#unfortunately I haven't finished chapter 2 yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cursedcola · 1 year ago

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference

Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.

The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.

For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.

Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.

Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?

When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.

He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.

Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.

It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.

Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.

Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.

Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.

You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?

Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.

He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?

"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"

White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!

He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.

Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.

Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.

Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.

You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.

After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.

Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.

The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.

There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.

Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?

These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.

Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees

"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:

It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.

Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.

You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.

"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough

With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.

He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.

He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.

In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.

He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...

Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.

Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.

That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.

"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"

Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.

He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.

Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.

He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...

In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.

His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.

You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.

Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable

He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?

For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.

Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?

Well....shit (pleasant connotation)

He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.

It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.

Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.

You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.

Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.

He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.

Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...

Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.

"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.

"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.

"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"

{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}

{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twst idia #IM DEAD #THIS TOOK FOUR HOURS #I LEGIT WAS NOT PLANNING TO WRITE ALL THIS #MY HANDS

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 months ago

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Fragments Pt. 2/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Ch. 2: Lab Rat

Summary: Unfortunately Homelander's powers reawake earlier than his memory of how to control them.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of HL's past, PTSD, DID, cussing, blood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, death of animals

A/N: as a little treat for you guys, this chapter got extra long (: tbh I still haven't watched the show, let me live

The following weeks passed by rather quick and uneventful - albeit it wouldn't calm down your nerves at all.

You had been on high alert for a while, fearing the worst case scenario: That whoever did this to John would come and finish the job. It did not happen in the end, so the enemy either believes him to be dead already, or was certain the lethal environment would do the rest.

What worried you right now however was the fact that nobody seemed to be searching for your acquaintance.

Locals would come to deliver supplies occasionally, and at some point you handed them a USB with a photo and the little data you knew about John. Hopefully the old - and only - shared computer in the townshall had a good enough internet connection to spread the missing person report for as many people as possible to see.

John had been joking a lot recently, about how he might've been a terrible person and people would be glad that he disappeared - but you knew deep down, he feared there might actually be some truth in his words.

One thing was sure: He could be irritating to a point where one wants to punch his pretty face in - and he's not even aware of that fact.

Over time, you noticed a lot of subtle hints to his former personality: Like his almost neurotic need for praise and attention. It seemed like he didn't even know how to simply exist by himself - for example, sometimes you came home from an expedition, and he just sat at the same spot you've left him, awaiting you almost a little too excited.

To his defense, it was hard to avoid each other in a single-room apartment. And since you had brought only the most essential things for your survival, there wasn't really that much to do either way.

Most of the day he'd follow you around, insisting that he wanted to be useful despite his condition. He was touchy - not in an indecent way, but rather starved for closeness. Always accidentally brushing his hand against yours, leaning his chin atop of your head or hugging you if he was feeling particulary happy about something.

And while hesistant at the beginning, the more you tolerated it the more he dared.

Also, his almost nonexistent empathy and lack of emotional maturity in general was infuriating. You really felt like talking to a giant toddler sometimes -but as odd as it sounds, he reacted to your scolding and listened to instructions surprisingly well.

And oh, he sure loves the sound of his own voice. His opinions unnerved you to no end, yet the way he was talking about certain topics sounded awfully like he was just repeating things someone else had drilled him to believe, without ever understanding or even caring enough to verify.

You really wondered what kind of life John had led before all of this.

Curiosity kills the cat, or so they say.

A doctor had already arrived at your remote location two days after the initial snowstorm had settled. He had complimented you for properly caring for the wounds despite your limited knowledge and ressources, and John gladly joined him in enskying you.

Since then, there wasn't much more to do than continuing treatment until his wounds would heal - which they did surprisingly fast, much to your mutual relief.

The drug John inhaled had eliminated a great portion of the Compound V in his system, but not completely. And as you could now observe first hand, the residue was able to multiply again.

That could only mean the rest of his powers would slowly but steadily return as well, right?

"NO! It burns, it burns please STOP!"

John's desolate scream made you bolt up from your sleep, instantly rushing to his side. He was experiencing nightmares very frequently, and after the past couple of tries to wake him up, you knew better than to touch him.

"John..." you whisper to not startle him, hesistantly approaching the man cowering on his bed. "It's not real. You're dreaming, you're safe. Nothing can hurt you! Follow my voice. Please, wake up..."

He was sobbing frantically, heartbrakingly even. A perfect image of misery, hugging himself in a desperate attempt to erase that awfully vivid sensation of being burned alive.

Whatever had happened to him, the suffering was imprinted so deep inside of his soul that he was forced to relive it even after alledgedly losing all memories.

You repeat the affirmating words like a mantra, tears involuntarily creeping to the rim of your eyes as well. Eventually his breaths would even out and he was able to come down to reality again, recognizing you through wettened lashes.

Shame washed over him, now feeling as if he'd drown rather than burning. He was pathetic, even without this creepy psycho shit already - a nuisance to you who had given him nothing but kindness.

"I'm sorry." His eyes darted around the room - anywhere but your face - but he was certain that you were shooting him that damn pitying look again "Didn't mean to wake you..."

John's voice was hoarse from screaming, his coughing prompting you to hand him the water on the nightstand. "No problem, really. Don't worry about it."

"You're being too naive" he mumbled, his hand lingering on yours for a bit longer than necessary as you handed him the glass. "Nursing a stranger to health...I mean, I could as well be lying about my anmnesia."

"And there I was thinking you had a way with words" you snorted, defendingly crossing your arms in front of your chest. "No offense, but you don't seem like the bright type. Besides: If you wanted to do something awful to me, you had all the time in the world and no witnesses, so..."

Eager to prove your trust, out of a whim you hopped next to him, the springs of the mattress creaking under the additional weight. Until now, despite his protest, you chose to sleep on a very uncomfortable sofa, offering him the bed since he was still not fully restored.

"You're incorrigible..." he sighed, a little taken aback by the sudden invasion of personal space, mentally adding "...but an amazing person."

"I'm not even sure if I want to remember" he tells himself rather than you, mumbling into the pillow. Whenever he tried there was a mental block, some kind of tug in his heart that felt like regaining it would cost him greatly. "Those dreams...I'm terrified to find out what they truly mean."

"Your past only defines you if you let it." Wow, that sounded way less corny in your head. "Whatever happens, you won't get rid of me that easily, I promise."

"Sounds more like a threat" he smirks, daring to shuffle a little closer.

After a while of comfortable silence between the two of you, John was the first one to look away from the ceiling, staring at you instead. He was still shaking, unable to decipher whether the lump in his throat was caused by his night terror or something else.

"...I mean you could stay here." John's voice was barely audible, as if to test your reaction first. "Better than that goddamn brick of a sofa."

You glared at him, eyes shooting daggers. "Next time we're in the field, you get a snowball right into that handsome face." He snickered at your attempt to be strict, his smugness returning already. "Oh, so you think I'm handsome, huh?"

Gosh, that man was obnoxious - and yet, even though you'd rather die than to admit, he made you jittery beyond belief. "That doesn't give you the right to do or say whatever you want, you know?"

"Didn't deny it" he winked, yet raised his hands in defense. "C'mon, I'm not trying something shady. It's just- forget it."

"...talking about incorrigible" you uttered, after looking at him dumbfounded until you finally understood. "If you feel more comfortable this way, then sure."

John nodded mutely, cracking an embarrassed smile that you couldn't help but mirror. You slid under the covers with him, the dimmed lights only worsening this awkward situation.

"Y/N?" You hqd almost dozed off already when you heard his voice again, yet it was too dark to decipher his features. "Mhh?"

"...thank you. For everything, really."

Asides from his healing factor, his heightened senses were the next thing that had returned - and they made him notice things you probably weren't even aware of yourself.

Just like right now.

That mixture of pheromones in your scent, together with an increased heartrate whenever you were close...it was unlike anything he had ever perceived, even without knowing his history he was sure of that fact.

Was this chemical reaction equal to what people called love?

And yet you never acted on those desires, for it would be terribly wrong in every way. The man next to you was in a vulnerable state no one should take advantage of. Not to mention that you didn't really know this person. He could as well be having a partner or family somewhere, and you had no intention to become a homewrecker.

So you continued reminding yourself about his negative aspects, tried to convince yourself that anyone would be feeling like this after being isolated together for so long.

Shit, can't he just hurry up and remember?

Much to your shock, you wake up entangled in both the blanket and John's embrace the next morning. He had an arm and leg wrapped around you, effectively trapping you in his hold.

Instead of freaking out or kicking him off the bed, you decide to simply close your eyes again and enjoy this blissful state. His breathing was warm against your skin, and he also seemed very peaceful in his sleep in huge contrast to usually.

After a few more minutes, his soft snores disappeared. John was confused, never having felt this well-rested in forever.

"Ah shi- I'm sorry-" before he could retract his arm, you held onto it and snuggled even closer against his chest. "Who said you could stop?"

"Oh...oh." he grinned cheekily, jawning as his head nuzzled against your neck. "Well, good morning then."

"You sure this is a good idea?" Turning to look at him, you get some messy strands of hair out of his face. "Coming with me today, I mean."

Up until now, you had avoided taking him to your laboratory, even though the two buildings were connected via a tunnel. Usually he only helped you carry stuff, do the household horribly wrong or assist you collect specimen in the wild.

But for someone who was having nightmares about a strange laboratory to come with you..."just stay here, watch a movie or something. I won't take long."

"Ugh, you don't even have any supe movies that could help me remember" he grimaced, "just some boring woke stuff."

There's no telling what this man thinks sometimes. "You just don't have any taste. Supe movies are brainless cash-cows."

"Nerd" he purrs, leading your hand to his head again, looking at you pleadint to continue massaging his scalp. Ugh, how can someone this unnerving be so great at making you do whatever he wants? "It might not be the best idea, but maybe confrontation will help me make sense out of it."

What's the worse that could happen? You've seen him having a mental breakdown several times now, and you handle it well. "...okay. Just don't complain if I make you work overtime."

"Sure thing, boss."

A quick breakfast and several discussions later, you unlock the door that led to your laboratory. Observing his reaction, you saw how his mannerism had shifted unnaturally even for his standards.

"Why are they caged in here?" You stiffened at his question, at the accusation in his tone. "What, don't tell me Mr. Conversative suddenly became an animal's rights advocate?"

No answer, instead he stared you down even more sombre. "It's not like they're locked in here forever. Climate change makes it harder for them to find food, so I take their measurements for comparison. Some I feed a while longer, and when they're strong enough they're released. I swear!"

"S-Sorry, I- fuck..." He couldn't even put his finger on why this enraged him so much, trying to tear the trapped polar fox away from his field of view.

"Hey..." you wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away from you. "Maybe you should go back, alright?"

Fuck it, you were right, that was a stupid idea - he'll never hear the end of it. John's head was spinning and he felt sick, thinking that maybe he should sit down...

...but when he opened his squinted eyes again, a sheer coincidence would turn out fatal: The heavy steel door, an emergency exit, it was red - looking awfully alike.

"You tricked me" he gritted, logical thinking overshadowed by flashbacks. "Huh?"

"You put me in The Bad Room again!" John's eyes were wild, furious even as he violently shook your smaller frame. "How could you?!"

He then pushed you away, sending you flying and proceeding to run in circles like a coyote in a trap.

"John..." The impact made you dizzy, any yet you tried to stay conscious with all might. "The door's open, you can leave anytime." You made the grave mistake of grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stop in his tracks or at least distract him...

...but he slammed his fist right next to your head, making a huge dent in the wall. "Don't fucking touch me, or I'll fucking kill you!"

It all happened so fast, you couldn't even tell why it went downhill from there - but when you saw his eyes gleaming red, you made a run for it.

Having listened to your gut and fleeing outside, the next thing you knew you were standing in front of a completely destroyed building.

John fell to his knees in between the rubble, covered it blood and viscera of the animals you had formerly kept inside. You inhaled sharply as his eyes found you, fighting against the urge to screech - and yet, he could hear your heart practically hammering against your chest, made out the scent of adrenaline even through the dust and smoke.

John knew that scene all too well, vivid images flashing in front of his inner eye: People running away from him, terrified...and his hands covered in blood, just like right now.

You were afraid of him - and you had every right to be. He was a dangerous freak! No wonder they've kept him locked away somewhere before.

"John!"

Your voice made him snap out of it, screaming your lungs out calling for him. Without second thought you ran straight at him, wrapping your arms around his neck despite your instinct to stay away. "Shit, John, I was worried! Are you hurt?!"

"W-what kind of question is that?!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his face that froze as soon as they dropped to the ground. "Are you dull or just insane, coming back after what you just saw?!"

"But you're the victim here!" He looked at you like a kicked puppy - if the situation wasn't so severe it would certainly be adorable. "I-I'm just glad you're alright."

You sank to the ground too, simply cradling his head against your chest. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..."

"Hey, plea- can't breathe-" The fleeting image of his past, the lifeless body of a woman dropping to his feet flashes before his inner eye, making him finally release you from his suffocating hug.

"Come" you beckon, trying to pull him from the ground but he was too exhausted - mentally at least. He might not be affected by temperature anymore, but it was minus 50 degrees out here. "Let's go home."

Gladly your flat didn't get caught in the impact of John's breakdown, and you managed to seal the broken airlock that had connected the two buildings.

Damn, this laboratory had eaten up all of your savings - and now the whole progress was simply gone. So it was only naturally that after the first shock subsided, it was you who started crying your eyes out. Not in front of him, though - as understandable as your frustration was, he was going through something way worse right now.

The bottom line was: Both your lives were now in ruins, and he was responsible.

This whole day, John wouldn't utter a single word. Instead he shunned himself from you, staying god knows where. As you were looking out of the window before sunset, you saw him just standing there, staring at the horizon. He might not be harmed by the cold, but you were sure he was still able to freeze.

Did all of this at least make him remember something? Maybe that was exactly the problem.

"You can't ignore us forever."

John clenched his fists, looking over to the house and spotting you in the window. You shouldn't be worried for him of all people - hell, you shouldn't be near him at all!

"Heya champ, talk to me."

The voices he was hearing all evening were clearly imaginary. He was probably losing his mind...or he was insane all along, who knows?

All he knew was that he didn't want the answer.

"Oh c'mon, you're even worse than the usual guy!" His reflection on the lake was talking to him in his own voice, finally snapping. "Another sniveling pussy, obsessed with affection. Fucking pathetic."

"What the fuck do you want from me?!" he spat back at himself, or rather a part of him. "Don't you get it? I am you, but stronger - better! I've got us through The Bad Room back then, and I can help you again. You're still fighting to remember...just stop resisting and you can finally become who you're truly meant to be."

There were other, more different versions of his voice, all mixing up in his mind. Some were cussing you out, others mocking himself or drowning in self-pitying...

...and worse ones made him even more afraid of what his twisted mind would be capable of...

"Really?! You care for that bitch? God, what a fucking disappointment. Believe me, she's not the first one that'll abandon you. Eventually, you'll always ruin everything. Just like back then, when you-"

"Silence! Leave me alone!" John was slamming against his own head when you rushed outside, initially wanting to drape a blanket over his shoulders. It took you forever pleading with him to at least talk things through...

...but when he reluctantly aggreed to come inside, the voices made it clear that this wouldn't be the last he had heard of them.

"I will leave" he informed you of his decision, clutching the mug of coffee you had just handed him. Those words made your heart clench, but you always knew it was inevitable. "Why so sudden? And how?"

"Apparently I can fly. Fast." Shit, what powers doesn't he have? That's unusual, even for a supe. "So you got your memories back?"

"Nope" he pops his lips matter-of-factly, looking anywhere but your eyes. "But I think we got enough proof that I'm unstable and should be, I don't know, in an institution or something." You purse your mouth, anxiety raising in the pit of your stomach. "John..."

"Oh don't 'John' me, Y/N! I'm a fucking monster!" That was the first time he had ever raised his voice at you, slamming on the table which he instantly regretted as he saw your doe eyes widen. "S-Sorry, but...I feel like I've been lonely all my life, and for a good reason. What if I use my powers unintentionally, the next time I got a nightmare? What if I hurt you? Shit, Y/N, I could never forgive myself if that happened..."

You choked on a sob, bottom lip trembling as you simultaneously tried to find the right words without crying. "Stop talking about yourself like that. I refuse to belive you'd be able to hurt me."

"But you don't know me! Not really. Hell, I don't even know myself-"

"Oh yes I do!" you cut him off harshly, cupping both sides of his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. "You're many things, but you are not a monster. You are a kind and funny and wonderful man, and you brightened every single one of my days here ever since you stumbled into my life!"

"Y/N-" he wanted to object, but you wouldn't let him. "No matter what happened that you turned out this way, you didn't deserve any of it. If you leave, you need to promise me to never give up on yourself. You deserve to be happy, okay?"

John leaned into your touch, tears long since broken free. "Why do you care so much about someone that caused you nothing but trouble?"

"Because I'm in love with you, damn it!" you blurted out without thinking first. "Does this finally go through your thick skull, or do I need to be even more obvious?!"

That sentence alone was enough for the dam to break.

John kissed you with an urgency that was frightening, as if he needed it more than air. He had pulled you onto his lap, hands demandingly roaming your body, unwilling to ever let go. "Again" he breathed out when your lips parted, "Say it again."

"I think I'm in love with you, John." Oh, he already knew he was addicted. Another kiss, quicker and more playfull this time, smiling against your lips. "One more time."

"I love you, you blockhead!" you declared proudly, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest. And you were not the only one relieved to finally be able to act upon all those pent up emotions.

"Gosh, you have no idea how long I wanted to do this" John admitted almost a little bashful, covering your face in pecks. "I never thought you'd feel the same."

You tasted his tears on your lips, and he wiped yours away with his thumb, looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes, it made you wax in his hands. "I may have planned confess after your memories return, but now..." you pause, rubbing the back of your head as remorse hit you like a train. "I guess we'll have to figure it out as we go."

Yeah, there's truly no going back now. May as well enjoy it while it's lasting.

Another handful of weeks passed since your relationship blossomed, and you secretly hoped his past would never catch up on him again.

Since you had no way of finishing your research without the trashed equipment, it was about time to temporarily give up on this dream.

The two of you already made plans for the futue, had prepared to leave all this behind move back to build a life somewhere. He on the other hand was determined to do whatever it takes to repay and give you the chance to continue your studies...

...that was until shortly before your departure, when you had another unexpected visitor.

John stayed in bed as it was still early morning, admiring you from afar. He did not understand a single word you were exchanging with one of the locals in their native tongue, just hoping no matter what it was about, you would quickly come back into his arms.

A wide, infatuated smile stretched across his face as you briefly locked eyes, staring at him in awe. "What's the matter?" he inquired, noticing how dramatically you slammed the door shut.

"They've- hey!" you couldn't help but laugh as the carefree man pulled you back under the covers with him. "Continue, sweetheart."

"They've brought news from the village." Turning to face him, you indulged in one last kiss, selfishly fearing this would be the last tender moment you shared - way too soon. "People who claim to know who you are."

"Really?!" John softly clutched the sides of your shoulders, shivering ever so slightly. "Wha- who?!"

"A company, I think. Weird. What was the name...Vought?"

Unable to look at him due to your fear of losing him to his former life, you didn't notice his obvious distress, the way his eyes darkened at that cursed name. "They say you're some kind of superhero, just as I thought."

"No wonder with your kind of power, honestly" you continued at his lack of reaction, distracting yourself with a thoughtless banter. "So what, should I call you 'Homelander' from now on?"

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your back, way before the sound of something clashing could reach your ears. You couldn't even fathom what had happened until you grasped the situation: John had you slammed against the wall, his hand firmly wrapped around your throat.

"You fucking normie bitch..." He applied some pressure to your trachea, enough to be uncomfortable but not cutting off your air supply...yet. "Shit! How much time did I waste here?!"

You helplessly kicked with your legs, clawed at his relentless grip on your trachea, but to no avail. "Wha- John-" you stammered but his tone was callous, a manic smile stretching across his face. "Just said it yourself - that's Homelander for you."

A cracking sound filled the room as he moved his head from left to right, taking in your plain appearance for the first time after the fog in his brain had dissolved.

"I should crush you like the insect you are to me!" His stare was so unlike you had ever seen him before - the usually composed man full of spite and disgust. Regaining all of those terrible memories sure was agonizing, so right now he felt nothing but pure rage.

You were completely at his mercy, yet you were still so trusting, confused at max - and sympathetic. "Do you think I need your damn pity? I am the peak of evolution, a god, and you are...nothing."

Of course he could do it easily, snap your neck like a toothpick. You were aware, and it honestly felt like he was doing it already, the lack of oxygen making you see stars...

...and yet you stopped resisting, your palm instead wandering up to his cheek, using up the last ounce of strenght to say his name.

"Jo-ohn, plea...se..."

Even though his grip would not falter, his face fell at the genuine affection dripping from your voice. He seemed bewildered, desperate even, a multitude of emotions playing on his face - before his lips ultimatively crashed over yours.

In spite of all logic you reciprocated the kiss, wrapping your arms around him like you had done so many times before. But it didn't feel as familiar, as safe and right as before.

There was nothing either of you could say or do now that the illusion you both had created was scattered.

Homelander shook his head, trying to ground himself. He was done playing pretend, he decided internally, letting you down exceptionally gentle. As he headed for the exit, he turned to look at you one last time.

"You're not even worth killing."

#the boys #homelander #homelander / reader #john gillman #homelander x reader #self insert #writing #fanfiction

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tchallasbabymama · 5 months ago

Text

Ménage à Trois Part Deux: Chapter Two

I'm still here (Tisha Campbell voice.)

Y'all... I've been working on this chapter for over a year. I literally JUST finished it and can't even wait for beta readers; I gotta post this now!

Life's lifing, but I haven't forgotten about my stories 💕

As usual, check out my masterlist for more of my work, let me know if you want to be tagged in anything, and make sure you reblog and/or leave a comment if you like it!

Without further ado, here's chapter 2!

Word count: 6,043

CW: smut

Among the many visitors who made their way to Wakanda to experience the kick-off of Queen Zora’s student exchange program was Amanda Livingston, a reporter for the New York Times. She had been assigned the potentially life-changing gig by her editor, and although she wasn’t looking forward to visiting the continent due to all the horrible propaganda she’d heard about it over the years, Amanda eventually came around when she saw the technologically advanced country with her own eyes. Wakanda outdid her wildest expectations, but she wasn’t content with simply enjoying her time in the foreign land. She needed to dig deeper to find dirt on the country that welcomed her into their borders.

When Amanda arrived at the gala, she instantly became uneasy. Looking around at the other, much more stylish guests, she felt underdressed. Their ornate cultural attire, vibrant jewels, and intricate hairstyles made her feel dull and unimpressive for the first time in her privileged life. Her basic navy blue shift dress was a business casual bore against her pale, freckled skin. Despite the thick layer of greasy sunblock clogging her pores, she could already feel her skin turning red after just a few minutes of exposure to the setting sun. Amanda grabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest server and downed it to calm her nerves before scanning the courtyard for shade, observing every person and their interactions. Unfortunately for her byline, both the Wakandans and visitors alike seemed to be enjoying themselves. No salacious stories had revealed themselves to Amanda yet, but she perked up upon noticing that a spot had opened up in the gazebo.

The journalist awkwardly squeezed her way into the ornate shelter, sandwiching herself between a prominent Congolese activist and a gaggle of excited Wakandan teens whose endless supply of questions grew louder and more animated as they listened to the visitor’s stories of grassroots organizing in his home country. Amanda listened along with the Wakandans while her eyes wandered around the rest of the gala, admiring the architecture and landscaping of the palace courtyard. It was so different from what she was used to in the States. Beautiful, sprawling, centuries-old fruit trees surrounded the space in lieu of carefully carved topiaries, and a large golden statue of a panther gleamed brightly as the centerpiece of a magnificent fountain. Amanda’s eyes fell to the water pooling beneath the towering feline’s paws, and she noticed unusual petals floating delicately on the surface.

Amanda whipped out her phone to snap a picture of the beautiful sight, but she noticed a familiar face just beyond the curve of the statue’s tail. Sure enough, there stood an old fuck buddy she hadn’t seen since her Ivy League years. In college, Mitchell Van Buren was a well-connected frat boy with a heart that appeared to be of gold, and fifteen years later, he was riding that squeaky-clean reputation all the way to the presidential campaign trail. Amanda had always thought that he favored the Ken doll she had as a young girl. As if he felt her gaze, Mitchell’s piercing blue eyes found hers, and he smiled as he recognized an old fling.

Amanda found herself standing next to Mitchell in no time flat, and the two of them lost track of time as they caught up on their lives. The friendly chat became more suggestive as time went on. They flirted back and forth until the queen’s speech, where Mitchell allowed his roaming hands to do the talking under Amanda’s dress. By the time Queen Zora returned to her seat, they were already sneaking off into the gardens to escape the crowd.

The politician and the journalist reconnected in a deep, dark corner of the gardens far away from the event. Their reunion was brisk, and as they straightened themselves back out, the sound of footsteps heading in their direction made them fear they had been caught. They stayed ducked behind the bushes as the queen swished her hips into view, followed by a very large man who stared at her with stars in his eyes. The two accidental voyeurs watched as he kissed her hand tenderly, and their eyes bulged in their sockets. Neither could believe what they were seeing. The queen of Wakanda cheating on the king…

The shock of it all made Mitchell freeze on the spot, but Amanda nearly salivated as she pictured the headlines. This was just the story she’d been looking for! Acting quickly and without remembering to turn the sound off her phone, Amanda snapped a picture of the couple. At that moment, the shutter seemed to be the loudest sound she or Mitchell had ever heard.

The queen and her lover pulled apart, and the mystery man barrelled towards them. Amanda and Mitchell ran in the opposite direction, but Mitchell tripped, nearly busting his chiseled chin on the ground. Amanda ran as fast as she could towards the gala until she rounded the last corner and noticed the Dora Milaje blocking the entrance to the garden. The much taller man shouted after her, and the guards turned around with their spears at the ready. Amanda froze and let go of her phone, but not before pressing send on a message that would surely cause a headache for the royals before the device could even crash to the ground.

“Th-the queen is a cheater! I saw it! We saw it!” Amanda yelled, purposely causing a bigger scene than necessary while squeezing out crocodile tears to gain sympathy points. Unfortunately, it worked, and the crowd turned around to gawk at the spectacle.

--------

Zora woke up to the sound of light snores to her left and warm breaths against her right ear. As usual, two heavy arms were slung across her body, but instead of starting her day filled with the joy of being in her lovers’ arms again, flashbacks of the night before played on a loop behind Zora’s eyes. She absentmindedly watched the ceiling fan rotate slowly and sighed as she cursed herself for slipping up, prompting T’Challa to tighten his grip on her waist.

“Stop thinking about last night,” he grumbled in her ear.

Zora turned to look at him questioningly, and he smirked without opening his eyes. She didn’t even bother asking how he knew what was on her mind, choosing instead to focus on the upward curl of his thick lashes. As if he felt her gaze, those lashes fluttered open, allowing the king’s precious gemstones to sparkle in the early morning sunlight.

“It was a disaster,” Zora whispered, trying not to wake her other husband from his deep slumber.

“Try not to focus on the ending.”

“I shouldn’t have gone into the gardens,” Zora whined. “I just-”

T’Challa cut her off with a kiss.

“You blame yourself too easily.”

He was right, but nonetheless, she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

“How are you so chill about this?”

T’Challa brought his hand up to caress her cheek.

“I have watched you live a lie to the rest of the world since the moment you stepped into this role, Babygirl. And I have watched that lie eat away at you every time you have to uphold it. As a man, and a Wakandan one at that, I will never fully understand the pressures of living in a world that dictates you move in such a way. From my point of view, it seems exhausting.”

“It is,” Zora croaked around the lump forming in her throat and turned to look at M’Baku, still splayed out on his stomach and snoring away. “I can’t help but think I’m hurting him. He says he’s fine, but I wouldn’t be if I were in his shoes.”

T’Challa decided it would be better to let M’Baku express his own feelings later, so he held his tongue instead of confirming Zora’s speculation. M’Baku had recently confided in him that he wasn’t as fine with their public arrangement as he let on, but since he didn’t want his feelings to stand in the way of Zora’s success, he was wary of telling her.

“You should talk to him about it,” the king advised.

“I will, but I’m pretty sure the whole world knows by now,” Zora huffed as last night’s events played in her mind again. She relived everything from the shutter click in the gardens to the crowd’s murmurs at seeing the Dora Milaje with their spears trained on two guests. Nearly every phone was up recording the catastrophe as it unfolded, several of which were streaming live, and they all captured the moment Zora’s carefully crafted image shattered into millions of pieces thanks to colonizers sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

“No, they know what those people think they saw. The world has yet to hear your truth.”

“I don’t think the world’s ready for the truth.”

“Not everyone will be, but imagine what you will be doing for those that are.”

“You always know what to say,” Zora complimented him with a warm smile.

“Is that not why you married me?”

Before Zora could respond, he kissed her deeply, and she moaned into his parted lips. The sound coursed through T’Challa’s veins and woke up the rest of his body until his every cell ached for his wife. He hadn’t touched her body in two weeks, and the time apart was starting to catch up to him the longer he kissed her. With M’Baku being around and a very willing submissive for them both, the king wasn’t in need of release, but he missed the smell of Zora’s skin and the taste of her juices seeping out for him. He longed to feel her contract around him when she climaxed, and the memory of her screaming his name had him prying her legs open and sliding his fingers into her depths.

“Mmmm-”

“Quiet, or your husband will catch us,” he ordered softly in Zora’s ear, turning her on even more. It wasn’t often that they engaged in cheating roleplay, but when they did, it turned Zora into a sopping wet mess. “You don’t want him to know how filthy you are, do you?”

Zora shook her head and trapped her plump bottom lip between her pearly whites in a feeble attempt to quiet her moans. Her big doe eyes dared not look away from T’Challa’s piercing gaze when he found a spot inside her that made her release a noise much too undignified for a woman of her royal ranking.

“I said be quiet, Zora,” T’Challa sneered, his breath hot against her ear as his teeth dragged along the lobe.

“Uxolo baby, I-I-”

Zora’s desperate whispers tickled T’Challa’s skin, and his ears grew hot the way they always did when she spoke his native tongue to him.

“Thula!” he growled, pulling his fingers out and slapping her sensitive vulva. The small whimper that she managed to squeak out upon impact made him smile. She was trying to be good for him, so he let his wet fingers trail up her pussy lips to the bundle of nerves that poked out like a beacon of pleasure, calling out to be touched and handled with care.

Zora’s body felt electric everywhere T’Challa touched her skin. Her fingertips longed to feel him, too, so they found their way to the coils of his beard and pressed his face closer to hers. Time seemed to move slower with every stroke of his fingers around her clit and every filthy and loving word he uttered. His words came out in husky whispers at first before transforming into guttural growls the more his erection pressed into her thigh. Zora was careful not to wind her hips too much to keep from waking M’Baku, but the way T’Challa zeroed in on her pleasure zones and overstimulated her body made it near impossible to lay still.

Kisses to Zora’s collarbone made her heart beat out of her chest. Her head jerked to the left, and she locked eyes with M’Baku as she heaved through T’Challa’s tortures, making the king chuckle darkly.

“Look what you did,” T’Challa teased as he angled his hips so that he could slide into her wetness, his hand placed firmly around her neck. “You woke him up, and now he knows you're my little cumslut. How do you think it makes him feel to see you like this?”

Zora’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as T’Challa bottomed out inside her, but no matter how good it felt, she knew one thing: she better not let go of her legs, or there would be delicious hell to pay. Since most mornings consisted of the throuple making vigorous love to start their day, they often started in this very position when the queen was the center of attention. T’Challa would find a way to slide in either from the back or the side, depending on how Zora was lying. Every time, without fail, he would assign her the task of holding her legs back for him, and every time, without fail, he’d beat the breaks off her pussy so good that she’d lose her grip, making him fuck her harder for insubordination.

Today, he could tell by the strained look on her face that she was determined to be good. He hadn’t forgotten about her eight infractions over their time apart, but Zora wasn’t in the right headspace for punishments. Naturally, she was stressed and scared about how the previous night could affect her career, but most of all, her guilt over hiding M’Baku from the world, combined with missing them both, had made her soft, and she’d need a thick skin for what T’Challa had planned for her.

So, the king fucked her slow and deep and watched with an amused smirk as she struggled to grip her legs. As if he read both of their minds, M’Baku’s large hand covered Zora’s, and he easily held her thick bronze legs in place the way he knew the king liked. Zora’s eyes met his again, and she pulled him into a kiss, their tongues colliding before their lips ever touched. They got lost in a cycle of licking and sucking and biting at each other until Zora’s hand wandered down to M’Baku’s naked dick, hard as Jabari wood and throbbing with the desperate heat of a man that missed the feeling of his wife’s inner workings. He moaned into her mouth as she worked her hand up and down his thickening shaft, and Zora answered with deep moans of her own that were prompted by T’Challa’s even deeper strokes. His grunts of pleasure in her ear just turned her on even more, and the three of them soon became composers in a beautiful symphony of swirling notes belted into the air while the percussion of their bodies kept rhythm.

Beep, beep-beep, beep, beep-beep.

Zora went rigid with an influx of anxious energy that filled her body from head to toe, swiftly replacing the waves of pleasure that she had been immersed in before T’Challa’s kimoyo beads began ringing.

“Ignore it,” T’Challa ordered through gritted teeth. “They will call back.”

“It could be important.”

“It is too early. Leave it be for now,” M’Baku nearly begged as he thrust into Zora’s hand.

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Zora’s beads began vibrating from the nightstand, and she released M’Baku, placing her palm on T’Challa’s chest. A growl escaped his lips as he pulled out.

“Zora, it can wait-” T’Challa cut himself off and turned towards the door with a curious look on his face just before someone’s knuckles banged against the vibranium.

“This can’t be good,” Zora murmured, untangling herself from M’Baku, reaching for her kimoyo beads, and sliding them onto her wrist.

T’Challa begrudgingly agreed with a nod of his head as he grabbed his black silk robe from the back of his chair. The knocks came again, this time sounding even more urgent than the first set, so when the king swung the door open, he was unsurprised to see Kidada, Bahati, and Dembe flanked by Okoye and Ayo. They exchanged the proper greetings and salutes, and upon hearing all the voices of those present, Zora’s heart sank to her stomach.

“Ugh, all hands on deck?” Zora groaned, burying her head into the pillow and covering it with the flimsy white sheet they slept under. M’Baku rubbed her back in comforting circles, but his eyes stayed glued to the doorway.

“We really hate to wake you up like this, but it seems we could not stop the footage of last night’s incident from leaking to the global press,” Bahati explained calmly.

Kidada held out a holopad for the king to scroll through news articles and social media posts. A thick silence filled the air as he read page after page of people’s disdain for Zora and her perceived infidelity.

“How bad is it?” Zora’s voice wavered, her mind already expecting the worst. She had been trying to gauge the degree of disaster from T’Challa’s responses, but his features were frozen in a carefully crafted poker face. He could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest and smell the panic seeping from her pores.

“It, uh…” T’Challa trailed off as his eyes focused on a headline from a popular gossip column. The writer speculated how quickly the king should divorce his supposedly adulterous wife. “It could be worse.”

---------

Over the years, Zora had exposed M’Baku to her people's art, culture, and history. From the triumphant to the traumatic, he learned more about the Lost Tribe than he ever anticipated. He respected their tenacity and ingenuity in surviving their colonizer’s oppressive regime. Seeing her world through his eyes made Zora appreciate it more, but sometimes his inquiries forced her to interrogate the parts of her society that even she didn’t understand.

For example, Zora could never properly explain assimilation to M’Baku in a way that made sense to him. Probably because, at her core, she didn’t understand it either. Every answer she gave the man confused him more than the last, and after all this time, he still didn’t get it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around people who chose to side with their oppressors, specifically the Black folks who adopted conservative sensibilities.

In the wake of the gala incident, M’Baku’s confusion grew tenfold as those same conservative Black folks got wind of what was happening in Wakanda, and their collective reaction was even stronger than the KKK whites over at Fox. His eyes glazed over every time Bahati and Kidada updated the royals on the situation. News briefings and viral videos lambasting Zora’s behavior seemed to be coming out every second, and the global scale of it all made M’Baku feel small.

Handsy megachurch preachers with a penchant for inflicting the fiery numbness of the male gaze onto the young women in their congregation spouted whole sermons to their flocks about the importance of wives remaining submissive and faithful to their husbands. Longstanding problematic radio personalities lamented the fact that the women they deemed golddiggers didn’t seem to know their place anymore. Most perplexing of them all, podcast niggas laughed at T’Challa and called him weak from behind their shitty microphones set up in their mother’s moldy basement. What was left of Black Twitter was in disarray. The royal Wakandan wedding had broken the internet the year before, and the news of Zora’s philandering sent waves through the app again. In just twenty-four hours, Zora had been called everything but a child of god, and T’Challa’s masculinity was questioned by those who clung to the patriarchal idea that his woman’s behavior determined his manhood. Meanwhile, the whole world speculated on the identity of the mystery man caught canoodling with the queen.

Under normal circumstances, the royals could have easily avoided the ruckus of the outside world when safe inside Wakanda, but the scandal’s timing couldn’t have been worse. For the first time in its long and storied history, Wakanda was hosting hundreds of outsiders from all over the globe. Zora’s unprecedented position within the royal house had truly brought forth a new age of diasporic collaboration, but the second the scandal broke, so did the facade. Of course, her people and most of the visiting children were unbothered. After their second full day, the exchange students had taken to calling Wakanda their ekhaya, their home. It warmed Zora’s heart every time she heard their foreign accents dance around the Xhosa words with varying levels of ease. Even more surprising was the Wakandan children blending their own words and mannerisms so seamlessly with their guests. Seeing their exchange in such a short amount of time was the only thing that fueled Zora as her public life crumbled around her.

Even though the exchange was for the benefit of the children, and therefore, it was shaping up to be a success, the adults weren’t shy about making their displeasure known. Many of them showed their nasty true colors the moment Zora’s supposed indiscretions went public. Some went as far as returning home and dagging their helpless children with them. Those who remained were either chaperones forced to stay with the few children whose parents hadn’t withdrawn from the program, or just looking for more dirt to take back home with the hopes of collecting a check. Unsurprisingly, the journalists and politicians were especially heinous in their approach, and T’Challa was steadily growing tired of walking the paper-thin line between needing to maintain diplomatic relations and swiftly dropping them all over the border in Niganda.

In just two days, the program had already lost nine students, and three schools in two separate countries had pulled out of the partnership. In that same amount of time, M’Baku spoke maybe ten words, and Zora weathered four panic attacks. The first of which came shortly after Bahati, Kidada, and Dembe interrupted the royal throuple’s morning lovemaking to break the news of the international scandal. The second two were due to her fear of failure being triggered by the waning participation in her exchange program, but the last one caught her off guard.

It struck while she was visiting her mother. Shortly after Zora’s weddings, Cheryl retired from teaching AP English Literature, packed up her Atlanta home, and moved into the house that T’Challa had given Zora when she accepted the liaison position. She just couldn’t bear being so far apart from her one and only child, and the time change was too much for her to keep track of. Truly, the first time Cheryl visited, she knew she’d be moving soon. For Operation Stepdaddy, if nothing else, which commenced as soon as she set down her suitcase.

Cheryl was backstroking through the Wakandan dating pool. According to the exploits she would dish to Zora and Ramonda about, the quantity was low, but the quality was high. Most of the men in her age range were already partnered, and she wasn’t one for polyamory like her daughter. However, the generous handfuls of men she’d interacted with restored her faith in their genderfolk.

In short, Cheryl was living her best life.

Between her newfound social life and lending her expertise as an educator to help shape Zora’s exchange program, she felt more fulfilled than ever. Zora had noticed the change in her mother. It was a change she had dreamed of seeing all her life. Cheryl seemed happy. She smiled all the time now, her shoulders didn’t carry tension, and the only thing stressing her out was the heat. She seemed free.

Cheryl was so used to seeing that same look on Zora’s face that she immediately knew something was wrong when she opened her front door to greet her daughter. Her energy was just off.

“You ruin your fancy shoes stepping in rhino shit again?” she quipped with a raised brow.

Zora couldn’t help but crack a small smile as she stepped over the threshold and into Cheryl’s outstretched arms.

“That was one time, momma.”

“And I still don’t know how you missed that big-ass pile.”

Ayo stifled a laugh as she entered the familiar space and allowed Cheryl to embrace her as well. They all knew that nobody was exempt from her hugs.

Zora was quieter than usual as she made her way through her former home. Cheryl had already made it her own, filling it with plants that Zora would’ve killed within a week. The walls were a deep maroon and covered in locally woven tapestries and baskets, and the entire home smelled like warming spices. The abundance of natural light peeking through the windows kept the place bright despite the darker color palate. It felt like Cheryl’s Atlanta home, but bigger and with a higher budget.

As soon as Zora sat down at the kitchen table, Cheryl handed her a mango juice mimosa–their favorite. The second their glasses clinked, the queen downed her cocktail in one gulp.

“Oh, it’s that kind of day?” Cheryl asked, sipping her glass once before setting it on the kitchen table between them.

Zora nodded, but before she could open her mouth to explain further, a calendar reminder popped up on her beads that made her head spin. She had forgotten about her doctor’s appointment—the one where she was set to have the birth control removed from her arm.

The thought of juggling the complete dumpster fire her life had become seemingly overnight with the possibility of bringing life into the world overwhelmed Zora. She could feel her heart thumping in her eardrums, and her jaw tightened as she tried to breathe through the anxiety crashing into her.

“It’s too much some days.”

The queen’s voice sounded small, so her mother laid a soft hand on her shaking knee.

“What is, honeybun?”

Zora’s mind raced. Where to begin?

“Now I see why Wakanda stayed isolated for so long,” Zora sighed before walking her mom through the events of the last few days. As she laid down her burdens, heavy iron gears turned in Cheryl’s mind. She couldn’t help but try to figure out a way to fix her one and only child’s problem, but the politics of it all stumped her.

“I don't even know what to say, baby.”

They sat in a thick silence for several moments until Cheryl broke it by refilling Zora’s glass. This time, the royal sipped it slowly before parting her lips once more with a question that had been weighing her down since her calendar dinged.

“When did you know you were ready to be a mom?”

Cheryl’s heart nearly beat out of her chest, but she played it cool. She had never been one to push Zora to have kids, but it was one of her deepest wishes to grow old and experience being a grandmother.

“Not until I gave you your first bath,” Cheryl chuckled. “I was scared to death to hold you– you were so tiny. I just knew I’d break you.”

Zora remembered the many stories she’d heard over the years about Cheryl’s tumultuous pregnancy. How ashamed she was for ending up in that situation, and how alone she felt. That man really put her momma through it…

“Why do you ask?” Cheryl cut her eyes at Zora’s mimosa glass, “I know you ain’t pregnant drinking all that champagne.”

Zora shook her head.

“Not yet. I was thinking about having my implant removed, but now,” the queen shook her head and took another sip of mango mimosa. “My timing couldn’t be worse.”

“There’s no such thing as the perfect time, honeybun.”

“Yeah, but in the middle of a media shitstorm?”

Cheryl chuckled before turning up her drink and finishing the last drop. By the time she placed the glass down on the table, an idea had churned up between her ears.

“Maybe that’s exactly what you need.”

Zora looked at her like she had two heads, but Cheryl continued, “They’d eat up a royal baby! Plus, you’d have an excuse to step out of the spotlight for a little while, and by the time you come back, they’d be too enamored with my grandbaby to give a damn about your sex life.”

“Momma, I’m not having a baby as a PR move.”

“Let me ask you something, Zora. Do you want to be a mother?”

Zora’s eyes softened as she pictured her future, and a saccharine smile hung on her lips as she nodded softly.

“And do your husbands want to be fathers?”

Zora couldn’t contain her giggle.

“You already know they’re just waiting on me.”

“Then you have that baby whenever you damn well please, and the rest of the world will just have to keep up. You’re a queen, Zora. You have so much more than I had, or my momma, or her momma. We had to deal with all kinds of stigmas and oppression that you’re free from. So, do what the fuck you want.”

---------

Those words danced around Zora’s head all that night, but she still chose to postpone her appointment. Not by long, just a few more weeks. However, Cheryl’s passionate refrain inspired a different course of action regarding the gala incident. Instead of praying that the ordeal would blow over, Zora and Bahati spent the next two days crafting a statement to take control of the narrative. After Cheryl lent her wordsmith expertise to the speech, Zora felt that it was finally ready for public consumption. But she needed to ensure it landed with her target audience before anyone else.

Excitement made Zora giddy, and she was barely able to sit still while Bahati quickly ran through her end-of-day update on the student exchange program. The remaining students and their chaperones had spent the day in the Border province, sharpening their language skills while learning about Wakandan agriculture and traditional cuisine. She had been missing out on so much…

When she and Bahati parted ways for the night, Zora checked her kimoyo beads to see where her husbands were. M’Baku’s avatar stood in the kitchen housed in their royal suite, which made Zora’s stomach growl in anticipation of whatever he had whipped up. Her eyes drifted to T’Challa’s avatar darting around the training room, and she wondered who his sparring partner was today. What lucky foe got to witness the Black Panther in all his sweaty, aggressive glory?

She licked her lips as she called him.

The communication bead buzzed in her palm, and seconds later, T’Challa’s glistening form came into view. His locs were loose, so he tossed them back out of his eyes as he caught his breath.

“Good evening, my queen.”

“Hello, husband.” Zora couldn’t help her lusting, “You look delicious.”

“Eish!” Okoye cursed off-camera, making Zora giggle.

“Uxolo, general,” she apologized with a smirk. “I thought you were done for the day.”

“She was, but I convinced her to stick around and lose a few rounds.” T’Challa dismissed Okoye and waited until she left the training room before turning back to Zora. “I still have a few more rounds in me, Babygirl.”

Zora stepped onto the elevator and let the doors swish closed behind her.

“Tempting, but business first,” she teased.

“What business?”

“Come home and find out.”

Zora ended the call before he could respond, smirking to herself. He hated it when she did that, but she loved pushing his buttons. Especially when he was already sweaty, shirtless, and revved up.

The elevator doors slid open, and she was welcomed home by the aroma of M’Baku’s home cooking. She tried to guess what it was, but it eluded her. It was definitely something she’d tasted before, but not often. The spices that swirled in the air hinted at local cuisine, nothing from the international cookbooks he had come to collect over the last few years. Something rare, as if for a special occasion–

Zora stopped in her tracks before she entered the suite.

The date.

She had forgotten its significance to her husband, and her stomach churned with guilt. She had been so busy dealing with her own mess that she forgot it was the worst day of his life.

Shortly after M’Baku won the Jabari chiefdom, his mother fell ill. Her lungs were weak, too weak to make it through the changing of seasons. His father wasted away slowly over the next year and finally wandered into the snow on the anniversary of her death.

M’Baku had spent the last decade without his parents, and it had been nearly as long since he’d last spoken to his siblings. Growing up, he was the eldest of four, and all Zora knew was that only three of them remained on this plane. M’Baku refused to speak about them, so she didn’t push him on it.

But Zora knew this day always came with heartache, so she slid out of her shoes and padded across the sunken living room to the open kitchen. Without saying a word, she wrapped her arms around M’Baku’s trunklike waist and buried her head in the soft fabric covering his back. She felt some of the tension release from his body at her touch, but plenty remained.

“How was your day, my sweet?” he asked softly, and she hugged him tighter.

“I should be asking you that.”

“No need; my answer would be bleak.”

Zora released him just enough to circle around and squeeze between his body and the stovetop, forcing his sad eyes to peer into her soul. Her hands on either side of his face brought him to the verge of tears.

“I don’t care how bleak it is. I want to know everything you’re going through, baby.”

M’Baku nodded and surrendered to her delicate kisses.

“I-” he began but stopped himself from voicing the words that brought him so much guilt.

“I just miss them,” he sighed. “Every day, my home reminds me of them. Every mountaintop, every fish in the river… I am tired of the memories.”

Zora let his tears fall from his tired eyes but wiped them away with her thumbs before they could reach his beard. She walked him over to the kitchen table and sat him down as T’Challa entered the suite. He took in the scene and understood immediately.

“I’ll finish dinner, baby.” Zora kissed M’Baku’s forehead and let T’Challa take over while she kept their yearly repast from burning. She kept an eye on them from the other side of the room, watching as they mumbled to each other. M’Baku let out his tears on T’Challa’s shoulder as the king comforted him. Every now and then, Zora and T’Challa would lock eyes, and their silent conversation spoke volumes. In all their time together, they had never seen this day hit him so hard.

M’Baku barely spoke through dinner, a haunted look in his distant gaze that unnerved Zora while they ate. It wasn’t until T’Challa cleared the table that a sigh escaped M’Baku’s lips.

“I want this more,” he stated, confusing the other two.

“This?” Zora asked, and the chief nodded.

“This. Normal life.”

T’Challa had been feeling inklings of M’Baku’s ambivalence towards his chiefdom for quite a while now. With the Jabari throne not being a blood right but a title only won through battle, M’Baku didn’t have the same sentimental connection to ruling his people. T’Challa often wondered if he would feel the same under different circumstances.

“What does normal mean to you?” T’Challa invited him to say the words that would free him.

M’Baku considered his words carefully. Over the years, he had grown to love living in the capital, far away from the ghosts that haunted the snow. The more time he spent away, the more he realized just how miserable he was at home. Since getting married, he’d spend four or five nights a week in Birnin Zana with his bride and her other husband. The Jabari elders hated him for his constant absence, but even they could see how much lighter he seemed every time he returned. The chief was unhappy being chief. It seemed that everyone knew it, and none of them could blame him, given the circumstances.

“I no longer wish to be chief of the Jabari.”

Next chapter

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i-sneezed · 11 months ago

Text

Some Elriel evidence that doesn't get much attention.

First of all, if you're just having fun with your ships, you do you, man. I'm not here to rain on your parade.

However, there are so many people out there that are CONVINCED of Elucien/Gwynriel that I can't take it anymore and I have to throw in my two cents, so here we go. I'm gonna break it down by ship.

Elucien

There's no way, bro. And we can set aside the fact that if that ship were to sail it would be the same sort of love story as Nessian (reluctant mates).

The most obvious thing to discuss here is that Elain is clearly not interested. And neither, to some extent, is Lucien.

Let's look back to ACOWAR when Lucien talks to Elain in the library. He thinks about Jesminda. "[She] had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been...thrown at him."

Like Azriel, Lucien wants to be chosen. He's had it before and he sees the value in it. Unfortunately, he's a fae male and he has a hard time ignoring his instincts where his mate is concerned, so he keeps trying. Even though he can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. Whereas Vassa...

Elain, on the other hand, has absolutely no interest in a mating bond. After Graysen breaks her heart in ACOWAR, Feyre says, "Some sliver of hope had been shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, marry her--and that love would trump even a mating bond."

Obviously, that quote is in direct reference to her ex-fiance, but we see Elain reconfirm that desire in ACOFAS when she tells Feyre explicitly that she doesn't want a mate. I don't think it's personal to Lucien, I think she rejects the idea of being told who she should be with. Of being robbed of choice.

We learn from Nesta in ACOSF that their mother always said Elain would marry for "love and beauty". I think for Elain, a mating bond is not the same as love. Also, small aside, but who is constantly regarded as the most beautiful of the bat boys?

We haven't seen them have a conversation about their mating bond yet because why would we? That will happen in Elain's book (which is most likely next).

Gwynriel

I feel like this one is more dangerous to get into so I'll tread lightly.

Firstly, the majority of evidence for this ship comes from a bonus chapter that the majority of the fandom doesn't even know exists. Anyone who listens to the audiobooks doesn't know about it unless they poke around ACOTAR stuff online.

It doesn't make sense for an author to essentially change the entire trajectory of a story in a bonus chapter that most people don't know about.

Also, I think a big problem with the BC is that people read it after they finish the book, so it can feel like the most recent thing to happen in the story, but it's not. It happens about 2/3 of the way through ACOSF and a lot happens after that.

But before we get into that, let's talk about the shadows. People lose their damn minds that Az's shadows dance for Gwyn and vanish for Elain. The truth of it is that we don't know what dancing shadows actually mean, though. It's the first time we've seen it happen. However, we have seen his shadows vanish for someone other than Elain.

In ACOMAF, when Feyre meets the IC for the first time, they vanish for Mor. "Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing...The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit."

So we know that the shadows vanish in the presence of someone Azriel has romantic feelings for, but we don't know what makes them dance.

Then, at the end of the BC (after he said he didn't even consider Gwyn to be a friend) he feels a spark of joy in his chest. Good. My shadow man deserves happiness.

But we know that it doesn't last because at the very next training right after Solstice, Neta comments that Az is "More aloof than usual" which clearly shows us that he is far more hung up on what happened with Elain than whatever may or may not be going on with Gwyn.

For her part, Gwyn becomes more comfortable around Azriel after Solstice. We love to see it because the poor girl has been so traumatized and, like Az, she deserves to be happy.

However, at no point does Nesta or Cassian suspect there to be any romantic connection between them. Not like how Nesta did with Az and Elain. ("His secret to tell. Never hers.").

And then at the climax of the book, Gwyn is thrown into the Blood Rite. At no point is Az even half as frantic as Cassian (which a mate would be) and he is way more preoccupied with whatever's going on with Eris.

At the end, when Nesta is getting ready for her mating ceremony, Gwyn tells her that she's not ready to leave the House of Wind again. Poor thing has been re-traumatized because of what happens in the BR and can't stand to leave the House. And y'all think she's ready for any kind of romantic relationship??

Nah, let Gwyn heal without the influence of a male.

Elriel

So I'm got gonna talk about the rescue, him figuring out she's a seer, giving her Truth Teller, or any of the usual stuff because that's been said and said and I have nothing to add to it.

Instead, I want to talk about what I believe their trope will be and share my evidence with the class. Cool? Cool.

Okay, so, I think we all know that if Elriel is endgame then their trope will be forbidden lovers.

Personally, I am of the opinion that the purpose of Az's bonus chapter was to confirm that for us, not suddenly change the entire trajectory of the story.

But forbidden lovers makes so much sense for Elriel because of what we've seen in the books, not just the BC.

Looking at ACOMAF again, Mor tells Feyre, "'Azriel's got no shortage of lovers, though, don't worry. He's just better at keeping them secret than we are.'"

Then, in ACOSF, when Feyre's talking about how Elain figured out she was pregnant first, she says to Azriel, "'I think she's got you beat for secret-keeping'".

So it's already in-canon that Azriel can keep his lovers secret very well and that Elain is just good at secrets in general.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

A moment I never see anyone talk about is something that Cassian observes at a family dinner. "Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie's garden. Cassian didn't know why he suspected this wasn't true. There had been some tightness in Elain's face when she said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around, but the male remained in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa."

Elain already has secrets the IC aren't privy to. So what's one more?

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #lucien vanserra #gwyneth berdara #acotar #fandom ships

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laura1633 · 3 days ago

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Fic writer interview thank you for the tag @481boxboxbaby and @souvenir116

Tagging @saviour-of-lord and @ilyarozanove (not sure if you have been tagged already and no pressure if you don't like tag games!) and anyone else who wants to do this feel free to use this as your invite.

How many works do you have on AO3? 155 - Wow okay I don’t know how I ended up writing so many.

What's your total AO3 word count? 1,076,320

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 1. Preloved 2. Good Boy 3. A million times over 4. Weak 5. My Pretty Princess

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I try to respond to comments and I have gotten a lot better at it. If I have ever not responded it's because I have left it too late and then panic over whether it's still appropriate to respond!! I read all comments though, it’s the biggest motivator so thank you to everyone who leaves comments on fics, I appreciate you all <3

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Either ‘One last night’ or ‘Hitching a ride’ Both are open ended though.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?There are a lot that have happy endings but off the top of my head I will go with ‘A million times over’. It’s just an overall short cute one-shot.

Do you write crossovers? No

Have you ever received hate on a fic? If I have then I have forgotten about it because I can’t recall any hate coming in. I am sure there are plenty of people who hate my stories though, I’ve just been lucky they haven’t told me about it!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes I do and lots of it. Almost any kind. Dom/sub, pain play, tentacles, omegaverse, lots of kinks, nice soft sex, loss of virginity. I would definitely say varied!

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not stolen but hmmm I have seen something very close to what I have written.

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, not that I have seen anyway. I have had people ask before but I am not sure if they ever actually translated them.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No but I have spoken about it with @481boxboxbaby unfortunately I am disastrously disorganised so I don’t know if I should really inflict that on other people 😂 I do think it would be fun to have a fic with a set up and then multiple authors taking a chapter each to write the scenario from various drivers points of view. That would take a lot of organising though.

What's your all-time favorite ship? Lestappen

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?There are so many of them, I have a folder full of random wips that will likely never be finished. At the moment I am fighting my way to try and finish a cowboy Max au one shot, I have started it and deleted it soooo many times, I will finish it though, it’s just not clicking right now!

What are your writing strengths? I guess maybe just having a certain level of creativity when it comes to coming up with ideas. That can also be my downfall because there are too many ideas pinging around for me to concentrate on one!

What are your writing weaknesses? I always say that my writing style is more about a general vibe rather than it being grammatically correct 😬

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I’ve personally never done it. I’d have to use google translate and I wouldn’t trust that it would read properly.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? F1

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?Charles/Oscar or Max/Rico Verhoeven. I will get around to writing them eventually

What's your favorite fic you've written? It’s probably recency bias but the fic I am writing and posting right now “Preloved” is probably my favourite. I think it's also super encouraging when people are commenting and enjoying the story so it has made the whole thing more enjoyable. I will definitely be writing some more multi chaptered fics going forward. Of the one shots maybe The Sweetest Deal because it plays into my love of babygirl Max.

#Fic Interview Game

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soft-girl-musings · 8 months ago

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Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 5 (Something's Gotta Give)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N, brief mention of past injury, spanish translation at end (courtesy of @queerponcho, thank you beloved)

wc: 3.4k

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

chapter summary: immovable object? the unstoppable force would like a word.

__________

As far as peace offerings go, it’s not the worst.

At least, that’s what you’ve told yourself as you stand outside your neighbor’s apartment, your fist failing to close the distance and knock. In one hand you hold a plate of pastries you’d bought earlier. Hopefully it’s enough.

Before you can raise your hand again, the door whips open.

Leah Mendoza, ever the force to be reckoned with, stands with arms akimbo and eyebrow raised. “Quit shuffling your feet and come inside, nena.”

You oblige wordlessly. Crossing the threshold, you immediately feel the warmth of her apartment embrace you. Not that she’s escaped the chill that plagues your building; Leah is an artist, and every flat surface serves as either canvas or easel. Most spaces are covered in surreal portraits and near-magical icons, her handiwork displayed as a gorgeously chaotic gallery. Sunlight streams through gauzy curtains to feed sprawling plants and attempts to warm the richly colored rug beneath your feet.

You leave your shoes at the door and hold out the platter, smiling sheepishly. “Hope you still have a sweet tooth.”

“It's been so long, I'm surprised you remember.” Despite her playfully icy tone, Leah’s expression warms as she peeks at the pan de mallorca you hand over.

“...But I suppose going five blocks out of your way for breakfast makes up for it.” She nudges you with her hip before escorting you to the kitchen.

“Look what the cat dragged in, Caro,” Leah calls out to the seating area as she pours two mugs of coffee. You see your other friend’s smiling eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Ohhh, it’s been ages!” she squeals as she rushes to your side, tackling you with an enthusiastic hug.

Caroline Ngo, the youngest of your trio, has always brought a much-needed energy to your time together. When she and her parents moved in, you and Leah decided to adopt her into your early morning ritual of coffee and gossip. As her rosy cheeks beam up at you, you’re (a bit selfishly) grateful that she’s delayed her college applications by a year. You’re not ready to part with your other baby bird just yet.

Still, you pry yourself from her grasp. “Something tells me you had an early start on the coffee.”

“Maybe,” she drawls as she saunters away. Leah passes you a steaming mug, prepared just the way you like it.

The three of you sit, sipping and smiling as the room grows brighter with the sunrise. Leah regales you with the results of her latest art show; Caroline badgers you for updates about Mauricio, dimpled cheeks flushed as she speaks. For a few moments, everything feels like it used to.

Leah finishes her pastry and turns to you. “So, ‘Ms. Songbird’. How are you?”

You shrug, dismissive. “Oh, you know. The usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You haven't been around for us to see your ‘usual’.” Leah's voice is measured, but she’s clearly frustrated. “Can you tell me the last time we've heard more than a ‘good morning’ from you? Or were together for longer than an elevator ride to our floor?”

You chuckle nervously. “Goodness, maybe… August? September?”

“June.” She sips her coffee before setting it down. “Are things really so busy at work that you can't spare a moment for us anymore?”

If only you knew.

“I'm sorry, ladies. Truly. But things have been picking up at the lounge, I've even had to get outside help–”

“Ah yes, the altar boy lawyer.” Leah shakes her head. “I thought you were done with him.”

“‘Done with him?’ Leah, he's my friend.”

“Oh, I recall. So good a friend that he lets you ice his bruises and clean his cuts.” She crosses her arms. “So good, he's even bringing new friends with the same scrapes to your door.”

“The other night was an emergency–”

“How long are you going to run around with that kind of crowd?” Her voice bites. “Believe me, I know my share of the nightlife. But every time you bring home some broken man, a load of trouble seems to follow.”

This is not where you saw the morning going. “I thought we were spending time together, not berating the company I keep.”

“Please don't be upset,” Caroline pleads, taking your hand from her seat on the floor. “We miss you. You haven’t been home in weeks,” she laments. “At least, not for more than a couple of hours.”

You shift in your seat but give her hand a light squeeze. “I've missed you, too.”

“Then do something about it.” Leah gets up, crossing the room to distract herself with more coffee but then doubles back to look you in the eyes.

“You know my gut is never wrong, nena. And I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't speak my mind.”

You brace yourself as she continues. “You can spend your nights hiding behind your Songbird persona and running the lounge, but don't be surprised if the cage you're building around yourself is locked from the inside.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, leaving you and Caroline in silence.

Slowly, Caroline slides into Leah’s empty seat, her hand still on yours.

“... I always liked your stage name.”

You don’t say anything, instead letting your eyes trail through the patterns on the rug.

She scoots closer. “Leah’s just looking out for you. Like always.”

“I know, Caro.”

You feel her head rest on your shoulder. Tough love has always been Leah’s strong suit; as hard as you are on your boys, it’s bush league compared to your friend.

Caroline’s next words are low, whispered just loud enough for you to hear. “I know that man you were helping.”

You look down at her, dumbfounded. “Really? You know Jake?”

She sits up, eyes wide again. “Well, not technically. I never learned his name. But when he was leaving your apartment, I recognized his face.” Her small smile grows as she speaks. “There were days I’d stay out late after school, and I’d catch a ride from him sometimes. He’s really kind, not like some of the other cab drivers.”

Concern suddenly sweeps across her face. “Is he going to be alright?”

You think back to the morning he left your apartment: his bruises, your stitches, the blood that still stained his coat…

His hand on your hand, your face…

You don’t feel your fingers grazing the apple of your cheek until you hear Caroline giggle. Your hand drops to your lap as your face warms. “He’ll be fine. If he wised up and saw a real doctor, that is.” You shrug, reaching for your coffee.

“You care about him,” she teases.

“Oh, come off it,” you huff, nudging her leg with yours.

“And he obviously cares about you!” She squeals, lowering her voice when Leah turns her head toward the noise. “I saw him leave your apartment, but he stood there for ages, staring at your door.” Her grip on your hand grows unbearably tight. “What happened that night?”

You’ve been asking yourself the same question from the moment he left you standing in a bloodstained gown, your apartment colder without him. Since then, there hasn’t been a moment where you’ve been free from the memory of his face.

“I did him a favor. And… he may have done one for me, too.”

__________

Jake Lockley is man enough to admit when he’s been beaten.

In this case, he's absolutely won over. Head-over-heels, and at your mercy.

Maybe years from now, society adopts stricter rules for how soon you should call on a lady. Even today, some would advise against showing your hand too early. Some men wouldn’t want to seem too eager, too desperate.

But Jake Lockley is not a liar.

If “desperate” is the word for the incessant drumming in his chest each time you come to mind; if it’s what has him cutting corners and driving recklessly, ushering customers along at double the pace so his thoughts can return to you; if it’s why his palms sweat and nerves ache at the memory of your face that night, that morning… then Jake Lockley is desperate.

It’s hardly been a day and a half since he left your apartment, cold and injured. The suit stitched him back together in seconds; the only ache that remained was at the thought of you. You, who scooped him off the pavement and took pity on him. Who stained your hands with his blood to make it stop. You, who set his skin on fire with the smallest touch and had him convinced he would burn with or without it.

Screw the three day rule. He has to see you.

Hot under the collar, Jake now sits at the bar– your bar, long before normal business hours. Next to him is Matt, whose face hasn’t untwisted from the wry grin he’s had from the moment they met up.

“It’s like a jackhammer,” he chuckles into his glass, dodging Jake’s backhand swing.

“Can it, Murdock.” Jake’s hand returns to his own drink. Downing the rest, he raises his glass to the bartender. “Top me off, Mr. Manalo.”

Teddy obliges with shaking hands. He scoops up the bills Jake slides his way before dashing off. The two men had asked for privacy, and he’s determined to stay in their good graces.

Jake knocks back the new drink, swiping the excess from his lip as Matt’s laughter grows louder.

“You really need to calm down.”

“That’s what this was for,” Jake retorts, shaking his glass so the ice clinks against the edge. It’s doing him little good, though; from the moment he snuck in here that stormy night, he knew The Paper Moon as an extension of you. Even with the house lights up and nobody onstage, the lounge makes his heart race as quickly as if you were right beside him.

Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be alright, you’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah,” Jake snorts. Matt’s quiet for a suspicious amount of time. “What’s on your mind, Murdock?”

“What’s on yours?” Telltale concern creeps into his voice. “How are things up there lately?”

Jake smirks, the expression not reaching his eyes. “Oh, you know. Loud… and quiet, in all the wrong ways.”

“Seems quieter than before.”

“Yeah?” Jake cocks an eyebrow. His mind doesn’t feel quieter, not the way it should. Khonshu’s been on his ass more often, doubling down when his thoughts dare to drift to anything besides the mission at hand. The god throwing a tantrum has become one of the few guarantees that remain.

“I mean it,” Matt reassures him. “It’s like night and day from when you returned stateside.”

Jake stirs the ice in his glass, tempted to hop the counter and refill it himself. It takes everything in him to repress the memory of “before,” to not think of the bloody business in El-Alamein. To forget when the occupancy of his mind dropped from three to two.

“Must be the good old American soil.” His sneer drops as he considers his next words. “... or the fool of a pro bono lawyer I managed to snag.”

“Maybe,” Matt says. “Or it could be the little bird that's caught your ear.”

Before Jake can respond, a pair of footsteps cross onto the stage behind them.

He turns to see you and Mauricio, backs to the house, talking in rushed succession as you survey the stage. You’re in a blouse and trousers, your movements easy and unrehearsed despite the growing exasperation in your voice.

“Maurie, I don't care how Leo feels the lights bounces off his new mustache wax, unless he can't follow my cues he's staying stage left. And–”

“No days off for you, are there?”

When you turn you see Jake, hat in hand and standing a few steps from the bar, as if he’d walked toward you but stopped halfway up the aisle. You can’t place the look on his face, but you're nevertheless pinned under the gaze of his now-healed eyes shining up at you.

“JAKE!” Mauricio startles you when he shouts, leaping off the stage to clasp hands with the older man.

“Hermano,” Jake chuckles, pulling him into a quick hug before letting go. “¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?”

“��Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" Mauricio leans in, examining the pale line running through Jake’s eyebrow with awe.

“Ah, just a scratch.” Jake shrugs as he brushes past him to approach the stage and offers his hand as you step down. You accept, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grasp.

“Leave the man alone, Maurie,” you chide, nodding your thanks and holding back a laugh. As much as Caroline fawns over you, Mauricio seems to do the same to Jake whenever their paths cross. It helps that he plays along.

As the three of you walk back to the bar, you notice Matt dial in to something and smile– far from his normal reaction.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than another drink, I have an appointment with Matthew this afternoon.” You cross over to your friend, whose smile only grows as you draw closer. But you brush it off, still focused on Jake.

“Actually,” he starts, his hand sliding into his pocket, “I was hoping to cut in on your consult time for a moment. That alright with you, doll?”

Matt clears his throat. “Mauricio, can you take me backstage? I should start unpacking this file.”

The drummer perks up. “Sure! But the band’s getting ready to play some poker… you feel like teaming up again? We can split the pot like usual.”

“Even better,” Matt grins. “Lead on.”

He gathers his portfolio and walking stick to follow. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear you could see a moment of panic flicker across Jake’s face.

It’s replaced in a flash with his usual smirk. “Sure you want to risk your pocket change, Matty?”

“If all my clients paid like you do, I'd be out of a job.” He collects himself and follows Mauricio’s footsteps, turning to Jake and mouthing “jackhammer” with a hand to his chest when he’s behind you.

Their footfalls fade and it’s just the two of you at the bar. You take a seat, drumming your fingers on the surface to soothe your nerves. Jake sits beside you.

“You look better.” You notice the scar Maurie was talking about: his former head wound is free of your haphazard stitches, instead healed into a light dash through his dark brow. “But I told you that would scar.”

He shakes his head, brushing his fingers past the spot. “I kinda like it. Gives me an edge,” he chuckles. Maybe Khonshu hadn’t healed his face the way he normally would as some sort of lesson. Joke’s on him.

“How did… I mean, you look really good, how did you recover so quickly?” Now that you’re closer, you realize there’s no sign he was hurt just two days ago. If not for his scar, you could pass that night off as some sort of dream.

“You told me to see a doctor, didn’t you? Looks like I’ve got the best one around.”

You eye him, not sure what to think. “... yeah, alright.”

Your fingers drum the bar again. Maybe that night knocked all of Jake’s suave confidence from his head: when he’s not speaking (something you’re still not used to), he looks like a child about to lose his lunch. For all his urgency a few minutes ago, he’s taking his sweet time getting to the point.

Finally he sits up straight and takes something out of his pocket. “Here. For you, morena.”

A small black box slides toward you, stopping at your restless fingers. You raise an eyebrow quizzically, a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“A present? Didn’t take you for the ‘holly-jolly’ type.” You pick up the box, feeling its velvet casing and fighting back a smile.

“Nah, not really a Christmas guy myself. But I figured you could use a pick-me-up.” Jake crosses one arm along the bar, propping his chin in his other hand as he watches you open the box.

Inside, you see a delicate gold chain with a charm fastened to its middle: a small bird with its wings spread, intricate designs etched into its surface.

“Oh my…” You look back at Jake, who seems to have been holding his breath as you examine your gift.

Your slowly unfolding smile is all the reward he could ask for, breathless laughter pushed from his chest with relief. “For the songbird,” he casually declares, relief mixing with pride at your reaction.

You take the necklace out and hold it to the light. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh. You undo the clasp and try to put it on yourself, but your fingers can’t seem to make it fasten.

“Allow me,” he says quickly, standing to move behind you and assist.

You feel his hands take over and drop your own in your lap. His knuckles brush the back of your neck and it takes everything in you not to shiver. The smell of smoke and spice dances on your senses, pulled away all too soon when he moves to stand in front of you.

“There,” he breathes, eyes going from the pendant draped below your collar to your eyes. “Looks perfect.”

Your fingers grasp the cool metal as you nod. “Looks perfect.”

Silence falls again. You’ve come to hate the sound of nothing when you’re with him.

Jake’s the first to break it. He sits back down, his next words like a punch to the gut. “You know, now that I’m not driving Wesley around… I won’t have to take up space at your back table anymore.”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.” You toy with the charm around your neck. “So is this… goodbye?”

“That depends,” he says cautiously. He turns to you, eyes swimming with the same unfamiliar mix of emotions from before. “Do you want it to be?”

Your fingers leave your neck as you meet his gaze. “Don't say you're going all soft on me, cabbie.”

“What if I was?” He leans forward, and for the first time you don't back away.

“Cards on the table: I haven't stopped thinking about you.”

That makes two of us. You bite your tongue to let him continue.

“Morena… would you ever want to get out of here? Just you and me, call it a truce or a… a date.” A smile plays on his lips before his brow creases. “I won't badger you after today, just… one way or another, put me out of my misery.”

The wings of the charm feel heavier with the weight of his confession. Hand to your heart, you feel the bird again, this time with Leah's warning running through your mind.

“I suppose a truce wouldn't hurt.”

When he smiles, wider than ever, you see the charming gap in his teeth. And you smile, too. You both laugh, the heated stress in your nerves turning to effervescent relief.

You could spend an hour like this. But when you hear shouts of frustration and a bilingual litany of choice words echo from backstage, you know you have to go put out a different fire.

“I should make sure Matthew isn't in trouble,” you sigh, standing to straighten yourself.

“If I know Matt, he's the one causing the trouble.” Jake stands with you, desperate for this moment not to end but anxious for your next answer. “So when can we–”

“Sunday night,” you cut him off, starting to back away toward the stage. “I'll figure out how to slip away, but meet me under the sign at 9.”

You move to rush toward the stage at another outburst, but Jake's hand catches yours yet again.

“You can't keep doing that,” you groan, yet with a smile still on your lips as he tugs you back toward him.

“You're the boss,” he hums, pressing his lips to the back of your hand– the gesture all too routine, but you're ready to admit you've missed it.

He releases your hand and dons his cap, tipping it to you. You laugh again, a rich and easy sound he'd never tire of hearing. You bow slightly and dash backstage, with Jake's voice calling to you as you leave.

“See you Sunday, Songbird."

__________

“¿No te andas metiendo en problemas, eh?” - Not getting yourself into any problems, eh?

“¿Parece que tu eres el que anda causando problemas, ey botero? ¿De dónde salió esa cicatriz?" - Seems like you’re the one causing troubles, hey cabbie? Where did that scar come from?

note: in-universe Jake is Guatemalan and Mauricio is Cuban; as a non-spanish speaker, please let me know how i can improve in the future!

A/N: i've missed these two!! this chapter was a doozy but i'm so happy to have gotten back on track. i won't say PPP is on hiatus (we never had a promised release schedule) but after i take a wee break from writing, i'm set on finishing my Moon Knight Bingo prompts before 4/30 + starting on my OI fanzine entries (!!! exciting times). but if inspiration strikes before i finish, i certainly won't complain.

ty for reading!!

tag list: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mercurysjoy, @importantnightwerewolf, @cupidysm, @queerponcho, @nerdieforpedro, @fandxmslxt69, @shadystarlightgentlemen, @lunar-ghoulie, @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight au #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #noir!jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #jake lockley x woc!reader #jake lockley x poc!reader #jake lockley/reader #jake lockley/fem!reader #jake lockley/woc! reader #jake lockley/poc!reader #matt murdock

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anonymous-existences · 1 month ago

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Chapter 5 : Fun Streaming Shenanigans

[World Building Chapter 2]

[𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝙲𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝙱𝚊𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 12:45 𝙿𝙼]

Tucker was setting up his streaming set-up and dash helping with the heavier sets, "What... Are they doing...?" Valerie asks as she drank her coffee beside Dante. "... Being idiots." Dante scoffs "No Dante, This is Genius! Streaming Valerie!" Danny says Excitedly because they're gonna let Danny Join the dismantling Parts. The Elders were very supportive and even gave them their own streaming Room that is their lounge. Very supportive sweet people who even gave them all Seperate rooms, except Danny and Dante who Says they wanted to stay in the same room.

"Hello Chat! Tucker Foley here and I'm finally back after a Loooong hiatus! A lot of things has happened but anyways! We have new members! Valerie." Tucker shows Valerie to the chat. "Oh come On..." Valerie says and winks at the camera. "There's Dash! He's my Brother now! Cool innit." Tucker says and Dash waves at the Camera.

"Danny and Dante as you all know from Before—" Tucker reads one of the messages. "Where's Sam...? Uhm..." They looked at each other and Valerie spoke up and walked over to the Set-up to talk to Chat. "Unfortunately Sam has passed due to... An accident. It took a long while for us to move on and Grieve and that why Tucker Here took long to post again." Valerie says as she Drank the rest of her Coffee and walked back to beside Dante.

"Yep! Thank you Valerie for Telling the viewers but yes! We're back as always! Soon I might introduce you all to our Grandparents!" Tucker says and Dash and Him continues to chat and talk to the viewers, "I missed this yk... It's been a long time since we've.. streamed stuff actually —" Danny says with a gentle gaze and Dante ruffles his hair.

"Ofcourse I Know that Danny. For now let's have fun." Dante says and also finished drinking his coffee. "Gasp! Hello First Subscriber! CoffeeAddictDrake!" Tucker waves at the Camera. "You remember our first subscriber?" Danny asks as he rolls his wheelchair over to the camera. "ofcourse! He's the one who always gave mone— 500$ WOW— GODDAMN— it's not even 5 minutes yet—" Tucker looks shock and the rest Laughing.

"It's been a while chat! It's me Danny as always, I'm kinda disabled and Gay now but that's fine. I know you guys haven't met my twin Brother Dante. Cmere Dan." Danny looked over to Dante who sighs and Went over to Danny. "Sup Chat." His voice was deeper than Danny's and he was more muscular and built unlike Danny who was more and I qoute "Twink" build.

"Oop chat's going crazy again—" Dash Blurts out as everyone was going crazy over Dan who still hand fixed his messy hair and still half naked with an unbuttoned shirt. "Damn. We went from a thousand viewers and 500 subscribers to 4k Subscribers and Riding and a few thousand Viewers because and Val and Dan. 'is he single?' Uh Yes Chat but I think Valerie wants to fuck him—" Danny blurts out and Dante just stunned.

"If you gave me the opportunity I would." Valerie states and Chat went even crazier. "Damn. This went from Oh Welcome Back introduction to Oh my God people are Simping over you, your brother and Valerie. And Dash is also simping on you so that's something els— oh damn—" chat going crazier.

"Anyways— Let's all calm down- alright??" Tucker says and Valerie chuckled and walked out, Dante just sighs and sat beside Danny's Wheelchair as Dash, Danny and Tucker Went on about Technology and how they're in Gotham for an Hour or 2. Dante slept in his seat as they did so. "And that's all for today! Thank you for watching!" Tucker says "we'll see you again soon." Danny bows his head and smiles. "make Em go Viral if Possible since they're such Fanatics of Wayne Enterprises Technology and Tucker to Tim Drake." Dante laughed.

"If I got the opportunity to Date Tim Drake I'd take it and become a househusband." Tucker says with pure determination, "Then you'd be my brother In Law—" Danny blurts out which chat tries to question but Dante distracted them with unbuttoning his shirt more. It was effective.

"I'm not even surprised.." Dash mutters and waved good bye to the camera and they turned off the stream. They soon heard Dash's Grandma calling for them downstairs as Lunch was Ready. "Just in time! YAY! FOOD!" Tucker stood up excitedly and ran out the door. Dante let Dash push the wheelchair for now as he fixed his shirt and ties his hair back up. Dash was pleased as Danny kept chattering about more stuff in Technology and Dash listening to everything. "Smitten son of a—" Dante glared at Dash who was looking at Danny with "Those Eyes" that clockwork also used to look at Vlad. Dante shuddered slightly and scoffed.

[𝙽𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢]

"Good Morning Chat! It's a new Day! It's a new discovery— Tim Drake's official account subscribed to me and I couldn't be more happier." Tucker says as he leans on his Chair, "Good morning Chat." Dante says whilst Hair wet and Shirtless, "Damn those abs." Valerie blurts out. "Please stop simping for my brother Infront of me— anyways Morning Chat! Today we will talk about more nerd stuff! Specifically Aerospace Engineering because why not we're nerds, and there's two non nerds behind us—" SLAP. "VALERIE— DO NOT SLAP MY ASS—" Dante yells and Valerie laughing. "That's normal, I'm not even gonna Bother—" Dash falls asleep again resting his head On Danny's Shoulder. "that's not normal but I'm not gonna move nontheless" Danny smiles.

"Uhm chat says uhh...Check... Tiktok? Alright—" Tucker opens TikTok and let's it stream. "ARE THOSE THIRST TRAPS OF DANTE—" Tucker yelled in shock. "WHAT THE— WDYM??" Dante looked over at the screen and in total shock. "Goodness of the Ancients.." Dante mutters slowly falling back down to his seat and Danny laughing his ass off until he sees a Thirst Trap of himself in a "Before and After" Edit. "Pardon Me for Laughing—" Danny mutters regretfully. Tucker was stuttering and questioning chat on how they even made these within a day.

"This is so fun." Danny laughs at Tucker who was mentally overloading.

This was so fun.. Danny smiles softly.

[𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚘𝚗]

Danny and Dante were with Valerie touring around the City Malls whilst Dash and Tucker was left to the Manor Streaming and Letting Grandma and Grandpa Join the streams. They hinted that the Three icons were out for the day Around Gotham. "This city is both amazing, terrifying and Largely fucked—" Valerie says as she's looking around. "Oh right? When are you guys gonna look for your Biological Family?" Valerie looks at them. "Probably never— I mean... He already has a lot of children—" Danny mutters, "And I heard the youngest is a bit Feral so I'd rather not deal with another Ellie." Dante scoffs as he picked out a book from the shelf in the Store. "Fair reasons but he has to atleast know you guys exist." Valerie tries to reason but Danny shook his head.

"I'd rather not have it like that... I want to stay in low profile and a normal life for longer, I prefer the silent warmth of the mansion." Danny says with a soft gaze and Dante nodding in agreement. "Vlad is still getting my Bike transfered here because it's my favorite and first Bike. Hopefully it doesn't come back Damaged." Dante sighs and drinks from Valerie's Straw. "Uhm that's stealing." Valerie complains as he practically is drinking from her cup. "Doesn't matter. Don't care." Dante chuckles. "Please stop flirting behind me for Ancient's Sake.." Danny groans sarcastically as he rolled his eyes and raised his legs to cross them to add more sass.

"Tucker says he'll vlog tommorow around Gotham, you wanna join?" Valerie asks Danny as she ruffled his hair, "Ofcourse I do! It's fun." Danny smiles and giggled. "You sweet summer child." Valerie kept ruffling his hair. "Jesus Christ, Ancient's Mercy, I am not a sweet summer Child—" Danny says annoyed and embarrassed. "Uh-huh. Right..." Dante says Sarcastically. "Ugh.." Danny groans and Gave up as Valerie kept Fondling and ruffling his poor hair.

Danny was thinking about what he said yesterday. Hopefully someone doesn't take it seriously... I mean Only Tim Drake-Wayne is subscribed to them yeah— hopefully he didn't notice that thing he did. Confessing indirectly was such a stupid move, he feels like an idiot for doing that as that could risk his wish for a normal unbothered life away from the public. Please don't let them find out. Please please please. Ancients have Mercy don't let the Phantom Luck Hit Now and Make the world find out He and Dante are Wayne's Biological sons. That'll be the worst.

Dante gave Danny a cup of Milk tea he just bought. "Ease Up Danny." Dante reassures Danny as he drinks the boba tea happily, The three just tours around the Mall with Danny still on the wheelchair but it's fine, atleast he can still float, not walk anymore though that's still upsetting him but it's fine, hell get used to it as he always does.

[𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚃𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚊𝚜𝚑]

"Why did Danny call my brother in-law when I talked about the marrying Tim Drake Wayne? Uhh... Out of Wedlock Child." Tucker mutters, "Danny sometimes looks like a victorian child in the edge of Deaths Blade." Dash speaks up to try and distract chat. "That's true! Yeah he does! It's normal tho! He's just really pale and ever since the accident with the electricity as you all know we've talked about it cuz that's how he got his Lichtenberg scar, his Heart is barely detectable by the Heart Monitors! Now he's even more slightly sickly more than before ever since an accident." Tucker says

"Yeah! And it left him unable to walk but we're here to help him at his needs ofcourse." Dash finger guns the camera as he spun his chair. "Oh Cujo— OH MY GOD— TUCKER—" Dash yells as he looks at the door. "OH FU— WAIT CHAT—" Tucker turns off the Camera. "CUJO! PUT THAT STICK DOWN! IT LITERALLY HAS FIRE ANTS! PUT IT BACK outside OR DANNY AND VAL WILL GET REALLY UPSET." tucker yells and Cujo whimpers and whined in compliance as he... Threw back the tree log outside again.

Tucker turned on the camera again and looks stressed. "Anyways Chat. Meet our Dog Cujo." Dash raises cujo to the camera and made his paw wave at the Camera. "he's kind of a demon spawn...." Tucker whispers to the Camera. "Aw come on! Look at his cute face! He's so cute..." Dash says as he made Cujo that's in large Pitbull Dog Form wave at the camera, Cujo licking Dash's Face, "you're such a cutie pie! Yes you are, you're such a good boy, who's a good boy? You are! You are" dash coos and Tucker sighed.

"Don't mind him chat he loves the dog as much as he loves Danny." Tucker says Loudly which Made Dash flush red, "TUCKER!! You don't JUST SAY THAT!!" Dash yells his face tomato red as Cujo kept licking his face and Tucker laughing at him as he buried his face on Cujo's chest Fur in Embarrasament. "WHAT IF DANNY SEES THIS!! IM NOT READY TO CONFESS!!" Dash groaned and Tucker laughed Louder.

"Look at that guy! He's so jock like he's Embarrassed about being gay for someone." Tucker Snorts and Dash tackled him from Behind, Both boys now Wrestling Like Brothers and Cujo Barking and Playing around them thinking they're playing and Tucker Laughing his Ass Off as Dash still looked like a red and ripe tomato.

Hopefully this type of happiness lasts forever... Even if not forever please let it be long. Tucker hopes that it lasts long so they can enjoy the last bits of childhood they can have.

Let them Have fun just for a longer while.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny phantom fandom #dcu #dp x dc #ao3 #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp fanfic #dcxdp fic #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #danny fenton x dash baxter #wholesome #world building #world building moment. it'll take a while for some specific parts i wanna write hehe.

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blu3-j · 1 year ago

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Welcome...Home..?

Overworked! GN! Reader X Welcome Home Crew

Chapter 1

TW: none

The beginning of a grand new friendship, and a bunch of new adventures yet to come. It appears as though our main character has yet to see just what they're about to go through. Such a busy bee!

Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4

You slowly trudged up the steps of your porch, completely exhausted. Work has been awfully busy lately, with customers constantly coming in and out and being...."fun", as your boss put it. Not only that, but the workload your college classes have been putting on you lately has been overbearing! You've barely had any time to yourself. You haven't had time to indulge in your favorite hobbies, talk to any of your friends, or even look much at social media. It was a constant race to get things done and keep that money you so desperately needed rolling in.

You slid the key in the keyhole and turned. The door clicked open and a dark, dusty house welcomed you. An exasperated sigh sounded from you. Unfortunately, with your busy schedule, you also haven't had much time to clean your house.

You had been passed down your house from your great grandparents, who had both passed away a few years back. It was completely paid off, and even had some forest property to go along with it! Unfortunately, it was also pretty far in the forest, so you had to get up a bit extra early to make it anywhere on time. It also took up quite a bit of gas to get anywhere from there. You would move in with somebody to make it easier on yourself, but you didn't have many friends that lived in town anymore. None of the ones that did wanted or needed a roommate. Additionally, being a skeptic and cautious person led to not trusting many people on the internet. There was always a chance they would screw you over or possibly even murder you. You never knew.

Thud!

You dropped your heavy bag on the floor and your stomach, quick to catch the cue, growled. There was barely a thing in the fridge for ready-made food, and all of your dishes were dirty and disgusting. Even the thought of taking the time to wash them all made you feel more exhausted than you already were. The pantry didn't have much, either, but there was one thing that you could make in a few minutes without any extra work needed. Instant noodle cups.

"I really do play into the broke, tired college kid stereotype, huh?" You grumbled as you grabbed a cup from the pantry. It only took a few minutes, but you decided upon waiting for it to finish cooking to turn to the living room. The tv was dusty and rarely used, but you figured with the little free time you had you would watch something. "Anything to get my mind off of those Susans and Karens I have to face at work." The remote sat lonely in its spot on the tv stand as you walked over and picked it up. The screen was full of static for a moment, then to a news broadcast station. Humming, you flicked through the various stations, eventually settling on the most colorful one of them all.

A children's cartoon had just ended, and the colorful characters were saying their final goodbyes to the viewers.

"Maybe something simple will let me veg out for a bit. I don't need anything complicated right now." A small ding from the kitchen caught your attention. "Sounds like the noodles are done." One last mumble came from you as you turned your back to the tv and walked away. "My brain is already fried enough as is." When you got back and plopped down on your couch, a new cartoon had popped up. You figured it was a cartoon, anyway, from the extremely colorful title card. "Welcome Home" it read. "Must be a new show."

The colorful title card faded away and the camera panned down to a live set. The colorful scene caught your attention in full, and you felt yourself almost entranced. A house in the middle of a small neighborhood with eyes stared the viewer down with a supposedly friendly gaze. It waved with a window shutter before opening the door to the viewer as the camera wandered in. Inside, sitting at a canvas and easel was a small yellow puppet. He was humming away the show's friendly tune, slowly squeezing paint onto his palette. Finally, he noticed the viewer.

"Oh, hello, neighbor!" He waved to the viewer. His voice was gentle and slightly monotone. Strange, as he seems to be the main character. "Don't they usually have the main character of children's shows as more extraverted and full of energy and emotion?" "I was just about to start painting a lovely new painting for my friend Barnaby." He hummed and grabbed a brush, but hesitated upon moving to dip it in the paints. His gaze went back to the viewer, and he laughed. It was just as monotone as his usual voice, but what was even more off-putting was it being almost robotic in nature. "Oh, no. Thinking about it, I actually don't know what to paint." The handle tip of the brush was put against his cheek as the small puppet thought. "Say, neighbor," He looked back at the viewer. The small puppet's gaze distracted you from your food.

"That's weird...why does it feel...?" "As though he's looking directly at me?"

"Do you have any ideas? I'm sure there's some great ones in that head of yours!" His grin widened. Is that even possible for a puppet? You decided to remain quiet and stare back at him, completely entranced by the dark pools of his eyes. One minute went by. Then two. It wasn't until a third went by when you realized he hadn't gone back to painting. He was still staring, quiet and patient. "Neighbor?" The monotone voice caught you off gaurd, and you jumped in your seat. The puppet laughed and his gaze fell away from you for a moment. Just one. "Oh, no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" You felt your blood run cold as he spoke once again, his voice even more gentle and ominous than before. Are you just that tired? Are you dreaming? You must be! "I can see you, you know." There it was again. That same, monotone laugh. His voice went back to normal. "That's okay if you don't want to answer me! It must be so strange for you. That I can see you. That I'm talking to you. But you don't have to worry! I won't hurt you!" The yellow puppet's eyes went wide. "Oh! I have an idea, now! You gave me the perfect idea, neighbor! I'll paint you!"

A breath left your lungs as you watched him turn his attention back to his canvas and start painting. One you hadn't realized you'd been holding. He hummed the show's tune once more as he went to painting on his canvas. It would be comforting, if it wasn't for the fact he was indeed painting your unlit living room.

"It's nice to have a new neighbor." He mumbled out just loud enough for you to hear. "Not many come to visit anymore." He glanced back at you for a moment before he went back to painting. "Oh, silly me, I forgot to introduce myself! I was too excited...I'm Wally. Wally Darling." The puppet, as you now knew as Wally, went silent. Not even a theme song played in the background. Just the silence of his livingroom...and his occasional humming.

Time rolled by. After a while, it almost felt like normal. Like you two had known each other for a while and were just on some sort of quiet camera call. Your tense shoulders eventually relaxed, and although you were still too cautious to speak to the puppet, your eyelids slowly, ever so slowly, shut. Overworking yourself had gotten to you, and no longer could your body continue to stay awake. A small, gentle, monotone voice called to you. So small, you barely noticed. So gentle, it sealed the final nail in you falling into the deep depths of dreams.

"Goodnight, neighbor."

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roomwithanopenfire · 6 months ago

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Six Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday Everyone!! Thanks to @monbons for tagging me, so excited for the next chapter of your fic!

I've been having a really good week, I finished up all my finals and all my papers, and I moved all my stuff out of my dorm room—meaning I'm back home now and ready for summer! I have two weeks before my main summer job starts, so that means a lot of time for writing! And I've already gotten a start by having a super productive week writing-wise this week as well (finally got some solid work in on my COBB fic, turns out getting some vampire name inspo from @fiend-for-culture and seeing the first peek of the artwork really brought back all my excitement for this wip!!!)

I'm posting the newest chapter of Proof of Life tomorrow, which is one that I'm super excited to share. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter in my backlog, so I'll have take a small posting break after this, but that just means that if you haven't had a chance to start reading yet, you have time to catch up 🙃

But even more exciting news! I realized that I missed the 2 year anniversary of the first fanfic I wrote for this fandom! After reading all three Carry On books, I absolutely devoured fanfiction for probably around 6 months before ever writing my own. And the only reason I wrote anything was because I had a scene absolutely stuck in my head, and no one else had written it yet. So honor of being a month late to it's birthday, here are 6ish sentences from the first fanfic I wrote: Tense Silence (under the cut because this is already getting long):

“You’re a vampire.” says Simon. His voice came from above me. “You really are.”

I look up to see Simon standing, staring down at me. He has the Sword of Mages in one hand and the silver cross dangling in the other. It is very close to my face. I turn my head away. He moves the cross closer. I close my eyes as I smell the metal hanging merely centimetres away from me.

“You tried to bite me.” He says. “You really tried to drink my blood.”

As you can see, I started out the fandom almost exactly where I ended up—writing angsty vampire Baz fics. While there's some things that I would do differently now and a few noticeable mistakes (Simon's cross is gold not silver, Past Lily, get it right!), I'm still really proud of this fic. I remember spending weeks working on it and being very nervous to post this 6k fic, so it's definitely kind of crazy to look back it and see how much I've grown as a writer, and how many friends I've made in fandom since then.

Tags & Hellos!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @artsyunderstudy

@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @shrekgogurt @brendughh @a-maisie-ng @hertragedyconnoisseur

@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs

@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife

@arthurkko @rbkzz

#no snippet from proof of life today :(#but i trust that you all are excited for the chapter anyway #and if you haven't started reading it yet you should!!#it's my favorite thing i've written so far!#six sentence sunday #tense silence #my writing #kind of crazy that about two years ago i had written no fanfiction #and now i have over 150k words posted #snowbaz fanfiction

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triptychgrip · 13 days ago

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Story Preview: Yuuri vs. Yurio on Hot Ones Versus

“And that’s already ten extra dollars in my pocket!” Mila gleefully called out, referring to the bet that she, Georgi, Sara, and Otabek were all in on.

“Why are you even here again?” Yura dryly lobbed back. “Katsudon gets his lovesick husband plus Kenjirou to fan him, mop his sweaty brow, and generally fuss over his well-being, while you’re just…what? Here to heckle and wish for my downfall?”

As Yuuri suspected he would, Viktor took this opening to gasp, theatrically, throwing a hand to his forehead like a storybook maiden that had just heard an earnestly breathless confession of love.

“Yura, I never knew you wished for me to fuss over you!” he cried, swaying a bit on his feet as if dizzied by the prospect. “And all this time, I believed you repulsed by my protective inclinations!”

The subsequent profanity-laden sentence from Yura would most definitely have to be bleeped out in the final cut, and Yuuri took a second to quiet his laughter before reaching for the first card in his pile.

“Ok, Yura…for round 1.”

He read it silently to himself, fighting the urge to giggle; it was actually a good thing Mila was here, because she’d be able to join him in calling Yura out if he tried to lie while answering.

“Before you left Russia to begin training here in Japan – a move that was catalyzed by your missing Viktor and I so very dearly once we’d left –” (Yuuri paused and grinned when Kenjirou whooped, delightedly) “– you were known as a little bit of a bully at Yubileyny, in particular towards the local hockey teams that occasionally rented out the ice. Describe the meanest thing you ever did to haze a fellow rinkmate or hockey player.”

A vivid memory of Yakov screaming his head off over a rather unfortunate hair dye incident floated to the forefront of Yuuri’s mind and he took a second to bask in the recollection.

“Or…feel free to eat a death wing," he finished, firmly.

After seeing my Vanity Fair Lie Detector game fic do so well, I've decided to continue my post-canon media appearance antics by writing another face-off, this time taking place betwwen Yuuri and Yurio as they battle each other/"the wings of death" while taping an episode of Hot Ones Versus.

If you enjoy the idea of their friendly rivalry, highly sappy/extra Viktuuri moments, and questions/answers that illuminate how our favorite character dynamics might have evolved a few years post-canon, I invite you to be on the lookout for this story, which I hope to upload to ao3 sometime in November (probably after I update my Olympics-focused WIP/series).

I haven't yet decided if I want this to be a very long one-shot or a 2-chapter fic, but in any event, folks who've read my other work probably know that shortfic is really hard for me…I really struggle to keep things brief and with something like this, I can't imagine it being anything less than 5-8K words in length. Especially because I want to include Viktor, Yuuri and Yuri’s POVs.

Lol…hope you’ll cheer me on and in the meantime, I’ve written lots of other (mostly post-canon) Yuri!!! on Ice fic you may want to check out.

#story preview #post canon yuri on ice #my wips #my writing #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #yuri on ice fanfiction #katsuki yuuri #yuri plisetsky #yuuri katsuki #viktuuri #victuuri

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theyluvlyss · 19 days ago

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𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐝🙂...

1. tonight, I went to go see the black phone in theaters again (one time showing only typa deal, at least where I live, for those curious ig lol) and y'know,,, I've always known this one thing about myself, which is that my brain LOVES the theater. she loves going, she loves the loudness, the atmosphere, she loves it all, even if (clearly) she's seen the movie already. because of this silly little fact, and because I went to go see this silly little movie tonight, as I lay in the comforts of my warm bed and drink my dr.pep and eat my vanilla ice cream...

my brain all the while had apparently been working overtime behind my back. just as my head hit the pillow, she practically punched me in the throat with a fic idea that I just can't pass up. but I fear I have trouble committing, so I cannot promise it'll even come into fruition, let alone get finished. but on the off chance it does and I do... I will leave anyone reading right now with these...

north denver, 1982 (or 3, idk)...

reader is new to town, dresses like a freak, and absolutely does witchy spiritual stuff...

ghost boys reach out to the reader...

something with finney and gwen, the grabber, idk maybe max, too, add in a bit of angst, love, hurt, comfort, allat junk *inahles*...

😃✋🏼it's all a jumbled kerfuffle of thoughts from there, and I'd lowkey like it to be a full blown, multiple part/series/chapter FIC fr, yk? IDKIDK but I see a vision and...yeah. do y'all see the vision?

...am I crazy😀?

moving on😌☝🏽...

2. sooner or later (hopefully sooner, though) I will be binging/rewatching life is strange 1 and 2 playthroughs, which will then allow me to add a masterlist for some of the characters I've been wanting to write about for a very long time now, which means requests for those characters will be open once I do (not yet, though lol) :D!!

I've done my fair share of fic reading back when wattpad was my main app, and while they were good for the time, lord knows I haven't touched that app in years and I'm NOT going back. but, unfortunately, there's not a lot of fics on here to read (my heart shattered into pieces when I looked up sean diaz's name and there was basically nothing😔💔) and I don't like fooling around with other fic sites, so, as usual, I must be the one to fill the void left both on this app and in my heart.

you're welcome🤭✨️ (kidding, ish-).

anyways, that's about it for now (other than the 80+ requests I'm working on currently), thanks for reading whatever this is you wanna call it, byeeeee /ᐠ-з-マ/.

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ahkylous · 1 year ago

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Drifting Stars Masterlist

I have never made a post like this, I have no clue what I'm doing, let's go!

SO, drifting stars is one of the best Gravity Falls au's in my unprofessional opinion. But unfortunately, fanfictions are hard to come by, not to mention finished ones. But lucky for you I have way too much time on my hands and have managed to hunt down all drifting stars fanfics on Ao3 that I can find and make one masterpost of all the ones I think are worth your time.

This is gonna be in a general order of least favourite to favourite.

I’m Afraid of the Dark (But I’m Obsessed with Ideas) by TiredWriter810. - oneshot, 910 words, 1/?

So far there's only one of these oneshots and due to what I'm calling The Drifting Stars Curse, I have doubts that there will be any more. I thought it was cute, it's quick so there's not much plot but it has potential.

Ten Years by FullmetalReborn - standalone, 9 753 words, 2/?

This takes place after Mabel and Ford get back, which is one of my favourite concepts. It focuses on Dipper and Mabels relationship and is very realistic in that sense. Despite what the chapters say, this one is finished, or at least ends on a note that can be considered finished.

A Broken Star by Aceofstars16 - oneshot, 1 401 words, 1/1

This one was also set after Mabel and Ford get back and focuses on their relationship, it was just really sweet. It was a little cliché and almost too much for me in terms of comfort (that’s on me guys, in reality it’s not that much I just have issues) but still deserves to be on this list.

Stars Aren't the Only Things That Glitter by NovelistServant - oneshots, 10 465 words, 4/4

These are written really well, the first one is by far the best but the others are still worth a read. This one is finished since they are oneshots but unfortunately leave you wanting more. But again, the first one is amazing.

An Encounter While Breaking Out of Prison by amadscientistapproaches - 2nd part of a series, 10 074 words, 2/4

This fanfic is not entirely a drifting stars one and is a crossover with Dimension Jumper AU where an oc that I have mixed feelings about is introduced. This part specifically does not mention her but if that au is your thing then read the first part before this one. I just loved the writing style and the whole prison chaos.

OSAS - Main Story, Prologues, Epilogues, and More by LesbianLucretia - series (3 parts), 24 890 words, 1/1, 1/1, 4/?

This one is different to the stereotypical drifting stars idea and I was so there for it, it's nice to see people being creative since it is the multiverse and anything can hadplen. Essentially Mabel doesn't find Ford and has to survive by herself for some amount of years before finding him. The last story got me hooked and I wanted very badly to see how Ford and Mabel's relationship developed but of course, the curse.

What Matters More by RamblesandDragons - oneshot, 3 067 words, 1/1

I loved this oneshot, it was well written and just generally had a good storyline. It's stereotypical in the sense that something bad happens to Mabel but I dont care I still liked it. I feel like the ending could have been done better but don't let that put you off of reading it.

A Shooting Star May Fall by Yatzstar - standalone, 29 479 words, 8/?

This was actually really good, and somewhat adorable. The plotline had so much potential with Bill and everything, there was a level of the story there that I haven't seen before yet alone considered when it comes to drifting stars. It does end on a cliffhanger but there are still some really good Mabel and Ford bonding scenes throughout so do check it out.

Mabel's Guide to The Multiverse by PresidentStalkeyes - oneshot, 6 545 words, 1/1

I loved this. I loved this so much. It was so awesome and written in a way that just makes it so much cooler and more interesting. I love the idea of Mabel getting her hands on a camera and Ford doing his best at being a good uncle. It was just so unexpectedly good.

Drifting Stars by the_subpar_ghost - standalone, 33 003 words, 15/?

This. This is the fic that started it all. This is the fic that I read in two nights and then cried over because it's not finished. Not only did it start it all but it's also just so good. Even if it wasn't the og I would still put it high up on this list. I owe everything to the_subpar_ghost.

Senior Season by orphan_account - standalone, 85 549 words, 18/29

I have no words for this. I would die for this fanfiction, everything about it is just *chefs kiss*. The characterisation of Mabel and Ford, the funny little quotes and comments the two make, everything they do when they travel around the multiverse just showing how long they've been out there. It even mentions things I have never heard mentioned ever in a fanfiction. It's so honest and funny and addicting and I would jump in front of a bullet to save this fanfiction. The cliffhanger does suck but I found it somewhat bearable since I can kinda see where it ends up going. But this is it, this is the fic that outshines them all.

I legally cannot have an opinion on these last ones since I haven't finished/started reading them but I'll put them here anyway.

Ad Astra by Queen_Mab - standalone, 103 406 words, 18/?

So far, I think this fic is good. The story is well developed and so are some of the characters which is more I can say for a lot of fanfictions I have read in my lifetime. I am only on chapter 9 so I still have a fair bit left but Mabel is just so adorable in this and there is a lot going on back at Gravity Falls and I'm so into it.

The Drifting Star by Booblybaba - standalone, 35 337 words, 15/?

So I have not started reading this one yet but when I came across it I checked the ending to see if it was on a cliffhanger and if I should bother reading it. Lo and behold, it ended on a cliffhanger, but I still have hopes for this since the writing style looks really good and with that many chapters there's sure to be some good Ford and Mabel content.

So yeah! Feel free to add any fanfics I might have missed. I don't mean to offend anyone, this is just what I personally thought while reading some these and if you disagree then that's fine.

Also there's a part two of this list now, whaaaat?!?!??!

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animatorweirdo · 7 months ago

Text

When the Dragons Fly (book 2)

After returning to your village, you tried to urge everyone to prepare and flee, but of course, desperation and false hope ended up fulfilling the worst scenario from your dream.

Chapter 17

Warnings: mentions of the war, dead people, mourning, desperation, reader trying hard to keep everyone safe, Aelon worried about Maedhros, comfort, arguing, snapping at people, orc attack, violence, houses getting burned, getting burned, trying to save Eweniel's parents, and burning everything.

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The whole village was in mourning.

After you returned with Mika, Helena was surprised yet glad to see him, and then everyone came around you as you shared how the battle had come to a devastating loss with Mika confirming everything you two had witnessed. The people reacted with sorrow and some even with denial, thinking you two had shared a cruel joke, unfortunately for them, it was no joke when the village men did not return the next day.

Some of the people became more complicit when you urged them to prepare and flee toward the south since the orcs were sure to march and invade after such a victory, but some hoped to remain and wait for possible survivors. It was false hope because you saw how Hadar and the rest of the village men were swallowed in the battle. There was a low chance they were ever coming back.

A day has passed since the battle that has now come to be known as the Niraneth Arnoediad, or the Battle of Unnumbered Tears.

Only a few of the village men who left came back. Their return brought a little joy, but then they shared how legions of orcs were marching out of Angband, ready to conquer all of northern Belerian now that the Noldor were defeated.

It only made you anxious and put more effort into making the people leave sooner, but unfortunately, some of the villagers still wanted to stay despite the news the surviving men had brought.

Since some of the villagers needed time to pack their things and prepare for a long journey, you spent the time looking through the maps, searching for a suitable route that would lead you safely to the southern lands. Luckily, you found a route that led through the mountains and took you to Himlad, from there you could continue toward east Beleriand and find a new home.

After most of the preparations were finished, you and Aelon went to the mountains to clean and pack up the things in the stable. You were filled with anxiety and felt frustrated by the people’s stubbornness to stay despite the dangers, so you silently complained about it.

"They could be here any moment, yet those people still insist on waiting for possible survivors," you murmured while saddling Balearia. Aelon was packing most of the food in baskets.

"I can understand the pain of losing people, but this is false hope. They should take this more seriously. It is a wonder the orcs haven't found us already. Our village might be hidden, but it's only a matter of time before we are found and pillaged from everything,” you said after tightening the straps on your saddle.

Aelon watched as you picked up one of the baskets and dropped the food to the floor, allowing Aegar, Viserya, and Smoke to eat to their heart’s content since you did not have enough room to take everything in the stable.

"(Name). Did Nelyo make it out of the battle?" Aelon asked, breaking the silence.

"It was a bit difficult to see, but he escaped with the rest of his forces at the end of the battle,” you answered.

"I hope he's okay," Aelon mumbled quietly.

You looked at him as he quietly tightened the ropes around the baskets. The frustration you felt subsided when you saw silent worry in his eyes.

"I'm sure he's okay. He is a capable warrior," you stated.

“What will happen now that we have to run away?” Aelon questioned, looking at you.

“We will most likely have to find a new home, for us and our dragons. It will be difficult as there are fewer mountains in the south and we will most likely be seen when we fly,” you explained. “But everything will be alright, as long as we get on the road in time,” you added, trying to sound assuring.

“Will we ever see Nelyo again?” Aelon asked.

You thought about it for a moment before answering.

“We have to focus on getting ourselves on the road first. But once we find a new home and survive through the winter, we can try to go looking for him,” you said.

“With such a defeat, I do not think he will try to remain in Himring, especially when Morgoth is sending all his forces to take over the north,” you explained.

“Help me pack up the food. The sooner we’re done, the faster we can leave,” you said as you two then spent the day cleaning up the table, getting everything ready for a long journey.

When night fell, the village remained awake. Some people feared an orc attack and hurriedly continued packing their belongings. Most villagers were ready to depart, gathering on the outskirts of the village, prepared to follow the road leading to the nearest town. However, to your frustration, some still wished to stay, either to wait for survivors or under the delusion that the village was hidden enough to keep you all safe from the orcs.

You were currently engaged in a heated argument with the village chief and the remaining villagers who insisted on staying another day.

“We have already wasted enough time waiting for survivors. We can’t waste another day, we need to leave for the town tonight. The dark lord’s orcs could be here any minute. It's only a miracle that they haven’t found us already,” you argued with the people.

“But they haven’t found us yet. We could stay safe in the village,” someone said.

“They’re most likely busy claiming the most important locations of the north, then they will wash over the rest of the land for its resources. This village will not remain hidden forever. If we do not go now, we will be trapped here,” you argued.

“But my son or husband haven’t still returned. What if they are alive and can’t find us if we leave?” someone said.

“They are most likely already dead. It will be suicide if we wait another day for people who might never return. We have to prioritize our safety first,” you said.

Aelon watched with Eweniel as you kept arguing with the people.

"It’s getting hectic,” Eweniel stated as the two sat on the steps of your porch. Helena, Mika, and their mother talked behind them, checking all the necessities for the journey. Dwenn was waiting by a carriage with his horses, helping Eda load the boxes and other items.

Aelon looked around and noticed Eweniel’s parents were not outside.

“Where are your parents?” he questioned.

“They’re inside our house. They wanted to discuss a few things and my mother wanted to rest her eyes. The fear and the stress are starting to take a toll on her,” Eweniel explained.

Aelon then recalled the dream he had shared with you, where everything burned, and orcs ran rampant throughout the village, causing havoc and death.

“You know, I had a dream where our entire village was engulfed in flames,” Aelon revealed. “There were orcs everywhere, and even your house was on fire,” he explained.

“Now that’s grim. What could it mean?” Eweniel remarked.

“(Name) actually saw it too. Since the battle was lost, it might have been a premonition of what might come next, especially if we don’t leave soon,” Aelon answered.

“Well, let’s hope it won’t come to pass. But your sister seems serious about having us leave as soon as possible. Look, even Figwitt has packed his things and come to the side of the village with Greeny in his hands,” Eweniel pointed at Figwitt, who was sitting on a rock with a bag next to him and Greeny on his lap.

Aelon held his hand on his sword, thinking about the possible danger. His mind then returned to Nelyo, or Maedhros as his real name was after you told him. He could not help but feel worried for himself and the things to come. He hoped that this time the dream would not come true.

With you, the arguing bore no fruit.

“I'm telling you, we should leave now while we still have the chance. Staying here any longer will only bring death and suffering,” you insisted.

“It’s our families' lives we're talking about. We can't just abandon them and leave them to return to an empty village,” the woman countered.

“Even if someone did return, there wouldn't be a village left for them to come back to,” you argued.

“I think you're being too paranoid. We'd still be in danger if we left,” someone interjected, causing you to slowly lose patience.

“Enough! Enough!” the village chief declared before you could continue arguing.

“We are in possible danger, and we have already waited for a few days for people to return,” he explained, and you felt relieved.

“Chief, you can’t possibly consider abandoning our home and those who might still return,” the woman exclaimed.

“As much as it pains me to say it, we can’t stay here. We have no means to defend ourselves, so our best chance is to leave. But to give those who might still be alive time, I will wait until morning. After that, we will begin our journey to the south,” he explained, and you looked at him with a frown.

“Chief… we do not have time until morning. These creatures do not rest during the night. This is literally a perfect chance for them to attack,” you said.

“We have been blessed two days without an attack, and I hear your concern. That’s why we will leave at the crack of dawn. We might still be lucky to stay not attacked till morning,” he tried to assure you.

“Luck will only get us so far. This is false hope. I saw how all the people were massacred in that battle. The chances for them to survive something like that are literally zero. Even if they are alive, they have most likely been turned into the dark lord’s thralls,” you explained.

The woman you argued with shook her head and glared at you. “Can you stop with your constant paranoia? The decision has been made,” she said.

“Now, listen here…” you started, but then all of you were disrupted by the sound of a woman’s scream.

Everyone in the village looked toward the way where the woman’s scream came from with confusion and fright, and then the roof of a house was set on fire.

“They’re already here…” you uttered.

A pack of warg-riding orcs emerged from the shadows. Their mocking laughter filled the air as they rained flaming arrows upon the houses, setting them ablaze.

The villagers began screaming and running away from the orcs, but some were swiftly killed by those who rode upon wargs and shot down by arrows.

Aelon shot up when he saw the orcs, pulling out his sword in fear.

The members of the Watchmen began shooting back at the orcs and the warriors Hadar left behind tried to fight back, but without proper preparation, they were swiftly outnumbered and killed one by one.

You swiftly unsheathed your sword and killed two of the coming orcs. You then slashed down on a warg rider that lunged at you, killing the warg and causing the rider to fall. You then quickly plunged your sword into the rider’s chest, killing the orc on the spot.

You glanced toward the village chief and the people who argued with you. “Go! Get everyone out of here!” you ordered and they began running toward the woods.

You looked toward the Watchmen and whoever was defending the village.

"Archers, fall back to the left and right flanks! Aim the wargs and their riders!" you bellowed, rallying the attention of those wielding bows. "Swordsmen, protect the fleeing villagers at all costs!" you directed toward those armed with swords.

"Spearmen with shields, assemble with me! Form a defensive line!" you commanded, swiftly organizing the defenders into position.

Aelon quickly blocked an attack from an incoming orc, and after deflecting the sword away, he plunged the sword into the orc’s chest, spilling blood on his blade and shaking as the orc fell dead on the ground. He stared at the corpse with shaking hands. It was the first time he had ever taken a creature’s life.

“Come on!” Helena yelled as she helped her mother and brother on Dwenn’s wagon. Dwenn prepared to drive away as Eda and other villagers came on board. “Aelon! Ewe! Get on we need to go!” Helena hastened as they waited for them.

“My mom and dad! They’re still inside!” Eweniel yelled as her house was set on fire.

On the front of the attack, the archers began shooting all the wargs and warg riders, while those who held a shield and spear came to you. "Shields to the front, form a solid line!" you ordered, and the defenders with shields swiftly positioned themselves in front of you, ready to meet the oncoming orcs.

“Spears be ready!” you said as a pack of warg riders came charging at you.

“Wait!” you said as you waited for them to get closer.

When the orcs were about to jump over the line, you gave the order. “Spears up!” you yelled and all the spear men then raised their weapons, making the wargs jump down on the sharp ends. The wargs yelped as they were pierced by the spears, bleeding and causing their riders to fall to the ground. You and a few swordsmen quickly killed the riders before they could get up.

Orcs began charging against the line, pushing with ferocious force, but all the shieldsmen pushed back, holding the line. All the spearmen quickly poked their spears over the shields, trying to kill as many orcs as possible.

“Keep the line, do not let them pass till everyone has escaped,” you yelled as you assessed the situation.

More orcs were coming out of the woods, orcs, wargs, and even a few trolls. It seemed Morgoth was releasing all his creatures upon Beleriand after his victory. The line would hold them back for a while, but soon it would be crushed. It was no good. You needed to summon Baleria to burn them down so you had time to escape.

“(Name)! ” Aelon called out to you.

You looked toward your brother and saw him and Eweniel standing in front of her burning house. “Help! Eweniel’s parents are trapped inside!” he yelled.

You turned toward the men. “Keep the line. Kill everything that tries to come through!” you yelled as you then ran toward your brother and Eweniel’s burning house.

“Please do something! They’re still inside!” Eweniel cried as her house was slowly crumbling. You heard coughing coming from inside.

“Stay here!” you said as you ran inside the house.

You covered your mouth to prevent yourself from inhaling the smoke. You looked around the burning house, the heat flaring against your skin.

“Earil! Alen!” you called out to Eweniel’s parents.

“(Name)... here…” you heard Eweniel’s mother call out to you.

You walked through the smoke and came to a room, where you found both Eweniel’s parents crushed under a burning wooden beam. Eweniel’s father lay motionless beneath the burning wood. He was dead because he was burning, but Eweniel’s mother was still alive, coughing and having suffered several burns.

“Don’t worry I help you out of here,” you said as you tried to pick the wooden beam off her. Unfortunately, it was heavier than you thought and you struggled to lift it enough to pull her out.

“No! (Name)! Just go!” Eweniel’s mother coughed as you failed to pick the wooden beam off her. You tried again but then yelled when you felt searing pain through your hands.

You looked down at your hands and saw the burning wooden beam had burned through your gloves, causing red spots to form on your skin.

“There’s no time! (Name) just leave me! “ Eweniel’s mother pleaded. You backed away when the roof seemed it was about to collapse.

“(Name)! Take care of Eweniel! Take care of our daughter!” Eweniel’s mother said as the roof began to fall above you.

“Now go!” she said and then you ran out of the house.

You managed to leave just in time before the whole house collapsed, crushing everything beneath them.

“Mom! Dad!” Eweniel cried when she saw you didn’t come back with them.

You looked toward the line and saw the men being slowly overwhelmed.

“Aelon! Take Eweniel and go!” you ordered.

Aelon dragged the crying Eweniel. She struggled little and the two ran to Dwenn’s wagon who still waited for them. When they got on, Dwenn quickly snapped the reins, forcing the horses to pull the wagon into the woods along with the other escaping villagers.

After making sure they were out of sight, you looked toward the mountains and reached out to Baleria through your bond, telling her to fly down and burn the orcs.

Baleria stomped as she came to the edge of the cliff. She raised her wings and plunged down from the cliff, gliding toward you and the burning village.

When you saw her incoming shadow in the distance and saw no more escaping villagers, you looked toward the remaining defenders.

“Retreat! Run for the woods!” you yelled.

The archers, swordsmen, and everyone began retreating, running as fast as they could away from the orcs and the wargs. You waited for each of them to run into the forest and when the orcs began coming after you. Baleria flew down and released a torrent of fire upon them and all that was still in the village.

The orcs screamed and the wargs howled in pain as they burned alive. Baleria flew around the village and released her breath upon the next wave of enemies that came out of the forest.

You watched as the village burned in a sea of flames. The tree Aelon and his friends usually met under to play games fell to the ground as it burned, Helena’s and the rest of your neighbor's houses collapsed in flames, and now you saw how even your house for the past years burned and collapsed.

Your heart ached painfully by the sight, but the attack had now come to a halt and the orcs didn’t try chasing after you.

You reached through your bond to tell Baleria to return to the mountain after she is done, to wait for your further orders before disappearing into the forest to reunite with the rest of the survivors.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth x reader #when the dragons fly #hotd x reader #hotd #middle earth #silmarillion imagines #various x reader #targaryen reader #silmarillion x targaryen reader #maedhros x reader

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