhaled slowly, dropping your shoulders and relaxing.

Before you could stop the words from spilling out, you said under your breath, “It was just a fall, I don’t know how it got that bad,” voicing the thought that’s been on your head all day.

Neil pulled back abruptly and the tranquil moment shattered like glass against the bathroom tiles.

“Are you being serious right now? Just a fall? You’re lucky you’re alive, goddamnit, let alone able to walk!” Disbelief mixed with anger in his tone, taking you aback. And to your surprise, it felt like yet another wound, inflicted right at your chest. “Y-you hit the wall before you crashed on the ground, you--” his voice broke and Neil sighed. You heard him packing the medkit, simply tossing things inside before he moved away.

“Oh,” was all you could say, reaching for the abandoned towel to wrap it over your shoulders, in a sudden and desperate need to cover yourself. In every way possible. “Remind me to tie a cat and a buttered slice of bread to myself the next time we do this.”

He didn’t respond to your poor attempt at lighting up the mood, instead, you heard the door handle, a deadpanned “I’ll heat up the food” and he was gone.

You had no idea where his reaction had come from. Normally, you’d have followed him straight away to confront him, but right then you felt so exhausted and helpless you just slouched in your spot, with your hands fisted on the towel, and sat like that for a while, leveling your breath. You mustered all the strength you had left, found your clothes and put them on. Then, you tied the blindfold, letting a piece of sleek material bring a shred of comfort and hide a pitiful glimmer in the corners of your eyes.

You joined Neil in the other room and sat at the table. He didn’t comment on your attire nor the choice of accessories, hell, he barely even spoke to you when he put the plate in front of you, as well as through the whole meal.

Even though you’d picked up your favourite comfort food on the way, it tasted bland, and with your stomach tied into a knot, you couldn’t force more than a few bites into your system. Judging by the sounds - or rather the lack thereof - coming from across the table, Neil’d lost his appetite too.

Finally, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m full,” you said and stood up, grimacing slightly.

“I’ll do the dishes, go lie down,” he said quietly. “Please.”

As if he anticipated an argument. You really had no energy for that.

“Thank you. Are you--...” you stumbled on the question, but Neil chimed in.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

...maybe it was for the best.

You nodded and turned on your heel to fetch a spare pillow and a blanket while Neil was occupied with the dishes. The ever-growing headache was becoming unbearable, but you hoped that the sweet arms of Morpheus would bring a much-needed release soon. You brushed your teeth quickly and mumbling “‘night,” you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door half open for god knows what reasons. Perhaps to make you feel less alone.

The plan of sleeping off the worst pain looked good on paper but proved to be too hard to execute. That bloody awful feeling of being tired beyond comprehension and still unable to doze off, right? You tossed and turned (although carefully), trying to find the most comfortable position. After a while, you took the blindfold off and curled on your side, staring into the nothingness again. Listening to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Forcing every breath through your clenched chest. Trying to focus on anything other than neverending soreness.

You heard Neil’s footsteps and how they stopped right at your door. Stalling.

And you didn’t even try pretending you were asleep. Waiting.

“Hey... I wanted to check if you need anything before I turn in for the night.”

The softness of his voice was tainted by something as if he was holding back. But you were so glad to hear it anyway.

“Actually,” you said, propping yourself on the elbow and wincing, “could you bring me one of those fancy painkillers, please? I thought I might do without for a little while but-- ...yeah, not quite.”

“Of course, coming right up.”

When Neil was back, you sat on the bed, allowing him to hand you a glass and ...a shot glass? You shook the latter slightly and something rattled inside.

“Ah, okay, smart,” you smiled with recognition. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you thought it was vodka?”

A hint of amusement in his tone made you snort.

“I can’t say I would mind,” - shrugging, you swallowed the pill and washed it down with cool water - “but this is gonna be more efficient, I guess.”

You shifted in your spot to put down both glasses on a bedside table. Neil was there to make sure you actually placed them on top of it, pushing your forearm gently when you were about to create a mess.

That light touch brought a lump back to your throat. As if the awkward silence wasn’t suffocating you enough.

“If that’s all…” said Neil quietly, taking a step towards the door.

But you reached out into the darkness and found his hand.

“Neil…” you squeezed his fingers, desperately trying to convey words that eluded you. Your plea was barely a whisper. “...stay?”

The pulse pounded in your ears as the stillness that followed seemed to last forever.

Then, Neil squeezed your hand back.

“I will,” he choked out, and his thumb grazed over your knuckles. “Be right back.”

You nodded and let go of his hand, not even sure that he could see your gesture, then moved to the other side of the bed. The held-back breath escaped in a shudder as another wave of pain overrode your senses, leaving a trail of cold sweat down your spine.

A faint tock of the light switch in the other room, then footsteps and a pillow landing next to yours. Neil snuggled down, keeping his distance, and you curled again in your spot, hoping that his proximity will calm you down enough to fall asleep. But as you said your goodnights and Neil’s breath leveled and got deeper, you still waited on the pills to start working, getting more and more lost in your own head and thoughts you’d managed to keep lidded on until now.

Because if only you’d cracked that safe faster. Or maybe if you’d discussed that escape route beforehand, somebody would have found a better path through the roofs. No, scratch that, the plan was tight, and it was your goddamn fault that you’d gotten distracted by a sodding rain, of all things. And that jump? Bloody amateur hour. Should have seen that coming, stepped to the side, or caught onto anything. You’d been granted a second chance at that wall. But no, you’d had to panic like a bush-leaguer, as if it had been your first fall in your life. And now you were lying there, feeling sorry for yourself. Abso-fucking-lutely pathetic.

What if Madame Karma finally decided to make you pay? What if you were never going to get your sight back? A warm tear trickled down your face slowly. No more free runs and adrenaline rushes while taking shortcuts through the most obscure places. No more lying on the rooftops to observe how the sky changes colours through the night. No more sitting on the hill and watching how the sun reflected in the river. How it danced on that messy blonde hair. You would never see his blue eyes lighting up again--

Your chin trembled as the tears stained your pillow. It felt as if you were nothing but pain, fear, and heartbreak. Pressing your lips together, you stifled a sob that shook your body mercilessly. You were nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to brush it off, to tell him you were okay and he could go back to sleep. But instead, you sniffled and whimpered, unable to pass any word through your tightened throat.

Neil gasped and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, come here,” he said softly as his fingers pressed lightly onto your back, urging you to move and you shifted into his embrace, clenching your fists on his t-shirt, struggling for every breath. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, wrapping the arms around you gingerly. A much-needed reassurance whispered over and over again like a plea to anyone who could be listening.

Weeping quietly into Neil’s chest, you sought refuge in his closeness, clinging onto him as he held you and stroked your hair, waiting for the worst to pass. Soon, you ran out of tears, and there were just sobs, convulsing you whole like a heart-wrenching hiccup. Neil hugged you a little tighter, placed a small kiss on top of your head, and started humming, a melody barely more than a murmur. It felt familiar, but why?

By and by, the song and a steady heartbeat against your cheek weaved together and calmed your racing mind. Enough to finally let you drift off, with Neil’s soothing voice and warmth enveloping you, bringing comfort and hope for a better tomorrow.

-----

You should have known better than to expect something to be different when you woke up. Swallowing down the disappointment and resignation, you dug yourself up from under the covers. The pain dialed down, but was very much there, especially during sudden moves.

Maybe you would feel better if you washed your face, still a bit puffed after all that--

…oh shit.

Your brain halted, torn between making you cringe and spreading the warmth through your chest. If you were to survive the day, the key was not to think about what happened last night. At least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes, huh? Armed with a smile, albeit a bit sour, you grabbed some clothes on your way out and ventured into the quiet living room.

“Neil?”

For a split second you were sure he was gone, but--

“Over here.” Judging by the sound of it, here was somewhere near the couch. “How are you feeling?”

Concern. Obviously. He’d seen you at your worst, so there was no point in hiding your state.

“Like I’ve spent some time inside a cement mixer,” you sighed. “But better, thanks. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 o’clock.” A faint thud of a book being put down. “Are you hungry? I was about to fix something.”

It was a good moment for your insides to growl in confirmation, but at least this time your body decided to spare you. Although your stomach was pretty much cleaving to your backbone, all right.

“Oh yes, please.” You smiled with appreciation and raised a hand with a bundle of clothes. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

That minute took a little longer, as your mobility was still pretty lacking, but fresh as a (beaten-up) daisy, in a comfortable outfit and a blindfold, you followed your nose to the kitchenette.

“Smells delicious.”

A soft chuckle came through the sizzling. “Hope it tastes good as well, wanna try?” When you nodded, you heard Neil walking up to you. “Open your mouth, careful - it’s hot.”

You recognized the rich flavor as some variation of the Napoli sauce, perfectly balanced, and you could only hum in approval. Where the hell had he gotten those herbs from?

“It’s amazing,” you said, but couldn’t resist a little smirk, “or I’m just starving.”

Neil scoffed lightly. “Might be that.” There was a smile and a hint of pride in his tone, and it made you beam a little wider. “Come sit down.”

When you did, and a bowl of pasta landed in front of you on the table, your mind involuntarily went back to last evening. That tension. Sudden distance. Everything after that. What was worse, it seemed like you weren’t the only one thinking about it, because the silence that fell between you now grew heavy with unresolved issues lingering in the air.

But maybe you were misreading the room and you were fine.

“Listen, about yesterday--”

...or not.

Instead of letting Neil finish, you panicked, and before you could stop yourself, you used his moment of hesitation to blurt out, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was exhausted and everything hurt and--” you frowned and hid the face in your palm. The shame felt like a tightening ring around your chest, making it hard to breathe. ”I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Wait, what?” huffed Neil, his voice filled with consternation. ”Jesus, no, that’s not what I meant, I--” he faltered and groaned, then added more softly, “Why are you even apologizing for that?” And when you shook your head, unable to find the right words, Neil gently touched your arm, rubbing it up and down slowly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Your heart clenched with fondness as you palmed over his hand.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

A twist of the wrist and a light squeeze on your fingers.

“Of course.”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a moment, you asked quietly, “If it isn’t about that, then what?”

A loud buzz cut through the air, the unexpected noise almost making you jump in your seat. Impeccable timing.

Neil picked the vibrating phone from the table. “It’s work, I have to get that.” His hand was still holding yours, reluctant to let go. “If I’m not done by the time you finish eating, two words: bed rest.”

“May I make it a couch rest, doc?” you grinned, and by the resigned sigh you could tell Neil definitely rolled his eyes at you.

“Just make yourself comfy and horizontal, all right?” A final brush of his thumb against your fingers and he was up, walking off from the table. “Hi, what’s up?”

Whatever they needed him for, it took so much time that you finished your meal and obediently moved to the couch. That unfinished talk left you anxious enough to nervously pick at the edge of the blanket, but as Neil was still lost in a hushed conversation, and the aforementioned blanket was way too cosy, you slowly drifted off into a dreamless nap.

You weren’t sure what woke you up - a shift on the other side of the couch, or a heavy sigh, one of those signaling the weight of the whole world on somebody’s shoulders. Hearing the latter was enough to wipe the remains of sleep from your system and you sat up, grunting slightly.

“What is it?”

Another sigh.

“I’m an idiot.”

You puffed your cheeks and shrugged, a corner of your mouth twitching in a nervous smile.

“Before I let out a purposeful no and kick you - why are you saying that?” Silence. “...Neil?” When the answer was not coming for too long, you moved to your knees, reaching out until you touched his shoulder. No reaction. Trying to keep a rising worry at bay, you urged him quietly, “Talk to me, please.”

Neil inhaled slowly and he finally spoke, his voice barely there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, knitting your brows together as you brushed your hand down his arm only to find his clenched fist, tightening even further under your touch.

“For yesterday, for letting it out on you, when you were just--” he paused to swallow audibly, and then continued, blurting out one strained word after another, “and all of that while this whole mess is my goddamn fault because if I hadn’t hesitated out there, we both would have made it in time--”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that to yourself,” you said, crawling into his lap and nestling between his legs, wrapping yours around his waist. “It was a perfectly normal reaction.” The pulse thumped in your ears when you placed one hand on Neil’s chest and the other one travelled up along his neck to cup his face. Then your thumb glided over a wet trail on his cheek and it felt as if your heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh please, no. “My darling...” you whispered, but it was as if Neil barely acknowledged you were there, trembling and lost.

He pressed his forehead to yours and continued, traces of dread ringing in his hollow tone more and more with every choked-out sentence.

“When I turned back and I saw that--….at first, I thought you’d been shot, then you fell and-- suddenly all I could think was if your oxygen container was intact, or--... I called the Cavalry on the way down but I was so scared I was too late, I thought--” his voice broke and you felt him frowning as he shuddered, struggling to carry on. “I thought that you were gone, and I didn’t--”

His heart raced under your palm while you kept stroking his cheek, consoling him softly, “Neil, I’m here, it’s all right, I’m here.” But when that didn’t seem like enough to bring him back to you, you reached to his neck to pull him closer and kissed him, desperate to make him stop spiralling down. To make him stop hurting.

A muffled whine against your lips. But then you felt him melt and he kissed you back, still helpless, wrapping his arms around you carefully as if he expected you to fall apart under his touch. Not quite there. You deepened the kiss purposefully, burying your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as you pressed yourself to him as much as you could in your position. You didn’t care about your own pain or discomfort. If any of you were meant to be lost in any way, it might as well be this. Neil gasped and lifted you up so you properly straddled him, then tightened the embrace, clinging on to you for dear life as he captured you in another kiss, and this time it was his turn to try to convey the unbearable mixture of despair, relief, and immense longing. All of that poured into this simple act of devotion until there was nothing but pure need. To touch and to be touched. To hold and to be held. To be close. To be wanted. To be found.

A breathless moan escaped your mouth and Neil pulled back ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his fingertips gliding over your features.

Oh, how much you missed looking into his eyes.

The fact that he cared, without simply going ahead with it, made your chest clench with fondness. At this point, you trusted him beyond reason, although it was still nice to hear it.

“I’m not made of glass,” you huffed, nuzzling his nose.

A low hum and a trail of kisses along your jawline. You shivered when his lips reached a spot just below your ear and then smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his husky voice was playful, but you knew he was double-checking.

“Try me.”

That moment was not about chasing the high. It was about feeling each other. Being with one another. As close as possible. That couldn’t wait, and neither could any of you, tugging at the clothes in random order with urgency.

Neil looped his arm around your shoulders, settling you on your side in his embrace. Keeping you steady. Safe. Close. And even though his kisses were desperate and leaving you winded, his touch was gentle, and you knew the blue eyes were watching you attentively, ready to react to the smallest sign of discomfort. But also to any encouragement to go further.

A hitched breath. A leg hooked on his hip. Fingers dragged across his back.

He was ready to give you everything and take whatever you were willing to offer. And you wanted to do the same for him until everything else lost its meaning and it was just you and him, and the fire that burned inside you. Searing every nerve. Cleansing the doubts. Numbing the pain. Lighting up the darkness. And, in the end, bringing resolution as you both came undone, moaning and gasping for air only to be comforted by hands cupping cheeks and yet another kiss. Slow. Tender. Full of admiration.

When Neil drew back and shifted slightly, you whined in protest, wrapping your leg around him tighter to keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

A quiet chuckle, followed by a feeling of a soft blanket sliding over your naked body. And a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You sighed with content as Neil pulled you closer again. The light stubble scratched your fingers as they studied the impossible angles of his face unhurriedly.

“Good.”

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #long nights

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smmahamazing · 4 years ago

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Rounding out your Valentine’s Day with one last fic for the @inudayoflove2021 !!!

Summary: It’s White Day. Inuyasha and Kagome have been dating for a month, and Inuyasha has planned a nice evening for the two of them. Except Inuyasha has something a little sweet prepared for Kagome in hopes of getting a little steamy with her. What happens when Kagome has a similar idea? Set in the Cowboy Blues Universe. Rated E for smut.

Let me tell you, this chapter has truly taken it out of me. This is my first foray into writing smut, and y’all that is hard. But in the end, it’s been worth all the trouble in the world. Next month exactly will be ONE YEAR since I started writing. And that’s kind of crazy to me. I have six posted stories with an entire google drive of wips that scream at me day in and day out LOL. All because of a little White Day one shot that grew into a 23k story, with another 8k of one-shots, all set in the same universe. I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate than with Inukag’s first time! Thank you so much to @clementinesgulag , who has also drawn a very sweet 😏😏😏piece of artwork for this chapter, and I’m so excited for y’all to see it!!! If you haven’t already, check out all the different fics with the Day of Love Collection on AO3!

Anyways, I’m dedicating this chapter to all you guys out there. This fandom has been an amazing part of my life this past year, and I’m so happy to be involved with such a great group of people. This past year has been crazy, but you guys have been worth it. I hope you all enjoy!!!

A special shoutout to @underwater0phelia for helping me with a few trouble sections! You're the greatest darling❤❤❤

Inuyasha loved routine. More specifically, he loved routine whenever his brain started to think too much about certain subjects.

Today was Mr. Tanaka's quarterly oil change. Mr. Tanaka had been a loyal customer dating back to the first week he had officially opened his doors for business. He told Inuyasha that he reminded him of a younger version of himself, and that he was happy to see a young man such as himself take a risk into opening his own business. Mr. Tanaka's kind words had really helped motivate Inuyasha through the good times and the bad times that first year, and so to thank him, Inuyasha gave the older gentleman a fair discount on any and all services, and let no one else service the vehicle.

Over the years, Inuyasha gained enough employees that he really didn't need to service any of the vehicles that came into the shop. He dealt with enough paperwork and general bureaucratic shit that, most days, he willingly let the boys take care of the line up.

But days like today were nice. Fantastic, really. Loud, heavy alternative rock blared through the speakers of a giant stereo as Inuyasha made quick work of the tiny honda. It was easy for Inuyasha to get all wrapped up in the monotony of his work. Today, Inuyasha had been more anxious than usual, so he decided to go ahead and perform a full diagnostic package on Mr. Tanaka's car. The extra work would help keep Inuyasha's mind focused.

The problem was that White Day was next week, and Inuyasha had absolutely no idea what to get Kagome. They had only been dating for about a month and Inuyasha was struggling with the decision of how grand of a gesture he wanted to make.

When he was growing up, the giving norm was usually either chocolate or candy, and sometimes flowers depending on the relationship of the giver towards the recipient. Given the short amount of time they had been together, chocolate seemed like a good direction to head towards, but Inuyasha had been overanalyzing the entire situation for several days now.

The main reason for his anxiety came from his already deep feelings for a girl he's only known for a month. Inuyasha truly enjoyed talking to and spending time with Kagome. They were constantly texting each other; asking a variety of questions about their lives and the things that they thought defined them. Random pictures broke up the mass of their text bubbles. Kagome had been given leeway from her boss to experiment with all different kinds of cakes, so practically everyday was an image of a new cake, decorated all cutesy for the romantic holiday.

The rational part of his brain told him to just get her a nice box of chocolates and flowers and enjoy a nice evening together. But Kagome deserved more effort than just purchasing a random box of chocolates. An ideal gift would be to make her something - she seemed like the type of girl to love homemade gifts - but to Inuyasha, the idea was….daunting, and a little embarrassing. Inuyasha knew enough about cooking and baking to just get him by, but he didn’t feel confident enough to make something for a woman whose career was based on cooking and baking. Not like Kagome would laugh at him or make fun of anything he made, but it was an insecurity Inuyasha couldn't seem to shake when put in front of his professional girlfriend.

It didn't help that the irrational part of his brain wanted to give her something more than just chocolate.

Despite being together for about a month, they hadn't had sex yet. Not because neither of them didn't want to, they just …never brought the subject up. The more they talked, the more Inuyasha began to realize how much he liked her, and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the easy going relationship they had now.

In reality, he just didn't want to scare her off by demanding sex. Nor did he want to demand sex from her, he just wanted things to happen naturally. Before he knew it, a month had flown by.

Several hours passed before Inuyasha finally decided he couldn’t keep Mr. Tanaka's car in the shop any longer. He dragged his feet to the hand washing sink, taking his time to scrub the grease from his hands and the dirt off his forearms.

Mr. Tanaka always came first thing in the morning before most people were functioning enough to stop by, so the waiting room had several more people in it then when he started working on the car.

"Mr. Tanaka," Inuyasha announced, grabbing a free computer at the front desk to pull up the service information. Mr. Tanaka stood with a smile on his face and walked up to him.

"She's all good I assume?"

"Yup, fit as a fiddle. Gave her a good once over, which is why it took a little longer than normal. On the house."

"Ahh, Inuyasha my boy, you're too good to me."

Inuyasha chuckled as the computer calculated the total, and he prompted Mr. Tanaka to insert his credit card into the card reader.

"So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Inuyasha asked.

"Oh, I'm going to spend the afternoon with the grandchildren, maybe go out for a stroll and a banana split at the nice ice cream joint not far from my house. How about yourself?"

"Just take out for me and my girl tonight, nothing exciting,"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, " Mr. Tanaka said with a glint in his eyes. "Every evening with your woman is special. "

Inuyasha snorted at his statement, grabbing the receipt that just finished printing and giving it to the older man. "Alright old man, I'll see you in another three months."

"Alright then, Inuyasha. Don't work too hard now!" Mr. Tanaka says with a sly look on his face. Inuyasha merely rolled his eyes at the joke the older gentleman made every time he brought his car in. Inuyasha always thought him a strange man; despite doing good business, not everyone wanted to stay and chat with a hanyou, but Inuyasha tried not to think about it too much. If his mother was alive, she'd say something about how "people can always surprise you" or "there's still good in the world, Inuyasha". He tried to think about those theoretical statements when he was faced with an actual nice person.

With Mr. Tanaka's car finished, Inuyasha walked back out to the garage to finish cleaning up his station. There was some paperwork to be done, but he was hoping today would be busy enough to justify him working on the floor instead.

'Maybe a little snack first,' Inuyasha thought as he held his hand up to his rumbling stomach. Now the only question was, sweet or savory? Mr. Tanaka and his grandkids were still on the edge of his brain, thinking maybe Kagome would be up for getting a carton of rocky road tonight to share.

That was when the idea hit him. It came in small bursts, just split second images his brain conjured up to give him an idea of what it would look like. It was something Inuyasha had never done before. Kikyo kept their sex life pretty...vanilla. Not that this idea was all that out there, but the whole thing would definitely feel a little odd to someone who really only used the missionary position in his last relationship.

It was definitely something Inuyasha would probably like - just the thought of it was already starting to wake up his lower brain - but would Kagome? Would she misconstrue the situation somehow? Would she be into that kind of thing?

One thing was for certain; Inuyasha needed to continue this line of thought in his private office, not amongst all his employees. He found his assistant manager and confirmed their current appointments for the next several hours before locking himself in the office to come up with ways to make this little "idea" of his work.

~~~

It was just starting to get dark when Kagome pulled up to her normal spot at Inuyasha's apartment. She killed the engine as soon as she put the car in park, but didn't make a move yet to open the door and make her way over to his apartment. This way, Kagome wouldn't be able to chicken out or drive away. Eventually, the cooler air outside would make its way in and lower the temperature in the car, prompting her that her time to sit around has come to an end.

Kagome didn't even know what she was so nervous about anyway. It was going to be just another date night with Inuyasha, perfectly normal and entertaining.

‘Oh yeah, because showing up at your boyfriend’’s house in nothing but lingerie is definitely normal,’ Kagome thought, shifting around in her seat a little and making herself much more aware of exactly what she was wearing and why.

She had been dating Inuyasha for just about a month now, and they had yet to “do the deed”. Which, if she was honest, Kagome wasn’t sure if that was odd or normal for a relationship. Her past relationships had been so varied, ranging from sex on the first date to no sex at all, or even pretty much only sex with little to no substance.

Kagome didn’t think it was because he didn’t want to. They had been texting back and forth practically everyday since their first date at that ramen shop. Inuyasha even made it a point to come to the diner for lunch just so they could see each other - which totally didn’t make her heart flutter, no siree. They just hadn’t really had the...opportunity to express their interest for each other in that way yet.

The plan for tonight was to just have a simple dinner at Inuyasha’s, and maybe pop in a movie during dessert. Very relaxed and extremely intimate. It was actually Kagome’s idea of a perfect date. Sure, going out to eat together is always nice, and spending the day out and about can create a lot of great memories, but she craved the closeness one could get when you were comfortable in your own home.

Kagome had some slight alterations to go with their evening plans It was simple: walk inside, seduce her hot boyfriend, and fuck him into next week. She still wasn’t sure where dinner and a movie fell between it all; she was just going to have to wing it. Earlier in the week, Kagome had made a stop at the mall and purchased a most alluring piece of lingerie.

It was a fairly simple garment, which was good because Kagome couldn’t even begin to wonder how she’d get into some of the lingerie she looked at. She was pretty sure some of them could double as their own sex toys. In the end, she chose two different colors of a two piece bra and panty set - one in red, which she was currently wearing, and one in green, her favorite color. It was made from a soft silk with floral lace borders around the edges of the cup of the bra and the elastic of the panties. Overall, it was a very comfortable fit, which is what greatly prompted Kagome to purchase two.

However, the real stars of the show were the crotchless panties and the cupless bra.

Despite its simplicity, it was the raunchiest piece of lingerie that Kagome had ever purchased.

It was still chilly outside, requiring her to wear her purple peacoat to and from the car, but the only other piece of clothing Kagome wore was a random slip dress she found buried deep in one of her dresser drawers. She was actually pretty sure it was meant to go over your bathing suit when visiting the local swimming pool or beach, but with only three buttons and a waist tie, the garment was perfect for easy removal. She rounded out the whole outfit with the most expensive pair of black stiletto heels she owned, and hoped that Inuyasha didn't question its...quirkiness.

Well, she was wearing an old pair of boyshorts over the crotchless panties, but Kagome just felt too awkward driving without a proper pair of underwear on.

'Alright Kagome, time to get your butt in gear,' she thought, giving her cheeks a few good slaps to motivate her. With a deep inhale, she carefully shimmied out of the boyshorts and tossed them into the backseat before grabbing her purse and stepping out of the car to walk towards Inuyasha's apartment.

She knocked on the door, running her hands through her hair to fix any errant strands the wind may have moved. After about thirty seconds, she could hear Inuyasha's muffled reply to ‘come on in’, like he was on the opposite side of the apartment. It was unusual of him - he never failed to greet her at the door the few times she had been over - but she reminded herself they had only been dating for a month. Plus, he was probably still getting things ready. No big deal.

He must have anticipated not being quite ready for her arrival, seeing as the door was already unlocked. She quickly stepped in and locked the door behind her, taking off her coat and hanging it, along with her purse, on one of the hooks beside the door. She forewent taking her shoes off though, since they were a part of the whole 'fuck me' look she was attempting to pull off.

Looking into the living room, there were a few extra blankets and pillows stacked on the ottoman, but nothing looked particularly different. The apartment was always pretty clean due to Inuyasha's sensitive nose - he had a hard time dealing with dust - although it looked like he did a quick wipe down throughout the room not that long ago.

Inuyasha didn't have a space set up for a dining table since he normally ate by himself , but he had taken the time to set up a couple of placemats for them at the bar that separated the kitchen and living room. Each spot had its own dinner plate, salad bowl, utensils, and wine glass all ready to be filled. Placed on either side of them and in front of them were three long candlesticks in their own respective holder.

The whole scene put a soft smile on her face as she tenderly touched each piece. She had yet to see Inuyasha, but tonight was already turning out to be the perfect date. It was obvious to see the work he put into making this dinner special for them. The plates looked like they came from his own cupboard, but she was pretty sure he went out to buy candles to set the mood.

Kagome was beginning to get a little anxious to find Inuyasha, but the smells coming from the kitchen were strong enough to tear her away from her search. There were a couple of pots on the stove over a low flame. Nothing smelled like it was burning, but what kind of cook would Kagome be if she didn't take a quick peek at some unattended pots?

That's what she told herself, anyways, as she slowly lifted the lid to the pot on the right hand burner. The pleasant aroma of tomatoes and garlic filled the immediate area, and Kagome inhaled it deeply. Inside the pot was what looked to be meatballs, simmering in a homemade tomato sauce. Kagome took hold of the spoon being used to stir the sauce and snuck a quick taste.

She closed her eyes, groaning slightly in satisfaction. The sauce was tangy and savory, a hint of sweetness found in the aftertaste. Kagome might have been the professional chef between them, but Inuyasha never gave himself enough credit when it came to his own cooking. Growing up as a hanyou, he always had to be careful with foods that could possibly be too spicy or over seasoned, and he learned that it was sometimes better to just cook your own food.

Not to mention the fact that there were few things more attractive than your boyfriend cooking a meal for you.

Kagome set the lid back on the pot to go looking for the hanyou in question. She hadn't seen Inuyasha since she came in, and a quick peek behind the balcony curtains told her he wasn't outside either, which left the bathroom and bedroom.

There were three doors down in the back hallway. The first door on the left - which was left open and clearly empty - was the bathroom, with a small storage closet directly across from it. Kagome walked right past both doors in favor of the closed bedroom door; the storage closet was small and cramped, not big enough to fit even the small built Kagome inside with the door closed, and so, inconsequential to Kagome's mind.

She stood in front of the bedroom door, suddenly nervous now that the sight of cooked food couldn't distract her. She still had no idea how tonight was going to pan out, or how Inuyasha would react to her advances. Kagome took another deep breath to relax her shoulders, making herself stand just a little bit taller.

She was a Higurashi after all, dammit! Known for their stubbornness and determination, there was no obstacle they couldn't climb. In fact, there was nothing for her to be nervous about at all. She was an attractive woman, he was an attractive man. This was just the natural next step that many people took in their relationships, and damn it all, she was gonna seduce the hell out of him.

Yet, she wasn't expecting the sight that laid before her as she opened the door. At all.

Her breath hitched as wide eyes landed on Inuyasha sprawled out on the bed.

Completely naked.

Well, was he considered completely naked if his dick was just barely covered? It was an errant thought that crossed her mind, despite how unnecessary it was at the moment.

Kagome didn't think she'd ever seen a sight as glorious as Inuyasha, propped up by a couple of pillows, one arm bent behind his head, the other laying across his stomach. She had yet to see Inuyasha without a shirt on, and found she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bulging muscles in his arms, or the rippling six-pack he sported. He looked like he could have been carved by Michaelangelo himself, an Adonis covered in whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and caramel, topped with a bright red maraschino cherry on top.

Kagome was sure she was about to develop a sweet tooth of her own.

She took a quick second to notice the overall look of the room. He had the same long stemmed candles placed strategically around the room, offering the only source of light. Beside him on the bedside table was all the fixings - the chocolate sauce, caramel, whipped cream, even a jar of strawberry jam.

'Oh my God, is this what he meant by having banana splits for dessert?' she thought, remembering the text conversation they had as she was getting ready earlier. Inuyasha hadn't told her what he was making for dinner, but he had asked her if she liked banana splits. Which she had replied to him that of course she did, who didn't?

Well, one thing for sure was that she'd never look at a banana split the same way again.

Neither of them knew how long she had been standing there for, but Inuyasha was getting more nervous by the second. She hadn't said anything when she entered the room, just stood there staring at him with this weird look in her eyes.

The last five minutes had been stressful for him, to say the least. Inuyasha hadn't wanted to put the whipped cream on too soon and have it start melting on him, so he waited until he could hear her soft knocking at the front door before getting himself all set up.

He had no idea how long it would take Kagome to make her way to the bedroom. She was far too curious for her own good to just sit out there waiting for him, but how many things would distract her on her way to the bedroom was the real question. Still, as soon as he heard the front door close, he got to work, covering his very erect penis with the whipped cream - just the thought of what her mouth would be doing to him soon was enough to get him going - and using deft hands to flourish it with the chocolate and caramel. He saved the cherry for the moment right before she opened the door, not wanting it to slide off and ruin the masterpiece he had concocted.

Surprisingly, he wasn't all that nervous as he was getting ready. It was when she finally came in and just stared that set his nerves on fire. What was she thinking? Did she like the view or was she trying to figure out how to get out of the situation entirely? He didn't really know what her scent smelled of when she was aroused, so he felt like he was walking into the fire blind.

He couldn't take it anymore. The silence was killing him, he was sure of it. He didn't know what he was going to say to her, but anything was better than nothing.

"Kagome,"

Hearing her name must have startled her from her own thoughts. She looked at him now - really looked at him - and what he saw in her eyes was pure determination.

Inuyasha didn't think he had ever been so terrified in his life. It was at this moment he realized that he really didn't know all that much about Kagome. Sure, they had been talking back and forth, constantly texting about their favorite movies or the places they like to frequent or comparing allergies, but that was just the small stuff. He had no idea what this look in her eyes meant.

And then, she showed him.

If he was worried about what she thought about his "gift" to her, her next actions put those thoughts to bed.

She slowly unbuttoned the dress she was wearing, sensually untying the waist tie until it opened and floated to the floor, bearing herself to him.

Inuyasha had to stifle the urge to whine. He had never seen a sight as alluring as Kagome, standing before him with her hair down over her shoulders in a bright red lingerie set. This wasn't like any lingerie set Inuyasha had ever seen. The cups to the bra covered the tops of her breasts more than most bras might, but he had a clear view of her dusky pink nipples poking through a set of holes in each cup.

The candlelight put the most tantalizing shadows against the muscles in her arms down to her toned calves, which was exaggerated even more by the black high heels she wore. And as his eyes wandered up and down her body, he was pretty sure they were crotchless, judging by the shape of the panties.

His first thought was that she looked like a snack, but he'd be lying - she was a whole goddamn meal.

"Is this for me?" she asked, walking up to the end of the bed, jutting her hips out with each step.

It sort of felt like an out of body experience, like she had control of her body but also not at the same time? Every step to the bed was fueled by a slowly rising arousal. Her mouth was beginning to water; she hadn't expected to do dessert before dinner, but she supposed she could break the rules just this once. After all, it would be rude to not immediately accept this most generous...gift.

"Ye - yeah," Inuyasha answered, trying to sound suave instead of like some virginal teenager. He wasn't so sure he was succeeding, but Kagome didn't seem to mind as she continued to get closer to him, bending down to lean her hands against the bed, giving him a fantastic view of her chest.

He couldn't control the twitch in his cock as she began to fully lift herself onto the bed. Kagome didn't miss it either, giving him a devilish smirk as she crawled her way to him. It made him feel like prey being stalked by a predator, which was a weird change in his bedroom dynamics. He had always been the more dominant party when he was with Kikyo, but he was finding that he didn't mind the change all that much.

Not when a beautiful woman like Kagome was looking like she was going to devour him.

And that was exactly what she planned to do.

Kagome gingerly put her hands on his calves, causing Inuyasha to take in a sharp inhale. He hadn't been expecting her touch, and it made him take in a sharp inhale. He expected her to dive straight in, but she leaned over to the right side of the bed instead, bringing her bare nipples dangerously close to his face.

Inuyasha turned his head away slightly and closed his eyes, not sure if he could stand to look at her much longer before losing his patience and having his way with her. The bed shifted back to normal a second later, and Inuyasha opened his eyes to find she had grabbed the chocolate sauce and the jar of caramel.

Kagome desperately wanted a taste of him, but she also wanted to make this whole experience last. She wanted to tease and torture him until he couldn't take it anymore and took her instead.

"Do you mind getting a little sticky?"

Inuyasha's eyes started to darken as her plans for him slowly became clear. So she wanted to tease him a little, huh? That was fine by him. He was sure he'd let her do whatever she wanted.

"I'm your blank canvas Kagome,"

'Smooth'

Inuyasha watched her face flush at his words and he subconsciously opened his chest up in pride at being the one to cause it. She looked so cute flustered, and he couldn't wait to see it again when she was underneath him.

Kagome took his words to heart and opened the top to the chocolate sauce. Moving over to his left side for a better angle, she started at his face, taking the bottle and carefully squeezing it over his skin - over his lips, on the apple of his cheeks, on his nose, sculpting the jaw.

And then she started moving downward, dotting all down his neck, not wanting it to run too much given the angle. When she reached his chest, she began drawing intricate lace designs over his pecs. Inuyasha could see the absolute focus in her eyes as she drew, almost as if she had done this before. She worked in a restaurant, and Inuyasha was pretty sure he remembered her saying she even did some baking, so she most likely had done this before. On a cake at least.

When she was done with the chocolate, she grabbed the jar of caramel and began painting him with that as well. Inuyasha had taken the honey dipper from his mother's old honey jar to make it easier to decorate with, and Kagome used it to accent the major chocolate work on his skin. She took extra care covering his nipples and belly button.

Kagome was about to get to work when she looked up and realized she had forgotten to take the strawberry jam. She went all out on covering his chest, so that was a no go. She scrunched her face up a little, thinking about what she could do with it, when suddenly the idea hit her.

"Hand me the strawberry jam?" she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes at him.

He did as she asked, going as far as opening the jar before handing it to her. She tossed him a sweet smile before taking hold of his left hand and dipping each finger into the jam. She gestured for him to take the jar back, watching him grab it with his free hand. She wanted until right before the jar was going to hit the table, and took his thumb into her mouth.

Just as she thought would happen, the jar clattered onto the table, the strange sensation of Kagome sucking on his fingers taking away all brain functions.

Inuyasha had never had someone suck on his fingers before, and if you had asked him prior to tonight if that was something he'd be into, Inuyasha would have probably answered with a scrunched face and a "hard no". Now though? He could see the pros.

She thoroughly cleaned his fingers, wrapping her tongue languidly around each digit and sucking hard enough to feel the blood flow temporarily stop. Inuyasha couldn't keep in the low moan as he imagined her using that tongue in the same way on his cock.

She gave him a break by starting with the chocolate on his face next. She pressed the flat of her tongue against each cheek, using the tip to sensually lick the chocolate off his nose and along his jaw, ending her explorations of his face with a sweet kiss. It was slow and wistful, sweet from of the chocolate.

Inuyasha parted his mouth to let her tongue in when she began licking across the seam. He used his right hand to thread through her hair, deepening the kiss. Gods, did she taste absolutely fucking divine, like chocolate covered cherries.

Far too soon, she pulled away from him, nipping his bottom lip for attempting to pull her back in. Kagome used her own hand to run through his hair, tipping his head back enough so she could run her tongue up and down the skin, licking up all the chocolate dots she had placed there.

Her tongue was so warm, and soft. It left him in a daze as she moved lower to tackle his chest. From the way she licked, starting from one side to the other and slowly making her way south, she must have drawn an elaborate maze. Her tongue deftly moved with precision; she knew exactly where to go.

Inuyasha moaned, his eyes half mast in pleasure, as Kagome sucked at his nipples. She took her time there, giving each one an equal amount of attention, erasing all signs of the caramel that covered them before moving on.

It was the most pleasurable torture Inuyasha had ever endured. She was getting closer and closer to the whipped cream tower that covered him, but it was obvious that Kagome was going to savor the taste of him before digging in. No amount of skin was forgotten as she traced lines of fire down his chest, dipping her tongue into his caramel filled belly button. Sometime during her travels downward, Inuyasha had grabbed a hold of her hair, helping keep it pinned back so she didn't get any chocolate or whipped cream in it. It was also an exercise in control, being careful that he didn't pull her hair too hard to cause her any pain.

Truth be told, Kagome was excited to get to the whipped cream portion of her dessert hanyou, although not entirely for what lay underneath. She had been eyeing that cherry since she walked in on him. It was the best part of a dessert after all.

She licked a line from the base of the tower to the tip, careful to not get too close to the skin of his shaft, picking up the cherry with the tip of her tongue and placing it between her teeth with the stem pointing out toward Inuyasha. Her gut reaction was to bite into the cherry and satiate her desire for the small fruit, but looking up at Inuyasha she had a better idea.

Leaning in towards him, she stuck out the stem towards his lips, offering him one last taste of her before she finally got a taste of him. Inuyasha greedily took the stem in his mouth, moving his lips generously over hers as she bit into the cherry, sharing the juice between the two of them for a moment before pulling apart.

Inuyasha wished he knew how to tie cherry stems with his tongue. He wanted to show her just what he could do with that tongue of his. Instead, he spit it out over the edge of the bed, far more concerned with what Kagome was about to do next.

Kagome had already moved to nestle herself between his legs, laying on her chest with her legs propped up at the knees, ankles crossed. Every time Kagome moved to another position, Inuyasha didn't think she could get any sexier, only to be proven wrong just a moment later. She gave him one last sultry look, placing her hands on his thighs to gently massage them, before taking the flat of her tongue from the base of his balls to the tip of his dick, all the way down to the skin.

Inuyasha pulled a low growl from deep in his chest at the feel of her tongue running up and down his hardened length. She felt even more amazing than he imagined she would, and he wasn't sure whether it was because he had been dry for so long or because Kagome just had a lot of practice.

They had been honest with each other from the beginning about their past sexual experiences. While Inuyasha wasn't a stranger to the act, Kagome had been with far more partners than himself, and with the way she licked his dick like her favourite ice cream cone was proof of that. Gods, when was the last time he received a blowjob anyways? Not since Kikyo, and that was years ago.

He played with the idea of threading his hand through her hair again, wanting to constantly be touching her, to feel her shiver as his claws lightly grazed her scalp. But as she finished licking off all the whipped cream, she fully engulfed his dick in her mouth, relaxing her jaw to fit as much of him in as she could. Inuyasha put holes into the bedsheets from gripping them so hard, and he was grateful he had stayed his hand from her head.

Inuyasha's head was spinning at the wet sounds of Kagome's mouth salivating around his dick. He didn't know how much more of this he could take before blowing his load early, and he much rather preferred the thought of cumming inside her undoubtedly wet pussy instead of her mouth.

"K-Kagome,"

She didn't slow down, didn't even look up at him as the hand that was squeezing towards the base tightened and the movements of her mouth went a little faster and deeper.

"Nng….Kags…."

Kagome could feel his balls tighten and knew he couldn't hold it much longer. The act of licking food off Inuyasha's body aroused her far more than she would have expected, and there was one aspect of the "banana split" that Inuyasha was missing: the garnish of chopped nuts. The chocolate and caramel she poured all over him and the whipped cream left her with a wonderfully sweet taste in her mouth, but she wanted to know how the salty taste of his cum would mix with it.

She ran a finger from her other hand along his perineum and moaned as she gave him one last hard suck. The vibrations from the skin to skin contact of her lips caused Inuyasha to let out a pitched whine as he filled her mouth with his cum. She held him fast in her mouth, keeping some controlled movement of her hand on his shaft as she swallowed every last drop of him.

Salty and sweet. Kagome was sure this was the ultimate way to give a blowjob, and she hoped by the panting she could hear from Inuyasha that he'd let her do it again sometime.

After cleaning up every last drop of his cum, she gave one last, chaste kiss to the tip of his cock and started lifting herself up by the arms when she was suddenly grabbed by the forearms and hauled up towards his face. He smashed his lips against her, clinking their teeth together as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, groaning at the taste of himself on her. He wanted to tell her how much he enjoyed what she gave him, but words seemed immaterial and not enough, so he decided to show her instead.

In fact, he loved it so much, he knew he had to return the favor. Besides, Kagome got to have her fun, so it was only fair that Inuyasha should as well.

He wrapped his arms around Kagome and flipped them so he was top, not once severing their connection at the lips. Kagome didn't seem to mind the change as her hands roamed his body, tracing the muscles up his arms and in his shoulders. When the need for air became too great, Inuyasha moved down to line open mouthed kisses to the pulsepoint in her neck, nipping the jaw on his way there.

It took a considerable amount of restraint to not move himself even lower. She looked absolutely delectable laying under him, her nipples already pebbled and hard from her aroused state. She had a soft expression in her eyes, but there was still a light held in there that waited for Inuyasha's next move.

Just as she had done, he reached over her to grab the chocolate sauce and caramel and carefully spread it all over the tops of her breasts and stomach, saving the caramel for her exposed nipples. It was not nearly as intricate as Kagome's designs had been; despite his desire to give back the love she gave him, he was slowly becoming impatient. It had been so long since he made love to a woman, and the imagined feeling of her warm heat clutching him as he pumped into her made him grow harder by the second.

He also didn't have nearly as much space as she did. Inuyasha didn't want to get chocolate syrup on her lingerie, which he guessed probably cost a good deal.

Inuyasha set the toppings down on the nightstand, bringing his nose to the silk material of her bra and gently rubbed his nose against it. The silk was so soft against his skin and smelled strongly of her natural scent, intoxicating him.

His original plan was to slowly work his way down her body, but he couldn't fight the instinct to lay his tongue flat against her right nipple, licking up all the caramel in one swoop. Her body twitched, not quite anticipating his touch there yet, and she let out a sharp gasp as he curled his tongue around her nipple and completely enveloped it into his mouth.

Kagome's body was already beginning to tremble, not used to the feeling of someone's hot breath against her skin. She arched her chest upwards towards his face, desperate to keep that connection intact. Every lick and suck was sending jolts of pleasure down to her core, setting her body ablaze in passion. When he started nibbling with his teeth, Kagome trailed her hands up around his head, gently grasping the base of his ears and massaging them.

Inuyasha growled at the sensation, her soft touch sending shivers down his spine. Despite how good it felt, Inuyasha let her nipple go with a loud pop! and with almost lightening speed, grabbed her wrists and trapped them together above her head. This time was for Kagome; Inuyasha was determined to make her feel just as good as he did - if not more - and currently, that didn't include him. Not in the same way.

Until he could bury himself in her, the only thing he wanted from her was to hear her moaning in pleasure.

"Ah ah, no touching yet baby," he told her, keeping himself lifted off her just enough to take her in. Kagome moaned at the absence of his lips, arching her back just a little bit more to tempt him to come back for more. Inuyasha wished he could keep her in this position. He loved the way her chest opened up to him from this angle, but he fully planned on giving both nipples this undivided attention. Unfortunately he couldn't grow a third arm.

"Tell you what," he said, placing open mouth kisses down her neck. "If you can keep your hands up here, I'll make it worth your while,"

Kagome rolled her hands into fists, trying her hardest to break free as he gently pulled on her earlobe, snaking his tongue up the sides. She wasn't sure she could keep still while he lapped at her skin. She wanted something to do with her hands, and his ears were a perfect distraction.

But he was giving her a challenge, and Kagome had no plans to back down anytime soon.

"Then show me what you got," she replied, relaxing her hands and lowered her body back down into the bed.

Inuyasha released her wrists slowly, making sure they stayed where he put them. His hand slowly lowered down, caressing her cheek and trailing a line down her neck straight to her breast. He cupped the underside of her left breast, lifting it right to his mouth.

Kagome sighed as his other hand came up to the other breast, pulling and twisting the nipple. She managed to keep her wrists where they were, but couldn't help flexing her hands.

When he was convinced her breasts had been worshipped long enough, he slowly worked his way down her body, licking the chocolate off as he went. Her skin was soft, arguably softer than even the lingerie she wore. Inuyasha had to control himself from marking her all over her stomach, settling for quick nips that only turned the skin red for a few moments.

Inuyasha couldn't wait any longer. He was so close to getting to taste her, and he was salivating at the prospect. Her belly button was the last place he focused on - swirling his tongue around it - before gripping her left thigh in his hand and lifting it so it sat on his shoulder. He used his other hand to spread her right leg, opening herself up to him fully.

Without thinking about it, he brought his nose against her dark curls and inhaled, letting out a deep groan. She smelled absolutely exquisite, a spicy scent reminiscent of ginger surrounding him. The image of her panting underneath him, pussy already glistening from how wet she was for him, was more perfect than he could have ever imagined.

He dove in, licking a long swipe from slit to clit. She was sweet and salty at the same time, something uniquely Kagome, and he’d never get enough. He worked his tongue in overtime, starting at the ever quickly hardening nub. He flicked his tongue back and forth, bracing his hands against her thighs as she twitched with each flick, before moving down a little lower. He used his right hand to gently push apart her folds, each swipe of the tongue imitating a soft caress to her sensitive nerves.

Kagome moaned at the feeling, jolts of pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. She had given up on his challenge, moving her hands down from above her head and threading her fingers through his hair, gently scraping his scalp with her nails.

She could feel her eyes roll towards the back of her head as he plunged his tongue inside her. There was something about receiving oral that just sent her over the edge. The feel of his tongue swirling inside her, hitting her innermost walls as she tried to keep him in, had her gasping and squirming.

Despite the overwhelming feeling, she made sure to keep her hands clear of his ears, not wanting to accidentally pull or pinch them. She tried lifting her pelvis off the bed, but her trembling body was no match for the pure strength of his arms as he held her down. Instead, she pushed his head further forward, making his nose bump her clit, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

Inuyasha had to grind his pelvis into the bed to find a bit of relief from the sensory overload. He was drunk on the taste of her, but his impatience was beginning to get the best of him. He wanted to know how she felt wrapped around his dick, sucking him in and milking him dry.

He relished in the small whines Kagome made as he nuzzled his nose against her nub. He could feel her legs begin to shake as he slowly made his way upward, taking his time to generously lick around her folds before turning his tongue's attention to her swollen pearl.

It felt like the breath was being squeezed from Kagome's chest. Every inhale was followed by a shallow, barely present exhale. His tongue was working in overdrive. Every flick, every swirl had her entire body trembling under the force of her well awaited orgasm just starting to break over the horizon.

Inuyasha, in an effort to end their collective misery, took her swollen nub between his lips and sucked, letting out a contented growl, the vibrations finally sending her over the edge. Kagome let out an almost shrill whine and arched her back, her thighs tense with the desire to capture Inuyasha's head between them. Her eyes clouded, unable to focus on anything but the explosive orgasm running throughout body.

Inuyasha stayed right where he was, lapping up every drop of her essence that spilled from her. His ears stood at attention as he listened to her mewling, a soft rumbling spreading throughout his chest at the thought that he made her feel this way.

Inuyasha kept at her folds, slowly licking her clean, until the tremors stopped racing through her body. He pushed himself up so he could get a better image of the woman under him. Her face was flushed red, small tendrils of hair already beginning to stick to her neck, and her chest was heaving, taking in large gulps of air. When her breath was starting to go back to normal, she finally focused her gaze on Inuyasha, eyes filled with lust.

Inuyasha found it difficult to keep her strong gaze, his confidence from before slowly wavering now that there was nothing to distract either of them. Inuyasha wiped his chin on his upper arm, suddenly embarrassed about the mess he had made despite his best attempt at licking her clean.

Kagome let out a short puff of air, not wanting to fully chuckle at the man on top of her. She wasn't trying to laugh at him, he just looked so adorable. His eyes tried not to land on her face, but he didn't shy away from running them up and down her body. He was looking at her with what Kagome could only describe as reverence, yet just a tinge of uncertainty lingered.

Kagome leaned up, tugging one of his forelocks gently to bring his face to hers so they could share a kiss. It was slow and determined all at the same time; Kagome tried to pour her heart into it, to try and let him know that it was okay. They were okay, and Kagome wanted nothing more than to be with him like this for the rest of the night.

Kagome could taste herself on his tongue, and it only helped fuel the fire that had settled slightly after her body wracking orgasm. She wound her hands behind his neck, grazing the back of his neck with her fingernails, causing a deep groan to emit from Inuyasha's chest.

"Inuyasha, I want you," Kagome purred, running a finger lightly over the outlines of his ears while the other hand ran lines up and down his chest.

"Kagome…"

Inuyasha tried to keep his actions calm and smooth - leaning over to the bedside table to grab a condom from the drawer - a feat that proved to be difficult as Kagome continued to run her hands across whatever body part of his she could reach. His hands shook as he slowly rolled it onto his dick. When he was ready, he lowered himself down to lay on top of her, being careful not to put his weight on her, and instead into his arms that framed her face. She opened herself up to him, allowing him to nestle his stiff erection in between her legs.

"Kagome," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her skin, starting from one cheek to the next. "Are you sure?"

Kagome brought her lips up against his one more time, teasing him with her tongue, swiping it along his lips, lightly caressing his own tongue in the process. She gently nipped his bottom lip when pulling back for air. She leaned up towards the top of his head, her breath ghosting the fine hairs of his ears.

"Take me, Inuyasha,"

Inuyasha had never heard words so sweet.

He slowly sank into her, nearly wincing at the pressure he felt. God she was tight! Already her walls were clenching and pulsing around his cock, her warmth seeping into him all the way up to his chest. Kagome moaned when Inuyasha was buried in her as far as he could be, basking in the fullness of having him inside her. For a minute, neither of them moved, each of them getting used to being so intimately joined.

Inuyasha kissed all along her jaw and neck - internally rejoicing when Kagome tilted her head back enough to bare more of her neck to him, a sign of submission to an Inu youkai.

Once Kagome was used to the added girth inside her, she rocked her hips up, letting him know she was ready for him to start moving.

He started slow, pulling out till just the tip remained before sliding back in. Inuyasha was the one to moan this time, Kagome letting out an erotic sigh as her body shivered under his touch. Every thrust sent a wave of pleasure through his body, the smell of their activities slowly beginning to permeate the air around them, creating a natural musk that was absolutely intoxicating.

Inuyasha raised himself up onto his arms just enough to look at her face as he continued to thrust into her. Kagome’s eyes were only halfway open, seeing but not seeing as she let her body be taken over by the pleasure of having him be not just inside of her, but to actively give her what her body desired. Her mouth was parted open, and Inuyasha could hear every little breathy moan she made as he tilted his hips back and forth, torturing her slowly.

Kagome hooked her ankles behind his legs in an effort to keep him as deep inside her as possible. One hand was gripping his bicep, the other was sinking into the supple flesh of one of his buttcheeks.

“Inuyasha....I….I need…”

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need more,”

“More of what?” he teased, slowing down his thrusts so he could circle his hips into her. Kagome let out a small cry at the sensation.

“I need it harder….faster…”

Inuyasha let out a low growl, and, with the precision only one with youkai ancestry could pull off, he fully raised himself up onto his knees, keeping himself inside of her. He grabbed both of her legs, hooking her ankles behind his head and gave her exactly what she asked for.

He began pounding into her with the fervor of a crazed man. Kagome became far more vocal, gasping and moaning at the force and speed with which he was fucking her with. Her head tilted back into the pillow, forcing her chest open to his eyed. Her breasts were bouncing violently against his movements.

“Touch yourself, Kagome,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobeyment. She instantly grabbed her breasts, molding each of them to her hands before pinching and rolling her nipples between deft fingers.

Kagome was on fire, the heat radiating from her core and spreading all over her body. Once again, the ability to exhale was quickly becoming lost to her, the holding of her breath only making the heat in her groin feel more pronounced. Her legs were beginning to ache, but she could barely feel the tension as he continued to pound into her, using the force and dexterity only a youkai could give her.

Inuyasha could feel he was close to the end, the feel of her wet pussy clenching around his hardened length bringing him closer and closer. He could hear every gasp and hitch of her breath, knowing that she was getting close herself. He wanted to give her one more orgasm before his own. Being mindful of his claws, he snaked his right hand down and began rubbing her clit, his rough, calloused fingers inducing the right amount of friction for Kagome’s legs to tremble.

“Nn..ahhh...Inuyasha...”

“Come on baby. Cum for me, Kagome,”

All it took were those four words to send Kagome over the edge. She let out a high pitched whine, white spots blurred her vision as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her body. Inuyasha let out his own yelp, unprepared for the pressure that came when her walls clenched around his cock, feeling as if she was cutting off blood flow. He erratically drove into her a couple more times before shooting his seed into the condom he wore.

Inuyasha slowly lowered Kagome’s legs to the bed before falling forward, catching himself on his arms so he wouldn’t crush her. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck as Kagome wrapped her arms around his shoulders, absentmindedly grazing her fingers on the nape of his neck. They simply laid there, basking in the glowing aftermath of their orgasm, as they took a few deep breaths.

Inuyasha could have laid there all night, taking in the sweet scent of sex and sweat that had spread throughout the room. There was absolutely no way he was washing these sheets anytime soon. In fact, he might have to research how to bottle this scent, maybe put it in a candle, so that he could relive this moment at any time.

Of course, given the soft humming coming from the woman underneath him, he might be able to reenact this night in the very near future.

Not wanting to crush her any longer, Inuyasha finally pulled out - Kagome letting out a small grunt at the loss of him inside her - carefully taking hold of the now filled condom, tying up the end and throwing it in the small trash can beside his bed.

"I'll be right back," he told her, giving her a quick kiss before walking out of the room towards the bathroom, not giving a damn that he was walking around completely naked. He was still high on all that is Kagome to care about something as silly as that. He came back barely a minute later, after quickly wiping himself clean, with a warm, damp washcloth for Kagome.

He chuckled at the sight before him. Kagome had already cocooned herself under the sheets, a warm smile on her face as she brought the pillow she was holding up towards her face and took a deep breath. She looked so happy, and content, and satisfied. The youkai that slept deep within Inuyasha rumbled with joy at the thought that he was the one to make her feel that way.

She opened her eyes as soon as he reached the bed, her smile brightening just a bit more at the sight of him. Maybe it had just been a while, but Kagome was pretty sure that was some of the best sex she's ever had. Her heart melted a little at seeing the washcloth in his hands. She had always took care of her own needs afterwards, having never really stayed the night at a man's house after sex before. She had to admit, it was….nice, and made her feel more loved than even during the act itself.

She thanked him with another kiss, finding that it was hard to keep her hands off him for more than a minute. He must have felt the same, running his tapered claws through her mussed up hair as she took care of cleaning herself. The feel of the warm washcloth along her thighs mixed with his soft touches could have put her to sleep.

When she was finished, he took the washcloth from her and threw it in the corner of the room where his laundry basket sat. He grabbed the sheets to cover them with, wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her close to him so that her back was flush with his chest

"You know what the best thing about being an adult is?" Kagome asked. Inuyasha gave her an unintelligible reply, muffled by her own hair that he had buried his face into. She giggled from the hair that tickled her neck because of his breath.

"I don't know, you tell me" He repeated, now resting his head on her shoulder.

"Well, we were able to choose to eat dessert before dinner," she said with a laugh.

Inuyasha chuckled at her joke. "Dessert before dinner, that’s the dream,"

"Well, dessert has made me hungry for dinner," she said, playfully pushing him off her. She could feel that delicious ache between her thighs as she stood up, faltering a little on her first step. Inuyasha was ready to jump up if she fell, but Kagome shooed him away and walked to his closet to pull out a shirt of his to wear.

Inuyasha didn't think Kagome could be any more perfect than in that moment, wearing one of his favorite black long sleeved shirts. She looked beautiful when she dressed up in one of her floral dresses or high waisted skirts, and if all her lingerie looked like tonight's, then Inuyasha could count himself a lucky man. But there was something about seeing her in his clothes that riled up something primal in him.

Inuyasha had never really shown his more youkai tendencies to Kikyo when they were together. He had never suppressed them for her, but Kikyo generally ignored the topic, while Inuyasha's youkai side laid dormant and unimpressed with the woman Inuyasha had loved for so long.

Inuyasha had never experienced his youkai instincts feeling so active before. There was something about Kagome that fueled every fiber of his being, which was a little terrifying. He had only known Kagome for a month, how could he feel this strongly about her already? He certainly didn't want to scare her away because of it.

"Dinner can wait a few minutes, come back to bed," he said, rubbing the empty side of the bed

"Inuyasha, you can't let your apartment burn down because of unattended food! You promised me dinner and a movie. Besides," She exclaimed, a grin lighting up her face. “Who said we were done for the night,”

Kagome shot him a sly wink before stepping out of the room to go check on their dinner. The last thing Inuyasha wanted to do was get up after the mind blowing sex they just had - in fact, Inuyasha could fall asleep right where he laid - but a sudden gurgle of his stomach put thoughts of slumber on the back burner as hunger crept to the forefront. Another plus side to getting up was watching Kagome work in his kitchen, in nothing but his shirt.

Inuyasha thought there could be worse things to happen.

And so he flipped over the sheets, sauntering out into the kitchen, not bothering to cover himself. He would let her fiddle with his marinara sauce, and woo her with the fancy bottle of wine he bought for her to go with the meal. They’d then snuggle up together on the couch and put in a movie. The genre wasn’t important, it wasn’t as if they were going to watch it.

Like Kagome said, they weren’t done for the night, and he was looking forward to claiming her in every room of that damn apartment.

#day of love #one big bang #2 x 14 #inuyasha fanfiction #artist author collaborations #inukag

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notyourdayrdream · 3 years ago

Text

Summer’s Almost Over (So Come Spend it with Me)

Day Five, Side A: Austere

read it here on AO3

A/N: brief mention of Kurt being kissed without consent in season two of Glee

(also! for this two shot: Kurt and Blaine met at Dalton, but never dated.)

“What if we went to Coney Island Saturday?” Brittany exclaimed at their weekly potluck, completely out of the blue. Nobody had even mentioned the theme park. Though, to be fair, nobody begins half of the conversations Brittany throws them in.

For some reason, everyone agreed, even Rachel. She said taking a break from the hustle of Broadway was exactly what she needed to be ready to continue her role as Fanny on Monday.

Outvoted, Kurt reluctantly sat between Blaine and Sam on the subway ride to Coney Island, legs shaking the entire time. It wasn’t that he hated carnivals. It was the opposite, actually. When he was younger, his mom and dad took him to the Ohio state carnival. It’s one of the last memories he can fully remember of her, her long blonde hair braided back as she threw a plastic ball at a stack of milk cans. Anything for her kid, especially one who desperately wanted an oversized dragon plushie.

No, he’s nervous because he has a date at eight.

Kurt met Oliver at a coffeehouse near the Vogue office, he was the barista who served him his drink. Oliver’s number was scribbled on the receipt. It was all very cute, and his friends agreed when he told them the story.

They texted back and forth a week before Oliver asked him out. Kurt happily agreed, hoping for a calm day before getting dressed and heading out to a fancy dinner. Now though, he won’t even have enough time to shower the smell of hotdogs off his body and be on time.

So Kurt’s scrolling through Oliver’s Instagram (not at all like a creep,) when Artie pats his shoulder. “There they are,” he points ahead as the rest of his friends stumble to them, chatting animatedly about the rollercoaster they just went on.

“You know, when you said ‘let’s go on a ride,’ I didn’t think you meant the one with a huge drop,” Rachel says, gripping Santana’s arm so hard it might fall off. Her hair is wind whipped and messy.

“C’mon Rach, you could’ve sat with Kurt and Artie if you wanted,” Mercedes says from behind her, arms wrapped around Sam’s waist.

“Did you guys have fun?” Kurt asks from the bench, carefully closing the app so he doesn’t accidentally like an old photo. “Rachel looks like she just died.” This is why he didn’t go on the ride.

Blaine sits beside him on the bench, his eyes gleaming with a sort of childlike wonder. He’s a total adrenaline junkie. “It was amazing, she’s overreacting,” he whispers not-too-discreetly. Kurt giggles.

“Let’s split up,” Santana suggests. “I wanna go on another coaster, and the park closes at six. We can grab dinner after?”

“Unless you’re Sam and Brittany, who already ate,” Artie chides. His camera rests on his lap, storage filled with videos and photos of their trip.

“Hey! Cotton candy is not one of the five food groups!” Brittany sticks out a blue tongue at him, Sam does the same. Their respective partners laugh.

“I have to leave soon,” Kurt reminds the group, checking his phone another time. Five thirty-two.

“Wait, never mind guys,” Santana alerts, appearing to be suddenly anxious. “Kurt has to get his brains fucked out at eight, so we can’t have dinner.” Both Blaine and Kurt wince.

“Too far, San.” Mercedes cringes as her and Sam make their way down the boardwalk steps and to the beach. The others shake their heads in similar disgust before going their separate ways. Rachel pushes Artie to the outdoor arcade with plans to win a bagged goldfish. Brittany pulls her girlfriend by a sticky hand to the older wooden coaster.

“So…” Blaine knocks his shoulder as they walk down the boardwalk. The gel has completely left his hair throughout the course of the day, curls hanging just above his eyebrows. “Whatcha wanna do?” Kurt spies him eyeing the Wonder Wheel beside him.

He shakes his head, not waiting for the question. “No.”

“Please?” Blaine pleaded. “You haven’t been on anything this whole time.” He sidesteps a tiny toddler crying over a fallen ice cream cone.

“I didn’t want Artie to feel alone!” Kurt defends himself. Which was true, most of the coasters weren’t accessible for him, so they spent the time bonding over the grossness of carnival food and looking at footage from the day.

“We’ll Artie isn’t here now,” Blaine replies, voice dropping an octave. “So come on the ferris wheel with me.” He bats his eyelashes for extra effect. Kurt’s stomach swoops.

Blaine has a way of doing that to him. In their near five year friendship, he’s made Kurt’s stomach tie up in knots more times than he can count. He won’t deny he used to have a crush on him in high school; he was preppy and chivalrous and oh so cute in his bow ties and blazers.

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he sighs. Blaine cheers next to him, mumbling ‘thankyouthankyouthankyou’ in the same deep voice that makes the blood rush to Kurt’s face.

Okay, maybe the crush wasn’t entirely dead. But it’s completely normal to have crushes on your friends. Friendly crushes.

Since the park is soon to close, the lines weren’t too long anymore. Kurt and Blaine move up first in line after only five minutes.

The ride operator turns to them. Her hair is bordering on orange. “You guys want an outside or inside car?” Her voice has no expression, and she looks two more button presses from quitting her job.

“Outside.” Kurt and Blaine say at the same time, followed by a quiet laugh.

She eyes them. “Alright.” She presses another button, and the outer ring of ferris wheel carts rotate downwards until an empty one comes to the bottom. “Enjoy the ride.”

Blaine and Kurt slide into the seat, sitting on opposite sides of the enclosure. The ride jerks forward and up, until they’re halfway around the ride. “Are you okay? Your face is really pale.” Blaine asks, eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Mm-hmm,” Kurt squeaks, closing his eyes to avoid looking down. Even though the car is supposed to be stationary, it rocks just a little as it moves up and down to complete its first circle.

Blaine thinks for a moment before saying quietly, “You’re afraid of heights?” He jumps a little in his seat, and the car rocks with it. Kurt’s stomach drops.

“I am!” he snaps, opening his eyes. “Stop moving so much.” The city is lit up around them, the sound of cheers from the rollercoaster whizzing by below him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine stills himself. “I wouldn’t have made you go on if you had told me, Kurt!” He looks so worried that Kurt feels bad for even mentioning his fear. It’s completely irrational anyway, he doesn't even have a reason to be so scared. It’s just the fact he believes no human needs to be up one hundred fifty feet high.

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he tries to console Blaine (and himself). “It’ll be over in what, three more minutes?” He can last three more minutes. Hell, he’s lasted an hour listening to Rachel and Santana argue.

And then the ride stops. At the very top.

It takes a minute for the two of them to realize this isn’t supposed to happen. “Why’d it stop.” Kurt says. His body feels like it might melt onto the floor. “Oh my god, no.”

“We’re stuck.” Blaine groans, which, thanks Captain Obvious! Those two words are confirmation that this is actually the absolute worst day ever. “I’ll call someone.”

Rachel’s ringtone beats him to it.

Kurt can’t hear much of the conversation, but from the looks Blaine throws his way, he knows it isn’t good. He cracks his knuckles as a way to distract himself from the slight sway of the cart. Passerbys the size of ants point and look up at the malfunctioned ride.

Blaine clicks the end call button. “Okay, good news first, ” he begins, pocketing his phone. “Rachel and Artie talked to the operators, and they’re working on fixing the ride.”

“Bad news?” Kurt presses. Blaine likes to do that thing where he gives good news then bad news, but the latter is always so bad the good news pales in comparison. He’s done that ever since they met. It’s silly, but it’s Blaine, so Kurt loves it.

“Bad news is that it might take thirty minutes, maybe forty-five.” Blaine cringes from the other side of the cart, waiting for Kurt’s outburst.

“No.” Kurt snatches his phone out of his pocket. “No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” He feels tears prick at the back of his eyes. He’s gonna be late. “I’m gonna miss my date!” He groans, and yeah it may be a little over dramatic, but he hasn’t been on a date with someone in months. He was really excited.

Expecting sympathy from Blaine, he glanced over at him. He’s glaring right back at him. “What?”

“Is that really what you’re worried about right now?” Blaine says abruptly. “God forbid you miss your date.” He rolls his eyes with more venom Kurt’s seen in him ever. It freaks him out and angers him at the same time.

“Okay, what’s your problem?” He retorts, eyes narrowing. Blaine shrinks back a little at the stare, but doesn’t stop glowering.

“You’ve been going on about this stupid guy the whole day, complaining about how you have to go home, I’m so sick of it!” Blaine continues. His voice grows louder by the end.

“He’s not stupid, okay?” Kurt doesn’t know why he feels like he has to defend Oliver, but he does anyway. “And you’re the main one who wanted me to go out with him!” This whole situation is confusing him.

Blaine huffs indignantly and crosses his arms. “Maybe I don’t want you to anymore!”

“Why not?” Kurt presses. He’s never seen his best friend act like this. He almost seems jealous.

“Because I like you!” Blaine cries, eyes wet. “Jesus, couldn’t you tell?” His face is red now, flushed up to his neck.

Kurt flinches. “Please stop yelling.”

“I’m sorry.” Blaine immediately backs down, curling into himself. “I like you, Kurt. I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but I do.”

The sun is starting to set now, casting what feels like the entire world in an orange haze. The ocean to the right of them glimmers, couples walked in tandem along the shore. To the left, the skyline of Brooklyn appears austere and somber from so high up.

“How long?” Kurt says finally, eyes settling on the horizon and the rolling waves.

“How long what?”

“How long have you liked me?” He doesn’t know if he wants the answer.

There’s a pause until Blaine eventually murmurs, “Five years.”

Kurt’s heart drops. “Blaine.” Why didn’t he say anything? Oh god, this is horrible.

“I just, I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship by admitting anything,” Blaine explains, rubbing the nape of his neck. “It’s a lame excuse. But—yeah.” And he resides back into silence.

It is a lame excuse, Kurt thinks. Of course it wouldn’t have ruined anything. He had a crush on his stepbrother, for Christ’s sake. “So why did you want me to go out with Oliver so bad?”

“I thought, maybe, if you started dating someone I could get over you,” he laughs to himself. “That obviously didn’t work.”

Kurt just stares at him for a moment until he makes up his mind. “I’m coming over there.”

Blaine jerks out of his thoughts. “N-no, don’t come any closer,” he stammers. “You’ll mess up the balance of the car.” He looks terrified. Kurt can’t decide if it’s sad or adorable.

He rolls his eyes. “I won’t mess up the balance of anything.” Kurt stands slowly, holding his arms out to his sides. He takes the three steps to Blaine’s side of the car quickly to get it over with, shaking the seats. When he falls into the seat, Blaine steadies him by the waist. The touch shocks both of them, and he snatches his arm back.

They sit shoulder to shoulder, neither of them daring to move. It’s what feels like hours before Kurt takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. “Do you remember when we first met? And I was having trouble with Karofsky? You texted me a single word. Courage.” He turns to the side. Blaine looks absolutely disheveled, sweating and curls getting frizzier by the minute. Weirdly, he looks gorgeous.

Blaine snorts. “Yeah, that word got you sexually assaulted.”

“No,” Kurt shakes his head, choosing to ignore the way his heart stops from the words. “That word saved me. You saved me, Blaine.” He would’ve never stood up for himself without that text. It got him through McKinley and Dalton and NYADA to this day.

“I’m always going to care about you. And I’m sorry I don’t… like you the way you like me. But I used to,” Kurt admits, now nervous like must’ve been. That secret was supposed to go to the grave. “And maybe I can again.”

Blaine meets his gaze, an emotion Kurt can’t quite place swirling around his eyes. “Okay.” He smiles, and though it is wavering, it’s also hopeful.

There’s a jolt, and the wheel starts turning again. It’s dark now, the sun fully disappeared below the horizon. The sky is a mix of purple and black and blue, a bruise painted among the stars. Kurt hears cheers from the other cars as they reach the ground below. “Okay.”

#spaceorphan’s sophisticated challenge: austere #glee #writing #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #surprise cliffhanger mwahahahaha #jk i’ll continue it tmrw #also these words just keep harder whyyy #this is my official headcanon that kurt’s afraid of heights

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theshatteredrose · 3 years ago

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Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 28) - Original Fiction

AN: I am so sorry it took me this long to get this chapter out! The usual excuses, I’m afraid. I am dedicated to finishing this story, and I promise I won’t leave it hanging for like a year or something. With that said, hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 28:

Eishirou sat on the edge of an infirmary bed. His jacket laid out on the bed next to him, his t-shirt on his lap as Neriah wound medical tape around his right shoulder. The pain had subsided, but that was due entirely to the pain medication he had received the moment he was brought to the infirmary.

Jacob was the one who near literally whisked Eishirou to the infirmary, leaving Zayne at the museum with the Star Rebellion follower.

He had no idea what was going on outside this examination room. Sigmund had been called to deal with the situation. The rest of Team 3 had also been called in order to offer assistance should it be needed.

Neriah was the only person in the room with him. The only insight he could offer him was his diagnosis of his injuries.

“Nothing is broken, thankfully. But it was close. It’s going to be sore for a few days. So, be sure to take your pain medication.”

Eishirou offered the professor a small smile. “Sure,” he said as he immediately struggled to pull on his t-shirt.

The low ache of pain and stress was still there, but nothing like it was. That sharp, jagged jolt of pain he felt when it first happened was extraordinary. He hadn’t felt anything like it. And to think, his attacker simply tossed him aside. Literally.

He didn’t even want to consider what they would have done to him if they had set out to hurt him.

“Now.” Neriah’s voice quickly turned stern. The tone of voice he would take just before he would launch into a lecture. “Have you been eating properly?”

Eishirou dutifully nodded his head. “Yes.”

Neriah gave him a look that was uniquely cynical and interrogative. “Really? When was the last time you ate?”

“It was…”

Last night. He accidentally skipped breakfast that morning. Whoops!

Ah, crap. He had to tell Neriah that, huh? M-maybe he could talk his way around it to avoid a lecture? No, that wouldn’t work. Maybe blurt it out and beg for mercy?

“Hey.”

Eishirou just barely caught himself from uttering a sigh of relief when Jacob walked into the room. Jacob’s timing was perfect once again!

“How are you doing?” he asked as he immediately gave Eishirou a concerned, inspecting look.

“I’m all right,” Eishirou replied instinctively.

“For now,” Neriah added as he picked up Eishirou’s jacket to drape over his shoulders. “Those painkillers will wear off eventually.”

Jacob frowned. “How bad?”

“Not too bad, thankfully. He’s going to have a few bumps and bruises, though. His shoulder received the worst of it. His wrists are going to have the darkest bruises, though.”

Eishirou immediately glanced down at his wrists and winced. Yeah, the angry red skin was beginning to turn into an ugly purple. Typing, basically anything with his hands was going to hurt.

It was likely that his attacker knew that, so targeted him that way on purpose.

Jacob dragged a chair over toward the bed and sat down in front of Eishirou, a very serious expression on his face. “What happened?”

Eishirou sighed as he subconsciously tugged his jacket closer around him. “They were after the Red Lily.”

A wrinkle immediately appeared in Jacob’s brow. “Are you sure?”

“They demanded to know where it was. That’s pretty clear.”

“Indeed.” The frown on Jacob’s lips deepened and he leaned back into the chair. “Now, why would they want with a relic?”

That was a good question. They, of course, wouldn’t tell him. And that led to so many other questions. The most troubling question he had was why did they know they could go through him to get to the Red Lily?

The sound of someone striding purposefully down the hall just outside the room caught Eishirou’s attention. The sound was oddly familiar to him and he looked over at the door expectantly.

Sure enough, it was Zayne who appeared in the doorway, hand on the frame and a worried frown on his face.

“Eishirou?” Zayne questioned as he moved into the room.

“I’m all right,” Eishirou automatically replied as he reached out a hand toward Zayne.

But soon regretted it when his shoulder ached sharply, prompting him to grimace and clutch at his shoulder. And that propelled Zayne to his side, crouching near the bed with obvious worry on his face. Much like the first time Zayne had visited him in the infirmary.

He actually felt a prang of guilt with that memory. The second time he had worried Zayne unwittingly. Both times he couldn’t exactly help. He knew that. So, the guilt was irrational. But as illogical as it was, he still felt it and made the silent promise to make it up to Zayne somehow.

“Just a few bumps and bruises,” he tried to reassure with a small smile.

Of course, Zayne wasn’t exactly convinced and still looked sincerely worried as he sat down onto the bed next to him.

“What happened to that guy?”

“He’s under surveillance.”

Sigmund was the one to answer as he abruptly stepped into the room.

He made no attempt to elaborate further. And from the tone of his voice, Eishirou didn’t want to know where, what they were planning to do, or what state his attacker was in. As nosy as he was, some things were better off not knowing.

“Care to explain what happened?” Sigmund went on to ask him.

Eishirou took a moment to gather his thoughts before he heaved a sigh. He started from the very beginning. From when he entered the museum to when he felt a presence, and to how he was accosted. He tried to give as much detail as possible as he knew anything and everything could be vital to learn more about the motive.

The men in the room all had varying degrees of protectiveness when Eishirou went on to explain what happened when he was attacked. Zayne’s bristle was the most obvious of the four, with Jacob and Neriah an equal second. Sigmund simply narrowed his eyes, his gaze hardening into a stoic expression that Eishirou couldn’t even begin to describe.

Their expressions changed a moment later when Eishirou moved onto how he had used the Sound Orb in his desperate attempt to escape.

“After that, they threatened to kill me, so I ran. That’s when Zayne appeared. He took care of things from there.” Eishirou sighed and twisted his hands in a nervous motion upon his lap, feeling winded from simply explaining everything. “That’s all I know.”

The room fell silent, each occupant taking the time needed to fully comprehend all the information Eishirou had just given them.

“They’re after a relic?” Sigmund’s musing broke the silence. “Hm. I’ll have Elites patrolling around the museum for the next few days. And it appears that Eishirou here will need a bodyguard.”

A knowing half-grin suddenly appeared on Jacob’s face. “He already has one.”

Sigmund arched a questioning eyebrow. “Hm?”

“He obviously means me,” Zayne responded with a light snort. As if it was all so apparent.

“Well, it makes sense since you room together, hm?”

Sigmund’s expression remained stoic, but he did raise a questioning eyebrow. “Roommates?”

“That’s right,” Zayne answered swiftly in defensiveness. Sounding as though he was willing to rebuke anything negative that Sigmund could or would respond with.

Instead, Sigmund furrowed his brow, mildly confused. “I see. Well, it’s safe to assume that the attack from yesterday is connected to the one of today. And it is Eishirou who was their primary target.”

Eishirou was unable to prevent himself from wincing. He had felt as much moments after the attack. He wasn’t exactly thrilled knowing that his hunch had been right.

“Honestly, all this fuss over a relic,” Neriah suddenly commented, pure exasperation in his voice. “Is it really that special?”

“We have absolutely no idea,” Jacob grumbled as he roughly scratched at his head. “It’s unwilling to reveal its secrets.”

It wouldn’t reveal its secrets until certain conditions were met. That was what Jairus believed from their session yesterday.

A troubled expression suddenly appeared on Neriah’s features. “If you are yet to work it out, why are those Star Rebellion followers so intent on it?”

Jacob immediately stilled, and so did Eishirou. That was a very good question. And a disturbing one at that.

…Did the Star Rebellion know something about the Red Lily that they didn’t?

“Who were they?” Eishirou directed that question toward Sigmund. “The one who attacked me?”

“We’re still attempting to establish that. They’re unwilling to talk, unsurprisingly,” he answered gruffly. He glanced over at the clock on the wall and frowned. “I best return. Perhaps now, they will talk.”

Highly unlikely.

Zayne didn’t move from his spot and Sigmund made no attempt to order him to follow him. Instead, he simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Back straight, shoulder’s back; he was definitely a man on a mission.

Eishirou almost felt sorry for his attacker. Almost.

“Eishirou.” The serious tone of Jacob’s voice caused Eishirou to immediately turn to him. “How did you use the Sound Orb?”

That was a fair question. “I remembered a recording I viewed earlier. It said something like; 'The right hands to hinder the wrong ears'. So, I focused my intent on the Sound Orb only affecting the one attacking me. And only them.”

And it actually worked. Thank goodness that it did!

“That would explain why we heard the sound but not affected by it,” Jacob murmured as he held his chin in a pondering stance. “Interesting.”

Neriah clapped his hands sharply to gain everyone’s attention. “Enough musing and pondering for today,” he said as he sent Jacob a pointed look. “You’ve got work to do back at the museum.”

Jacob raised his hands in a surrendering manner. “Right, right.”

“And you,” Neriah continued as he turned to give Eishirou the same pointed stare. “You are to return to your room and get some rest. I don’t want to see you in any classes for at least two days.”

Eishirou couldn’t help but pout. “Ah, so I have two days off, then?” Was he going to do? Staying put and just being still wasn’t exactly his thing.

Neriah heaved a sigh and his shoulders drooped in exasperation. “Anyone else would be thrilled with having days off,” he muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But not you researchers. Honestly, you’re a breed of your own.”

Rude. Though, it was probably true.

“Zayne, get him out of here and make sure he doesn’t try to sneak in some research,” Neriah went on to order.

An amused smirk made its way to Zayne’s lips and he nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

Zayne then wrapped an arm around Eishirou’s back and helped him to his feet. Eishirou was glad for the support as his head throbbed from light-headedness and he had to fight off the urge drop back down onto the bed. He honestly feared for a moment that he was going to faint.

He hoped that no one else had caught onto that little stumble. But, of course, he was wrong. Zayne tightened his arm around his back, his hand pressed against his side, while Neriah also reached out to steady him. He wasn’t alarmed, however. He simply prattled off his orders and handed over a box of painkillers he would need to take every six hours.

A few minutes later, Eishirou was being escorted through the gardens of the Academy toward the dorms once more. Zayne continued to keep him close to him, his gaze alternating between looking at their surroundings for any threats. And toward him in concern.

Eishirou felt that prang of guilt once. “Sigmund seemed surprised that we’re roommates.”

Zayne, however, simply shrugged nonchalantly. Completely unconcerned about Sigmund’s reaction. So, Eishirou decided to drop it altogether. If Zayne wasn’t concerned, he didn’t need to be either. Though, thinking about it there was no need to have any concern anyway, right? It wasn’t like there was an iron-clad rule stating that Elites and Passives couldn’t be roommates.

There might be such a rule in that stupid, hypocritical Academy Hierarchy. But those who worshipped such an obnoxious set of rules weren’t worth worrying about.

The rest of the journey to the dorms was made in silence. There were thankful very few people roaming about. The less people to witness him in such a state, the better. He didn’t want any more gossip to make the circlet around the Academy. It might reach the ears of the Star Rebellion, after all.

He didn’t know much about them, but he was fairly certain that if they knew about his injuries, they would immediately make their move.

“Get some sleep,” Zayne suggested as he took a moment to ensured that the door to their room was closed and locked tightly behind them. “You didn’t get much last night.”

Eishirou turned toward him and shrugged off his jacket. “Ah, well, you didn’t either.” As he dropped his jacket to the end of his bed and sat down himself, he felt another wave of light-headedness wash over him.

“But now that you mention it, I feel exhausted all of a sudden,” he muttered as he kicked off his shoes. “It’s probably because of the painkillers.”

He ignored the desire to simply flop down onto the bed, instead lowering himself slowly so not to bring himself more pain. He laid his head upon the pillow and closed his eyes. He half expected to lay there for a few minutes, simply trying to get comfortable.

Instead, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he dropped off to sleep.

When Eishirou opened his eyes again, the room was far darker than before. It was the type of darkness that came from evening, not just from the closing of the blinds. He remembered it being around lunchtime when he returned to his room. Had he slept that long?

He supressed a groan as he rolled onto his side. His vision was still slightly blurry as he looked over at Zayne’s side of the room. However, Zayne was not on the bed. Instead, he was in a crouched position in the middle of the floor. Focused entirely on the door of their room. In his hands, his holsters. Grip tight, shoulders tensed, completely still.

Eishirou lifted his head up off the pillow. He looked just like he had last night. Was he on alert again?

“Zay-?”

“Shhh,” Zayne suddenly hushed him, indicating that he was completely conscious. “There’s something out there.”

Eishirou slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and glanced over at the door. He couldn’t see anything, obviously. Just a dim beam of light from under the door. The light was unbroken, indicating that there wasn’t anything just outside the door.

But Zayne wasn’t reacting to nothing. He was fully conscious. He was reacting to something.

The sudden buzz of his communicator alerting him to a message caused Eishirou to jump, jarring his shoulder in the process. He hissed in pain as he grabbed his shoulder. He mused mildly to himself that he was likely due to take another dose of pain medication, and it was likely Neriah who messaged him.

But as he checked, he was surprised to find that it was from Katsuto, the dorm superintendent. And the message wasn’t good.

“Oh…” Eishirou felt his heart sink.

“What?” Zayne asked, his voice low and his attention focused toward the door.

“It’s an alert telling Passives to stay in their dorms,” Eishirou winced.

“ShadowDwellers?”

“Yeah. We’re in lockdown.”

Zayne replaced one of his holsters into his leg holder and reached out a hand in Eishirou’s direction. Eishirou gazed at his open hand for a moment before he slipped in his own and allowed Zayne to pull him toward him. As Zayne pushed himself to stand tall, he pressed Eishirou tightly against his side and wound an arm around his waist.

“What do you usually do in lockdowns?” he asked as he pulled Eishirou with him away from the door.

“Turn off the lights and hide,” Eishirou answered as he grasped at the front of Zayne’s shirt with his left hand.

Zayne didn’t immediately reply. He appeared as though he waited for more information. When Eishirou didn’t offer anything more, as there was none to give, he gave him a frustrated look. “That’s it?”

Well, what else could they do?

“Passives can’t fight, remember?”

“This is ridiculous; you’re all sitting ducks here,” Zayne muttered angrily as he manifested his gun-blade and held it offensively toward the door. “Are there any other Elites here?”

Eishirou shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Great. I’m literally the only Elite here.”

Eishirou tightened his grip on Zayne’s clothing. He hoped the lockdown was just a false alarm. That there weren’t any ShadowDwellers actually inside the building. But…Zayne’s reaction. He wouldn’t have reacted in such a way if there wasn’t a threat to be found somewhere, right?

He could only hope that the other Passives in the dormitory were going to be all right.

He stayed pressed against Zayne’s side as seconds ticked by ever-so slowly. Zayne kept an arm around his back, keeping him close for both protection and comfort. Reminding Eishirou that he was lucky to have Zayne there with him. He couldn’t imagine going through something like this on his own.

Sitting alone in the pitch-darkness, waiting for either the lockdown to be lifted. Or to come face to face with a ShadowDweller. And not being able to do anything about it.

Zayne suddenly tensed and held Eishirou tighter. Eishirou wasn’t sure of his reaction at first. Until he heard it. There was a noise just outside the room. A strange noise. It sounded like scurrying. And yet, the movements sounded sloppy and wet.

The single beam of light at the bottom of the door was abruptly overtaken by darkness. It covered the entirety of the light.

“Whatever happens, do not let go,” Zayne whispered to him.

Eishirou could only nod his head. Though his shoulder ached in protest, he turned so that he was pressed against Zayne’s chest, gripping at his jacket with both hands.

Another noise unexpectedly erupted from the door. A noise that could only be described as a monstrous groan of excitement. As if the ShadowDweller had found what it was after. And they were moving in.

A sticky sound followed. Like that of someone walking through thick, dense mud. Then a black mass began to bubble up from the lower gap of the door. Seeping its way into the room. Bubbling across the floor like a muddy stream.

That noise. That movement.

It sounded just like those Humanoid ShadowDwellers that ambushed them at the lighthouse. The ones that could have, and would have, killed Zayne and the others if the Red Lily didn’t appear.

The pool of black liquid began to boil, forming the distorted, deformed shape of a human.

Not again. Please, not again.

“Zayne…”

“I know how to kill these assholes now,” Zayne suddenly growled.

He quickly lashed out with his weapon, abruptly slicing the top of its head. Scalping it, if it had been a human. But it seemed to have done the trick; the ShadowDweller uttered a loud shriek before folding to the floor in a puddle. And that soon dissipated into a thick, greenish mist.

But as that ShadowDweller disappeared from existence, another began to seep its way under the door to take its place.

They thankfully couldn’t break their way through the door, but they could squeeze in under it. But how many were on the other side? And why were they targeting their room specifically?

Several loud, ear-splitting shrieks suddenly erupted just outside the door before abruptly falling silent. The light beneath the foot of the door quickly returned. The screams and the light indicated that there were indeed a group for ShadowDwellers there. And they had been dealt with swiftly.

Two shadows, likely that of feet, stopped just in front of the door. The figure on the other side seemed to turn toward the door to regard it for a moment. They stood there for a few drawn out seconds before, finally, the feet shifted and moved from view.

Footsteps were heard moving away before disappearing entirely.

Zayne unexpectedly lowered his gun-blade. “That was an Elite,” he said with mild confusion.

Zayne’s puzzled expression confused Eishirou in return. Before he could question him, however, his communicator buzzed once more. Another message. This one positive, however.

“Lockdown has been lifted.”

Though…it was a surprise by how quickly it had been lifted. Not even five minutes ago, there was a group of ShadowDwellers attempting to break in. How could have Katsuto known to lift the alert that quickly? And just who was that Elite?

A sharp ache in Eishirou’s shoulder abruptly reminded him that he was too tired and sore to be thinking too much.

He sighed as he finally peeled his fingers away from Zayne’s jacket. He could have done without that.

Two attacks of Star Rebellion followers. A lockdown due to ShadowDwellers in the area. A group ShadowDweller just on the other side of the door. A ShadowDweller actually making its way inside.

It had been a wild couple of days. To put it mildly.

“This lockdown bullshit needs to be handled better,” Zayne suddenly stated as he helped Eishirou back over to his bed before he pulled out his communicator to harshly mash at the buttons.

“What are you going to do?” Eishirou asked as he sat down on his bed. But his question only to prompt Zayne to start ranting.

“I’m going to speak with Sigmund about this. Expecting Passives to hide and hope for the best is bullshit. Room some Elites in here. That’s what we’re here for; we fight ShadowDwellers. It’s no good having Elites several minutes away. Had no one else thought of this? This divide between Elites and Passives is such bullshit. Holy shit, where do I begin?”

Despite Zayne’s angry rambling, Eishirou found a sense of comfort from him.

However, he also felt a sense of concern.

“Are you going to be all right?” Eishirou abruptly asked.

Zayne looked up from his communicator to give Eishirou a look that was a mix of confusion and amusement. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Ok, that was fair. “Well, it’s been stressful, you know? You’re sure to be on alert for a while. Right?”

Zayne soon caught onto what he was referring to and winced. “Yeah,” he muttered. He soon shook his head, however, and waved dismissively. “But that’s fine. This is different. I’ll be up for hours, so try to get some sleep. Wait, take a painkiller first and then get some sleep.”

Eishirou wasn’t going to argue with that. The ache in his shoulder, along with his head, was really starting to set in.

“I’m actually looking forward to taking tomorrow off,” he said as he reached for his pain medication that was set on his bedside table. “These last few days have been so…crazy.”

To put it lightly.

He also couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment at the moment. Two attacks and a lockdown in a matter of hours. And yet, here he was, preparing to head off to bed and get some sleep. Like nothing had happened. Or like this kind of thing happened regularly.

Honestly, he should be a jumbled mess of nerves and stress.

But he wasn’t. He just felt tired.

The painkillers definitely had something to do with it. Which was fortunate for him. Zayne being there with him, however, was definitely the major factor in everything. He was safe with him. Even if a ShadowDweller made its way into their room, Zayne would deal with it. He would know of its presence before it even made its way into the room.

Honestly, what would Eishirou do without him?

“Why don’t we head to that café?” Zayne suddenly suggested. “The one with the all-you-can-eat breakfast?”

Hm? Oh, the one that Eishirou treated Zayne to on the morning after their first meeting?

“Sure,” Eishirou smiled. “Sounds good.”

#original fiction #scifi fantasy #young adult #gay romance #Mystery/Suspense #relic keepers: awakening of the red lily

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gayassbagelmom · 4 years ago

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A short(but probably long) rant about the beginning of chapter 23 and Thomas’s mental health in general:

Ps: this isn’t proofread and is likely all over the place, blame the ADHD lmao

At the beginning of chapter 23 there’s a scene where 10 year old Thomas is in the hospital waiting room, while his parents and doctor discuss his health. The doctor mentions the Thomas has OCD, that’s the first and biggest problem I have with this chapter. Let me give you all a lesson on psychology. OCD is probably one of the most misunderstood disorders out there. The main problem is people mistake OCD for OCPD. OCPD = obsessive compulsive personality disorder. You may think “okay well what’s the big deal? Aren’t they the same thing” no, they aren’t. In the DSM(diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders), the organize disorders into 5 categories, called axes:

Axis 1: clinical disorders

Axis 2: personality disorders

Axis 3: general medical disorders

Axis 4: psychosocial and environmental factors

Axis 5: the global assessment of functioning

Right now, axes 1 and 2 are the ones we will be focusing on.

OCD is an axis 1, or clinical disorder. Axis 1 disorders tend to be things that more so effect people’s moods or reactions. Examples being anxiety, depression, sleep disorders, eating disorders, and most mood related disorders. Basically, everything but personality disorders and mental retardation. People with these clinical disorders are usally well aware of their Irrational behavior and are distressed by it, actively seeking help.

OCPD is an axis 2, or personality disorders. Axis 2 disorders, as the name suggests, effect a persons personality and life as a whole. Examples being narssistic personlity disorder, mental retardation, antisocial personlity disorders, schizoid and schizotypal personlity disorder, basically, if it’s got “personlity” in the name, it most likely fits into this category. The difference between these and axis 1 disorders is they usally aren’t aware or their irrational behaviors and aren’t particularly upset by them. They usally only seek help due to friends or family

Thomas doesn’t have OCD, he has OCPD. Before I go over the differences between them, let me define two terms:

Ego dystonic: thoughts, impulses, and behaviors that are felt to be repugnant, distressing, or unacceptable with one's self-concept.(OCD)

Ego syntonic: thoughts, impulses, and behaviors that are felt to be natural or acceptable with one’s self-concept.(OCPD)

Okay now the rant like, actually begins. There’s a fuck ton of evidence the supports Thomas having OCPD and NOT OCD. OCD is a disorder charactrized by impulses and cleanliness. People with OCD usally have one or a few specific obsessions, an example being ALWAYS unlocking and relocking your front door three times before leaving, or washing your hands til they’re sore and red. People with OCD are motivated by the idea that some imaginary disaster could happen if they don’t do this. This is why OCD is considered an anxiety disorder. This is also where the fact that it’s a clinical disorder plays a large role. People with OCD actively seek out help, they don’t like the way their impulses effect their lives, OCD is an ego dystonic disorder. OCPD is much different though. Unlike OCD, people with OCPD, don’t have just a couple of rituals. The focus completely on perfectionism and control. They want everything to be orderly and under control, and have a tendency to come off as domineering. People with personlity disorders, don’t view it as a disorder and only seek help due to family and friends openly discussing that they dislike said persons behavior. They don’t view it as unnatural, that is why OCPD is a ego syntonic disorder. Off the bat there’s already a lot more similarities with OCPD symptoms and Thomas’s symptoms. Another fun little tidbit, studies show, a good number of OCPD cases may have developed due to overcontrolling, intrusive and dominating parents. Let’s look back at chapter 23 and I’ll list some example of OCPD behavior

“He had seen other kids his age--ten--scribbling stick figures when they drew, but he wanted his to look perfect. Or else what the hell was the point?” I mean come on, this literally screams obsession with perfection. He finds no interest in something less than perfect and can’t understand why anyone would be different.

“He switched his crayons from red to a black, tucking it back in the cardboard packet in the slot where it belonged.” A subtle but an example of a need for orderliness.

“He hated that there were ugly blue lines slashed through his drawing.” While the context of this scene relates to the lines reminding him of school, they also break the perfect nature of the picture

Some may argue “well if people with OCPD don’t think they’re behavior is so weird, then why is he obviously so bothered by it?” Well see, Thomas isn’t bothered by his OCPD, he’s bothered by his IED. His parents obvious concern is him becoming a surgeon, and dont get me wrong, I don’t wish OCPD upon anyone, but it seems like something 2 asshole parents would for their kid to have. People with OCPD tend to work extremely hard at their jobs, like way too hard, ruins their relationships usally. This whole situation mixed with his IED, just spells disaster. Thomas has absolutely no control in this scenario, he has no say in his medication, his dorm, his school, his studies, etc. to him, it’s not perfect, it’s not exactly how he wants it to be. This also explains why the medication really wasn’t working (and oh boy will I get to the medication part later)

I think I know why Thomas likes cars. He’s in control. To him cars are PERFECT, they’re sleek, shiny, made with no mistakes. When he’s behind the wheel, he has full control over this object that is so incredibly “perfect” he can make it go where he pleases, and go as fast as he pleases.

Now onto the medication part, oh man, fair warning and apologizes, I can already tell I’m going to get heated. Obviously Thomas is 10, so he’s going to have his parents take part in these sort of appointments. But I find it extremely hard to believe Thomas wouldn’t be in there with them. At least in the beginning to disccus any possible side effects. But okay whatever, that’s not even the part that got me mad. So we find out that Thomas is taking 9 medications and is having another one added.

I’m sorry,

What?

There is no way in hell they’re going to prescribe that much medication to a 10 year old. Sure maybe if the kid has fucking cancer, but an IED, OCD(OCPD) and migraines? Hell fucking no. And also they wouldn’t have prescribed the migraine medication “Nurtec” for a 10 year old. This is because the company that makes nurtec doesn’t know if it’s safe for children or not. And If a side effect of the Nurtec was depression, then they would have fucking taken him off of it. ITS LITTERALLY THE MAIN SIDE EFFECTS DOCTORS SAY TO PAY ATTENTION TO!!!!!!!!!!!! And this is assuming that the thing doesn’t even work, because If it did work, why would he be taking 7 other medications????? You’re trying to tell me those are all for OCD and anger mangement? I DONT FUCKING THINK SO. ITS JUST FUCKING UGHHHH THE PARENTS ARE ANNOYING AS FUCK!! PUT YOUR KID IN THERAPY AND STOP COMPARING IT TO A RUPTURED APPENDIX. FUCK THIS HAS ME SO ANGRY. ITS JUST LIKE, NOT ONLY IS THIS WHAT I WANNA GO TO COLLEGE FOR BUT ITS ALSO SHIT IVE EXPERINCED FIRST HAND. IVE BEEN TAKING SOME OF THE EXACT SAME MEDICATION THOMAS HAS SINCE I WAS 12, I KNOW WHAT THE SYSTEM IS LIKE AND THIS AINT IT. Whew sorry about that, I just feel like ranting in all caps can help you calm down a bit faster. Ok I think I’m done, if you read through all this, lol, sorry.

I’m not trying to be mean @the-hamilton-files-author trust me, I don’t expect you to know most of this stuff. It’s a complicated science that I love dearly. Very, very, dearly. :’)

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teenage-fanbitch · 4 years ago

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you left me in this broken world

Fandom: Dream SMP

Word count: 2317

Please remember that this fanfic is about the characters of the SMP, it is not about the content creators and should not be interpreted as suh. There are no romantic relationships in this fanfic because 1. I don't know if the ccs are comfortable with that and 2. I wrote this about their character's friendship.

-----

It was awkward when they first met. At least, for her it was. Will never had issues with meeting new people, he'd just be talking and talking until eventually the person in question talked back.

Maybe it was the way Phil raised him, or maybe he was just born like that. It didn't matter to Niki, because her friend would always smile.

That was something she never seemed to grow tired off. Not back when they first met, not now, not ever.

Things were easier back then, though. Will would sing for her, and they'd dance and laugh their sorrows away.

They'd lost that, somewhere along the way, and she longs to get it back.

They've been through everything together, been through fire and rain for the other. Perhaps it's why she can't handle being away from Will, from the person she considers her brother.

It's not as if she doesn't want him to have this, to create a home for himself, to be free from the voices haunting him in his sleep.

"You deserve the world, Niki."

She remembers watching him softly play a beautiful tune, remembers him warming her frozen fingers, remembers that those hands were not made for war.

"So do you."

-----

They reunite, eventually. She joins the SMP and jumps into Will's arms the moment she sees him. There's a faint smell of battle lingering in his hair, but that doesn't matter, because at least he's still here.

It's fun, walking around L'Manberg with Tommy excitedly telling her the story behind every building.

She understands why Will thinks of him as his little brother, because while Tommy may be annoying, it's endearing to watch him flounder around.

It doesn't calm the raging storm in her, because Tommy's a child, and he just fought in a war, fought for everything he believed in, and he'd died for it.

He'd died for a home.

And Niki will do anything to give her friends one. It doesn't matter if she's known them for years or just met them, they all deserve a place to be happy.

L'Manberg is her everything. It's a place she can annoy Will, can ruffle Tommy's hair, can pass Tubbo a smile, can joke around with Fundy, and can talk for hours on end with Eret, because even they deserve a friend.

Everyone deserves a friend.

-----

Her home is gone the second Schlatt took place on the podium. She's seen bad people before, seen their smirks, the hunger in their eyes, their desire to get what they want.

She's never seen it directed at Will. Everyone loved the boy who played music at the park, who smiled at every person he came across, if only to make their day a tiny bit better. She's never met anyone who looked at him like he needed to be destroyed.

Her hope is gone the second Schlatt banishes her friend. She's seen Will scared before, seen him at his lowest point, but nothing could prepare her for this.

This is Will's home, he fought tooth and nail for it, fought with everything he had. And now it's gone. Her friend loses it all in just a split second, and she can't help but cry his tears.

L'Manberg is gone the second its flag burns. This isn't what L'Manberg was meant to be, was meant to become. This is corruption, and if there's one thing Niki refuses to let happen, it's her friends losing themselves because of it.

-----

There are times when she feels like it's better this way, like Schlatt is a better leader than Will ever could be. Manburg is thriving, and nothing too bad seems to have happened.

But then she hears Quackity scream at Schlatt, and she sees the bottles of alcohol scattered across the white house. She spots Tubbo sneaking away, hands shaking with fear. She sees the hardened eyes of Fundy as he looks at the flag.

She sees herself, sitting at the L'Mantree, looking at where the walls used to be. This is their tree. Except it isn't really theirs anymore, is it?

There were times when they'd come to the tree when she'd listen to Will rant about governing, when Will would sing her a song after a nightmare and she'd finally be able to rest. But Will is gone now, and she's all alone again.

She wants it back. She wants her friend back.

-----

People always tell her she's too kind for her own good, that she wouldn't see an absolute asshole if they'd be standing right in front of her.

But it's not that she doesn't see it, or purposely ignores it. Even the most hated people can have a heart.

The citizens of L'Manberg hate Eret, warned her for the king, but she didn't listen.

Because she knows that deep down, Eret still has loyalty, still has something to fight for, still has a heart.

Even the worst people can be saved. That's what she always thought. But not now, as she stands in front of Schlatt and all she sees is rotten.

Schlatt doesn't deserve her kindness. Not after everything he'd done to her, to everyone. The first punch was one of anger, the second one of hatred, the third one of sadness, and by the fourth one she's lost it.

She's crying and punching and she doesn't even notice when her punches only hit air, when she's dragged away and all that is left are tears as she stares at the bars of her jail cell.

-----

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this. Not when Tubbo is covered in burn scars, when Tommy is no longer bouncing around, when Quackity is silently standing in a corner, and Fundy looks at her like he doesn't know if it was worth it.

She doesn't either. Will has lost it, he wears insanity in his eyes and once she thought she could fix that, could convince him that it was going to be fine.

But she can't, can she? She hadn't missed his coldness towards Tommy, his not caring about Tubbo, his distrust of Fundy. Even Technoblade was worried about him, even Technoblade thought he was too far gone.

Nothing has ever mattered more to her than this, because maybe getting L'Manberg back will get her her brother back, will save him from whatever is destroying him.

-----

They won. L'Manberg is back in their hands and there's still hope. They can make this place a home again.

And so they remove the decorations, remove everything that has something to do with Manburg, with that vile memory.

She's the first to spot the TNT. No one else noticed, and she doesn't want them to. They're finally laughing and she doesn't want to ruin that. So she covers it up, she pretends like it isn't there because they're safe, right?

Until Technoblade breaks. And then so does Tommy, and Tubbo, and all of her friends. They all break.

And so does she, once she realises Will isn't there, because that can only mean one thing. She wasn't able to save him.

-----

She knows Will was gone long before, knows this is probably what he wanted, but she can't help her aching heart the second Phil puts his sword through her friend's chest.

She loved her brother more than anything in the world, and now he's gone. Killed by his own father, by one of the few people that knew how much he was actually hurting.

There's a scream on her lips, and she doesn't care if it gets out, because Will was the one person that had always been there for her, that promised to never leave her. And now he's dead. He's gone and he's not coming back and that scares her.

So she screams and she cries it all out, she doesn't fight the withers, doesn't care if they'll kill her.

Her throat aches and her eyes burn, and it's all Phil's fault. He's the one who did this to her, the one who took her home.

And she screams a little louder.

-----

She finds herself sitting at the L'Mantree again, reminiscing about a past time. Back when Will was still in charge, and they'd be looking at their country, and everything would be okay.

Back when Will would lend her an old coat of his to keep her warm. Now she stole the coat herself, she'd grabbed it from his body, had ruffled his hair one last time, and ran away with tears in her eyes.

She doesn't care that the coat is covered in blood, because it still smells like Will, and it still makes her feel safe.

And safety is something she hasn't felt in a while. Tommy looks so lonely without Will, Tubbo looks too small to wear a presidential coat, Quackity looks so quilty walking around town, Fundy looks so broken and grown up, Phil looks so quilty every time he spots the cave.

And Niki looks at New L'Manberg, and she feels the need to run.

-----

The first sign is the flag. It's a nice flag, and it's good to have something to symbolise a change, that they're not the same.

But it still pains her to see a part of Will disappear. He didn't get a grave, didn't get a memorial, it's like his memory was stained, like he was never even there.

The second sign is when Tommy's exile. It's fair, in a way, but the boy doesn't deserve this. Nobody deserve to relive their trauma like that.

Tommy's irrational actions have hurt a lot of people, but this was still his home, and it wasn't fair of them to take it away from him.

The third sign is the butcher army. Sure, Technoblade isn't exactly innocent, but they'd treated him like he wasn't even human, like he was less than a beast.

And while she may not have liked Phil, may be unable to look the man in the eye, they'd clipped him from his wings and chained him to his house.

L'Manberg was supposed to be free, a way to leave all that cruelty behind. And look at it now, look at what there is left of the nation Will had promised her, the nation he had build with his own two hands.

-----

She sheds no tears when New L'Manberg inevitably falls. This country has been walking a fine line for months now, it's not the place Will had promised her anymore.

It's not. Fundy knows it, Eret knows it, even Tommy and Tubbo know. It's not worth her tears, not worth for her to spill her heart.

So she burns it down. Drops some TNT when she feels like it, because she wants to be a part of its downfall, wants to destroy the thing that had taken so much from her.

The battle has already been lost when she spots the tree, spots the one thing that had remained the same through all these years, and she remembers sitting here and smiling.

Now she watches the tree burn, watches all the memories and all the suffering turn to ashes. Because, even if she had called this place home, had loved its inhabitants, it was never meant to be.

-----

She freezes. Of course she does, because she knows that sweater, knows that beanie, knows who it belongs to. She doesn't know that skin, can't know that skin.

Fundy told her Ghostbur had helped with the renovation, but it couldn't be true, could it? Will is dead, he's gone.

He would've come back for her if he was still here. Ghost or not.

He would've.

It must've been her imagination playing tricks on her, there's no yellow sweater, no red beanie, no Ghostbur.

So she does the one thing she knows how to do. She runs away from her problems once again, doesn't look back, and sets the world further ablaze.

Her world. His world.

Their world.

-----

It starts making sense now. She finally gets why Tubbo exiled Tommy. Sure, he abided Dream in doing so, what only worsened the situation, but she does get it.

Tommy started this whole thing. He considered the discs worth more than anything his friends worked their asses off for. He kept aggravating Dream. He took away everything from her.

Maybe things would be better off without Tommy, maybe Will would've still been at her side if it weren't for him. Maybe Tommy should just die.

-----

The plan doesn't work. Either because Tommy knows what's up or he's just the most lucky bastard on this server.

It hurts to see him like this, though, so insufferably annoying. Because this is the Tommy she first met, the boy who was so bright and had no idea what the future would hold.

How much suffering he'd put everyone through.

She can't stand his innocence, his ignorance, she can't stand him.

"I hate you!" She does, doesn't she? "You left me behind, Will!" But she's not talking to Will, is she? "Tommy. I meant- I meant Tommy."

She takes a few steps back, shakes her head as brown hair returns to blonde, and she doesn't stop the tears that fall.

-----

It's only in her dreams that she finds peace. She doesn't get many of them, she barely sleeps anyway, but when she finally drifts off and it's not the usual nightmares that plague her, she can't help but smile.

It's all a dream, she knows that, but everything is better than her reality, everything is better than the endless cycle of hurt.

So when she spots the L'Mantree still standing, and it's Will welcoming her with open arms, she gives in. She hugs him tight and while it may not be real, it's still Will.

It's still safe.

"Maybe I'll join you some day, Will. Then we can laugh like we used to, sing some songs. We can be free again."

-----

#mcyt #niki nihachu #wilbur soot #dream smp #dsmp nihachu #dsmp niki #dsmp wilbur #fanfiction #fanfic #dsmp fanfic #mcyt fanfiction

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wolfandwild · 4 years ago

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My Shadowlands Wish List

Now that we’re getting closer and closer to pre-patch and the inevitable launch of the expansion, I thought I’d rattle off a wish list of things I hope we get to see in Shadowlands, largely from a lore/story perspective. (Or rather, my stupid foot was hurting so badly I couldn’t concentrate on writing my fic properly, so I decided to ramble off some not-so-hot takes, honestly they’re pretty mild in the grand scheme of things). I was in the first alpha wave, so I’ve had a pretty good opportunity to play the game as it is thus far, and I did want to make it clear up front that I’m fully aboard the hype train. Shadowlands is looking like a great expansion for a number of different reasons, and while I do have a few areas of concern, on the whole I am currently feeling very positive. Please also note these are just my random, late-night personal musings - your mileage may vary, and that’s a-okay. Mild Shadowlands spoilers below the cut.

You Get A Customisation! You Get A Customisation! Everybody Gets A Customisation! This one is pretty much a no-brainer. I don’t necessarily think Blizzard need to have absolutely every possible character customisation ready to go before launch, but I’d like them to continue adding further options over time. I move in a couple of different circles in Warcraft - I’m obviously involved in the writing/lore/character aspect of the game, but I’m also GM of a raiding guild and closely follow the gameplay/competitive side of things too - and customisation is one of those few things that gets everyone excited, regardless of their reason for playing the game. I’m looking forward to seeing a much more vibrant, unique and diverse Azeroth come Shadowlands pre-patch. (Mostly irrelevant side story - when Wrathion returned in the Patch 8.3 cinematics, my Twitter and lore Discords were basically going berserk with excitement, meanwhile there’s a hundred very confused dudes in my raiding guild who don’t read quest text being all, “What the hell is a ‘Wrathion’?”. I live in two different worlds, honestly). Another reason I’m excited about customisation (and I’m probably in a very small minority on this one) is because I actually really dislike allied races, and I think it gives Blizzard an option to add more flavour to character creation in the game without always having to cobble together a new race. I honestly think they should have simply gone for sub-race customisation from the beginning, to avoid having to ass-pull allied races out of nowhere. Using customisation over allied races also makes it far simpler to give something to both factions (e.g. high elves), or to add something for one faction without necessarily having to always add something to the other faction to keep things in balance. Giving an extra hairstyle to humans but not orcs generally isn’t going to cause that much of a fuss, but if one faction were given an allied race and the other wasn’t because there wasn’t a logical racial option, there would be a shitstorm of epic proportions. So you end up in a situation where one faction* gets saddled with a really random, sucky allied race just to be ‘fair’. *The Alliance. It’s the Alliance. Leave Britney Arthas Alone Arthas has never been a personal favourite of mine, but I respect that he has a fantastic story, and that he’s a cornerstone of Warcraft lore. His story is both satisfying and complete, and that’s exactly why they should leave him the hell alone. I don’t mind if he’s visited in flashbacks (like the Bastion cinematic), or if we explore how he affected still living characters (e.g. Jaina, Sylvanas, Bolvar), but I think it would be a mistake to try to make him a central character in the expansion. In contrast, someone like Kael’thas is an excellent choice for an additional arc, because his original story was a bit all over the place and there is still plenty of room for his character development. Arthas doesn’t need it, and I don’t think the minute potential gain is worth the risk of retroactively making the rest of his story worse. On a similar note... Warcraft III Was Released Nearly 20 Years Ago, It’s Time to Move On The Warcraft RTS was a landmark series of games, and was obviously without them we wouldn’t have the World of Warcraft. However, I think the future health of Warcraft’s lore depends on the ability of the writers to grow the story outwards and upwards, not to always default back to the same handful of characters for nostalgia’s sake. While characters like Jaina, and Thrall, and Sylvanas are great, they can’t carry the narrative forever. Shadowlands represents a unique opportunity to build up the next generation of characters and to blow the cosmology of the universe wide open. From what I’ve seen on the alpha/beta, Blizzard are definitely taking a step in this direction, and I’m hoping that’s what we get instead of Patch 9.2 - Oh Look, It’s Thrall Again. On an additionally similar note... Sylvanas Is Crazy, And She Needs To Go Down (I don’t actually think she’s crazy, but one should never miss the opportunity for an Avatar reference). One of my complaints about the recent lore developments in Warcraft its that it’s starting to feel a lot less like the World of Warcraft, and more like the Sylvanas of Warcraft. She’s playing 469D chess; she’s behind everything; she’s the sole driving force of the narrative. I don’t think that works in an MMO that’s meant to tell the story of an entire expanded universe. It makes things feel small. And before I get eaten alive, I want to be clear that I don’t dislike Sylvanas as a character - in fact, I think she’s very compelling and on a night when my foot wasn’t killing me so much I’d be happy to get into an argument as to why she’s actually one of the most consistent and well-written characters in the World of Warcraft. I don’t necessarily think she needs to die, either, but I think it’s time for her narrative to come to a close to make room for other characters in the story, and I don’t think Blizzard are going to get a much better opportunity to give her a satisfying ending than in a death-themed expansion. Justice for Tyrande (Or Vengeance, Whatever Uther Wants to Call It) Tyrande got done dirty in Battle for Azeroth, probably more than any other character. I’m not a massive night elf fangirl by any means, but their entire race was basically used as grist for the mill in Sad Orc Dad’s story, with no next to no narrative follow-up besides a cool cinematic that went absolutely nowhere in game. Outside the game, her character then got subjected to the cacophonous misogynistic crowing of the fanbase that occurs whenever a female character dares to be angry in the World of Warcraft. Much like Jaina, she’s decried for being ‘crazy’ or ‘irrational’ for, you know, being pissed that her people and her homeland were wiped out in an act of wildly disproportional aggression. I don’t know about you guys, but that would tend to make me a wee bit testy, but maybe I’m crazy and irrational too. In any case, I want to see her go off in Shadowlands. Fuck ‘em up, girlfriend. You Get One Villain. If You Drop It, I’m Not Buying You Another One I think most people will agree with me that the two weakest expansions (at least from a narrative perspective) were Warlords of Draenor and Battle for Azeroth. There are a few reasons for this, but for me one of the biggest issues was that they were chop-and-change expansions. Both were advertised and started off with narratives and themes that were wildly different from where they finished up. Warlords was part Iron Horde expansion, part Legion expansion; BFA was part faction war expansion, part Old God expansion... and that’s exactly the problem. Both times, I felt like we got two half-done expansions, instead of one single, cohesive narrative experience. If you look at expansions like Wrath of the Lich King and Legion, both of which were very well received, a lot of their success hinges on their presentation of a consistent narrative with a clear goal for players within the story. The Lich King, for example, was a consistent and very present villain. He menaced you throughout your entire journey, and so his eventual defeat on top of Icecrown Citadel was meaningful and impactful. Defeating N’Zoth, by contrast, felt pretty hollow, as we hadn’t had enough narrative build up to really care about taking him down. Part of the reason I’m excited for Shadowlands is it looks like we’re getting a nice, focused story development that builds up to a logical and satisfying villain in the Jailer. Why Can’t We Be Friends? Look, I bleed blue. I love the Alliance... but the faction war should not continue to be a driving narrative element in the World of Warcraft. I don’t want the factions to be removed, I think they’re a core part of the Warcraft experience and I’d be pretty sad to have to let them go entirely, but the cycle of hating one another then teaming up in an uneasy alliance in order to defeat a bigger bad, only to go back to being at one another’s throats the next day is... tiresome.

Ideally, the war would have ended after Legion - it was the most logical place to do so, and I think it was a big missed opportunity that they ran with Battle for Azeroth immediately afterwards. Unfortunately, I think this means the Alliance is going to just have to forgive and forget, which doesn’t really make a lot sense at this point given everything that happened in BFA, but for the sake of the overall story, it might be a necessary sacrifice. That said... I Am Once Again Asking for Alliance Narrative Agency I know there are a lot of (valid) complaints to be had about the Horde storyline, but the one thing the Horde has always had over the Alliance is that they actually get to drive the narrative forward. The Alliance are pretty much exclusively reactionary, and in a lot of ways are side characters to the main Horde storyline. I’ve made this argument elsewhere, but it honestly wouldn’t be too hard to remove Anduin’s part in Saurfang’s storyline in Battle for Azeroth and have it turn out more or less exactly the same way... which says a lot about the importance of the Alliance in the overall storyline. In short, the Alliance are secondary players at best, and downright irrelevant at worst. One of my biggest hopes for Shadowlands is that we’ll actually get to see some Alliance narrative agency. To be clear, however, this does not mean a simple rehashing of Horde conflicts with a blue coat of paint. Alliance stories are not Horde stories, and nor should they be. Having an Alliance leader turn into a genocidal despot is not the only way to create conflict or agency in the story - there are plenty of opportunities for character growth, development and conflict on the Alliance side without having to have one of our leaders do a heel turn (e.g. Tyrande as the Night Warrior, Anduin dealing with his experience in the Maw, Jaina confronting the fates of people like Kael’thas and Arthas, Taelia meeting her father, etc.), and I really hope we get to see some of those narrative threads come to fruition. I Want to Mount Everything Add a hundred new mounts. Two hundred. A pot plant with googly eyes, the four hundredth Alliance horse, your mum. I’ll ride anything; I don’t even care. (Please note this is the most important opinion I have).

#world of warcraft #shadowlands #shadowlands spoilers #battle for azeroth #lore #turns out i had a few more opinions than i originally realised #anyway shadowlands looks cool guys y'all should check it out #but i would always rather have some warcraft than no warcraft #so take that how you will

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triggeringthehealing · 5 years ago

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The Adventures Of Teen Werewolves In A Town Sitting On Top Of An Evil Tree Stump

Derek/Stiles | PG | 1811w | AO3

Summary: It’s been on Stiles’s mind for a while now, the fact that their experiences aren’t recorded anywhere for posteriority. It’s when they’re looking at the mementoes in the Hale vault that he decides to bring it up to Derek.

A/N: Written for the @fullmoonficlet challenge: prompt #339 - record

"You know, I didn't realize that we never managed to put down all the shit we've been through into some sort of journal or diary, in all the years," Stiles says, shaking his head.

He's standing in the Hale vault that's still safely locked underneath the high school, still full of items from the family's history. The history that is now his too, in a tangential way. There are rows of shelves with all sorts of things on them, from mementos specific to some family members—he's pretty sure he saw a tiny basketball jersey at some point—to general items that were obviously important enough to be kept locked away. The same way that the tea that saved Malia, Scott, and Kira a while back was.

"Would you want to relive those things at some point?" Derek asks from across the vault, his tone incredulous.

"First of all, not all of it was bad," Stiles points out. "Second of all, we've encountered things that I feel would be worth having a record of, especially the parts about how to get rid of them.'

"Shitload of luck and a healthy dose of chance," Derek tells him with a snort. "With a few exceptions when we actually knew what we were doing. Most of those latter ones were also just humans fueled by anger-inducing irrational fear."

"Oh come on, Gerard would warrant an entire chapter all for himself," Stiles says.

He puts down the vial he's been staring at, right next to the tomes that he thinks are important documents, though maybe not quite as valuable as the bonds that were in a separate little safe and had been used to fund Peter's unintentional—or well, not deliberately conscious—deadpool scheme. Derek's already only a few steps away before Stiles starts moving toward him.

"But seriously, with the amount of crap that was thrown our way," he says, walking closer, "we really should put it all down on paper or something, for future generations."

"Are you expecting all those things to return?" Derek asks. "Because I honestly really hope none of them will, ever again."

"You know some of them will."

"Monroe is not that stupid, she won't set foot in California, let alone this town, again."

"Fair. But she does have minions who don't have such self-preservation. And I didn't mean the hunters either, I'm sure there's enough said about them in all the world's packs' records," Stiles tells Derek, reaching out to link their fingers. "I meant more things that go bump in the night. And not the fun kind of bump."

"So, what are we talking about? The Dread Doctors? Because we're several decades away from those being around again, provided someone who's currently human will decide to go down that route for immortality."

"No, I meant things like the Kanima," Stiles replies, his lips tugging into a smile. "We could absolutely get Jackson to help with that one, past and present."

"There's already all that information in the old Hale Bestiary," Derek points out. "Remember where we got it from when he was evolving? Into the creepy thing that I hope never to see again."

"But he didn't and I bet there's nothing in there about a Kanima becoming part werewolf. Or about the way its tail continues to be usable after that transformation," Stiles says with a grin.

"That face you're making is telling me that there are things I do not want to know about Jackson's tail. Ever. Not even if it would help in the future."

Stiles chuckles and tugs on Derek's hand, pulling him closer. He can feel the metal of the ring on Derek's finger against his hand and it makes his heart flutter, still. They've been married for over a year now and the thrill of it hasn't worn off yet. Stiles isn't sure it ever will.

"All I'm saying is, maybe it would be worth it to write it all down. There's stuff that's unbelievable enough that we could maybe disguise it as fiction, publish it as a book."

"The adventures of teen werewolves in a town sitting on top of an evil tree stump?" Derek suggests, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"That's a bit of a mouthful, but for all I know, it might just work."

"You might be on to something," Derek says then, his eyebrows scrunching.

"Really?"

Stiles can't help it, he's surprised that Derek seems to even remotely consider the idea. It isn't one that Stiles thought through, just something he said in the moment, his brain wandering off on a tangent. But it feels like it might be a way to preserve their experiences along with information that might potentially help not only Beacon Hills in the future but also packs around the world. It would definitely be easier to distribute a book that is presented as fiction than it has been trying to get hands on Bestiaries and other similar records of all things supernatural.

"No."

Derek shakes his head and Stiles's growing enthusiasm deflates like a flat tyre.

"There's no way you could put in all the information that you want to put in," Derek says, then holds up a finger when Stiles opens his mouth to protest, indicating that he's not done. "You'd need to have too much info dump and that doesn't make for good fiction. But I'll admit that no matter how much I don't want to go back through the memories of those years, we probably should at least add to the information that Peter already has in his laptop."

Stiles shakes off the disappointment about having his idea—one that he thought was kind of genius—shut down, because Derek agreeing to collect and record what they know is still a win.

"You still have Peter's laptop, right?'

Derek nods.

"Then we'll need to start looking through it."

"Right now?' Derek asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Not right this second, unless you have the laptop with you.."

"I don't. And we were down here for a reason," Derek points out.

"Right. Yeah. Reason."

Stiles steps closer and leans in to press his lips against Derek's.

"Would you like to go back to looking for my birth certificate? Or should we just forget about it?" Derek asks when he pulls away from the kiss a moment later.

"I would like to keep looking, yes," Stiles says. "We can't file for the adoption otherwise."

Because that's why they're here, in the vault, digging through piles of paperwork and—in Stiles's case—poking at all the treasures that generations of Hales left behind. They need Derek's birth certificate to apply for the adoption of Leah, a werewolf cub who found her way to them a few months ago, her pack decimated by hunters adjacent to Monroe's dwindling army. They've been taking care of her since, Stiles's father officially registered as a foster parent and in charge of her. But with multiple strings pulled and with Leah already attached to them both and to the pack, they want to make things official.

Derek is back across the room and looking for the necessary paperwork when Stiles gets an idea.

"Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I could try and take some of the stuff that we survived and make it into a story book anyway?"

"You're not reading stories about the Alpha pack or the Nogitsune to a three year old werewolf cub," Derek says firmly.

"I would not—“

"You would. But you won't."

Stiles wants to argue, but the urge only lasts a few seconds. After that, his mind comes up with all the possible results of retelling the Nogitsune events to Leah and he balks at the thought of not only traumatizing her with some of the parts but also inspiring her with some others. Her curiosity is off the charts as it is, she really doesn't need encouragement. Which is probably why Derek's putting an end to the idea before Stiles can even try to make it happen.

"I won't," Stiles says in a defeated tone.

"We'll have our hands full anyway, there's no reason to make it worse," Derek tells him, confirming that Stiles was right about his motivation. "But maybe you're right."

"Wait, what?" Stiles asks, surprised at that last addition.

"About recording things. Putting all the information together. Maybe even doing it the way you said we could," Derek tells him, looking almost like it hurts to admit that Stiles is right.

It's a tone and expression that Stiles has seen many times before, Derek grudgingly admitting that Stiles has a good point. It never fails to be satisfying.

"I get to write a book?" Stiles asks instead of openly gloating.

"We get to write a book. All of us," Derek says. "There are things that some of us know that others don't, so we'll need to work on it together. With everyone."

"Not Peter."

"Yes Peter. Seeing as there are things he’s been part of that no one else was. Also your dad."

Stiles cringes but nods. There's no one person who has all the information that he wants to write down, no single member of the pack who would know everything exactly the way it happened.

"You're right."

"I am," Derek says with a grin and he turns to a folder with what looks like paperwork that's on a shelf right next to them. "I also found what we were looking for," he adds as he reaches for the folder and flips it open.

"Yeah?"

Derek turns a few pages, then triumphantly pulls out one of the sheets in there.

"Derek S--"

"No."

"Come on, you know my first name."

"And I don't know your middle name. So you're not reading mine," Derek says, holding the printed side of the certificate out of Stiles's line of sight.

"Genim," Stiles says easily. "That's the easy one. Now can I see?'

"No."

"Derek."

"Stiles."

"Is that your middle name? Because that would be weird," Stiles says, grinning when Derek levels him with a glare.

"I'll tell you when Leah's adoption is complete, how's that?" Derek offers.

Stiles nods because he can wait that long. Maybe if he's lucky he'll even get to see the documents before that, so it's a win either way. He's already won one thing today, the fact that they'll write down all the things that happened in their lives up to this point. He hasn't said it, but part of why he wanted to was so the future generations would have a record that would be easy to find, notes on all the possible dangers they could face.

So that when Leah will grow up, she'll be better prepared for the world than he was. When Derek reaches for his hand and links their fingers, Stiles figures that maybe he gets it too.

#sterek fanfic #sterek #eternalsterek

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five-wow · 4 years ago

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Hi, I'm a fellow writer in the fandom and I admire your work. I wanted to ask, as a popular writer, do you get fixated sometimes on the number of kudos/comments/hits etc that your new work gets, and does this impact your motivation/inspiration? I think comparison is the thief of joy, and I really want to get over this feeling when I post my own work, so was wondering if even popular and regular writers such as yourself feel like this to, and if , what's your secret? Thanks!

Hi! 1) You are so sweet, ahh, and 2) YES, I DO. Gosh, yes, I absolutely do get insecure about those kinds of things, and I think that anyone who says they don't ever feel that way is either lying (to themselves, possibly) or maybe just pure magic, like some cross between a writer and a unicorn.

I love ao3 and I love all of its metrics and I love numbers and statistics, but there’s definitely that shadow side where having all of that easily available makes it deceptively easy to compare your own work to other people’s. I do it all the time! It honestly makes it a little hard for me at times to read h50 fic and fully enjoy it, because I keep... looking at it and wondering how my own stacks up against it, unwillingly. That's not a relaxing experience, and sometimes not even a very fun one. (Another part of it is that I just write SO MUCH for h50 and there is SO MUCH I still want to write, and I don’t want to risk reading something that’s very close to an idea I had and then never being quite sure if what I write after that was influenced by the other person’s work or if it’s really still my idea, because I have this (pretty irrational) fear of accidentally stealing someone else’s work even though one of the really great things about fandom is that it’s a very collaborative process as a whole and being inspired by other people’s stuff is usually totally okay, buuuut that’s a different rambly story.)

And I definitely do also get... some cringey feelings, hardcore, around fics I posted that don't do very well numbers-wise. Sometimes it's expected - fic that doesn't follow traditional formats or doesn't feature Steve/Danny, for example, is always something where I KNOW it won't get as much attention because I know how fandom works and that lessens the sting because it doesn't HAVE to hold up to those other fics that perform way better, because I already know it's not really comparable. The truth is, of course, that most fic is not really comparable to other fic, but it’s easy to fall into that trap anyway. If I post something that seems like my average kind of work and it gets less kudos or comments than usual, I do start to doubt the fic and second-guess myself - is something about this weird? Is it too [insert quality x]? Is it bad? Did I unknowingly do something terrible and people are now avoiding me? The answer to all of those is probably no, and going through it a bunch of times has definitely helped, because what usually happens is that I end up somewhat avoiding the fic in question because it makes me a little ashamed and awkward to think about it (a relative failure! oh no! I'm human!) and then, eventually, I return and reread the fic. By that point I have enough distance from it in time that I can look at it a lot more objectively, and it's way easier to see what works and what does not than when I posted it and I had just read it a dozen times in twenty-four hours and the words were burned into my brain. And upon that reread, inevitably, I realize that, holy shit, it was NOT AS BAD as I had made it out to be in my mind! It’s actually kind of fun! Imagine the ego boost of realizing your most cringy recent work is actually pretty okay, haha, and it's silly, but it's a revelation every time. The quality of a fic is not dictated by how many people read it or comment on it or like it, and intellectually I absolutely know that, but it’s hard to remember when it’s about yourself and you’re still in that emotionally vulnerable place of having just shared your work with the world and it feels like the world is not as into it as you thought (or hoped) it’d be. It’s honestly very, very reassuring to have those experiences to fall back on, but sadly the only way I know to get there is to just tough it out and feel super awkward for a while.

When I’m writing, on the other hand, I usually don’t really think about what other people might think of it. I have the advantage that (pretty much) all of my work consists of fairly short stand alone stories, which means I don’t have to struggle with keeping my motivation up for a second chapter of something but I get to start fresh every time, and that’s nice, because I can just lose myself in the joy of throwing words around and making characters do things that make me giggle. That’s not to say I never think of the outside world while writing - I realized, pretty recently, that I occasionally end up constructing paragraphs or pieces of dialogue a certain way mostly so it will make for a good excerpt to put in the eventual fic description, which might give me a sense of accomplishment because it’s nice when things work out and look good, but in all fairness it’s probably far more motivated by attempts to package the finished work attractively so other people will want to click on it than by anything else. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. I don’t think so - I don’t feel like it lessens my work and it doesn’t interrupt my enjoyment of it in the moment, which are the key elements for me - but other people might disagree.

But the heart of thing is, just, there are SO MANY factors that influence a fic’s numbers, and not all of them are visible (I’d argue most of them aren’t, in fact), and it always helps me to keep that in mind. It puts things in perspective somewhat and softens the harshness of a black and white kudo count judgment. Numbers can depend on when you post a fic (what day of the week, time of the year, time relative to big fandom moments, whether you’re in the middle of a global pandemic or not), how you pick your title, what you put in the description, how you use the tags, what genres or tropes are popular in your specific fandom, the genre of your fic in general (pwp as a rule tends to get lots of hits and few kudos or comments, for example, making it totally unfair to compare it to G-reated fluff fic with super different ratios), how much you’ve posted before (because if someone likes one of your works, they’re often likely to check if you have more in the same fandom), how many fics other people post around the same time (because yours might be gone from the first page of most recently updated works in a fandom or ship tag very quickly if others push it out), how big your fandom is(!!!) (over two thirds of my works on ao3 are for h50, but h50 only makes it into the top 10 of my most kudo’d works by the skin of its teeth) and definitely also what your fandom’s culture is like (compared to a lot of other fandoms, h50 fans are a-ma-zing when it comes to leaving comments, my gosh, and as a writer I adore all of you), how old your ao3 account is (the longer you’ve been around, the more likely a higher number of people is subscribed to you as an author or has read your previous work or has encountered your name, etc), how long your fic is (under a thousand words in my experience generally does less well than 1-5k, but longer fics might end up with lots of chapters which switches things up because people come back to it when there’s an update, and even if a long work is all in one chapter it will probably stand out for the wordcount and might attract attention that way, etc), whether or not your fic is part of a series (in my experience it will probably get more hits because it’s a chain of fics that leads you to the next one, but the kudos might not go up at the same rate because people might forget a kudo or reread previous works when a new one is added), whether you make a habit of commenting on other people’s fic (I’ve had comments saying MY comment on their work led them to my fic!), if you have social media like Tumblr or Twitter where you can promote your work (it’s advertising, basically), and any of a bunch of random little other factors. Sometimes, I see a sudden little cluster of kudos on an old fic in the daily ao3 kudos email, and I assume someone somewhere maybe recced that fic, but it usually remains a total mystery who or where or even if it happened at all and wasn’t just a weird coincidence to begin with. Sometimes the thing a fic’s popularity depends on is really just whether it clicks with people at that point in time, whatever that means, which is an even more impossible thing to grasp or predict than anything else.

Or you can look at things from a totally different angle and not try to make yourself care less about numbers, but just accept that you do because you’re human and we all crave validation, and instead try to roll with that. A brain hack: when I do start getting down about numbers, it also helps me to focus on one work and just... try to visualise what those kudo (or hit or bookmark or comment) counts mean, if you were to translate them to the real world. While it can be super helpful to remember that there’s a LOT going on that you can’t see and that’s virtually impossible to really explain, it’s also nice to somewhat do the opposite and try to make things as concrete as possible instead. I like measuring in school classes (~25-30 heads, I’d say) and “my fic only has fifty kudos but this other person’s has ten times as many” could easily make anyone sad and demotivated, but “my fic has fifty kudos and that’s TWO WHOLE CLASSROOMS packed full of people that all read my work and liked it so much they wanted to give me a little thumbs up for it” is actually pretty cool and encouraging, I think. Or you could measure in sports teams (I don’t know sports, but soccer has 11 players on the field per team, so as soon as your fic has 33 kudos that’s three teams which means you’ve got yourself a little beginning league! how exciting!) or in DnD campaigns (variable of course, but most of mine have had around four players plus a DM, so if you have twenty kudos? that’s FOUR WHOLE DnD campaigns that enjoyed reading your fic, and it’s fully up to you how many half-orcs that includes). You could apply this method using literally any other measurement that works for you, too. If you have a hard time painting a mental image of numbers, you could even open up a Paint doc or get a piece of paper and start counting out little dots or copy-pasted images of a person, or get a big bag of physically present M&Ms and count them out, or take a good look at your dog and then go around the neighborhood and collect forty-nine more dogs and pile them all into your home and be slightly frightened by the utter delighted fluffy chaos that ensues in your living room. That’s how many people liked your fic! That’s a heck of a lot of wagging tails! Who knew a kudo could bark this loudly!

Disclaimer: maybe keep the dog thing as your very last resort, because your neighbors might not be super into their pet getting dognapped for the purpose of visualizing fanfiction stats. The point is really just to remember that there’s an actual person behind every kudo you get, no matter what the cumulative number is, and even if you have seven or five or three kudos, that’s seven or five or three very real people that hit that button. That’s pretty damn awesome. Also keep in mind how you feel if you read a fic, and take some time to realize that every single person that left you a kudo went through that same process of spending time reading words (the words you wrote!) and experiencing that story and THAT’S why they left that kudo. It’s a real person’s real investment.

This ended up very long and rambly, so tl;dr: You are in no way alone in feeling that way, it's okay and normal and so very very human to feel like that, but you still shouldn't let it get you down, because numbers fake being meaningful very well but are deep down just little squiggles on your screen and they’re more scared of you than you are of them, while at the same time there are real individuals that enjoy your work even if you usually never see them. Your fic is worth posting. That’s the one factor in all of this that’s a constant, not a variable.

(And as a very important sidenote, just be kind to yourself, always. Does it truly stress you out? Are you feeling really bad about it today? Does it make your anxiety spike? Then give yourself room to take a little step back and allow yourself some time away from it. Go watch something you enjoy, or read something nice, or do something else that makes you feel good. Fic is something that should add to your life, not subtract from it. You don’t owe anyone anything, not even yourself in this context, and I used to push myself occasionally to get something finished TODAY, and eventually I started realizing, well, why? Why not instead of reading it over again just get some sleep or watch an episode of something I want to watch, especially if I literally just finished the fic and I feel a little unsure about it and it might actually be beneficial to me and my own feelings about it if I just give it a day or even a week and let it rest and then look at it again and THEN post it, if I want to, whether that’s with some changes beforehand or not? Who set me that deadline that’s apparently looming over me? I did, and it’s fake, and it’s there for absolutely no good reason. Breathe. Put yourself first. Be really really really selfish about your own fic writing experience, even, because it’s supposed to be something you enjoy (that’s what a hobby is!), and the rest is secondary.)

#anon #ask #writing #ao3 #it's very odd to get called a popular writer by the way oh my gosh #nice!!! so very nice!!! thank you!!! but also difficult to reconcile with my own internal image of myself #all the more evidence that brains lie to us all the time #*

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enbyleighlines · 5 years ago

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I'd love to see interactions between Wen Qing and Nie Huaisang in your modern au, with or without Jiang Cheng being present. Just curious about how the poly dynamics settle.

Ooooh, yes! This is a great prompt! Thank you so much for the suggestion, anonymous~

—

Nie Huaisang stands at the foot of a cement staircase. They lead to a rather ornate door, which is far fancier than the apartment building it’s attached to.

This is Nie Huaisang’s first time in this part of town. They double-check the address on the mailbox to the one they’ve scribbled down on a piece of scrap paper. The numbers match. Nie Huaisang has successfully found Wen Qing’s place of residence.

Nie Huaisang does not feel particularly accomplished. The dominant emotion in their chest at the moment is panic. Their anxiety keeps them rooted in place, as though their black flats are somehow glued to the sidewalk. This frozen state is so strong that it prevents Nie Huaisang from acting on their impulse to flee the scene.

There isn’t any rational reason to be afraid. Or so Nie Huaisang tells themself.

Wen Qing invited them here. Wen Qing is a rational woman. Wen Qing sounded perfectly reasonable when she talked to them on the phone. Hence, it is very unlikely that she will attempt to stab Nie Huaisang to death with a kitchen knife.

But they are dating the same man, and jealousy can do weird things to the human brain. Nie Huaisang knows that all too well. Though their friendship with Wei Wuxian is entirely platonic, Nie Huaisang has been a repeat target of Lan Wangji’s icy stare of death. It just goes to show that love is irrational.

So Nie Huaisang is stuck in limbo. They said they would come, so backing out now might only add fuel to the fire of Wen Qing’s anger. But it’s hard to climb stairs when one is chilled to the bone with fear.

It’s an unpleasant state of being. Nie Huaisang considers the possibility of being stuck there forever.

Then the ornate door opens.

Wen Qing stands in the threshold, one hand on her hip. She’s in casual wear— sweatpants on the bottom, and a simple tank and flannel cardigan combo on top. Her hair is in a lop-sided bun, too. It’s the kind of outfit that says, ‘I’m determined to enjoy the hell out of my day off.’

Nie Huaisang can respect that.

“Are you going to come in?” Wen Qing asks with a quirked brow, “I’m brewing some coffee, if that helps.”

“Coming!” Nie Huaisang says.

—

Besides the coffee brewer, the kitchen is eerily silent. Nie Huaisang sits at the small table at the window. It has a nice view of the street outside, and the park down the block, if one cranes their head enough to look for it.

The kitchen itself is small and cluttered, but there’s obviously a method to the madness. Any papers and books are stacked neatly, and the knick-knacks are evenly spaced throughout the room. It’s the kind of space that would look far more organized if only the room were larger.

Wen Qing leans against the counter. She is watching the coffee drip, as the carafe slowly fills.

It is just as awkward as Nie Huaisang feared it would be.

Then Wen Qing says, “I suppose I should preface this with the fact that, as hard as it is to believe, I’m not a jealous person. I’ve never been much interested in commitment when it comes to dating. I prefer keeping things casual.”

Nie Huaisang blinks at her.

“Obviously, that didn’t happen with Jiang Cheng,” Wen Qing continues, “I didn’t mean to catch feelings, but here we are. So that’s what I’m struggling with.”

Nie Huaisang thinks about that. But, to be honest, they don’t quite understand. “You... don’t want to love him?”

The word ‘love’ has a strange effect on Wen Qing. She unexpectedly reverts from a confident young woman to a self-conscious schoolgirl in her body language. “Oh,” she says, fiddling with a loose strand of hair, “I... we haven’t been calling it love. Not yet.”

Now that’s also perplexing. Nie Huaisang has never understood the tendency for some people to tiptoe around the L word.

“But that’s neither here nor there,” Wen Qing speaks up, after gathering her composure, “I asked you to come over because I want to make a selfish request, and it has to be done face to face.”

“What selfish request?” Nie Huaisang asks. This conversation is not going the way they had anticipated at all, and now curiosity is replacing fear.

Wen Qing sighs. It’s appropriately dramatic, and Nie Huaisang approves.

“Originally,” Wen Qing admits reluctantly, “I had intended to step aside, as soon as it became apparent that the two of you were compatible.”

Nie Huaisang can’t help it; they gasp.

“I thought it would be best,” Wen Qing explains, “Jiang Cheng cares about me, but our relationship needs are very different. I need time to be alone, to be able to think and focus on my work. Jiang Cheng wants someone to dote on; he likes to feel needed. He will swear up and down that he’s fine with our relationship being casual, but I think he’s just too stubborn to admit we’re not as compatible as he’d like to believe.”

Nie Huaisang listens attentively. A flurry of emotions beats against their chest. It’s hard to identify them individually. “So,” they say, “you intend to... break up with him?”

“That’s where the selfish part comes into play.” Wen Qing rubs the back of her neck, grumbling incoherently to herself for a moment. “I hate to say this,” she tells them, “but I don’t think I can bear breaking up with him. Like I said before, I didn’t intend to catch feelings. But I did. And maybe the rational response is to nip this in the bud now, but... I also want to see if we can make it work, despite the odds.”

“Ahh.” Nie Huaisang is not stupid, although they like to pretend. They can see where this is going. “You want to try out a poly relationship.”

Wen Qing nods.

“I’m just confused about one thing,” Nie Huaisang says, “I... I just kind of assumed that’s what we were already doing?”

Wen Qing snorts. “Ah, well, unofficially.... yes. But Jiang Cheng and I still call ourselves casual, and you’ve only been dating him a couple of weeks. So it’s not like either of us have been going steady — as the kids would say — with him.”

That earns a giggle from Nie Huaisang. “That’s true,” they admit.

“I think you two are a great match,” Wen Qing says, seemingly out of nowhere, “I’ve seen the way Jiang Cheng lights up when he talks about you. You’re... well, don’t take this personally, but you’re kind of high maintenance.”

Nie Huaisang is not offended. They laugh and mime fanning themself like a Southern belle. “That’s fair.”

“Like I said earlier, Jiang Cheng likes to feel needed. You make him feel needed.”

“Mm.” Nie Huaisang nods thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve also noticed that. Jiang Cheng grumbles and gripes whenever someone asks him for a favor, but it puts a little extra spring in his step. And he absolutely blows his top if I ask someone else for a favor instead of him.”

Wen Qing smiles warmly. There’s affection lighting up her eyes as she says, “He’s the same way with me. If I go too long without asking him for a favor, he just starts offering to do things for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nie Huaisang murmurs. Like cooking popcorn, wicked, wonderful ideas are suddenly bounding around inside their brain.

The coffee machine makes a horrid gurgling sound as it finishes its long and arduous process of filling the carafe. Wen Qing busies herself with preparing them both a mug. She also puts out cream and sugar on the table, though she makes no move to put either in her own cup.

Nie Huaisang, in contrast, is very generous in adding cream and sugar to their coffee.

“So,” Wen Qing says, “Are you okay with trying out a poly relationship? Of course, we’ll have to iron out all the details with Jiang Cheng present. But first, I wanted to make sure that it’s something that you’d be open to.”

Nie Huaisang doesn’t have to think about it. “Of course,” they answer, “On one condition.”

“Oh?”

Here, Nie Huaisang allows themself to be a little mischievous. “Poly relationships rely on complete honesty from all parties, right?”

“Yes?”

Nie Huaisang nods sagely. They channel every villain role they’ve ever wanted to play as they say, “Then, in that case, you need to be honest about your feelings for Jiang Cheng, in front of Jiang Cheng.”

Wen Qing stares at him blankly. Then, realization starts to creep in.

“You have to use the L word.”

#mo dao zu shi #mdzs modern au #asks #anon #anonymous #drabbles #leigh’s writing

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shinidamachu · 6 years ago

Text

Holding On And Letting Go

Summary: he wanted time to pass him by as fast as it could. Fast enough to lose all its meaning until the day he would hold her again. She wanted time to stop. The ghosts of everything she was missing and the irrational fear of being forgotten too much to bear. They had always believed time was on their side. But time turned its back on them.

I was wondering what would be like if Inukag had developed the habit of talking to each other through the well despite knowing there would be no response. This is a compiled of these moments, so is basically a plotless, short story with few chapters.

But I do intend to write the reunion at the end.

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV

Word Count: 1.471 Genre: angst Fandom: InuYasha Pairing: Inukag Format: multichapter AO3 Link: 🌹 Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

InuYasha would never admit it, not even to the Gods themselves, but he was exhausted like he has never been before.

She would have noticed it, he thought to himself, slowly making his way to the Honekui no Ido. She would have called me a liar to my face when I said I was fine and made me rest either I liked it or not. The only problem was he didn’t need to rest.

He needed her.

And the idea that she may be permanently out of his reach seemed so absurd he couldn’t bring himself to fathom it at all.

InuYasha knew when resplendent lights involved him against his will and saw it on her face as the well abruptly casted him back into his own era. Something was wrong.

Kaede was the one to explain, earlier that day, what happened. The Honekui no Ido had served its purpose marvelously and now that their mission had come to an end, the magic that connected their worlds faded. InuYasha understood that.

Yet he refused to accept it.

So there he was, alone in the middle of the night, claws buried deep into the woodend edges of the well, eyes fixed on its bottom. It didn’t look any different from the outside. Swallowing the lump that had lodged in his throat since he returned, the hanyou jumped inside.

It hurted even more than he had imagined when his feet touched the ground.

He knew it would happen — as if he was fated to watch helpless while she slipped through his fingers again and again — but pretending he could dive into the Honekui no Ido in one moment and be holding her in the next when he wasn’t absolutely certain he couldn’t was the only way to make things bearable. After all, lying to himself was the only kind of lie he was good at.

There was no pretending now, the portal wasn’t there anymore.

He sat there and let defeatense involve him in the dark.

“We finally did it.” He said, in the tone he saved just for her. “Naraku is gone and everyone else is fine. It’s over now. We won.” Without his consent a heavy sigh followed. “Then why do I feel like I lost everything?”

Then InuYasha realized what his exhaustion was about. He could probably fight a thousand youkais one by one at that very moment — courtesy of being a hanyou. But not even demon blood could heal a broken heart.

“No.” He shook his head, jaw clenching in determination. “I’m not losing you. So do what you gotta do and come back, you hear me? I’ll be waiting right here.” As his arms crossed, echoes of his own voice was the only response. “Come back to me.”

Kagome had tried everything.

From resorting to her spiritual powers to praying — and going as far as using her grandpa’s old charms —, nothing seemed to work. No matter what she did, the well insisted on remain as inactive as it was before she turned fifteen.

Even though Kagome had been trapped in her era before, this was a entirely different situation. She could no longer feel the magnetic presence that captivated her soul in ways she had yet to fully comprehend.

It infuriated and terrified her at the same time.

Both hands on her waist, gazing at the wooden structure, she closed the short distance with unwavering purpose. For the fifth time that day, she dived into the Honekui no Ido, and for the fifth time that day, nothing happened.

Frustration clasped her hands into a trembling fist.

“WHY — WON’T — YOU — WORK?” She jumped between the words, letting anger fill the gap among them in a pathetic attempt to restore the lost portal. Realizing flushed cheeks and white knuckles would be her only achievement, Kagome sat on her knees.

“I can’t get back.” The more the phrase resounded through her mind the more it lost its meaning.

It had been days since Kagome had last seen him. She was still not sure of how it happened or why. In one second InuYasha was there, watching as she involved her mother in a cramped hug. In the other, he disappeared and she was left screaming his name and staring to the empty bottom of the old construction.

The well hasn’t worked ever since.

After several minutes being held captive by paralyzing despair, Kagome decided to leave. The last thing she needed was to worry her family even more.

There was no use in staying, anyway. With the jewel vanished forever, no magical happenstance would miraculously save her this time.

“I’m sorry.” Was the last thing she whispered before climbing her way out.

“It’s been weeks and they’re still tiptoeing around me.” Inuyasha let the back of his head fall on the wooden surface and focused on the clouds drifting through the blue sky — even them seemed to have a place to be. “It’s so irritating! Acting so fucking nice all the time and pretending it’s their normal behavior as if I couldn’t tell the difference, telling me you’d want me to be happy as if I didn’t know that already!”

Deep down, InuYasha appreciated the concern of his friends, but there was nothing they could possibly do to make him feel better. They couldn’t just ignore her absence and go on as if nothing happened, but they couldn’t keep treating him with such caution either. Ultimately, it only made him feel like a burden.

That was why InuYasha valued those moments alone in the sole spot in the whole land where he could feel closer to her, when he didn’t have to put up a tough facade or threaten to cut off the head of whoever asked if he was alright. It was almost peaceful.

“In the meanwhile, your scent faded away.” The hanyou informed, trying not to sound too desperate about it. He could either face reality or get smashed by it, and as far as reality was concerned, Kagome’s aroma — both a source of comfort and a reassurance of her presence — was doomed to disappear eventually. InuYasha wasn’t eager to face a world without her smell in it. He had done it before and it positively sucked. “Everything feels so wrong without it.” He made a long pause. “They want to help me? Why don’t they bring you back to fix this yourself?” InuYasha felt his lips curve into a lifeless smile. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

Although the half demon knew he wasn’t being fair to his friends — without them he would be in a much darker place — right then he didn’t care.

Few were the things he still cared for.

“Well, the mess you made in the kitchen was completely fixed a while ago.” Kagome smiled affectionately at the memory of InuYasha destroying her sink in the name of killing a cockroach, but it didn’t last long. “It’s like you’ve never been here.”

Suddenly, the truthfulness of the statement sinked in. It really is like that, isn’t it? She embraced her legs and let her chin rest on her knees.

It was a deeply hidden fear of hers, that someday he would be gone and she would be left with nothing to proof that everything they’ve been through had been real, not just a fairytale with a bittersweet ending that her mind had created out of boredom.

“I still have your cap in my bedroom, though. It was never used before you came along, so I don’t quite know what to do with it. Truth be told, I don’t know what to do with myself, either.”

While in their quest to defeat Naraku, Kagome had so thoughtfully concentrated on the mission that she left to worry about ‘after’ when that moment came. Now ‘after’ was here and it was nothing like she had imagined.

She sighed.

“We didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye.” Always the optimistic, the priestess shook the depressing thought off. “Maybe it’s for the best.” Goodbyes were for people who needed closure and that was the last thing Kagome wanted. Besides, she didn’t trust herself to simply let him go if the opportunity was given. “How could I ever say goodbye to you, after all?”

If her past experiences had taught her something was that the bond they shared wasn’t the type of thing one could merely walk away from. The Honekui no Ido may never work again, but the invisible force that tied their destinies together remained strong. Kagome could feel it pulsing within her veins.

Unfortunately, it didn’t make things any easier.

The sobs came without warning.

“I know you hate when I cry...” She managed to say between short breaths, failing on keeping composure. “But you’re not here, so…”

Unceremoniously, Kagome allowed the tears to pour.

A/N: this is probably not the content you guys would be into. I’m sorry. Just blame it on Ross Copperman.

#Inukag #InuYasha #Kagome Higurashi #Holding On And Letting Go #Inukag Multichapter #Inukag Fanfic #Inukag Angst #Inukag Fic #Sid Writes

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chrliekclly · 7 years ago

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do you think charlei and dee had sex because they mistook their genuine platonic bonding as attraction? (serious question, steming from thatlesbian dee post). I never thought of it that way, and I'm interested to hear that side !

YES that’s actully smthn i lose my sht abt !! iv blown up ppls mssgs with this kinda talk like, im a mess. ok lemme type right nd lemme type A Lot Again Anyways cz thos 2 giv me Way too many feelings (im spposd to b working on a final rn christ…)

okay…i scrolled back up after finishing nd turns out i went…literally insane…aka Much too far…so i need to under-the-cut it. mobile…viewers…i’m rly so sorry. swipe hard to leap ahead…hell im sorry fr computer viewers too. my theme is rough.

to start, my HCs surrounding chardee are rooted in charlie being on the ace spectrum and dee being gay (or like @ least bi, but imo all the men stuff is straight up compulsory heterosexuality).

i will always cling tight to the deleted scene wherein charlie says he thinks sex is gross and will genuinely get sick when he thinks about it unless he thinks about it with one specific woman. i know he shows sexual interest a decent amount of times throughout the show and has canonically had sex (on camera too, yeesh) but i see each time as very out of the blue moments (coming onto dee @ multiple points while worked up, agreeing to bang tatiana cuz she says to, that kinda thing) or relating to his long standing and delusional obsession with the waitress. in that vein, he’s also canonically enjoyed sex, and I don’t try and blind-eye any of it, because ace doesn’t always mean sex can’t be enjoyed in the moment. charlie definitely has a libido, and bodies be bodies. hell, sex-repulsed can sometimes even flip 180 in the right conditions. shit is one fun spectrum i’ll tell you that…but either way, to start with him, i think him going forward with banging dee was very much a misjudgment of what feelings are and being extremely caught up in a moment where he felt real, genuine, closeness with someone else who he was having a damn good time making terrible poetry with.

as for dee, i, first of all, just agree with everything in that post. in the context of chardee, as much as i will lose my mind in tags about how hard i ride or die the ship, it’s mostly my obsession with their dynamic. i don’t think chardee is meant to be endgame. i absolutely 100% believe that dee, too, is misinterpreting her feelings. i think part of it is her consistent comp het, and the other is she’s never been close with someone the way she has been with charlie, and she doesn’t know what she’s meant to do with it. i think she was similarly caught up in a moment in which she showed her own vulnerability, opening herself up to someone who could easily just ridicule her as she’s used to (”right now? i’m scared”), and she receives support from him instead (”you’re not gunna bomb, you’re gunna do great”). we’ve seen how much dee craves validation, thats her entire thing. i’m not shocked she dropped her pants in this moment lmao. she probably felt her damn heart flutter cuz she got told by someone who she at least somewhat trusts that she really is good, even if she doesn’t think so. the only rational explanation for the feeling associated with that person is that he’s The One right? pretty big leap

just…basically i dont think either of them know what a relationship is.

charlie’s lived nearly his entire life deluding himself into thinking that, 1. he and the waitress have a relationship that is anything other than creepy, and 2. that the warped-ass mess of an image he’s created in his brain for what he and the waitress are to each other is what love is. he thinks he’s making progress in getting close to her when the only thing she’s Ever done pre-s12 is ask him to leave her the fuck alone. he’s never even attempted to look past the waitress before, and the only time he shows interest in other people it’s purely his libido talking. he doesn’t pursue romance, and the one time we’ve seen him do so he was using her to get to, who else?, the damn waitress.

dee’s lived her entire life having to prove herself to every single person she interacts with, and its familiar to her to getting ahead by using men, usually as sexual objects. i’m hesitant to bring this up on a post wherein i speak on dee’s sexuality because i don’t want to link this trait to it in any way as if its related, but to be fair, dee is as much a serial rapist as dennis is in that regard. the gang are shitty people, we know that. she will get men drunk to have sex with them, or pressure them into it, or trick them into it. she’s not having sex with these men for pleasure, she’s literally doing it for power. it’s absolutely fucked up, but so is she.

when she Is romantically involved, she’s shown to leap headfirst into those relationships and blow them out of proportion on 0 grounds for it. she buys a promise ring for a guy who didn’t think they were dating, it’s implied she’s going to actually go ahead with the brad fisher marriage thing after the episode ends, she gloats about how important she is to a stripper who was literally shame-crying during sex (also? she says “we BOTH wept,” and she can say that’s because it was that good, but i really doubt it). i mean the woman GAGS when talking to men she’s “nervous” around, something she takes as meaning she’s attracted to them? lmao uh???

at this point i’ve probably repeated myself over and over, my brain is on backwards and my train of thought went off the rails years ago. but i’m still gunna retype an old set of tags i found:

i hc that neither of them end up together but they do go through a relationship-ish phase, but dee’s gay and charlie’s okay with that (and always ace in my mind) because they finally move on from their own irrational drives to adhere to what they think is expected of them. i dont think either of them have any idea what a relationship is meant to be and they pathetically grasp at each other because they’re kind-ish to one another and that feels safe for once. chardee may be my main ship but i purposefully backtrack on myself because i know they’re two people who barely know love and have found each other, both as underdogs in their environments, and feel an electrifying Something that they Cant Name wen theyre together, and that something just so happens to be friendship and they don’t realize it cuz they’re doofuses who’ve led really unfortunate lives where friendship and hatred are always intermingling.

i’ve never brought it up here, but i often imagine a timeline of their relationship, because i enjoy the idea of them figuring themselves out through each other, just because they are genuinely amazing (platonically) together, and they get into some of my favorite shit. the thought of late night talks and confessions about their worries and confusion about their feelings while lying in bed, just close because they feel comfortable that way, realizing they can keep loving each other and not force it to mean something it doesn’t, the relief that comes with that, a final kiss that really doesn’t mean anything but thank you, not losing what they had but rather gaining a whole new kind of intimacy, and still getting into absolutely ridiculous situations. maybe dee realizes shes, ironically, found herself with a crush on the waitress and it cracks charlie up. he doesnt mind. he’s finally learned that if he Is going to be with someone it should definitely be with someone who makes him feel at Least half as comfortable as the way being around dee does, and knowing he doesn’t have to make himself look for that, but when he knows he will know. plus, he cant imagine dee pulling that one off. but maybe one day she does. dees gentler around the edges, and she gets butterflies when talking to women, but she never gags. charlie’s a terrible wingman but he keeps convincing dee to let him try. she brings a girl home for the first time and charlie all but backflips in an empty pool that day. they’re still shithats but they’re learning to let that go. people can get better. AA would probably help.

iv gone too far goodbye

#chardee #charlie kelly #dee reynolds #maybe this is sort of #meta #ramblings #headcanon #rape ment #im so sorry this was not wat u askd for flnsjkfgh #anon #ask

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hxlgapataki · 7 years ago

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HEY ARNOLD FANFICTION REC LIST

September 2017: I’m moving my HUGE rec list onto this account. I CONSTANTLY AM UPDATING THIS POST WITH NEW RECS BTW JUST TO KEEP THINGS IN ORDER.

September 25 2015: Recently I’ve been getting back into Hey Arnold! (again…) and with all the hype about Nick dropping some heavy clues that our long wait for the jungle movie or just any news at all for the ending we all know Hey Arnold! Needs and deserves well I couldn’t help it but get back to reading fanfiction again!Now now … lately I’ve been complaining a lot about the bad fanfiction I’ve been reading and how little rec lists there are since the fandom is sorta tiny so I decided to make a rec list of fanfictions that won’t make you wanna cringe!So I might as well get this one out of the way, since most of the fandom has read it and it’s one of those “fanfiction the entire fandom knows about” but I’m sure there’s a few people here and there that haven’t read it and the story is of course, the amazing,

Ribbons/Hair/Never/There by Heidi Patacki

Helga and Arnold meet at Eugene's wedding, ten years after the cruel circumstances that split them apart. Helga reveals a secret, and its not what you may think.

Tutoring Arnold by Azure129

Oh no-it seems Arnold needs a little help with his poetry assignment if he wants a decent grade in English!Hmm, I wonder what fourth grade poet laurete Mr.Simmons could assign to help him out...Set postconfession to make things even more fun

Learning to be Helga by Azure 129

What could be more amusing than taking two hundred thousand words to make Arnold realize he loves Helga? Taking EIGHT hundred thousand words to explore in detail how this newfound relationship is working out! Sequel to Tutoring Arnold! Let's do this!

Christmas in Brooklyn by Heidi Patacki

" ... She was still Helga and he was still Arnold: the enemies, the lovers, the eternal paradox..."

Let me be your hero by AiraChica

When a girl is known for being strong, it can tear her apart to be looked at with pity. Helga Pataki, an 18 year old girl, had a part of herself stolen from her one night and ever since then, she lost herself. She was ready to give her life up, until someone reached a helping hand out for her. Arnold wouldn't let her fall, especially not when someone else was going down with her.

Dropped the ball by Luvtowritefics247

Helga figured that Arnold was drunk enough to not remember anything, and she was drunk enough to think it was a good idea. But she'll soon find out that what they'd done that night isn't going to be a secret for long. Very Slight AU.

The swing of things by Luvtowritefics247

Arnold can't decide which is harder: Raising a baby or figuring out his feelings for Helga. Sequel to Dropped the Ball.

Let’s be ‘friends’ by StarvingWriterMaeve

He brought it up first. Just because she was hopelessly in love with Arnold didn't mean she'd risk any chance of being exposed. She'd never suggest something as crazy as being Friends With Benefits. Oh, no, this was all his fault because he brought it up first.

Love is like a baseball bat by StarvingWriterMaeve

Love is like a baseball bat. It's used as a weapon if needed. It's something you hold close to you, something to be used with all of your strength. You have to fight to get a decent swing, just like the good relationships are worth fighting for

Blue Oceans by Jae B

A journey through time reveals the trials and tribulations of an unlikely couple.

The pink ribbon that he untied by Pyrex Shards

"You do nothing." Helga whimpered to herself. "You sit and watch, and you, and, you let him go. Cause there's, nothing you can do."

Arnold’s couch confessions by DarthRoden76

Dr. Bliss receives a new patient. My sequel to the Hey Arnold! Episode Helga On The Couch. This time, it's Arnold's turn to talk! Enjoy!

A Letter For Helga by Otter

Teenage Helga gets a letter from a long lost friend.

July 25 2016:

I said a few days but it’s actually been months…

Anyway this is probably the longest fanfic rec list yet

I’ve read A LOT of fanfiction since the last list and I want to share the gems I’ve found with ya’ll

Some of these are incomplete and some are ongoing, basically if it’s been over a year since the last update I will mark it as INCOMPLETE.

Instead of me getting all crazy over how much I love these fics like I did the first time, I will be posting the original summary. This list will be long and I will probably repeat myself since I do love all these fics.

Salted Nut Rolls by Commander

It would be a daunting enough task to tutor the weird girl with the bizarre hair and bizarre fashion sense even if you had never actually met her. It was downright scary to tutor that girl and know that, at least once, she had been in love with you. A/H

The Broken Locket by DarthRoden76 INCOMPLETE

Arnold begins to see the real Helga in his dreams and starts to wonder about his arch nemesis.

Not Exactly the Ugly duckling by Pillow Bosom

4 years after graduation, everybody else has moved on, but Helga is still waiting for something to happen to her.

It’s a deal by stagetrinity

Arnold and Helga make a deal: If she can help him get a date with the girl of his dreams by coaching him in romance, then he has to accompany her to formal dinner as her date. However, a lot can change in two months time. Will Helga be able to handle helping Arnold woo another woman? And if Arnold does get what he wants, will he still want what he gets?

Cocoon by CMW2

Senior Year of High School: Helga loves Arnold. Arnold loves Helga. Lila wants Arnold and will do anything to have him. And that’s all before the school year even starts!

Arnold Loves Helga by SuprSingr

What would happen if Helga had never erased her name from the wall in the episode “Arnold and Lila”?

Escalating Love by NintedoGal55 INCOMPLETE

The sequel to “Arnold Loves Helga”. What will happen in particular episodes now that Arnold and Helga have been on a date? The answers are here in this new reality.

Road Trip by Broken Nintendo

While on a road trip to Vancouver with Gerald, Phoebe and Arnold, Helga decides to torment Arnold during the trip but what happens when things heats up…could things change their normal relationship into something more?

A Sure Thing by Zero to Hero INCOMPLETE

In a moment of irrational thinking, Arnold agrees to let Helga help him get Lila to fall for him. However, he soon learns the hard way the nothing is ever a sure thing.

Blackmail Toy by AiraSora

Helga had always made it her personal mission to keep her love for Arnold a secret. She’d never ever thought that someone would overhear her monologging about him! And this guy was ready to demand absolutely awkward, terrifying and embarrassing things from Helga in exchange for not telling her secret to anyone.

Dependents by Pillow Bosom ONGOING LAST UPDATED APRIL 22 2016

Always prideful, Helga is loathe to ask for help, especially from the person who makes her feel so vulnerable… but it’s about more than just her…

Sixteen Awakening by NintendoGal55

At sixteen, while on an extended visit in Hillwood, Arnold not only reconnects with his friends and old times, but also, having to battle his ongoing sexual desires regarding Helga. As for Helga, she too is facing the same struggle.

Alter ego by AiraSora

Most people would argue that Arnold is a saint of nature. Lady Luck is not always on his side though and one day, while playing baseball, he hits the ball so hard it flies through the window to Madame Blanche’s store. The gypsy does not take it lightly and puts a curse on him. Soon he starts acting weird around his peers; especially around a certain blonde girl.

Learn to Fly by Mouse9

“Well maybe not your complete soul but definitely part of it. If you’re willing to bare your body to me, it’s only fair I get to see part of your soul too.”

Disease by MoonlightMask

He was sick, he had to be. How else could he explain the fire inside him every time she smirked at him or teased him, this constant need to defeat her? Ever since that kiss on the rofftop it was like something inside him snapped, she occupied his every thought, consumed him even in his dreams. He didn’t know who he was anymore and it was all her fault.

The Love Note by SilveryMoons

When Arnold is dared to write a fake love note to Helga, things get a bit hectic. More like a lot hectic. Can he stop things from going further than he expected?

Trying by LeSkuh INCOMPLETE

Fate, in the form of Arnold, collapses onto a twenty-five year old Helga G. Pataki’s front step as she runs late for work one fine summer’s day - effectively turning her life upside down and then stomping on it for good measure.

The Perks of Being Roommates by AiraSora

When Helga came home one night after a party, she thought that Arnold was in pain because of the whimpering noises coming from his bedroom. What she discovered when she barged in, left her in complete shock and… fascination?

Boring by AiraSora

“You’re bored with her, aren’t you?” the strange girl asked me. I wanted to tell her that Lila was perfect for me. I had fought for her attention for years and now she was finally my girlfriend, but it felt like I was still trying to win her heart. Something was missing and that something could be this excitement I felt whenever I looked in the blue eyes of this strange girl.

Bad Behavior by AiraSora

“I told you I was trouble with my bad behavior.” he said to me as he pushed me up against the wall, claiming my lips in a breathtaking kiss. I, Helga G. Pataki, has officially fallen for a bad boy, something I thought I was too smart to ever do. He is sugar-coated misery, a devil in disguise and a snake with green eyes. I guess it’s karma… I have bad behavior too.

Blind Date by shieldmaiden5678

Arnold and Helga are set up on a blind date by their best friends in an attempt to get them out of their depression. After not speaking to each other for nearly two years, old wounds are reopened and secrets are revealed on a night neither will forget.

You let her go by PreselyRox

Gerald never understood the appeal of Helga until age 19. He should have felt bad for sleeping with his ex’s best friend/best friend’s ex-girlfriend, but he didn’t. He always knew he’d never be her happy ending, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Ask Geraldine by Kat Doll INCOMPLETE

After FTi Helga confesses her love to Arnold, who sadly doesn’t feel the same way. Now Arnold is running Hillwood High’s newspaper, and dating Lila. As an act of revenge, Helga becomes the mysterious advice columnist ‘Geraldine.’

Arnold’s Darkest Day by tear of the sun girl

“Have you ever watched someone die? It’s awful I have watched her die so many times if I do one more time I won’t survive” Arnold is stuck in the same day and no matter what he does it keeps repeating. Can he make it stop? Can he change the future?

Heart Shaped Box by Reinamy

In which Helga G. Pataki gets stuck in an elevator with the last person she ever wanted to be in close quarters with. Her life, ladies and gentlemen.

Spanish 2 Was All For You by Polkahotness

Spanish 2 with Arnold was fun until a class presentation changes everything. When he leaves to chase his dreams & find his parents in the middle of the San Lorenzo jungle, it’s Helga who is left behind with the secret she was never able to tell. But will a surprising video call from Arnold months later change her life forever?

The Art of Losing by Ardent Ly

She gave up her boots, her closet, her childhood, and ultimately, her heart – so, it only made sense that she should be the one to give this up, too. Never underestimate a woman in love.

Please don’t forget me by gardenOfeden777

the best night of both of their lives become the most tragic and ironic as Arnold pops the big question but after getting hit by a drunk driver he forgets his love for Helga. He remembers how much he hated Helga and how much Helga hated him. Will Helga have to start from square one or will his memory come back? would she have to give up the only thing she cares about most?

Home cooking by Otter

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. But Helga can’t cook. Or can she? Take one cup comedy, add a spoonful of drama, and a dash of romance. Then overheat like Helga’s imagination!

Crazy for you by Poison Ivory

Helga and Arnold are reunited at Phoebe and Gerald’s wedding, and neither of them are talking about what happened between them. But what did happen?

Jealousy by Janette-Chentel

The Gang’s older, and Arnie’s back, but he’s not the same geek he was 8 years ago. Can Arnold contain his jealousy when Arnie turns his attentions to Helga?

Turn On The Lights by LittleXio INCOMPLETE

“I’ve never felt sorry for you, Helga. And no one ever should.” Helga’s life has never been easy, but at the peak of her high school completion, she suddenly finds herself homeless and with less friends than fingers. Can she save herself and make her dreams come true?

Rain by xconfundedx

“For her, it marked the day she lost her inspiration and stopped writing. Her entire worldview and every dream she ever had were on a plane the next day.”

Rooftop Confessions by SuprSingr

What the heck are Arnold and Helga doing on top of a building AGAIN?

The Turntables by whatsamatta

A chance encounter at a record store? Some things never change.

One for the Road by whatsamatta

Helga takes Arnold on a road trip neither will soon forget. Sequel to The Turntables.

Studying on more important things by BrokenNintendo

A smile came to his face, and he said nothing, just continued to admire her, how beautiful and soft she was, in the afterglow of pleasure. “I guess studying on more important things was worth it, huh?”

Up in the Air by PreselyRox

After Helga witnesses her fiancé killing someone she goes to police and discovers just how little she knew about him. He is connected to the biggest crime ring in the East Coast. After giving her statement she learns she must go under police protection and is shocked when she finds out the FBI agent assigned to protect her is her old crush, Arnold Shortman.

Saturday Night by Avery Greyson

Helga takes in Arnold after he’s had a few too many drinks.

Helga’s Problem by darkdork13 INCOMPLETE

When Helga sees Bob slap Miriam late one night, she runs away and finds herself on Arnold’s doorstep. Her emotions are running too high to keep under wraps, and Arnold begins to see another side of Helga that he never thought existed.

Dreams of Blue Skies by BunniGirl INCOMPLETE

Helga snaps after she sees various things in her life go wrong, grades, family, friends, and her love. She sees the only way out after one night. Will someone save her before it was too late?

Breaking point by Luvtowritefics247

Because their sexual tension could only remain unresolved for so long; something was always bound to happen.

In the summertime by AiraSora

The first time I saw her, she was naked. The first time I met her, she recognized me. The first time she kissed me was the first time I was kissed at all. This girl would change my summer and I knew it from the moment my eyes met hers. There exists many bad ways of meeting the girl of your dreams, but the way I met Helga Geraldine Pataki takes the cake.

To the fire escape and beyond by Polkahotness

After years of confusion and hiding her feelings from Arnold, Helga has finally become the object of Arnold’s affections. The catch? Nobody knows, and they intend to keep it that way- at least for now. But will an unexpected school group project prove to be their secret’s undoing?

I am yours by RedGem270

Arnold gets amnesia after getting hit on the head. He mistakes Helga as his girlfriend, but after two days does Arnold really have amnesia or is it a trick of the mind?

Coffee by Writer25

I spent more than five years trying to forget the greatest heartbreak of my life. I grew up, moved in with Olga, and tried to figure out what I was going to do with my life. So of all the coffee shops in the city, why did he have to come to mine?

Life is Short by starfiction123 ONGOING

Many have different perspectives on how life is defined. Some would say lovely, complicated, treacherous, passionate even. But whether the thoughts be pleasant, cherishing its value, or bitter enduring its harsh realities, from my experience I’ve found this fact to be true…that life is short. So my story begins…

Ardent by EmmyDana

Since Arnold had stayed in San Lorenzo six years ago, sixteen-year-old Helga always sleep walked to the boarding house and slept in his bed, hoping she’d wake up next to him. She didn’t expect one morning to actually wake up to her very beloved next to her.

Words I couldn’t say by Arnold’s Love ONGOING

You can grow up, you can move on, you can even move away and start over, but somehow the things you left in the past have a way of catching up with you…

My Fair Pataki by stagetrinity INCOMPLETE

Arnold volunteers to Stage Manager the school play "My Fair Lady” in order to get an extra activity for college apps. However, working under Helga as acting director isn’t the best job one could ask for. But Arnold has an escape - his online IM partner. But when he discovers the blogs owner, adjusting to what he sees against what he reads can be hard. Which version to believe?

Lucky shot by NerdilyNi INCOMPLETE

Arnold, now 17, has always been left wondering who Cecile was. So when an odd girl who knows who Cecile is moves into the Sunset Arms, Arnold might finally get some answers. At least, as long as his new found feelings for Helga don’t get in the way.

Kissing the lipless by Let Love In INCOMPLETE

After receiving news that her grandpa Robert has died, Helga learns that he left her his house in Hilwood. She moves back only to find that her repressed memories are waiting for her

The Break-up by MuffinLove03

Somewhere Along the way by Pink Lychee

Arnold was never sure what it was exactly that made him fall for Helga. As he retraced every possible memory of her, he couldn’t choose only one reason.

Sex-ed by NeuroticBanana

Helga and Arnold are stuck in Anatomy class discussing sex ed. Things get awkward when the instructor makes everyone put condoms on bananas and the class gets a little rowdy. Time for confession perhaps, Helga?

I thought you liked redheads by LycoRouge

Everyone is dying their hair lately and getting a lot of attention for it. Should Helga cave and dye her hair too? Will that get the attention she craves from Arnold?

Victoria’s Secret by StarvingWriterMeave INCOMPLETE

Helga’s much more than the nine year old 'It Girl’.

Things that are True by YuniX-2

He’d sort of already known what was coming, truth be told, when he questioned Helga on the roof of FTi. But then again, he hadn’t really known at all. Some puzzles are too preposterous to solve on ones own.

I 'Hate’ YOU too! By Azure129

What maybe happened after Helga ran off into the sunset after her confession? And more importantly what the heck happened to TJM?

Sweet Hostility by Twelvepercent

Arnold reacts out of character as he feels the need to defend the girl he cares for the most. It’s rated T for violence and adult content.

Harder than you think by SuprSingr

Being dense is hard work.

FTi Aftermath by NintendoGal55

Arnold reflects his feelings about what had happened on the fated day upon the FTi rooftop. After some pretty good advice, and taking the time to think it all over, he decides to get it all out and have a good talk with Helga about it.

Avalanche by Pointy Objects ONGOING

“I don’t think I’m that good of a liar.” “I think you are.” “Well, I did convince you I wasn’t in love with you for nine years…”

Things fall apart by sweet.aria INCOMPLETE

In the aftermath of her dramatic confession, Helga begins to withdraw.

RNLD by NinentedoGal55 INCOMPLETE

Based on the adorable Disney & Pixar movie WALL-E, follow along with our hero, the lovable and curious Arnold as he goes from his life as a trash collector, to find out what he is truly meant for upon meeting the beautiful search scout Helga.

The surprise by twilightfucker

“You’ve been in love with me since we were three and treated me like shit ever since. I let you because I knew deep down you didn’t mean it.” When the confrontation comes it is not planned and what occurs is a surprise to all.

July 27 2017:

ALRIGHTY GUYS TIME TO UPDATE THE LIST! I WILL BE UPDATING THIS SPECIFIC POST FROM NOW ON TO KEEP THIS IN ORDER ON A SINGLE POST.

Missing by Missie2

Five years after Helga G. Pataki vanished, presumably murdered, her ghost pops up in Arnold's house to take care of some unfinished business.

I Can Still Hear You by Hannahmc15

Arnold had always had a strange ability- the ability to hear Helga, even if she wasn't around. Years later, he can still hear her, but now it haunts him. If she is dead, how can he still hear her?

The Club by Polkahottness

I never thought life without Olga would cause so many problems for me. After all, out of everybody I knew, I was probably the only one with just cause enough to want her gone. But now that she was, everything was up in the air, including my relationship with Arnold. Could a view from Mighty Pete shed light on what I'd lost? Or help me lose Arnold forever?

Slam by Smarty0007

Helga is a slam poet. Arnold is a musician. What happens when the two collide?

Lovely Misandry by Airasora

Being in love for the first time is never easy, but to Arnold, it's downright torment. Not only has he been in love with her his whole life, not only is she his best friend; she hates and distrusts men with her entire being. He is the only exception, but how much of an exception is he really? Can he win over the girl whose heart has turned to stone by the men in her life?

Keeping Arnold:Or, How to Get Disowned by Lachesism

After ten long years in San Lorenzo, Arnold suddenly returns to Hillwood, throwing Helga's world into chaos irreversibly. Gerald and Phoebe start acting suspicious about his return; what secrets does he bring with him, and what does it mean for Helga? Can she get him to stay? Does she want him to stay? And how does Lila, mysteriously absent for years, factor into his return?

Ever After by Mouse9

The hottest thing on television is a teen drama called "Ever After". It's fresh, it's raw, and it's popular in the Shortman household. The problem is, the story might be a little less fiction and a little more family history.

Never After by Mouse9

The episode is called "Homecoming" It's a story that needed to be told. The second in the "Ever After" Series.

Discovery by Devoosha

A Hey Arnold fan fiction with the kids in 5th grade and beyond. The lead up to the events in The Jungle Movie and what is my version of the Jungle Movie and what happens after.

The Sweet Hereafter by Lord Malachite

A journey of selfdiscovery for Helga as she discovers who she is, with a little help from a certain Football Headed young boy.

Clean by American HOT Fender

After waking up in the hospital, a 26 year old Helga lands herself in rehab for drug and alcohol abuse. Bob wants her cleaned up but while she's there, Gerald begins to dig into the past and brings out a skeleton in her closet that has haunted them both. And what exactly does all of this have to do with Arnold anyway?

I’ll Even Give Her Mine by apychopathsutopia

"So... Arnold had cheated on his girlfriend. My man Arnold. Cheated. On his girlfriend. But it was the way that he said it that really interested me: he just said it. It was a statement to him, not a confession, or a heart-wrenching admission of guilt. He said it the same way he'd tell me he was out of sugar."

All I Can Do by Smarty0007

Collection of events that eventually culminates in an understanding. And boy, does it take forever.

The Ant by Call Me Nettie

Just a quickie, a little bit more than a drabble but much less than a story. Hope you like it.

Lila Likes Helga by EVILinnocence666

Why Lila only likes Arnold and doesn't like-like him.

Kidnapping, Match-Making, & Everything-in-Between by theps118confessional

Helga Pataki- 26, now settled in almost every sense of the word: a steady job, a kid and a house- kind of, really doesn't think she qualifies as certifiably crazy anymore. That is- until she kidnaps Arnold Shortman's children. By accident. Sort of.

Leaves, Missed Signs, and the Incorrigible Effects of Time by theps118confessional

Arnold left. Arnold came back. Arnold didn't change at all. Everything else did. Helga hadn't physically hit someone in years, but God, did she want to punch him in the face.

Smoke On The Water by AiraSora

Trouble always seemed to find Arnold, especially if that trouble was Helga Pataki. After a fierce mud fight at a school trip, Arnold was forced to head back to shower. Helga was also left behind in order to change so when the rusty pipes gave out and left Arnold blind with his own shampoo who else could save him than the girl who had put him in this predicament to begin with?

Roadside Girl by AiraSora

Acting had in many ways been one of Helga's many skills. Arnold hadn't expected her to give a shot at a career in it though thereby leaving Hillwood to study abroad just when he had started to grow feelings for her. That smidge of love has turned into bitter resentment, so when the play Helga is cast in as the heroine is falling apart, can Arnold ignore the past pain and save it?

What Are The Odds by American HOT Fender

"-My leg is killing me!" She howled, "Crimeny it hurts!" At that, the young man paused and squinted very closely at his victim. "H-Helga?" He asked. Helga pried her eyes open and stared at him with a furrowed scowl, "Football head!" She barked. Of course! Who else would bowl her over but Arnold Shortman! Arnold freakin' Shortman.

The Elevator by American HOT Fender

It certainly wasn't how Helga Shortman had planned to spend her day. Trapped in an 8x7 space with her soon to be ex-husband. 1 elevator, 2 people, 6 hours. Will they kill each other or rekindle their love?

Oh, I Can’t Take Another Heartache by MellyTheHun

As Arnold begins his biggest adventure - growing up - he finds that the things he used to find easy and simple become more and more complicated and the people he used to have certain slots for in life... well, maybe they just don't fit in easily definable boxes the way he always thought. It's hard to tell if the world is getting bigger, or if he's just feeling, hearing and seeing more of it than before.

I Do My Best To Understand, Dear, But You Still Mystify by MellyTheHun

Puberty takes a physical and hormonal toll on our favorite Hillwood hero while he tries desperately to take control of his life, afraid that he is not the one holding the reigns.

Five Kisses by Commander

Shakespeare's original version of Romeo and Juliet has FIVE kisses? Helga's totally getting gypped! ...Or is she? "School Play" inspired two-shot.

2K notes · View notes

apathetic-revenant · 7 years ago

Note

Consider this ask as a request to get that rant on Roadside Attraction STARTED!

Hoo boy.

Okay, first of all, I sincerely apologize for leaving this unanswered so long. Things…happened.

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched Roadside Attraction in a while so I might be slightly misremembering some of it. (It’d probably be a good idea to rewatch it first, but honestly just writing all this has got me riled up enough already. (look emotions are hard okay)

Disclaimer 2: I critique because I love, I swear.

So when it comes down to it, I guess my problems with RA basically boil down to two big things:

1. The overall ‘message’ and how it treats the characters.

2. The weirdness of it existing at that point in the show in the first place.

First things first: look, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for media messages about not being a skeevy jerk and treating women as objects, but the way it was done in this episode was, honestly, just…weird. It basically introduces a character trait for Dipper (and, to a lesser extent, Stan; I mean I know Stan is…Stan, but did anyone really get ‘sleazy pickup artist’ as the vibe from any of his interactions with women that we saw before this episode?) that he was never shown to remotely have before or after (though admittedly there’s not a lot of ‘after’ to begin with), just so he could be taught a lesson about it that he never should have needed in the first place.

Dipper’s problem has always been that’s he’s obsessed with one girl, and he certainly got plenty of embarrassment and woe out of that general experience, but ultimately that was good for him: he loosened up (somewhat), became more understanding and accepting of Wendy’s autonomy, and moved towards being able to deal with rejection while still being friends with her. That’s a satisfying arc and it makes no sense to me that they would suddenly partway reverse it and then use that as a reason to try and take Dipper down this weird incredibly short character arc that he didn’t need.

Is it realistic that you don’t just immediately get over someone even if intellectually accept that you’re not going to be together? Absolutely. But frankly, this is a weirdass time for Gravity Falls to be invoking realism. And regardless, realism does not automatically make for a better story, especially when that story has to be told in 22 minute intervals.

So it’s already weird that the show is portraying Dipper that way, but then what he does is really not all that heinous to begin with. The thing is, Stan is right. Dipper does need practice talking to-well, everyone, really, but especially girls. For God’s sake, the poor guy needed a massively oversized list, a bunch of clones, and a Rube Goldberg-esque plot just to ask Wendy to dance with him, a task he ultimately failed at anyway. (Which, honestly, even aside from intent, makes the whole idea of him successfully managing to actually lead any girls on to any degree pretty dang unbelievable.) And that’s really all he does with any of them, is talk. He doesn’t promise them anything except maybe to stay in touch, which we don’t really have any evidence he wasn’t planning on doing. Hell, even Stan, for all that we’re supposed to see his behavior as Not Good (which, to be fair, it usually is) doesn’t really do anything more than flirt with an apparently receptive woman and then take a walk with her, which is honestly way more honorable than most of Stan’s interactions with people. We’ve certainly seen him treat people way worse than that without getting condemned for it.

And then there’s the whole thing with Candy, which is…really frustrating. She puts Dipper in a situation he’s very, very obviously not comfortable with, demands something of him he never gave her an indication that he was interested in, and then when she doesn’t get what she wants…he has to apologize to her? By ‘admitting’ that he was being an idiot? What?

Like, I know they were going for ‘don’t be a pickup artist’, basically, but what it came off as was more like ‘never interact with women because if you do they’ll immediately start acting like you’re in a relationship with them and expect you to act the same way and sometimes they might do that even if you don’t interact with them (also sometimes they might turn out to be spider women who will eat you)’.

Basically, any time you set out to give the message ‘treat women with respect’ and instead wind up with ‘women are strange, irrational and sometimes horrifying’, I think you’ve really got to step back and reconsider things for a minute.

But what’s especially weird to me is the contrast between this and the way the show treats Mabel’s behavior. Mabel’s been spending pretty much the whole show doing what this episode punishes Dipper for doing. We see her hitting on three boys in rapid succession within the first ten minutes of the show, her desire for a relationship and rather aggressive pursuit of that is the formation of a lot of plots during the show, and she’s only called on it when it gets to the point of hurting her friendships or literally imprisoning boys in her room.

I mean, I’m not trying to pick on Mabel here, or say that the show should have been calling her on that except when it got extreme (like, say, literally imprisoning boys in her room), at which point the show did call her on it. But it’s weird to me that the show then goes out of its way to condemn Dipper for doing basically the same thing except to a lesser degree. I guess you could argue that Mabel was looking for a relationship and Dipper was looking for ‘practice’, but that still doesn’t really work for me; in both instances they have a goal in mind for which the specific other person involved is basically a variable. Why is Mabel wanting an Epic Summer Romance with more or less any boy worse than Dipper wanting to just talk to more or less any girl? And at any rate, Dipper’s attitude in RA hardly seems any worse towards the girls than the attitude Mabel, Grenda and Candy went into the Northwest party with towards the boys, but we’re supposed to take one as being terrible and the other as being perfectly normal girl behavior.

So yeah, there’s that. Now, part two. (Still with me?)

The pacing. This episode makes absolutely no sense to me where it is. You spend 3/4s of the show building up to this big reveal that completely alters the atmosphere, plot, and character dynamics, and now you have all of five episodes to explore all the ramifications of that while ramping up the tension towards the big finale…why would you make one of those a filler episode that has no impact on the plot at all and is so disconnected to anything that it could have been stuck pretty much anywhere else in the show without next to no changes?

Like, okay, I’ll admit, part of why I don’t like this episode is because it doesn’t have Ford in it. And hey, that’s a personal thing. But it’s not just about me wanting MOAR FORD. The thing is, regardless of whether you like him or loathe him or whatever, Ford is, objectively, an incredibly important character. He’s the catalyst for the central plot and driving mystery of the show and the principle catalyst for the oncoming confrontation, his appearance changes pretty much everything that we took for granted about the show before, and just by existing he has a huge impact directly on Stan and Dipper and indirectly on Mabel (in that his interactions with Dipper in turn impact Mabel’s relationship with him). And, again, you have five episodes to explore all this. In one of them Ford’s barely there at all and then in this one he doesn’t even get mentioned. We don’t even get an explanation for why he’s suddenly absent. (I know we do in the Journal, but not in the show itself.) I just…that doesn’t make any sense to me. I mean, maybe I’m showing favoritism here, but-no offense to Candy-I really don’t get why she gets more character focus in this episode than, y’know. The long-lost close family member with massive unresolved issues and a huge amount of secrets.

And it doesn’t make any sense to me to have a light-hearted filler episode with nothing to do with the plot so very close to the finale when the tension is so high and the last episode literally ended with a very ominous threat. It certainly doesn’t make sense in plot terms that they spent so much time last episode working to protect the Shack so they had a sanctuary from Bill, and then everyone runs away from the Shack. I just. What.

And, this is a lesser point, but it doesn’t really make sense to me for them to leave Gravity Falls itself at that point in the show. Just, sure, we know weird stuff exists in plenty of other places, but there’s a lot of focus on there being something especially weird and significant about Gravity Falls specifically. And that’s something that gets really dialed up in this last part of the show-Ford specifically seeking the town out to study, the significance of the Mystery Shack and all its secrets, the connection Bill has to the area, the crashed UFO, and of course it all builds up to a big plot point in the finale that Bill’s confined to Gravity Falls. But then right smack in the middle of all that we briefly detour to some pretty much unrelated location for…what reason? It’s like MYSTERY OF GRAVITY FALLS MYSTERY OF GRAVITY FALLS MYSTERY OF GRAVITY FALLS oh by the way there’s some spider people over here too MYSTERY OF GRAVITY FALLS. It’s not a huge deal but it feels weird to me, especially since the show had hardly been going on so long that that they had worn out the setting.

I know I’m committing the great sin of claiming to know better than the writers, but since we’ve come this far anyway, you know what I think would have worked better than Roadside Attraction?

You’ve already got this idea of the other tourist trap owners annually pranking Stan, so why not just go with that? Have them come to him like they apparently usually do. That way:

-You can keep the focus on Gravity Falls and all the plot points therein.

-You don’t have the problem of everyone inexplicably leaving their sanctuary; in fact, that adds to the plot, because now they have even more motivation to protect the Mystery Shack.

-You’ve got a lot of opportunity for character interplay as the family has to deal with all this (imagine the opportunity for conflict between Ford and Stan over the house, and how much you could build up the oncoming tension of Stan having to leave the Shack by showing how much he had really made it his home over the years).

-You can still hint at the existence of weirdness outside Gravity Falls without taking the focus away from it.

-You could expand on Stan’s past a little-because God knows we all wanted it-by referencing what was going on with him and these other rivals for all these years, and show a bit more about how the Shack actually operates as a tourist trap, which I, at least, would have liked to see.

-You could continue the ongoing character arc of Dipper’s relationship with Ford and how that was impacting his relationship with Mabel, instead of dropping it for something completely out of the blue.

-You could still have a bit of a breather episode before the finale (since that was evidently the reason we got this one here in the first place) without having to completely drop the plot and derail all the building tension to do so.

-Tell me you wouldn’t want to see a full-scale Pines family prank war unleashed, because I sure as hell would.

But anyway, in conclusion:

I don’t like Roadside Attraction much.

#asks #gravity falls #long #seriously though I wouldn't put this much thought into it if I didn't love the show #man that did take a while though didn't it

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