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theres-a-goldensky · 3 years

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30 More The Untamed Fic Recs

Here we go again. Another Wangxian rec list. Are you bored of me yet?

Were these recs helpful to you? If so, you can check out my other Wangxian rec posts:

Part 1 - 40 recs

Part 2 - 23 recs

Part 3 - 23 recs

As ever, feel free to reblog.

You can also head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

1. say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn - ~69,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Lan Zhan meets Wei Wuxian after he adopts a small A-Yuan, because Wei Wuxian also has a past with him. Lots of adorable family feelings and emotional hurt/comfort.

As often happened, Wei Ying’s voice preceded his entrance, calling to his co-worker through the open door, “Frankie, they forgot to order spoons again, can you hold down the fort a little longer while I —”

Lan Wangji was already looking to his entrance, head turning as if magnetized toward the voice, so he saw the moment when Wei Ying’s eyes landed on A-Yuan and the smile fell from his face. He looked stricken, and Lan Wangji immediately looked to his son in alarm. A-Yuan seemed fine. His small eyebrows were pulled together in a small frown as he looked back at Wei Ying, but that wasn’t surprising, given the expression on Wei Ying’s face. Lan Wangji had seen that face beaming, laughing, whining, wheedling, and occasionally angry, but never like this. He looked blank and hollow and it stirred something fierce in Lan Wangji: he wanted to rise up and obliterate whatever was making him look like that. Then his eyes lifted to Lan Wangji and there was a flash of something almost like betrayal, before he pressed his lips together and turned his back.

“I’m going to run out to the store and get spoons,” he said in a flat voice to his co-worker, and left without looking their way again.

2. the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships - ~41,000 words, mature - This is an AU of the novel where Wei Wuxian puts two and two together when Lan Zhan sneaks that kiss from him. It changes a lot of things.

Against his own will, Wei Wuxian found himself glancing at Lan Wangji’s hands. They were… certainly large enough that one of them could wrap around both of his wrists. And Lan Wangji was certainly strong enough, tall enough, broad-shouldered enough to bodily pin him against the trunk of a tree with no chance of him breaking free. Lan Wangji was the first person he’d come across in his slow comb through the vicinity of where he’d been so headily kissed.

Wei Wuxian drew a sharp breath. There was a connection to be made here. He didn’t think he was crazy enough to make it. Perhaps he truly was going slightly insane with demonic cultivation if he could believe Lan Wangji, the paragon of virtue and respectability, who lived unflinchingly under Gusu Lan’s three thousand edicts, who had at best only tolerated his presence as children, would sneak up to him while he was blindfolded, pin him against a tree, and steal a kiss from him in broad daylight.

3. and his wanting grows teeth by yukla - ~25,000 words, teen - This is a very interesting AU where Lan Zhan is a traveling cultivator and runs into Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs looking for shelter during a snowstorm. No spoilers, but this fic goes to a pretty dark place that genuinely shocked me, but I enjoyed. (Still ends well though.)

Without further ado, they are hustled past the entrance and into a smaller greeting area. Huang-bobo approaches the brazier in the center with his hands outstretched, warming his fingers in the heat, but Lan Wangji hangs back. As he carefully brushes the snow free from his shoulders, he feels the burn of a curious gaze trailing up and down his body, lingering at the guqin still strapped to his back; when the sensation pauses at his face and stays there, he lifts his head.

The boy with the ribbon lights up at the eye contact, flashes another dazzling smile, and gives a little wave.

“You must be new here,” he whispers, something like laughter threaded into his voice, eyes scrunching into winking half-moons. “All dressed up in white like that! You might lose yourself in the snowstorm!”

Something stirs to life in Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s—uncomfortable, he decides, and so he steps away. Teasing should not be encouraged with a response.

4. Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller - ~15,000 words, not rated - After Wei Ying's death, his spirit seems to linger. The story is told from Lan Xichen's point of view. I love an outsider point of view. I also love the way the author fleshes out his character as well.

Lan Xichen means to force his way inside, angry ghost of the Yiling Patriarch or no, but then his brother lets out slow breath, settling, the pain easing from his face as he falls back into a more peaceful sleep.

His hair is moving on its own, so subtly Lan Xichen might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at Wangji so intently. It’s like someone’s running their hand through his hair.

The window frosts over suddenly, thick enough that he can’t see through it. Anxiety spikes through him so quickly he��s nauseous with it, but then the frost melts away and the opening notes of Healing start up again.

He can’t tell if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgement. Wei Wuxian knows he’s there.

5. **leading tone by silencemostofall - ~32,000 words, general - This is a modern AU set in a world where people who love you leave a mark of color on you the first time you touch. Wei Wuxian has no color on him. So much emotional hurt/comfort. So much of Wei Wuxian's terrible self-esteem.

He can cover up his palms with his gloves, so that the blankness does not draw stares. But he has no marks on his fingertips, which he cannot easily hide, and none visible on his face or neck, the blankness of which is even more difficult to hide. People look at him and, with a single glance, understand the single most devastating truth that he knows about himself.

They assume that he does not have very many marks. He may be an eccentric, dramatic person, but the likelihood that an individual has all of their marks on, say, their feet or their torso or other places that are not immediately obvious-- that probability goes down as your number of marks increases. He can laugh as much as he wants about how he loves touching people for the first time with odd places, like the knee or the elbow, but it doesn't quite mask the feeling of other that he knows he exudes.

They assume that he does not have a lot of marks. This, while a heavy weight, is not unbearably so. It is okay that they think he is not much loved. It chafes a bit, and feels occasionally like something he has to furiously push down within himself, but it is not unbearable. What would be unbearable is if they knew the truth: that he does not just have very few marks, but none. That he is simply an individual who is not loved at all.

6. **pastel by antebunny - ~7,000 words, gen - This is a remix work of the above fic. It's from Lan Zhan's point of view and just different enough to be interesting. Still lots of emotional hurt/comfort. I love this concept a whole lot, and both of these fics are great.

It’s a simmering day in May, and Wei Ying is wearing long sleeves, long pants, and gloves.

His choice of dress isn’t unusual for many reasons. For one, there’s plenty of people who don’t like strangers seeing their soulmarks. There’s plenty of people who wish to keep them private by covering them up. For another, Wei Ying spends most of his day in various chilly computer science department rooms, He could just be wearing long sleeves for that.

7. one good thing by Yuu_chi - ~27,000 words, teen - Wei Wuxian has died (or did he??) and is haunting his old home. Lan Zhan moves in. This story has a happy ending! And so much yearning!

To the flowers struggling to grow on the other side of the glass, he says, “We’re getting a new roommate. Well, I’m getting a new roommate - you’re getting somebody who might actually be able to water you for a change.” The flowers outside sway a little in the breeze, and Wei Wuxian nods contemplatively. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy who lived here. Remember when I spooked him while he was cooking and he nearly burnt the house down? Of course you don’t. You’re fucking foliage, your memory is worse than mine. I remember though, so it’s cool.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him and Wei Wuxian looks up to see the stranger has entered the kitchen, setting the last of the boxes down on the table. Disgustingly neat handwriting declares the box kitchen - homeware. The stranger carefully brushes his hair back from his face and, without so much as a second of hesitation, cracks open the box and begins unpacking.

“Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” Wei Wuxian marvels. “You literally just got here - who cares about unpacking? Sit down for a moment, breathe, have something to eat. It’s not going anywhere.”

8. with you, I am home by tellthemstories - ~47,000 words, mature - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is being forced to return home to entertain marriage proposals. So naturally instead he "convinces" Lan Zhan to pretend to date him. I love a good fake dating fic, and this one hits all the right beats.

Lan Zhan does that almost-smile thing that Wei Wuxian takes to mean he’s happy, or at the very least not-mad. “You don’t have any money.”

“Not true. I have the money from our last job, when we settled the vengeful spirit for the flower shop girl.” (He doesn’t. They have Lan Zhan’s money. Wei Wuxian spent his on a pack of loquats and three bottles of Emperor’s Smile wine.)

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Do it for me.”

Thinking back on it two weeks later, standing alone in the middle of Jin Ling’s graduation banquet and watching Lan Zhan walk away from him, Wei Wuxian realises that this, this was the moment when he should have known. He should have realised in the way Lan Zhan doesn’t hesitate or negotiate and just says with that half-fond, half-exasperated tone he gets sometimes, “Fine.”

9. and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen - ~11,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying can't find Lan Zhan, but hey, there happens to be a rabbit here instead. Features a very slow Wei Ying, emotional hurt/comfort and accidental love confessions.

Immediately, his heart settles and he grins down at his new friend. “Oh, hello there,” he coos, reaching out to pet the fluffy ears. The bunny is very, very still under his hand.

“Did Lan Zhan bring you today?,” he continues cooing. “I’m sorry I missed that, but your Dad didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

Lan Zhan rarely brings his rabbits to work since they are as tolerant of crowds and unnecessary noise as he is. They were probably relevant to today’s lesson but…

Wei Ying frowns. “Why would he leave you alone? And where is your cage?”

10. how, or when, or from where by sarahyyy - ~10,000 words, gen - Wei Ying wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and can't remember the last few years of his life, including his best friend and the guy he's in love with.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard Wei Wuxian is surprised his eyeballs don’t just fall out of his eye sockets. “That’s the worst part. He did. Whatever mating ritual you both have going on is so fucking weird, Wei Wuxian.” He snorts. “If you’d stayed asleep for any longer, I’d have lost my shit and thrown my myself out a window just so I wouldn’t have to talk to Lan Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Is this a good time to ask who Lan Wangji is?”

Jiang Cheng glares at him. “Your Lan Zhan,” he says, annoyed. Wei Wuxian must look as confused as he feels, because Jiang Cheng’s annoyance bleeds out into concern. “Your Lan er-gege? Your soulmate, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No bells are ringing.”

11. ** a shared plate by yukla - ~26,000 words, teen - This is an absolutely gorgeous fic about Wei Wuxian traveling the world post-canon to rediscover himself and restore his faith in humanity and eventually find his way back to Lan Zhan. The whole thing is great, but the last two chapters are just *chef's kiss*

Lan Zhan,

Just as the mountains stand unchanging and the green rivers flow ceaselessly, we will meet again — and between then and now, you cannot hope to avoid my letters, either! Haha! Lan Zhan, I’ve seen so many things and met so many people, and it’s only been a month!

I miss you already

It’s so hot that I find myself missing the wind in Gusu’s mountains. Your poor Wei Ying is I’m melting away, Lan Zhan...

I’m realizing now, sixteen years is a long time to be away — the world is vast, and quite a bit different than I remembered. And in sixteen years, a child can also grow up into a man! It’s your job to catch me up on A-Yuan’s fun childhood stories! I do remember hearing something about a pile of rabbits...

12. with your arms outstretched to me by annemari - ~14,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan finally gets up the nerve to ask Wei Ying on a date, but things don't go as expected. Features emotional hurt/comfort (are we sensing a theme with these recs??) and just regular hurt/comfort.

"Oh, man, I was hoping you had some water with you," Wei Ying says. "I totally forgot to bring any for myself. Stupid of me."

"There is enough for both of us," Lan Wangji says. He has another bigger bottle in the car, as well.

Wei Ying hums but he only takes a few sips. He presses it back into Lan Wangji's hand. "I don't need any more."

Lan Wangji is considering arguing, but then Wei Ying shifts a bit, moving his ankle, and gasps very, very quietly.

13. ** A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart - ~22,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian has finished traveling and returned to the Cloud Recesses and Lan Zhan. But their lives never do run smoothly.

“Lan Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, recognizing him after a moment. His heart slams against his rib cage. “Where is Lan Zhan? What’s happened?”

Lan Jingyi flaps a hand at him, gulping air. Wei Wuxian hands him the water, and leans back against Little Apple’s side as he waits impatiently for the boy to get his breath back.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Jingyi gasps, just as Wei Wuxian is about to throttle a proper answer out of him. “Hanguang Jun was in such a state when he woke up, we didn’t know if you’d come and gone already.”

“Where is he, Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, as evenly as he can. “What happened?”

14. So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend - ~14,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel extraordinary pain unless he's touching Lan Zhan. Yet more of Wei Wuxian's self-esteem issues and Lan Zhan's steadfast devotion.

“Are you hurt, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, pressing his hand to Wei Ying’s forehead to feel his temperature. There is no fever, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate Lan Wangji’s worries.

“No—I’m not hurt,” says Wei Ying, sagging forward to lean his weight into Lan Wangji’s hand like he can’t help himself.

It’s so strange—Lan Wangji can feel what Wei Ying is feeling. Although the relief is still very profound, wisps of other things are making themselves known; happiness; wistfulness; guilt. It’s all so fleeting that Lan Wangji can’t even begin to deduce what has provoked those feelings, but he wishes he knew their source.

15. puzzle pieces by Anonymous - ~6,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are roommates, and Wei Ying has started borrowing Lan Zhan's clothes.

“Hm? Oh.” With sleepy eyes that does— things to Lan Zhan’s heart, he blinks and tugs at the lower hem of the shirt, which is riding just above the curve of his thighs. Does Lan Zhan’s mouth water? Maybe. Yes. Absolutely. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ He blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that Lan Zhan wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks. But he can’t say that, and his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything else. So he stays silent.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says after a moment. “If you—oh, damn, I should’ve known, this is like real silk, must’ve been super expensive. Fuck. Okay, here, uh, I’ll take it off—“

16. ** Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl - ~60,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Ying is trying to be a good brother and get Jiang Cheng laid. Somehow this plan involves pretending to date Lan Zhan.

"I won't!" Wei Ying insists. "I'll ask out someone...high stakes. I'll find someone. I'll...okay, how's this? I swear that I'll ask someone out and keep at it for at least two dates."

"No."

"Three dates."

"Nope."

"Okay, okay, five. That's fair! That's more than fair! One person, five dates." He points at Jiang Cheng. "You have to do it, too. That's how a pact works."

Jiang Cheng stares at him. "Five dates," he says flatly. "Five. And yours can't be Nie Huaisang."

17. i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) - ~43,000 words, explicit - This is a Modern AU and a Cherry Magic AU! (Side note: GO WATCH CHERRY MAGIC IF YOU HAVEN'T.) But in short, Wei Ying turns 30 without losing his virginity and gets the power to hear people's thoughts when he touches them. He gets more than he bargained for with Lan Zhan. The author does a good job of translating the story to these characters. Wei Ying is not forced to be like Adachi, the main character of Cherry Magic. He's still himself, and the same goes for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan’s voice is so clear, so sudden that it’s as though it’s spoken, the slice of a sharp object through velvet.

He’s touching me.

Wei Ying startles for a moment, wonders if he’d somehow heard his own thoughts instead, but — no, that had definitely been Lan Zhan’s steady, factual baritone, loud and clear.

God, this is still so weird. It still doesn’t seem totally real. But how else can he account for hearing Lan Zhan’s voice in his head, as clearly as if he’d spoken to Wei Ying directly?

18. like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar - ~37,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are roommates, and Lan Zhan just finds himself wanting to take care of Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji’s roommate. Is a problem.

He doesn’t get an answer to the roommate problem until the next morning, when Lan Xichen texts him telling him that the apartment he’d suggested (and helped pay rent for) to Lan Wangji said in the small text that it’d be two people per apartment, the second bedroom wasn’t actually a guest bedroom, sorry, Wangji, you can move in with me if you want, I have space —

No. Thank you for your kind offer, Brother, but I will be quite fine, Lan Wangji texts back.

19. ** some impulse of delight by handclaps - ~20,000 words, explicit - College AU where Wei Ying decides he needs to help Lan Zhan get used to touching people. Lan Zhan agrees. Wei Ying is dumb and in love. Lan Zhan is less dumb, but still as in love.

Lan Zhan shakes his head and fumbles, tries to push the cotton wool into Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, realising. “Touching people, I know.”

He feels dumb. He thought he’d worn Lan Zhan down more than this, that they were friends now and that his whole no touching thing was mostly overcome. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand easily, right? He looks down at his belly full of scratches, dabbing at them moodily.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

Lan Zhan makes some kind of noise, but he is busy packing the first aid kit back, placing everything exactly where it was before.

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to do something about this,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I know you don’t like touching people and usually it plays as a kind of gentlemanly thing, but what about emergencies?”

20. And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene - ~43,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian returns after a year of traveling and rejoins Lan Zhan in the Cloud Recesses. He's doing a good job of pining and ignoring the obvious. Look, at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm a sucker for stories where Wei Wuxian deals with his ~*~issues~*~ and Lan Zhan takes care of him, whether he asks for it or not. This story has lots of that. I also enjoyed the case fic aspect of it.

“I do, I think,” Wei Wuxian admits. “Would be nice to see his face again after so long. And at least this time, I’m going to show up draped in finery. What do you think, Lan Zhan? I can’t possibly disgrace him—or you—wearing a cloak like that.”

“You could never disgrace me,” Lan Wangji says gently, that soft, affectionate look back on his face.

Wei Wuxian grins, warmed to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll remind you of that later. The next time I’m three jars deep and feeling especially shameless, you’ll have to remember those words, Lan Er-gege.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says simply.

Wei Wuxian smiles some more, overwhelmed by fondness.

21. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter - ~7,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian really, really wants Lan Zhan to call him 'gege'. Lan Zhan knows a trump card when he sees one.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

Lan Wangji knows he will not stop, regardless of what he calls him. Still, he thinks about it. If there really is a way to make Wei Wuxian stop, should he not consider it? He doesn’t have any real interest in curbing his husband’s insatiable mischievousness, but he does like knowing things about him—everything there is to know.

If there’s something that persuasive in the world, that it can bring Wei Wuxian into submission when no one is under threat, could he stop himself from seeking it?

22. your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - ~11,000 words, gen - Wei Wuxian & Lan Sizhui fic with the Wangxian in the background. Lan Sizhui wants another dad and Wei Wuxian wants a son, they just don't know how to explain that to each other.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

Lan Sizhui tucks his chin into his uncle’s shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Wen Ning whispers to him kindly.

Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath, and takes stock of all his aches, his ringing ear, his hollow chest, the way he had selfishly wanted Wei Wuxian to keep speaking to him in that careful voice, like he was just a child to be soothed and there was no real danger. How dangerous, to pretend. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t hurt that much at all.”

23. when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool - ~26,000 words, teen - AU where Lan Zhan with Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's one-month celebration. Things go down, and it leads to Lan Zhan discovering Wei Wuxian's missing golden core. This obviously will not do, and oh look, the best doctor in the world just happens to be right here.

“How—“ Lan Wangji chokes. “His core —?” He looks at Wen Ning, half accusatory in his shock. “Jin Zixun could not have—“

“No, no!” Wen Ning says, holding out his hands. “He hasn’t had one for years, don’t worry!”

This is not as reassuring as Wen Ning seems to think.

“Please explain,” Lan Wangji says, pained. He feels for Wei Wuxian’s pulse instead; in the absence of a golden core, it will have to do as reassurance that he’s still alive.

Wen Ning is so anxious that the story comes out in a ramble, out of order. Lan Wangji wants him to hurry up, but he’s also not confident in his own ability to speak, so he just keeps quiet and lets him talk. His heart feels as if it’s about to fall from his chest, beating nearly twice as fast as Wei Wuxian’s does under his fingers.

24. A Match in the Making by lareine - ~30,000 words, teen - A Modern AU where Wei Wuxian sees his single and bad ass friend Lan Zhan and his single and bad ass friend Mianmian and gets some very dumb ideas.

To return to the point: Lan Zhan was peak adulting. Mianmian was peak adulting. And if they were both at the peak, then they were on the same level. What level? That mysterious level thing that everyone mentioned when it came to dating.

Whatever level it was, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were on it together. Wei Ying nodded to himself. So, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were allowed to date each other. The next question was: were they compatible? Did they have chemistry or whatever the fuck people called it?

25. Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo - ~16,000 words, explicit - Lan Zhan gets cursed to say whatever he's thinking. So his worst nightmare. Mutual pining, first time, all good stuff.

Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.

"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."

Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.

26. Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller - 13,000 words, no rating - Lan Zhan wants to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family. There are some things he definitely didn't realize about Wei Ying.

“He has a life here,” he says down the line. He doesn’t say that he has a life here too, one he likes a lot more than the one he had before. He misses home. He’d miss Wei Ying more. But he doesn’t say that, doesn’t say how vibrant he is and how beautiful and how little interest Lan Zhan has at seeing him among the high society he grew up with.

“Well, your life is here, Wangji,” his brother says. “You can’t stay away from home forever. You’re going to have to see how he does with the rest of us sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

It might as well be never, as far as he’s concerned. His family can meet Wei Ying at their wedding.

“I’ll ask,” he says.

Wei Ying has no interest in cultivation politics. They’re horrible, the five clans have an iron tight alliance that’s thirty seconds away from collapsing in on itself the moment someone from one sect steps on another sect’s toes. It’s the worst and he hates it. Surely even just the idea of it will be so horrifying to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan will be able to tell his brother no.

27. just our hands clasped so tight by electrum ~4,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan really, really, really just wants to give Wei Ying everything he wants.

“Despite your best efforts,” Wei Wuxian agrees. He shakes his head in mock-dismay. “How much longer do you think that will last if you keep buying everything I look at?” When this, too, fails to soften Lan Zhan’s resolve, he tries a different tactic. “We couldn’t even afford potatoes,” he says. “Back when I was with the Wens, at the Burial Mounds. Only radishes! If I survived that, I can certainly survive without another pretty comb.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is at once unmoved and yet somehow stricken. “I would have bought Wei Ying potatoes,” he says, like Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, by this point, that Lan Zhan would buy him anything. “If I had known…”

28. ** Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller - ~64,000 words, no rating - Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian with Wangxian in the background. Jin Ling is the best boy! And as he tries to rehabilitate his sect and his family and keep himself alive at the same time, he realizes, horrifyingly, that he has to be the mature one.

29. ** an act too often neglected by Ariaste - Lan Xichen / Meng Yao, ~61,000 words, explicit - The Wangxian is in the background here, but the main story is about Lan Xichen meeting Meng Yao on a dating app and getting immediately dickmatized. Meanwhile. Meng Yao refuses to be won over by Lan Xichen's charm. It goes as well as you'd expect for him.

The caption below is equally sparse: “5’6. Demanding.”

Lan Xichen feels a low simmer of arousal kindle in the pit of his stomach, and he gazes at that word-- demanding --for nearly as long as he’d stared at the photograph. He swipes right.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up: < Hm, the size of your hands is promising.

This is familiar. This is the flirtation stage. Lan Xichen knows the steps to the dance.

30. My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit - ~30,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is cast out of his sect and out of China to America. And Lan Zhan just...follows.

Lan Zhan always waited for his tea to cool before drinking, which meant he had nothing to do but give Wei Wuxian a judgmental look. “No more McDonald’s.”

“You’re just bitter because you get indigestion from anything that actually tastes good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

Because Lan Zhan was insufferably mature and patient, he didn’t rise to the bait. “We have time to stop somewhere before class,” he said.

“Fine. But you’re paying this time.”

It was a bad joke, and predictably, fell flat; Lan Zhan was, after all, paying for everything, every time. Wei Wuxian frowned into his mug.

“You know,” he said, after another swallow, “you really don’t have to be here. I’m going to figure something out.”

Interested in 86 more The Untamed fic recs?

Part 1 - 40 recs Part 2 - 23 recs Part 3 - 23 recs

#the untamed fic #the untamed #master of demonic cultivation #wangxian fic recs #wangxian fic #mdzs #lan xichen/jin guangyao #lan zhan #wei wuxian/lan wangji #wei wuxian #jin ling #lan sizhui #mxtx novels

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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I wrote a Thing. It’s extremely long. I’d prefer it not be reblogged; I wrote this for my own catharsis and would prefer it not be circulated, bc of Reasons.

I changed my mind, okay to reblog. <3

Under a cut for (extreme, did I mention?) length.

So I got about 12 minutes of sleep last night, as you do, and around 3am or so I found myself - out of sheer curiosity - going down a meta hole of Ragnarok discourse, trying to figure out where this "satisfying redemption arc" for Loki happened. (I mean, there's a lot of things I would like to figure out, but I started there.) Because I could.

Basically I was looking for meta that went into detail about how Loki was redeemed in a satisfactory way. The ‘satisfactory’ is an important word here bc there is a redemption arc in the film, in that Loki starts off the film as an antagonist (kinda) to Thor and he ends the film as an ally to Thor, standing at Thor's side. In that sense, yes, there's a redemption arc. I didn't find much (and I had no idea how much people just despise Ragnarok "antis" [I really dislike that word] but that's another topic [that I don't particularly want to get into, tbh]) but I did find some. I read what I could find, and I read it open-mindedly, and overall I came away feeling like, okay, there are some valid points being made here and I can kinda see where they're coming from.

But it was a bit (a lot) like -- flat. Idk. The best comparison I can think of is that it’s like if a literature class read, I don't know, The Yellow Wallpaper for an assignment, and some of the students came away from it feeling like it was a creepy story about a woman slowly driving herself insane, and the other students came away from it incensed at the oppression and infantilization of women in the late 19th century -

- and neither side is wrong, but the former is a very surface-level reading and the latter isn't (bc it stems from looking at why she drives herself insane, why she was prescribed 'rest' in the first place, the context of what women could and couldn't do back then, etc; basically, a bit more work has to go into it).

[Note: I am not disparaging the quality of The Yellow Wallpaper. At all. It’s just the first relatively well-known story that popped into my head.]

In this sense, I can see the argument for Loki's redemption arc, but I don't think it's a very good argument. Not invalid, but not great.

I mean, for example, I think the most consistent argument I found variations of re: Loki's redemption is that Ragnarok shows Loki finally taking responsibility for his bad behaviour and misdeeds. This includes recognizing that his actions were fueled from a place of self-hatred and a desire to self-destruct in addition to bringing destruction on others. That he probably feels awkward and regretful of these things and doesn't know how to act around Thor, but he figures it out by the end, and decides that returning to Asgard is the best way to show that he's ready to make amends. His act of bringing the Statesman to Asgard is an apology. He allies himself with Thor and ends up in a better place, both narratively (united with Thor once again) and mentally (having taken responsibility and made amends for his past).

And setting aside that he had already made amends by sacrificing his life in TDW (and also setting aside that the argument is made that Loki redeems himself in IW by sacrificing himself to Thanos but if that's the case, wouldn't that imply that he hadn't achieved redemption in Ragnarok or else there would be no need to achieve it again in IW? Or, if you think he did achieve redemption in Ragnarok, then what the fuck did he give his life in IW for? What was his motivation there, and why did the narrative not make it clearer? I digress.)

- setting aside those two factors, I think this is a very fair argument. Loki is fueled by self-hatred, and he does want to self-destruct, and he does want to inflict that pain on others as well (particularly Thor). No lies detected here.

However, I also need to know where that self-hatred and desire for destruction (toward himself and others) comes from and for that, we need to go back to Thor 1.

Thor 1.

Loki starts Thor 1 out as "a clenched fist with hair," to borrow a quote from the Haunting of Hill House (that I tucked away in my mental box of Lovely Things bc it says so much so very simply). He's very used to bottling everything up, pushing it down; he slinks around behind the scenes, pulling the strings to this plot or that. He's "always been one for mischief," but the narrative implies that the coronation incident is the first time Loki's done anything truly terrible. And it all immediately pretty much goes to shit, so Loki spends the rest of the movie frantically juggling all these moving pieces while trying to seem as if he's got it all under control, every step of the way. That's how I view his actions.

But I always come back to that quote where Kenneth Branaugh tells Tom, of the scene in the vault, "This is where the thin steel rod that's been holding your mind together snaps." In other words this is where Loki discovering he's Jotun is just one thing too many. He can't take it. But though the rod snaps, his descent isn't a nosedive. It's a tumble. As the story progresses, the clenched fist starts to loosen, the muscles are flexed in unfamiliar ways (that feel kinda good, after being stiff for so long), and it culminates with the hand opening completely and shaking itself out. All of that repression, that self-hatred, that rage and jealousy just explodes so that, by the time the bifrost scene happens, Loki's already hit bottom. It's not just about proving his worthiness to Odin. He wants to hurt Thor, too; he, essentially, throws a tantrum. (That's right, I said tantrum.)

(Note: The word 'tantrum’ has negative connotations bc we normally equate it with a toddler stamping their feet and screaming in the aisle when their parent won't buy them the toy they want. But in itself, the word tantrum isn't infantalizing. It's an "emotional outburst, an uncontrolled explosion of anger and frustration" [paraphrasing from dictionary.com]. That's exactly what happens here [and why Tom called Loki's actions a massive tantrum, but people took that to mean Tom agreed it was childish whereas I doubt Tom meant it that way]).

He's been pushed past his limit, and he does bad things. He does really shitty things. He hurts Thor, he hurts his family. I'm pretty sure he knows this all along so this isn't, like, some revelation further down the line that "hey, those things I did were probably kinda bad." He got the memo already.

Ragnarok

Fast forward to Ragnarok, and we're introduced to a version of Loki who's had 4ish years to sit with everything that's happened. To sit with it and not do much else. The rawness of it has faded, and now it seems as though it's just become a thing, like when you move through life aware of your childhood traumas and have more or less just accepted them (and you probably share a lot of really funny depression memes on Facebook, which is kinda the equivalent of Loki's play, but that's probably just me).

Loki has, more or less, chilled out. He seems more bored than anything else; he's been masquerading as Odin for longer than he ever planned or intended to, so he's more or less ended up hanging out, letting Asgard mind its own business, and entertaining himself with silly plays. This is the version that starts out the movie as an antagonist to Thor - a version that is, arguably, in a much different place [and is a much milder threat] than the version who originally did those Bad Things.

And of course Thor is still mad at him, and of course they're going to butt heads, because that's what they do (and Thor's grievances are genuine, I’ll add, bc it's not really his fault he assumed Loki faked his death, nor can he be blamed for being pissed about Odin).

One argument framed this version of Loki as being a person who is facing the awkwardness of coming out of a dark place, which is fair. If we're going to frame his actions in Thor 1 as a tantrum, then Ragnarok would be the part where the toddler has been taken home, possibly has had some lunch and a juice box, and is now watching cartoons. They're over the tantrum, and would probably feel pretty silly about it if they weren't, yknow, toddlers. They probably can't remember why they even wanted that toy so badly. If they're a little older and self-aware, they might even be embarrassed for having melted down.

Like the word tantrum, this feeling isn't a thing limited to toddlers. I know I've had a few epic meltdowns as a grown ass adult, and I know I always feel deeply embarrassed afterwards - like, want to crawl into a hole and die. I've said things I can't take back. Adolescents and teenagers throw tantrums, mentally ill people throw tantrums, adults throw tantrums (I mean, my god, look at all the videos of Karens having screaming meltdowns - screaming! - over having to wear masks in order to shop at stores). Humans throw tantrums. And usually, after the feelings have been let out and the tantrum has passed, humans feel pretty regretful and awkward and embarrassed about whatever they did and said in the midst of their meltdown.

I get all of that and agree it's valid and that Loki probably feels it. By the time Ragnarok happens, Loki's had some time to reflect and think hmm, yeah, probably could've handled that one a lot better. The argument further goes that in order to navigate this awkward period, Loki must come to terms with what he's done, acknowledge that some things can't be unsaid or undone, and begin to make amends. Supposedly, some people feel that Loki becomes a better person because he does "own" everything he did wrong and, even though he feels like a jackass (paraphrasing), he sets that aside to become a become a better person by choosing to help Thor and Asgard at the end.

Thus, the overall arc goes like this. Loki, Thor's jealous little brother,

throws a tantrum of epic proportions bc Reasons

continues to act badly and make things even worse (Avengers)

has to face consequences for his actions (prison sentence)

ends up with a stretch of time in which he's free to contemplate and chill out

feels embarrassed and awkward about how he's behaved

sees an opportunity to make up for it and decides to take it

helps Thor, saves the day, and ends the film a better person.

Redemption achieved.

None of this is wrong. The film supports it. It's a fair interpretation. But it leaves. out. so. much.

To circle all the way back around Loki being "a clenched fist with hair," and his actions stemming from his self-hatred, you have to ask - how did he get that way? He didn't end up with all this self-hatred on accident. Generally, one isn't born despising themselves, it's a learned behavior. (I realize chemical imbalances are a thing, obviously, as I have Mental Shit myself, but for argument's sake I'm assuming that's not the case with Loki [at this point in time]).

Where did Loki learn it? From his family, from his surroundings, from his culture. We see examples of these microaggressions in the first, like, twenty minutes of the movie - a guard openly laughs at Loki's magic after Thor makes a joke about it (the tone of the conversation implies that Thor "jokes" like this often) and though Loki does the snake thing, the guard faces no real consequences. Thor doesn't acknowledge that anything went amiss. Not much later, on their way to Jotunheim, Loki's barely gotten two words out to Heimdall before Thor cuts him off, steps in front of him, and takes charge. Loki doesn't look annoyed at this; he looks resigned.

Then, for absolutely no reason at all, Volstagg decides to make a jab at Loki ("silver tongue turned to lead?") just because he can. The ease with which he makes this comment and the way that no one else blinks an eye at it implies that this isn't out of the norm. And Loki doesn't react, not really. In the deleted version, he delivers a particularly nasty comeback but he delivers it under his breath, without intending Volstagg to hear it. In the final version, he simply says nothing, though his expression can be read as hurt or stung. Either way, the audience sees an example of Loki being walked all over by Thor and his friends and bottling up his reactions instead of standing up for himself.

Microaggressions matter. They are mentally and emotionally damaging. They hurt. The implication that this is not unusual treatment for Loki means that Loki's probably gone through this for most of his life. It's like the equivalent of being, I don't know, twenty two and you're the friend who has to walk behind the others when the sidewalk isn't wide enough, and it's been that way since the first day of kindergarten. At this point, you're used to it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less when the jabs come seemingly out of nowhere, for no reason other than to make you feel bad.

(I personally identify a lot with this bc I experienced passive bullying in social settings for years. I was the 'doesn't fit on the sidewalk' friend; I hung around with people who'd pretend to be my friend and would be more or less nice to my face, but would laugh at me and make fun of me behind my back for whatever reasons. And often there'd be the random jabs at me, things that would come out of nowhere to smack me in the face, followed by the fake laugh and “just kidding!" so that I couldn't even get upset without being made to feel like I was overreacting and couldn't take a joke. I'd deal with this socially, particularly in middle school when girls are their most vicious, and then I'd go home and, because I was the only girl with a lot of brothers and because boys are mean and because I am who I am, the dynamic was that my brothers would just endlessly roast me to my face and sometimes it was a "just kidding!" thing, where I was the only one not laughing. But that’s beside the point; my point is that microaggressions, passive bullying, and consistent invalidation are harmful and that shit stays with you into adulthood.)

So, yes, Loki needs to be held responsible for his misdeeds, and it's valid to say that he recognizes those misdeeds and wants to make amends. I have never disagreed with that. But the problem with this interpretation is that it lets every single other character who contributed to Loki's self-hatred and mental breakdown (let's just call a spade a spade here, that's what it was; he was broken psychologically) get off scot-free.

First of all,

Odin is not held accountable for instilling in the princes a mentality of Asgard first, everyone is beneath us but Jotuns are benath us the most, they are literal monsters. He is not held accountable for pitting his sons against one another (even if it was unintentional, he still did it) with "you were both born to be kings but only one of you can rule" being the general tone of their upbringing. He's not held accountable for his favoritism toward Thor.

Frigga is not held accountable for deferring to Odin both in supporting the above things and in keeping the truth of Loki's origins a secret while doing nothing to discourage the "monsters" narrative.

Thor is not held accountable for his own tendency of taking Loki for granted (he assumes Loki will come to Jotunheim, he oversteps Loki constantly, “know your place,” etc.. He grants his implicit permission for Loki to be treated as the sidewalk friend in their “group,” a group which is loyal to and takes their cues from Thor as Thor continues to do nothing in his brother's defense).

[Note: Wanting Thor to be held accountable for things he's done wrong isn't vilifying him. Acknowledging that Thor benefited from Odin's favoritism and his own place as Crown Prince doesn't negate Thor also being raised in an abusive environment. I don't think anyone's saying that or, if they have, it's not something I agree with.]

Furthermore,

Odin is not held accountable for his cruelty in disowning Loki (”your birthright was to die” is never going to be forgotten, speaking of people saying things that can't be unsaid or taken back) and in sentencing Loki to a severe prison sentence (life! only bc Frigga wouldn't let him execute Loki) for crimes that are no worse than what Odin himself has committed (around which the entire plot of Ragnarok revolves! Colonialism (and subjugation) is wrong is, like, a major theme [that people rush to praise, even] here).

Thor is also never held accountable for not trying harder to understand what made Loki snap (fair enough, he didn't have a ton of time after returning from Earth, but certainly he had lots of time to sit around reflecting while Loki was being tortured by Thanos for a year). He knows Loki is "not himself" and "beyond reason" and accepts it at face value; he questions it once and then lets it go. He's fine with assuming Loki's just lost his mind, and isn't that a shame. (I realize I'm simplifying Thor's emotions but my point is that Thor could've tried harder to figure out that Loki was being influenced and/or not acting completely autonomously.)

Thor is also never held accountable for - if not facing consequences for his own slaughter of Jotuns - then at least addressing why Loki can't kill an entire race even though Thor tried to do that, like, two days ago. (Granted, it’s difficult to understand how Thor got from Point A ("let's finish them together, Father!") to Point B (this is wrong!), but that failing belongs to Thor 1 (which is not, by the way, a perfect movie).

The interpretation that Loki is fully redeemed because he took responsibility for his actions, returned to Asgard, and allied himself with Thor to save their people is all well and good - but, why is Loki the only one here who has to take responsibility for their actions?

What about all the loose threads in his story?

For example, how did he get from:

Point A (believing himself a literal monster, having a complete mental breakdown, getting tortured and further traumatized after that, etc)

Point B (Hey, yknow what would be fun? I'm going to write and direct a play about how I heroically died to save Thor and Jane, and I'll go ahead and have Odin say he accepts me and has always loved me. I'm going to do these things because Odin never said this in real life and instead of acknowledging my sacrifice, Thor left my body in the dirt, so someone has to validate what I've done right and that someone might as well be me. And hey, while I'm at it, I'm going to control the narrative on revealing myself as Jotun to Asgard, instead of living in fear of it being found out, and I'm going to do it in a way that they have to sympathize with me and revere me in death, bc they never bothered to do so when I was alive. And Matt Damon should play me, also.)

Point C (Yeah, I guess I feel kinda awkward about that whole tantrum thing, also I should help Thor and support him being king.)

The answers to these questions are handwaved and the audience takes that to mean they don't matter. Furthermore, framing Loki's redemption around an act of service (more or less) to Thor makes Loki's redemption about Thor. Does Loki make this decision for the sake of Thor and of Asgard, or does he make it for himself? It's not super clear to me, and I think arguments can be made for both. Which, again, is fine, but - whatever.

If we're going to collectively agree, as a fandom, that Loki is complex, that he's morally gray, that he's worthy of redemption and therefore arguably a good person who's done bad things, then why is it asking too much to have it acknowledged that Thor (also a good person who's done bad things) played a part in Loki's downfall and has shit to apologize for, too? Bc one can only assume the reason is that you're taking a very gray concept and making it black and white by saying Loki has to apologize and make amends because he is the villain, and Thor doesn't because he is the hero (and it's his movie). And it's lazy.

This is where the crux of the issue lands. There's more than one valid interpretation, yes. And no two people (or groups of people, or whatever) are going to consume and therefore interpret or analyze the source material in the same way. I think I saw a post recently about how studies have been done on this, in fact. But, there is a lot going on under the surface that tends to get overlooked when exploring Loki's redemption arc in Ragnarok, as far as I can see, and that’s why I don’t consider it satisfactory.

[I did read similar arguments regarding other issues that are often debated ('debated'), like Loki's magic and/or being underpowered, whether or not Loki's betrayal of Thor was the natural outcome of the situation on Sakaar or not, whether Thor actually gets closure with Odin [if he does, how does he reconcile the father he's idolized with the imperialistic conqueror he's discovered? Why doesn't he hold Odin responsible for covering up Hela's existence and the threat of her return, especially as he knew he was nearing the end of his life? Is Thor's "I'm not as strong as you" meant to imply that he acknowledges those shortcomings of Odin's and that he's okay with them, or that he's just overlooking them, or is he not okay with them but didn't have the chance to get into it bc he was in the middle of battle? T'Challa confronted his father on his wrongdoings in Black Panther; could Thor not have had at least one line that was confrontational enough to establish where he stands as opposed to this gray middle? Can someone explain to me how any of this equates to Thor gaining closure? Please?) but obviously I'm not going to go into all of them (well, I tried not to), bc this mammoth post has gone on long enough (I may not even post this tbh)]

- but my overall point to this entire thing is that when I say I'm critical of Ragnarok bc it's flawed, that Loki's arc was neither complete nor satisfactory, that many things went unaddressed and, due to all of these things, I do not think Ragnarok is a very good movie nor a very cohesive movie, this is where I'm coming from. I have not seen anything to change my mind to the contrary.

But I am not saying that anyone satisfied with it is wrong, or shouldn't have the interpretation that they do. I'm not vilifying Thor in order to lift Loki up, just acknowledging that Thor is arguably just as flawed as Loki without the stigma of being Designated Villain. I think a lot of these arguments get overlooked or dismissed, and that's fine, but it doesn't make the people who do engage with them hateful, or bitter, or trying to excuse Loki's crimes, or feeling like redemption means that Loki's crimes should be erased rather than reconciled.

And sure, yes, perhaps we are expecting too much and exploring all of these themes (or wanting them explored) means that somehow we think it should be Loki's movie (we don't). Loki is a supporting character, but he's still a character. And the movie itself doesn't have to delve into all these things - no one's saying that. (At least, I'm not.) We just want acknowledgement, from the narrative, that this stuff was an Issue.

This could have been accomplished with -

Some dialogue closer to the novelization (and original script), like Thor and Loki both acknowledging the harm they've done one another and their kingdom due to their Feels.

A single line of Thor confronting Odin, or even asking "Why?"

A narrative acknowledgement that Odin did both Thor and Loki dirty (”I love you, my sons” isn't an apology, because it doesn't acknowledge either that there's been wrong-doing or express regret for having done the wrong in the first place).

A little bit more nuance in the way Loki treats his own past (ie, instead of flippantly telling the story of his suicide attempt, maybe - if it must be flippant - talk about getting blasted in the face with Hawkeye's arrow or sailing through to Svartalfheim [And in that moment, I sang ta-daaaa!]) or whatever.

I recognize that wanting full, in-depth exploration on all of these issues regarding a supporting character is probably too much to ask or expect - but, I also feel like, if you're going to be professionally writing a narrative (or rewriting/improvising, as it were), it's not too much to ask that a little more care be taken in regards to all of the layers that have contributed to said supporting character's downfall and subsequent redemption arc. I don't think that's an unreasonable thing to want.

And maybe if there had been more nuance and continuity in how these things were portrayed on screen (ie, if TW had actually done as good a job as his stans think he did), the fandom wouldn't have divided and conquered itself over which "version" of the same character is more valid and whether or not the film did its best to close out a trilogy (not start a new one), to the point where everyone in this fandom space makes navigating it feel like walking through a minefield.

But, I mean

(Again, please don’t reblog if possible.)

Edit: Okay to reblog. <3

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 4 years

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Tour Life, Baby(Joey Jordison x Reader)

@fateblood I’m so, so, so sorry for the long wait! I watched as many interviews as I could to try and get a feel for Joey’s personality, sorry if it isn’t exactly right! This is younger Joey.

Description: Just a sweet fluffy fic about tour life on the road with Joey.

Warnings: Cursing

Permanent Taggers: @smokeandmirrorz @holyjunkie @overlyobsessedfangirl @slashevilsister

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties.”

You awoke with a start as you felt the blankets being pulled off of you, and opened a bleary eye to see Corey, the lead singer of your boyfriend’s band, standing over you with a smirk on his face. Joey, who had fallen asleep while he was spooning you from behind, reached down and pulled the covers back over the two of you, shooting Corey a quick death glare. “Go away.”

Corey laughed, pulled the covers back down again, and walked off towards the opposite end of the tour bus. “You’ll have to get up anyway, Joey, we gotta do sound check. Come on, princess, get up and go change.” Corey left, dodging a pillow that Joey threw at him, and Joey groaned loudly as he burrowed his face into your neck. “I don’t wanna get up.”

You giggled, sitting up to rub the sleep from your eyes. “I know, Joey, but you gotta get up. You can sleep more after the concert.” He sighed, begrudgingly climbing out of the bunk. “Okay, okay. Kiss me first, though.” You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, and he walked off towards the bathroom to change. You watched him go, smiling to yourself.

Even though you technically could have just stayed in bed and caught up on sleep, since you weren’t a band member and therefore didn’t have to go to sound check, you decided to get up and get ready too, just to be fair to Joey. When he came back from the bathroom, you were fixing yourself breakfast in the makeshift kitchen. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cooked.

“Save me some for when I get back?” You smiled. “Sure, baby. Now get going before Corey comes in here and kicks your ass.” He groaned again, but kissed your cheek and walked out the door. You laughed as you watched him go. He really needs to start going to bed earlier. Of course, it wasn’t his fault entirely. The two of you had stayed up watching various children’s cartoons on the tour bus’s TV set until about 4 in the morning.

You spent the next two hours doing basically nothing except watching TV and eating snacks. At about 10:00AM, Joey walked back in, looking slightly less tired than he had earlier. “How was soundcheck?” He shrugged, but smiled. “Some fans came up to us on the way back, so we talked to them for a while and took some photos and signed some stuff.” You smiled. Joey absolutely loved meeting fans. “See? Bet that made soundcheck worth it!”

He laughed, sitting next to you and pulling you into his lap. “Missed you.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I missed you too, baby. Here, saved you some bacon and pancakes.” As he ate, he talked about the fans he’d met, including one who’d told him that he was their biggest inspiration for wanting to make music. Joey’s face lit up as he talked about it, and you couldn’t help but grin the whole time he spoke. You knew those kinds of things stuck with him.

You went to put the plates in the tiny kitchen sink, and turned to Joey with a smile. “Bet you’re excited to see all those other fans in VIP tonight.” He nodded. “Yeah. Speaking of which, the rest of the band and I won’t be back til at least 2 or 3 in the morning. Will you be okay here by yourself?” You shrugged. “I should be. I usually am, anyway.” Joey frowned. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

You looked up, concerned. “What do you mean, baby?” Joey stared at you seriously. “Do you want me to fly you back home?” You raised your eyebrows, alarmed. Where was this coming from. “Do you want me to go back home?” He shook his head. “No, but I know it can’t be easy having to stay cooped up in this tour bus for so long. You can be honest. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to go home. I’ll pay for your ticket.”

You set down the plates and walked over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. You then pulled away and looked him in the eyes. “Baby. Listen to me. I don’t want to go home. I’ll admit, it’s a little cramped on here sometimes, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you. Hell, I’ll go on a million tours with you if it means we can be together. I love you, okay?” You kissed him on the forehead.

Joey looked relieved. “Thank fucking God. I was trying to be caring or whatever but I really didn’t want you to go. I’ll go insane if I have to do this without you. I love you too.” You laughed and gently ruffled his hair as you went back to washing dishes. “Good thing I’m not leaving anytime soon. You can’t get rid of me, Joey, I’m like a plague.” You flicked dishwater at him, and he fake-complained. “Babe, watch the shirt!”

Things were quiet for a few minutes as you washed the dishes and Joey looked over the letters he’d been given by fans, and then after about 15 minutes, Joey spoke up. “You know, you could come with me to the concerts if you wanted to. I know they get really loud, but you could stand on the side of the stage and you could wear earplugs or headphones or whatever.” You thought it over for a moment.

“You know what? That sounds like fun. I’ll go!” Joey perked up and smiled. “Okay, sounds good. You can be like my cheerleader. Ew, why did I say that? Ignore me. Don’t be a fucking cheerleader. Just be you.” You giggled. “Aw, no, why can’t I be a cheerleader? I’ll wear a mini skirt and do a cute little chant for you!” Joey playfully rolled his eyes. “I love you, but I’ll call security on you if you do that, baby.”

You smirked. “They can’t catch me. Anyway, maybe I can hang out during the VIP meet and greet and meet some of your fans!” Joey grimaced. “I don’t know about that. One of the fans I met earlier said something about trying to steal you from me if they ever met you.” You grinned. “Really? Were they cute?” Joey threw a napkin at you, which you dodged as you burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

——————————-

“Fuck, that was epic!” You followed Joey onto the tour bus, the both of you sweaty as hell and extremely tired. It was about 1 in the morning, and the two of you had just gotten back from the concert. Joey’s hair was wild, and his mask was pushed up on his head. He tiredly sat down on one of the couches and grinned. “Yeah?” The rest of the band had decided to go out and party at a bar for a little bit, so it was just the two of you. “Yeah! You guys rocked!”

He rested his head against the wall. “My bones hurt.” You pouted. “Aw, poor baby.” He good-naturedly flipped you off, and you laughed as you plopped down next to him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “Ew, baby, you’re sweaty.” He rolled his eyes. “Love you too. And you’re not exactly one to talk. I don’t even know how you managed to sweat at all, considering all you did was watch us perform.”

You shrugged. “Who knows? Either way, we need to shower and go to sleep so you don’t wake up in the morning cranky again.” Joey glared. “I’m not cranky in the morning.” You walked towards the tour bus’s shower and smirked. “Whatever you say, Jordison. Come on, I’m tired and my shirt is practically glued to my body.” He begrudgingly got up and followed you to the bathroom. “I’m using your shampoo this time. It smells better than mine.”

Within an hour, the two of you were showered and in bed, you in one of his tshirts and a pair of his boxers. “Why the hell aren’t they back yet? Assholes.” You laughed. “They probably just got arrested for vandalism or something, don’t worry. Now go to bed before I knock you out myself.” Joey cuddled up to you and laid his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes. “Night, baby. I love you.” You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Love you too.”

Joey quickly fell asleep, and you stared up at the ceiling, feeling happier than you’d ever been. Life on tour could be crazy, and cramped, and sometimes even a little boring, but being with Joey was better than anything else. You’d put up with a thousand nights of craziness and drunk bandmates and being sweaty if it meant he’d always be with you. No matter what happened, it was you and him, putting up with the tour life together. That’s tour life, baby.

#joey jordison #joey jordison x reader #slipknot #slipknot x reader #slipknot imagines #corey taylor #heavy metal #industrial metal #industrial rock

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shadow-dancing · 4 years

Text

Guitar Man (Taeil)

Listen: Guitar Man ; Every time I’m With You ; New Kid in Town

Genre: white collar worker!Taeil, guitarist!Taeil, some angst, moonlighting Words: 2, 217

It was another crowded night at Pandora's Box, the pub in town that your uncle owned. Lately there has been a guitar playing man who was drawing in hoards of people to visit, & your uncle couldn't be happier by the boom in business. You weren't into pubs or bars—the stale air & smell of booze was a big turn off for your sensitive sense of smell, & the songs that usually blared at a billion decibels were not your cup of tea. Your uncle was singing this guitar man praises every night when he came home from work, & it was driving you slightly mad.

Your friend, Taeyong, was absolutely floored that you have never heard this person live when your uncle literally ran the place. "Come on, Y/N, the guy's great! Just go listen once, trust me."

You gave in after 3 weeks, & visited the establishment on a Monday night where you hoped the crowds would be less compared to the weekends. The pub air hit your nostrils like a sucker punch & you silently gagged as you made your way to the bar. You recognized the bartender, it was Johnny, the gentle giant whom you've known since your uncle opened the place about 3 years ago.

"Hey Y/N! What're you doing here?" Johnny asked with a wave. He was aware you were not a big fan of pubs.

"Came to see the newest sensation, of course," you smiled wryly, sitting gingerly on the bar stool.

"Ah, Taeil. He's great, the bars been busier than Times Square on New Year's Eve these past weeks. I think boss is considering hiring him permanently," Johnny nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll get Kun to make some fish & chips for you."

Soon you were tucking into your fish & chips with some iced Ribena. It was starting to get really crowded, & Johnny eventually got busy enough that he was making 3 drinks at the same time. You were tempted to leave; the amount of people in the relatively large space was probably over the maximum capacity at this point, & people had to jostle their ways around trying to find seats. At 7:45 the band that was playing stopped, said their thanks, & got off the stage. A relatively short young man, clad in a striped shirt under an oversized denim jacket & his dark hair side swept, took their place, a black guitar case slung over his shoulder & a bottle of water in hand. The crowd started murmuring excitedly, which gave you all you needed to know—this young man was Taeil. You were startled by his appearance when he turned around—he was wearing a white half mask to cover the upper half of his face.

Taeil adjusted the mic to fit his smaller stature, & perched on the stool that had been brought out for him. You watched as he produced an acoustic guitar from the case, & tuned it. He cleared his throat, took a quick sip of water, cleared his throat once more, & leaned into the mic a little.

"Good evening everyone—"

The crowd interrupted him with hoots & cheers. You rolled your eyes. Let the man speak, dammit.

Taeil smiled politely as the cheers died down. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

You pushed aside your empty plate, sipping your drink. A hush fell over the crowd as Taeil started playing.

"Are we going insane? Do we need to explain? I feel like we know it."

Your heart leaped. Taeyong & Johnny were wrong—he wasn't just good, he was damn good. The crowd slowed their activities, their eyes trained on him as he sang. The kitchen grew quieter as Johnny & Kun paused a moment to listen.

"I could lose it all it won't be daunting Somehow I don't think I'd even care Cuz every time I'm with you I feel wanted We could make believers if we dared"

As he finished the song, the people sighed; some wiped their tears & kissed their significant others, while others wallowed in loneliness. Taeil realized the mixed reaction & wanted to stammer an apology, but the crowd burst into applause & screamed for another song. He took a swig of water & started on the next song.

"Baby I don't know why, but somehow I always seem to get tangled up in my pride"

Taeil's set ended at 9.30, much to the dismay of the crowd. He waved shyly as he hopped off the stage & disappeared through a back door. Johnny & Kun resumed their work. & you gulped down the rest of your drink. Taeil's set was over, there no longer was a reason to hang around. As you lay in bed later that night, your heart was still pounding, the sweet vocals resonating in you ears.

You found yourself at the pub after work the next day. Johnny looked up as you approached, & you knew he could tell you couldn't get enough of Taeil. At the same time as yesterday, Taeil took the stage at 7:45, & today he asked the band to accompany him as he played a rendition of Got My Mind Set On You, Oh Pretty Woman, & Part Time Lover.

"Okay break time everyone! I need to hydrate!" Taeil laughed, leaving the mic.

He squeezed past his adoring fans & made it to the bar, where he asked for some lemon tea. Johnny handed it to him, & he downed it pretty fast, almost choking on the ice.

"You okay?" You asked, offering some serviettes.

"Yeah, fine. Forgot my bottle," Taeil reassured. He flashed you a smile, before heading off to the stage again.

--------------------------------------------------------

Taeil scrubbed a hand over his eyes as the sun started to hang low. Work was exhausting as always, & he was more than ready to just up & leave the place. He glanced at his watch—4:55PM. 5 more minutes & he could clock out. He looked around to see what his colleagues were up to; Jungwoo was yawning widely as he typed away at his laptop, Yuta was scrawling away busily on some paper, probably doodling, & Jaehyun had his earphones plugged in—Taeil could make out some TV drama playing on Jaehyun's Netflix account. Taeil exhaled, glancing at his watch again.

Another 2 minutes to freedom.

He pushed his papers aside, pulling out a binder full of guitar chords from his bag. He flipped through the sheets to find a song to play at the pub. Are You Lonesome Tonight seemed good for a first song, maybe for the second song he could play—

"Aw yes! Finally time to leave this place!" Yuta announced loudly, standing up to stretch his arms.

"Not so loud! Do you want the boss to hear?" Taeil hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

"He left like 45 minutes ago," Jungwoo pointed out, shutting off his laptop.

"What? Really?" Jaehyun asked, taking his earphones out.

"Seriously? I thought you were watching that stupid TV drama because you knew he was gone!" Jungwoo exclaimed.

"No, I watched it because I don't want to do work. Tomorrow's a holiday for heaven's sakes why are we even here when we could've taken the day off."

"Oh whatever let's just get out of here," Yuta grumbled, packing up. "The pool table at Daydream is calling my name."

"Taeil, you joining us for pool?" Jungwoo asked. "Yuta is gonna go up against Doyoung later."

"No it's fine, I have something to do tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow, bye," Taeil said as he walked out the door.

He quickly got into his car, & drove home for a quick rinse. He found a clean shirt & threw on a black jacket & was out the door again with his guitar in hand. He was glad the owner of Pandora's Box let him play; he was tired of the tedious routine of his work days, & playing for the crowd for 1.5 hours was the one thing he looked forward to everyday, even if it meant he had to take a 2 hour drive to the pub. He had chanced upon the pub after the previous place he used to frequent got shut down due to poor business. He didn't even realize the crowds got less, as he was so focused on his playing.

Traffic was lighter than usual today, to which Taeil chalked up to being related to tomorrow being a public holiday, & most probably took the day off to make it a long weekend. He parked in his usual spot, & entered the front discreetly. It was pretty early, so there were only a handful of people inside. Johnny, the bartender, looked up as Taeil approached.

"Hey man, you're early today," he noted.

"Yeah, traffic was good. Can I get some water?"

Johnny slid him a glass of water.

"Is that musician gonna play tonight?"

Taeil almost choked on his water as he accidentally eavesdropped on the conversation of the fellas at the table behind him.

"I should think so."

"Tsk. What's so great about him? He just sings songs & strums his guitar. Anyone can do it!"

"Uh, I mean, not everyone has the—"

"Pass me a guitar & I could sing as good as him."

"Can you even play guitar."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it does, you nitwit."

Taeil was mildly amused by the exchange, but also by the fact they thought they might like to take his place. In no way did he believe he was superior over them, but being a musician wasn't as easy as prancing on the stage with a guitar.

He wowed the crowd as always that night, and at 9.25 he looked at his binder stuffed with sheet music. What shall his final song be?

You watched intently form your seat, Taeyong cheering next to you; Taeil was absolutely glowing tonight, & everyone was all ears. He sang Elvis, & even played Piano Man by Billy Joel. You noticed the crowd seemed to be a little thin today, yet it didn't faze Taeil. He adjusted his mask, & picked up his guitar. A familiar set of chords filled your ears, & you inhale deeply.

"There's talk on the street it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you."

You bit your lip slightly. What could Taeil possibly mean by playing this song? Was it just a song for tonight or did he have some intention to sing it?

"Johnny come lately The new kid in town Everybody loves you So don't let them down"

The rest of the crowd did not seem to be worried by the song. After all, why should they? The guitar man was simply here to serenade them with his angelic vocals to help them forget about life for a while. You take a swig of your Ribena. You were probably just overthinking things. After all, this song was about fleeting romance. You glanced at Taeyong briefly, & he catches your eye. He smiles, & you feel your heart skip a beat.

"There's talk on the street, it's there to remind you Doesn't really matter which side you're on You're walking away, and they're talking behind you They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along"

As the pub emptied for closing, Taeil sat at the bar with a glass of water. Johnny was mopping up the beer some patron had spilled all over the floor, grumbling about how uncouth some people can get. Kun was singing softly in the kitchen as he washed up the dirty dishes in the sink, while his kitchen assistants cleaned the stoves & countertops. Taeil thumbed the rim of his glass, suddenly tired. Boy was he glad tomorrow was a holiday cuz he intended to sleep in late.

"You did well today, Taeil," the bar owner said as he rearranged the tables & chairs.

"Thank you, sir."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, sir, just tired," Taeil admitted.

"Not surprised, you did go all out tonight," the owner nodded. "If you're too tired to make the drive home I think Johnny can let you stay in his place, can you Johnny?"

Johnny gave a thumbs up.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine."

The lightbulb above Taeil flickered. The bar owner frowned at it, muttering he should get a replacement bulb for that. Taeil stayed until the owner had to escort his employees out. Sitting in the driver seat of his car, Taeil watched as the lights went out before starting his car.

It was time to leave.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Is the Guitar Man coming back?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"I hope he does. He was fantastic."

Johnny looked up. The crowds were less now that Taeil hasn't returned to play for the past 5 days. The boss had called Taeil out of concern 3 days ago, lord knows what could've happened that night that he insisted on driving back despite his tiredness, & Taeil answered that he’s gone elsewhere to play. The boss was disappointed, but understood that sensations tend to fade out after their 15 minutes of fame.

Johnny returned to his chores; he too had been disappointed to hear Taeil left to go elsewhere to sing. Maybe one day the guitar man would return.

#nct taeil #nct taeil imagines #nct taeil scenarios #nct taeil fanfiction #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 taeil #au:guitar man

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silver-wield · 4 years

Note

I’m curious as to what you think about the friendship between Tifa & Aerith with the remake & if you have any (possibly in-depth) analysis of their friendship? Watching them interact during the remake really made me think about how much Tifa cares for Aerith & vise versa. I love how their friendship progresses over the game. I hope we get to see more of it in future games. I’m all about Cloti but I also love whatever Tifa & Aerith got going on for themselves, just the ladies lol

I gotchu, nonny!

About time we show everyone these girls can get along and hopefully people will stop trying to erase one of them!

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven't played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it's gonna be a VERY long one so prepare to scroll.

Also, this is one person's interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that's cool and we'll agree to disagree.

You're also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I'm grabbing them from Youtube and it's frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone's interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis)

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog)

Tifa character analysis

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I've had other ideas since then)

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti)

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis

Cloti reunion analysis

The Promise Analysis

Andrea's approval (Cloti ask response)

Cloti action touching

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Before the recap I'm just gonna say the vid I'm taking this from is over 20m of them being friends and they didn't even meet until late in chapter 9 and they weren't even together after chapter 12 and only reunited in chapter 17, so if they can manage to become bffs in such a short amount of time then yall warships can calm your chill too.

Oh and I'm also throwing in some Cloti asides since Cloud is in all of this too and I wanna lol. Maybe next disc we'll get more of the girls without the leading man.

Quick recap for anyone who's forgotten the series of events.

Tifa's gone to get info out of Don Corneo at Wall Market and asked Cloud to go back to Sector 7: “You've seen how much ass I can kick”

Aerith's decided that's a bad idea, so they head in and jump through a series of side quest hoops to get them inside Corneo's place.

After the goons knock them out and take them to the basement, Cloud wakes up and sees Tifa, who asks if he's ok. After his embarrassing moment where he remembers he's wearing a dress in front of his crush, Aerith wakes up.

Eugh, I've mentioned the utterly janky quality on some of my screenshots right? There's a split second after this where Aerith is beaming at Tifa that I'm trying to capture but it’s just not happening.

Okay, so Aerith has literally just woken up and the first thing she does is bounce over to Tifa and introduce herself, all smiles and cheer. Tifa for her part is confused but polite because who is this girl? This is pretty simple from Tifa's pov. She is just confused, but polite. There's no signs of “rawr that's my man over there you can't touch”.

Aerith is like that one kid who's always first to greet new people. She's very much the extrovert, compared to Tifa's introvert.

(Bonus: Grumpy Cloud is grumpy. It's like he expects Tifa to be more responsible when he hears her insane plan lol)

So, after hearing Tifa's story and hearing the obvious concern in her voice, Aerith jumps in to reassure her. You'll notice she's leaning forward with open arms. This is simplistic body language, she's being open and earnest. Tifa has her full attention on Aerith, so she's listening without any signs of dismissing her – even though they've literally just met and she has no idea what Aerith is like or what she might say.

(Bonus: Cloud rolling his eyes. He thinks they're both crazy lol)

Responsible Tifa makes a return here! After Aerith's done enthusiastically throwing all of them to the wolves, Tifa shows concern. She knows Cloud and she can fight, but she's worried Aerith will get hurt because of her. This is a girl she's just met and we've seen how she is with strangers (shinra middle manager), so going along with Aerith's idea with no reservations wouldn't be her. Both girls have semi-relaxed body language. Their poses are mirrored, so there's no one is better than the other here. They're meeting as equals.

(Bonus: Cloud appears to be looking at Tifa's butt in this screen lol)

So, we're out of the basement and dealing with rapists. Fuuuun. FF7 really went there back in the day huh? Tifa and Aerith are on the same page, you'll see. They're both disgusted. Aerith probably more so than Tifa, who I expect is a little more used to dealing with scumbags who don't take no for an answer. Semi mirrored body language – Aerith has her hands protectively in front of her while Tifa's are by her sides so that she can better strike a fighting pose.

(Bonus: Cloud at this moment in time is calling Corneo a depraved bastard lol)

Aerith's little eyebrow raise and knowing look here. Now, she doesn't actually know how much ass Tifa can kick, but it looks like she suspects anyone who knows Cloud has skills. Not to mention he told Aerith that Tifa can handle herself. (Or maybe it's meta!Aerith, who knows?) She's expectant, anyway and Tifa delivers. Not to mention the teasing dialogue the goons mistake for being sexy. But that's what douchebags get.

Vicious Aerith is vicious lol I just wanted to add this one because it's a great expression for her and actually shows a different emotion from her besides her typical mask of cheer. She actually looks convincingly dangerous here, unlike most of the time when she's about as threatening as a cupcake lol

So Aerith kicks the douchebag and Tifa follows up in a seamless display of co-op that showcases her fighting skills. She takes Aerith's lead and goes for it.

Then comes the fight scene. Massive co-op between the girls. Tifa protects Aerith at one point, who uses the opportunity to grab a makeshift weapon.

Tifa is the disciplined fighter using her Zangan martial arts and Aerith...uses a chair lol

I have to admit that's one of my favourite moments with her in the entire game. It also fits with the expression she pulled at the start of the fight – that vicious look showed just how far she'll go when she wants to win.

Both girls, all smiles, complimenting each other for a job well done! What else is there to say about this? Oh, yeah, neither of them needs a lesson in how to high five lol

Remember, they've just met like an hour ago, if that. They're already high fiving and getting along.

Ok, so we've moved on from Corneo's place and now we're in the sewers. Here's where we hit a change in behaviour from Aerith. She's no longer the bouncy puppy jollying everyone along to be cheerful and optimistic. She's now become very serious and grave. She could choose to reassure Tifa that the slums are safe, but instead she urges them to hurry. This is likely another instance of meta!Aerith knowing things before they happen.

Tifa is very in her own space during this section of the game; she's worried about her friends and her home, so there's a sense of urgency in all her dialogue. Worry is clear in her tone and Aerith empathises with that and reinforces the need to get back.

You'll notice in most of these moments between them that we're looking over Tifa's shoulder. That's her perspective we're getting, as opposed to when we get scenes with Cloud when we're standing in a third party location watching both. This is deliberate framing so that we relate to Tifa in this situation. We’re looking at Aerith with some distance, but a human perspective rather than an omniscient one.

(Bonus: Cloud still takes the time to flirt with Tifa by reminding her of their little “sayings” interaction from chapter 3)

About halfway through the sewers and the gang has to cross a manky water way. Cloud goes first, leaving Tifa and Aerith behind. Tifa is still worrying about what Corneo said. Her body language, expression and voice all convey a deep fear of what will happen.

Aerith, though probably meta!Aerith, again doesn't act how she did when they first met, which is to reassure her things will be ok. She's become very serious and quiet, unlike how she was in the beginning. Her face here clearly says she knows they won't stop the plate from falling, but I think she knows if she says anything it would just make things worse. She and Tifa are only just sort of friends at this point, so she probably believes it isn't right to confide in her when she's already worried about so many people.

You'll see again the perspective is Tifa's and she notices that something is wrong with Aerith. Despite having so many other concerns, she notices that Aerith looks down. Her question is that of someone wanting to have all the information about the worst case scenario, but before she can find out anything Cloud tells them to keep moving (nice timing)

And now we're at the crossing bit. Tifa's made her way over and waits with Cloud for Aerith. Tifa's very encouraging at this point, reassuring Aerith that she's almost across. Once the platform topples into the muck, she reaches out a hand and pulls her to safety. This is another example of Tifa being the protector.

(Bonus: Cloud grabs Tifa when she staggers.)

“Then it's a date.”

It's likely that by this point Aerith has realised Tifa is spiralling with worry. She offers words of comfort and says to think of something fun. They agree to go shopping, and Tifa suggests bringing Cloud along to carry their stuff (lol bf role)

What's interesting is their contrasting body language here. When Tifa lowers her guard she puts both hands behind her back, opening herself up. It's a vulnerable position for a fighter to be in.

Aerith does the opposite. She's put her hands in front of herself in a protective gesture. This makes me think that even though she's being genuine with Tifa, she's holding something back from her as well. This is likely another meta!Aerith moment because she's aware of her approaching death and doesn't want to make too deep a bond with any of the group.

(Bonus: flirty little lean forward and “nothing” from Tifa when Cloud asks what they said about him)

“I saved her, she saved me”

I know that's a line from Cloud, but it applies to Tifa and Aerith too. Tifa saved Aerith from the sludge and now Aerith grabs Tifa's hand to pull her to safety from the collapsing walkway.

Aerith knows she can rely on Tifa to help her and now Tifa knows the same.

Now, I've seen a theory floating that whenever Aerith touches someone she shows them a vision of OG canon. I'm taking this moment to point out that even though she grabs Tifa's hand, you can see she never touches her skin. Idk if this theory is right – I've not examined every time she touches someone – but it's an interesting idea.

(Bonus: Cloud pulling his “oh shit, Tifa in trouble I must rescue” face as the walkway caves in)

YAAS TEAMWORK!! They're more in sync than in the Don's place as they automatically work together to save Cloud, who looks annoyed that he didn't make it on his own lol

After that it's further into the sewers until we get to the waterpump minigame (I hated this).

Cloud is about to suggest he goes, but Tifa cuts him off, so she and Aerith head over to do it. Now, I was expecting some kind of chat between them or some kind of war hint, but it was literally just the minigame and nothing else. I guess the absence of something is something too?

And this is probably the only shipwar image in the entire game, so take it in, people.

I don't like it. I didn't like how it made me not like Aerith after everything she and the others have gone through until this point. Her dialogue towards Tifa is meaner than any other time and I feel like this is OG Aerith – the one yall expected. She mentions Cloud is “her” bodyguard – something Tifa wasn't even aware of since it's never been mentioned until this point and Tifa looks hurt by the way Aerith is talking to her. That's not jealousy on her face. She's dismayed this person she thought was a friend is acting not like a friend. The fact Cloud notices this and backs up Tifa's side by saying “Ghosts aren't my thing” is evidence he supports her and won't let anyone hurt her.

This is not a nice image. Hope the OG fans enjoyed it though and I hope it's the only shipwar reference Square makes. Tifa's worried/scared, which has more to do with the ghosts. Cloud is ambivalent; he's being SOLDIER Cloud. Aerith is enjoying the chaos she’s caused.

And the nasty shipwar moment is over and they're back to being friends again. Tifa's fear through this section of the game makes her cling to Aerith when the lights go out. Aerith, for her part, calls Tifa to her, so that she can look after her. It's a nice moment to rebalance their friendship after that earlier bullshit.

Tifa looks worried – although I've said before her default expression is pensive, which makes sense considering her personality.

Aerith doesn't look afraid at all. She looks curious. One of them wants to be there and the other very much doesn't lol

(Bonus: Cloud grabbing Tifa and protecting her is everything)

And we're past the bit with the ghosts stealing Aerith away and Cloud and Tifa rescue her.

Tifa crouches down and comforts Aerith. She's kind and sympathetic and you'll also notice that this is the first time we're seeing Tifa from Aerith's pov. This is what Aerith sees when she looks at Tifa. Someone kind who came to help her. A friend. Tifa smiles and offers her hand, reinforcing their friendship and that she'll be there to support Aerith.

(Bonus: Cloud and Tifa's complementary body language here towards Aerith really highlights how much in sync they are. They both touch the same shoulder and have similar poses. They really look like a couple whose goal is protecting their friend.)

And now in a reversal we have Aerith comforting Tifa. This is hollow comfort, however, since Aerith knows what's about to happen and they can't stop it. This is evidenced by the fact we can’t see Aerith’s eyes. Her expression is concealed. This doesn't stop her from reaching for Tifa because she sympathises with her struggle.

Tifa saves Aerith again, this time from falling pipes. Their friendship is growing, although at times it feels one sided. Tifa is the protector, looking after Aerith, while Aerith is the one who relies on Tifa. It goes towards Tifa's maturity, compared to Aerith's free-spirit. Tifa is the responsible protector, while Aerith doesn't have to be because she's got people who look after her.

This could be another instance of meta!Aerith, since she's very calm when she says this and doesn't try to stop Tifa. She might know that Tifa will be ok if she goes. Her word choice is....odd. It's not really her heart Tifa's following, it's her principles. She can't stand by and let people get hurt when she can do something about it. But the way Aerith says this line is pretty telling. There's actually a big difference when meta!Aerith is on the scene compared to OG Aerith – who is annoying af.

It's the mark of a fast friendship that Aerith can tell this about Tifa, that she needs to go help, but then again, it's also not that hard to figure Tifa out when she's so open. I can't think of a single instance in the game when Tifa isn't straight as an arrow.

So, we've had very few moments when we're looking at Tifa through Aerith's pov. And now we're back looking at Aerith through Tifa's pov. The look on Aerith's face is very serene and reminds me of the one in the bar when she saw the flower. That definitely suggests to me that this is meta!Aerith and that's who has been building friendships this time around and not OG Aerith – who is still annoying af.

I'm further convinced of this when Aerith mentions Marlene and the look on Tifa's face is all “What?” while Aerith's suggests she knows exactly where to find Marlene, what she looks like, how old she is, when her birthday is and what she had for breakfast.

An unspoken communication passes between them. Lots of micro expressions here and some quiet hums and nods. I mean, if we're at telepathy then they're definitely friends.

Despite being reserved, Tifa grabs Aerith's hands in gratitude. For someone who doesn't display physical affection a lot, this is meaningful for Tifa. She trusts Aerith and she's relying on her to save Marlene. She's grateful and doesn't have the words to express it. She just nods, once, and her eyes are damp like she's trying not to cry.

And one last teamwork shot because look, neither of these girls needed lessons how to high ten...Cloud lol

Ok, the last one is the most important – typical.

Tifa's asked Aerith if she's ok a lot over the course of the game – which is a lot a lot when you think how little time they had together. This is the first time Aerith asks after Tifa's wellbeing. It's probably one of the few times anyone asks how Tifa's doing and they don't mean physical condition. Sure, Cloud asks, but we know why. Everyone else assumes Tifa can handle it. Tifa says she can, so it must be true. Even when she's shaking from repressing her urge to cry. Even when she can't sleep at night.

I noticed this my first playthrough because it stood out, and it's meant to stand out. This concern from Aerith to Tifa and Tifa to Aerith is mirrored through their interactions. It's supposed to make you think better of the girl who isn't part of your ship. It's supposed to make you draw a line under OG Aerith and Tifa's jealous rivalry and start thinking of them as friends. Because they are friends.

Conclusion:

The devs tried to end the ship war by making the girls more friendly towards each other in hopes that yall would stop bashing the one you don't like. These girls clearly have little rivalry going on. They're supportive, kind, open and understanding towards each other. Their friendship is one of my favourite things in the game and did actually go a long way to making me like Aerith – did I mention I hate OG Aerith?

Instead of arguing who Cloud loves more, why not try appreciating each girl for the qualities she brings to the overall game and to each other's life?

Aerith likes Tifa. Tifa likes Aerith.

#final fantasy 7 remake spoilers #Aerti analysis #Tifa #Aerith #final fantasy 7 remake analysis #friendship is the best ship

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thenafics · 5 years

Text

Evil Author Day -- 2020

I saw this going around and I both wanted to feel included and have several WIPs that are probably not going to see the light of day for a long time. Most of these have titles already because I am incapable of writing a fic without having a title first~~~

1. Trouble in the Henhouse- AKA Red Hood joins the Suicide Squad

Amanda Waller thinks she might have made a mistake with the newest member to her team. She’s let the fox into the hen house, except her hens are insane criminals and her fox is a bat who also happens to be an insane criminal. The metaphor starts to deteriorate quickly, but the point remains, this choice might have been the worst one she’s made in a good long while. He is an accident waiting to happen and one of the most deadly assets she has ever managed to get her hands on. He doesn’t kill for money, like Deadshot, or hunger, like Croc, or even some deranged showmanship, like Harley does or Joker’s Daughter did. He kills when he thinks it’s right, because he thinks the target deserves it and that is the most terrifying thing to find in a highly trained killer she’s putting onto a team with a lot of the same type of people he has a habit of offing. Whoops.

2. Ghosts of our Better Natures

Tim can tell the instant that Scarecrow’s formula really starts to kick in. He sees the way Jason’s body language shifts, his muscles pulling his limbs in tighter, in spite of the restraints holding him down. Judging from the smirk just visible on Scarecrow’s sack-cloth face, he notices too. “Is my new formula finally kicking in?” His high, grating voice overlays over the sounds of Jason’s harsh breathing. “Looks like the big, bad drug lord has a bit of a tolerance. I doubt I’ll even need to use half as much on your little friend over there.” Scarecrow gestures broadly at Tim where he’s tied up against the wall and then claps his hands with fake glee. “I know what we’ll do! We’ll use all of the extra I’m saving on him for you!” Jason wrenches at his restraints, eyes wild behind his domino mask, but he remains uncharacteristically silent. He looks over at Tim and another wave of panic seems to crash over him. His struggles increase in strength to the point where Tim can hear the groaning of the rusty bolts holding Jason down.

3. Rafters for Roustabouts- JayRoy based on a piece of fanart I saw and can no longer find

Roy remembers when Jason was just a skinny little twig of a thing trailing after Nightwing with his spindly limbs and closed off smiles. The first time they’d met, Jason had looked up at him and blushed so hard that Roy was a little worried he might pass out from all the blood rushing to his head. Jason was in the Tower pretty infrequently, but any time he was there, Roy could be sure to find him either abandoning Dick for Donna (who he had immediately latched onto, like a baby bird imprinting on what it thinks is its mother) or acting as Roy’s shadow. Roy could often tell when Jason was visiting well before Dick told him because of the glimpses of inky black hair he would catch out of the corner of his eye. Eventually Roy got tired of waiting for Jason to stop being so shy. “Hey, Jason, I know you’ve got that whole stealth thing going for you, but it’s much easier to make friends if you just talk to people.” There was a muted thump and a little yelp as Jason fell down from the rafter he’d been perched on. Roy made his way over to him and crouched down to look more closely at Jason. The younger boy was blushing furiously and had his hands pressed firmly over his eyes, almost as if he thought if he couldn’t see Roy, Roy might not see him. Roy let out a little huff of laughter. “You’re just a little shy, aren’t you Jaybird?” Jason just burrowed further into his hands and seemed ready to just wait until Roy left so that he could tend to his bruised pride and tailbone.

4. Chapter 2 of Release of Liability- My very self indulgent Dresden Files fusion au that nobody asked for or wanted. *Knowledge of the Dresden Files universe up to like, book one/two is v. helpful*

Wayne manor is steeped in the type of magic that can make a place a living thing. This is the home of one of the most powerful wizards in America and has been the home of an incredibly powerful magical family for centuries. There’s history in these walls beyond what the outside world will ever know. All of the wall fixtures are old fashioned gas lamps retrofitted with lightbulbs. It’s a darker paint job and some cobwebs away from being the house from the Addam’s family.

Bruce Wayne himself leads me further into the house and to what I assume must be his office. An older man appears almost the exact moment we sit down and offers tea in a clipped British accent. He disappears as silently as he appeared and rematerializes just moments later carrying a tray laden with tea and those fancy little sandwiches they always show on the BBC. Wayne thanks him and dismisses him with a soft “Thank you,” before the man is gone again.

“So, Mr.Dresden, I hear you’re good at finding lost things.”

“I tend to be. Though I have to wonder what use a practitioner of your caliber could have for my services. With all of Gotham at your disposal.”

“The situation requires a somewhat delicate approach.” I can’t help but snort in response. Delicate and I go together like oil and water. I am not who anyone should call for delicate, subtle, or any synonyms of that ilk. Wayne gives a wry smile and little laugh of his own.

“I misspoke. Not delicate, detached. I am well known to Gotham. You are not. I’ve heard wildcard is somewhat your area of expertise.”

“I’m not going to take offense at that because it’s true. What’s missing?”

Bruce Wayne fixes me with a paralyzing gaze and speaks two words that let me know this is going to be one of those cases that sticks with me.

“My son.”

Bruce Wayne is famous for several things in the magical community. His childhood trauma of witnessing his parents’ murder would make a YA author weep and left him the sole heir to one of America’s most notable magical lineages. That alone made him a Name, capital letter intended, in the world of the mystical. He also worked hard to actually become one of the most influential wizards in America and run Gotham with an iron fist. The most notable thing about Bruce Wayne however, is not either of those. It is his incredible and almost suspicious number of extremely powerful adopted children. A disturbing number of which share his jet black hair and blue eyes. I hope it’s just a weird narcissistic rich person thing.

He is well known to be very protective of his bevy of apprentices. To the point where he’d actually knocked out another wizard with a vicious right hook for making an untoward comment about his eldest son. It was a glorious day and I am thankful to have been within enough distance of the scene to see it go down. I am also thankful to have been far enough away that his fury didn’t turn to me. If something has happened to one of his beloved children, I have no doubts that Mr. Wayne will do whatever is necessary to save them. After the death of his second apprentice he’d practically torn apart the world at its seams in his grief.

5. Windows for Bricks-

“I’m here to pick up Damian. I guess I’m one of his emergency contacts and the lady on the phone said to sign in here before I could take him home.” Jason says to the nurse by the front of the sterile smelling room.

“Oh, are you,” she looks down at her computer screen “Jason Head?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Jason shifts uncomfortably.

“And you are his … “

“Brother. Same mom.”

“I see. We get Damian in here a lot so I see the resemblance. You have the same eyes”

6. Dialogue Snippet- Dick and Steph on the topic of ass envy

“He’s just jealous of my ass.”

“Yeah, no.”

“What do you mean no?” Dick sounds affronted.

“Have you seen his ass?,” Steph gestures expansively in the shape of an ass. A woman at the next table over glares. “Jay has no reason to be jealous Dick.”

“What.”

“And those thighs… unf.” The lady the next table over glares harder at the noise Steph makes.

“Ohmygod,” Dick buries his head in his hands. “Please stop.”

“What? I'm just saying, he's got no reason to be jealous when the dude is bammin slammin bootylicious”

“I'm pretending I don't know you. Can Tim take you back already?”

“Fine. But take a peek next time you and your ass feel so high and mighty”

7. Innocence for Sinners- JayDick prawn. I wrote this at the request of a friend. Very much not what I usually write, kind of nervous about posting it

*warning for Mature rating*

When he thinks about it, of course it makes sense to Dick that Jason is a virgin. He died before he’d even turned eighteen and spent a few years after that being either brain dead or criminally insane. It was really only in the past three or so years that Jason could be counted among the semi-rational members of the population and he had been so busy during that time span that there was no earthly way he had done anything. Still, Dick couldn’t help but be a little surprised when Jason pushes away from their kiss, while Dick’s hand rubs gentle circles over his crotch, and gasps out “No one’s ever touched me like that before.”

Dick pauses and pulls back fully, his weight between Jason’s spread legs still pinning the younger man to the bed.

“What do you mean Jason?,” he asks, seeking verbal confirmation for his suspicions. Jason blushes prettily and turns his head to one side, as if to escape the weight of Dick’s eyes. Dick reaches out and turns Jason’s face back towards him. His eyes trace the delicate flush that brings out the freckles across the bridge of Jason’s nose and blown out pupils in sea green eyes.

“Jason, are you a virgin?Am I going to be your first?” Jason blushes even further at the questions and nods mutely. Dick feels a rush of possessiveness pass through him at the idea of brash, rebellious, Jason being his. It only makes sense, after all, Jason had spent years wearing Dick’s colors and a month or so trying on the Nightwing suit for size. Of course Jason should be his in some other way. Dick leans back forward and kisses up Jason’s neck, ending up right by his ear.

“I’m going to ruin you for anybody else, little wing.” Jason shudders and lets out a soft moan as Dick scrapes his teeth against his neck in punctuation.

“Please,” Jason breathes out. Dick growls quietly and surges up to kiss Jason. He weaves his fingers through the curls of Jason’s hair and pulls slightly. Immediately, Jason gasps into Dick’s mouth and arches his back up off the bed. Dick chuckles and pulls harder. He is rewarded with a moan and a shudder from Jason.

“You like that Jaybird? When I pull your hair?” Dick laughs against Jason’s mouth when Jason nods with downcast eyes. “Let’s find out what else you like.”

Dick leaves one hand in Jason’s hair and worms the other up under Jason’s shirt, brushing over the hard lines of muscle and scar tissue. He thumbs over one of Jason’s nipples gently and feels a slight shudder run through Jason’s body. Taking that as a positive sign, he rolls it between his index finger and thumb. Jason gasps and tosses his head back, breaking the kiss.

“Dick,” he gasps out, “That feels so, ah, good.” Dick smirks and rolls the nipple again “Aaaaaaah.” Dick pulls his other hand from Jason’s hair and starts using it to push Jason’s shirt up while he brings his mouth down to Jason’s stomach, kissing over the places where his hands had traced over.

“Wait, Dick!,” Jason calls out, panting for breath. Dick looks up at Jason’s flushed face. “I… I have a lot of scars there. Some of them might not be ones that you want to see…” Jason trails off towards the end of his sentence and avoids eye contact with Dick until Dick uses his free hand to gently pull Jason to face him. Dick can see in this flustered and blushing Jason the same boy who had been so shyly admiring of him all those years ago. This shy virginal Jason is far more little red riding hood than the big bad wolf that the Red Hood pretends to be.

“I want all of you Jason. All of you.” Dick says softly. He gently pulls the shirt all the way off of Jason, manipulating the younger man’s arms so that he can remove it. Once the shirt is off, he kisses up Jason’s chest to the top of the Y-shaped scar that stretches from collarbone to collarbone and bisects his body from mid-chest to belly button. Dick mouths gently across the raised tissue and grinds his hips down against Jason’s. Jason can only gasp wordlessly in response as Dick uses his right hand to trace down and past the long tail of the scar to the top of Jason’s jeans. He pops the button and undoes the fly with one hand. When he starts to shimmy Jason’s jeans and boxers down, Jason lifts his hips and practically whines. Dick slides down Jason’s body and sits up in order to pull the pants off all the way before settling himself back between his legs.

“Your thighs are gorgeous.” Dick doesn’t even try to hold back a moan at all the exposed skin before him, some spots criss-crossed with thin lines left from slashes and stab wounds or spotted with starbursts from gunshots. He takes a moment to appreciate the way Jason’s waist cuts in and then flares out to almost feminine hips and thick, muscular thighs. Dick slides his hands under the small of Jason’s back and inches them down to the top of Jason’s ass.

“Really? You like them?” Jason asks, blushing.

“Babe, I love them. It should be against the law for you to wear pants. It’s practically a crime to keep all this hidden under your jeans.” Dick kneads at the soft flesh of Jason’s ass.

“Says the one who’s all covered up,” Jason gasps out. There’s Dick’s Jason, blushing and innocent, but still talking back.

“Let’s fix that then,” Dick chuckles and slowly removes his hands, giving one last squeeze on his way. Dick peels off his t-shirt, deliberately twisting his body and putting on a show for Jason who watches with rapt attention. Dick smiles softly at the awestruck look on Jason’s face before making quick work of the clasps on his pants and shimmying out of them completely. Dick bends down and starts to kiss up Jason’s left leg, starting at his calves and working up to his thighs. Once he gets to the sensitive skin on Jason’s inner thighs, he takes his time pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin there. Dick scrapes his teeth against the skin as he pulls away from a kiss about halfway up Jason’s thigh and feels the strong muscles underneath tremble. Smirking, he repeats the action and looks up to watch Jason. The younger vigilante is struggling to hold his composure, but Dick wants to watch him fall apart completely. So he lowers his mouth back down to Jason’s thighs and bites down. At that, Jason arches off the bed hard and lets out the loudest moan Dick has heard from him so far.

8. Runneth Over and all that Jazz- incomplete work for day 7 of Omega Jason Todd Week -Lactation kink au heavily inspired by @whumpbby and @daemoninwhiteround2 and all their stuff. A little R rated

If it weren’t for his chest, Jason would be nearly impossible to recognise as an omega. He’s taller and more muscular than most omegas so with his deep voice, no one would ever guess. If it weren’t for his body’s absolute betrayal. Jason, like pretty much all adult omegas, produces milk. It’s meant to help reinforce pack bonds and keep pups adopted into a pack fed. That’s not the problem, that part of it is manageable with absorbent pads in shirts and semi-regular use of a breast pump. It sucks, but it’s not the problem. The problem is that Jason’s pack bonds are weak, so his body will let down and start producing milk on a hair trigger. He’s peak fertile age and tangentially part of a mostly alpha pack, but not bonded well enough to balance his hormones, so his body has decided to try and tempt his pack into bonds with milk.

It’s a nuisance. He hears Bruce’s voice on the radio and a little dribble of milk escapes. Dick and Tim get into an argument and he can feel his breasts swelling with more milk. Cass gets injured and he ends up having to sneak off to change his shirt when she cuddles up to him for comfort. He saw Damian cry once and that was enough to get him leaking like a fountain and avoiding the bats for a few days. He knows at least one of them can probably smell the milk on him, but they have the good graces not to mention it so long as he doesn’t.

So Jason distances himself from the pack. He figures if he doesn’t see them, his body won’t decide to go into hormone overdrive. Except it just ends up compounding the problem. More time away from the pack means even weaker pack bonds, which ends up kicking his hormones into even higher gear than they would have been. Soon, Jason’s having to empty his milk every day, then twice a day, then eventually he has to break in the middle of patrol to empty his breasts so they aren’t incredibly sore as he’s flipping around rooftops. He switches from plain absorbent undershirts to nursing undershirts in all black so that if he leaks it won’t show. It’s gotten way out of hand but the only way to fix it is to either break his pack bonds entirely, which might make it worse, or go to the pack and suffer through some potentially very embarrassing bonding.

He shudders at the thought of his pack finally drinking from him. The vulnerability it would bring stirs up something like panic in his stomach mixed equally with want. Letting them know that he can be manipulated just because of a biological response would put him at a huge disadvantage. If they knew he could be made to let down and go into a pheromone drenched haze with some carefully chosen vocalizations they could use it to their advantage when Jason inevitably pisses one of them off. Still, something has to be done, his chest hurts so much that when he got hit there on patrol, he almost blacked out.

He decides to go to Tim first. The slightly younger man is the easiest for Jason to get along with, and despite his tendency for general sneakery, he has enough respect for what Jason does that he probably won’t use it against him too much. It’s a risk, but the potential for relief from the pain of his swollen nipples and frequent breast pump use are enough to take it. Tim is practical and doesn’t seem like the type to get physically aggressive. Even if he does, his small stature means that Jason should be able to escape. Hopefully he won’t be weird about it. Fingers crossed.

Jason knocks on the door of Tim’s apartment, about an hour before patrol typically starts. Tim answers the door looking sleep deprived as always with a mug of coffee in one hand. Jason gives him a sheepish smile and a half hearted wave, after which Tim gestures him into the apartment, one eyebrow raised in question. He shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Hi Jason. It’s been awhile. What are you doing here?” Just the sound of Tim’s voice is making his chest swell a little.

“Can’t I just come visit?”

“Of course you can, you know I like your company. You just usually … don’t. So… ”

Tim pins Jason in place with his calculating stare as he waits for a response. The silence is incredibly awkward for Jason because every second that passes he can feel the slight swelling inch closer and closer to potential leakage. He finally breaks when he feels a small dribble of milk start to leak from one nipple.

“I need your help.”

“A case?”

“No… “ Jason trails off, still unsure.

“Are you okay Jason?” Tim sets his coffee down and sits next to Jason on the couch. Their arms brush and Jason fucking gushes. If Tim couldn’t smell the milk on him before, he sure as hell can now if the way he sniffs the air is any indication.

“What’s wrong Jay? Why are you, umm, … “

“Leaking?”

Tim nods, nostrils flaring as a blush steals across his face.

“I’m letting down at the drop of a hat right now. I’m overproducing so much that I have to stop in the middle of patrols to pump. It hurts real bad.” Jason couldn't stop the whine from leaking into his tone if he tried. Tim unconsciously responds with a swell of alpha scent. The pheromones set Jason off again and he gasps as he involuntarily lets even more milk escape.

“Jason,” Tim’s voice is practically a whisper. “How can I help?” Jason takes a moment to steady himself under the force of Tim’s gaze, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see his reaction to the answer.

“ I need you to drink enough to solidify our pack bond.”

Tim makes an interested little noise in the back of his throat and places one delicate hand over Jason’s on his lap. He gives a gentle squeeze

“Are you making enough to do it in one go?”

“Were you even paying attention? Yes. I’m producing enough for the whole pack.”

“Why me? If you go off pack hierarchy aren’t you supposed to go to Bruce? Even if you don’t trust Bruce, you could have gone to Dick or Barbara.”

“If you’re not willing, I won’t pressure you.” Jason’s voice is flat as he starts to stand, but he’s stopped by Tim’s suddenly much stronger grip pulling him back to the couch.

“I never said that. I just want to know why you chose me before I potentially upset pack structure.”

“ ‘M more comfortable,” Jason mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “Dick’s too clingy and Babs still thinks I’m crazy most of the time. You’re … nice to me. Helpful.”

“You’re nice to me too Jason. We take care of each other.”

An unfamiliar throaty purr starts up in the back of Jason’s throat as Tim gently presses his shoulders back into the couch. He pushes up Jason’s shirt, making sure to be extra careful right around the chest area. An accidental brush from the back of his hand as he pulls the shirt off causes a whimper to interrupt Jason’s purring. Tim shushes him gently as he sets the shirt to the side in a crumpled ball. Jason glares at him until Tim sighs and folds the shirt semi-neatly. He rearranges himself until he’s draped halfway over Jason’s lap, face centimeters from touching Jason’s chest. Tim stares unashamedly at the plump flesh where he can see the wetness where milk has already escaped.

#thenafics #thenawrites #writing prompt #wip #wips #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Stephanie Brown #Damian Wayne #alternate universe #dresden files #harry dresden #roy harper #batfam #evil author day #evil author day 2020

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50shadesofmittens · 4 years

Text

So this is the previous Rapunzel-inspired thing, but edited. I decided not to put it on ao3, so you lot get it here. Enjoy.

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At the base of the silver Tower, on the back of a rented camel, one lone Custodian disguised as a mutant Tzeentch worshipper (read: wearing a paper-mache mask over his helmet and a T-shirt over his armor that proclaims “I <3 Change”) sat planning the next step of his daring assault.

Then a red lasso grabs him and yanks him up to the highest floor, in through a hole in the liquid-solid walls that closes as soon as the Custodian is deposited on the floors.

“Are you absolutely, completely, burn-your-soul-out, bugger-all to fuck-world and back insane?”

“Nice to see you too, Magnus.” The Custodian groaned as he got up from the floor.

“Do you realize what will happen if even a single daemon finds you here? I’ve found you here! Tzeentch has to know by now, and if you’re still here that means this is all one of his ‘plans.’ Probably to end with your humiliating death or corruption!”

“Was that a hair-lasso you grabbed me with?”

“Don’t change the subject! And yes, shapeshifting is the easiest spell for me to cast if I don’t want to be seen.” Magnus replied, his hair rapidly shortening back to its usual length. “Not that it works completely- there are some forces which can, if they/she/it/whatever the squid is right now choose so, can see everything I see. And since I’m on probation/house arrest, again, I’m being watched fairly closely right now.

“Which would be obvious to anyone or moderate intelligence who thought things through for more than thirty seconds, and I know you’re well beyond moderate intelligence, so we’re back to the ‘insane’ theory. Gods only know what disasters might’ve already been put in motion just from you coming here- and Gods knowing is exactly the problem.”

The Custodian sighed. “Rest assured, I do have a plan. A very… flexible one, yes, but I didn’t just come in, guns blazing. And if needs be I can throw it out the window and work with what I have to improvise. You know I can.”

Magnus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. This place, and everyone on it, belongs to the lord of plans- whatever you have in mind, he’s already well aware of. So if we’re going to get you off planet alive-”

“We’re not leaving the planet.” Magnus startled as the Custodian continued, “We’re staying here, and taking this planet out of the Warp.”

“And I’m now reverting to my original theory: you have gone completely mental.” Magnus barked out a laugh. “I should’ve known when you thought it was a good idea to come out here, alone, with just yourself and- was that a camel?”

“Right behind you.” Sure enough, the camel had followed its rider up the tower. This rider gave her many head-pats and good oat snacks. She liked head-pats.

“The fuck- how did that thing even get in here? Without exploding?”

“According to the sales pitch, she’s a specially commissioned used camel with warp-terrain capabilities and double-Primarch capacity.” The Custodian shrugged. “If that makes any sense to you then you understand her better than I do. I have no clue what she’s capable of.”

Magnus shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, you have to go, before whatever scheme you have in mind gets too complicated for me to pull you out.”

“And what if sending me away is the scheme? Hm?” The Custodian shrugged. “It’s not like you can prepare for every plan Tz- that one has. Weren’t you the one who decided that it was better to just work with what we had, than to think too hard about how to win?”

“That was a very different scenario. Besides which, I’m not trying to win- I’m just trying to get by. For now,” Magnus added hastily, “once I’m in a better position I can-”

“Stop. Just- before you tell me what your long-term goals, are tell me this: how do you plan to get into this ‘better position’ in the first place?”

“I’ll work with what I have, exactly what you yourself just said you planned to do!”

“So, what, Tzeentch mentions he wants this subsector conquered, you work on it, get further into his good graces, and just keep going until he’ll let you be free?” The Custodian shook his head. “We both know it’s not going to work like that.”

“I don’t expect my privileges to go that far. I just need enough leeway to make things… better.”

“You’re mixing your goals up. You’re planning too far ahead where you should be thinking about the now, and you make your immediate plans where you should be thinking about the long-term.”

“At least I’m doing something.” Magnus snapped. “Isn’t that enough? I used to just wait, wait, wait, planning every step and making every choice based on a thousand pre-existing factors, until I got too lost in my own head. You helped me break out of that- and I’m grateful, really, I am. I’m so, so glad I met you.

“But please,” and Magnus took the Custodian’s gauntlets into his own hands, “don’t destroy yourself trying to save me. You already have- in more ways than you’ll ever know. If I’m to live with the memories of you as my guide, don’t make one of those memories be your death. That’s not how I want to repay you.

“Go home, [R E D A C T E D]. The other Custodes need their Captain General, and the Imperium needs its leader. Don’t throw all that you’ve accomplished away. I’m not worth it.”

“I’d debate you on several of those points,” the Captain General said, “but for now, I’ll settle on this question: are your sons worth it? Are your people?”

“Don’t.” Magnus pulled away, and he turned away. “Don’t ask that. You don’t tell me to choose- between the one thing that’s led me to be someone I’m proud to be and the duty that I’ve only just really started to love again.”

“You love them?”

Magnus hesitated, but he nodded. “Ever since I got back, I keep seeing all the amazing things I knew before but kept missing or mistaking for something worse. ‘We humans have a peculiar ability to turn the worst, stupidest dystopian situation into stuff we can laugh grimly at, I appreciate that.’”

“Quote from the-nothing-maker, early second millennium assorted internet. Volume, Tumblr.” The Captain General said, “I read you that one.”

“You use my words against me, I use your quotes against you.” Magnus said, though there was no bite in his words. “You know, in the few times I haven’t been alone here, everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. That you were tricking me into neglecting my kingdom so it’d fall into disarray, or were going to tell me to burn it all down so we could start over later.” Magnus sniffed. “It’s all rubbish. There might’ve been some downturns while I was gone, but the working infrastructure hasn’t exactly collapsed without me. Which is more than most daemon planets could say. Besides which, it’s not like I’ve been doing much governing since I got back.

“And when I see you again the first offer you make is to save the planet- though if you were a daemon or another Tz-“ The Captain General made a loud noise of protest to keep Magnus from saying the whole name, “-follower, I could believe that it’s some plan to destroy the planet, but… that’s not you. That’s the farthest thing from you. That’s why I- I can’t sit by while you’re destroyed.”

“That’s not-”

“No just-” Magnus swallowed hard and looked the Captain General in the eye. “Just listen to me. Please. Let me finish.

“It- it’s crazy but… if I died there would be another war, big fucking whoop it must be Tuesday, but… if you died, I think the galaxy would become a little colder. Because every time I look at you and try to decipher what sort of man you are, I find something wonderful there. Every time. And you can be petty, hypocritical, and cowardly, but even when you are those things that… kindness, that spark that makes you shine is still there. It doesn’t shine consistently, but it never vanishes completely. And… there’s nothing else I’ve seen or heard of in this galaxy that can match that. Not the Gods, not my Father, and certainly not me.”

“Magnus…” Against the speaker’s intentions, the word came out as a whisper.

“I know you still think, somewhere deep down, that you’re not worth it, or that you could be replaced. But I’m telling you, you can’t.”

“Magnus.” The Captain General said, louder now, but something scratchy in his voice as though he was holding back tears. “I didn’t come here to die. I know you think- that the place you’re in and the person you are makes it impossible to get out but- you keep forgetting one key thing, in the way it most counts. Who you are.

“You’re the person who saved hundreds of thousands of entire civilizations worth of culture and history- through negotiation and diplomacy, and just giving them respect. If it wasn’t you, someone else would’ve done it, and they wouldn’t have been anywhere near as kind. We both know by now that the kindest thing would’ve been to have left the galaxy alone, but that wasn’t gonna happen, so you made it happen your way. No matter what anyone else said, or did, or how they mocked you for it- you did what you thought was right. Just like in the Heresy, your sons were kept from the war because you fought back against the poison in your soul, and kept them as far from the madness as you could.

“You’ve done a lot of evil, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you otherwise and I’m never going to lie to you about that, but you’ve got a lot of drive to do good- and you’ve done a lot of good, over and over, from the moment you got the chance. What you did for me, during [REDACTED INCIDENT]

“[REDACTED INCIDENT]

“[REDACTED INC-] But you showed me that you want to go farther- and you are going farther, from the twisted paths that came before. You managed to hold out longer than any of your brothers (exceptmaybeMortarionI’mnotclearonthetimeline) when it came to corruption.”

“You...” Magnus said, with a small smile, “are the only person in the galaxy who truly believes that intentions have any value.”

“Maybe that’s because the galaxy doesn’t value people’s hearts enough. That life is so disposable nobody bothers trying to help the hurting. I think that’s bullshit. And Magnus, you stood up with me against the indecisive squid once before, and with your help I won. Now, I’m asking you to stand with me once again.

“Please.” The Captain General held out his hand, “trust me?”

And Magnus closed his eye, sighed deeply, shook his head, opened his eye, then reached out and took his hand. “Okay.” He said, voice breaking, “Okay. What must I do?”

#WIP #Abandoned WIP #my fic #tts

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speckofglitter · 6 years

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get it together - kny

→ word count ; 1.3k

→ genre ; fluff | angst if you squint ??

→ pairings ; artistl!yoshinori x artistl!y/n

everything is an art form. yet you always seemed to have the wrong paintbrushes or a shaky hand.

yoshinori is lying on his bed, watching you paint. he's admiring you, eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking out as you try to mix the right shades together. you've been working on this painting for the past 3 hours and it still doesn't look quite right. you step away from your canvas, observing it at a different angle before giving up.

you sigh, settling down onto the bed next to yoshinori as he gives you an encouraging smile.

'i'm tired.' you sigh out.

'then let's sleep.'

'yoshi?' you mutter.

'hmm?' he responds.

'can you give me a goodnight kiss?' you plead. he widens his eyes in disbelief, making you laugh out loud.

'fine.' he moves closer, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before licking your cheek and running away.

'argh yoshi that's disgusting!' you yell out, running after him.

yoshinori is your best friend and lifeline. he's the only one keeping you sane. you rant to him about your struggles as an art student, the exorbitant prices of art supplies and about how much your art teacher absolutely hates your guts. you sleep over at his apartment anytime you have a big assignment due. he keeps you calm. you still remember the day you met him. you were in the campus art studio, having a panic attack. you looked like a shell of a human being, shoulders hunched over as you cried over your sketchbook. yoshinori had walked in, choosing to sit beside you, softly stroking your hair as you cried and explained your frustrations. if he hadn't been there you probably would have ended up breaking your expensive crayons and brushes in half. he was so approachable and warm. you supposed there were no strangers in yoshinori's world, only new friends. you two quickly became inseparable after that day.

you wake up to an amazing smell. yoshinori's side of the bed is empty so you look around, trying to find him. he always makes your favorite nutella pancakes when you sleep over. it's become a tradition.

'come in.' he says, turning around to find you peeking from behind the kitchen door.

'good morning, thanks for the breakfast.' you smile, giving him a quick hug as he flips another pancake. his hair is still slightly damp from his shower, the smell of his cotton candy shampoo engulfing you.

you settle down onto the table, scrolling through your instagram feed as yoshinori finishes making the pancakes.

'yoshi, do you think i can make it as an artist?' you ask in between bites.

yoshinori looks at you, stunned by your sudden question. you take a huge bite of pancake, nervously waiting for his answer.

'i know you will.' he answers after a moment.

'you do know mr. clent hates me right? i haven't gotten a single grade above a B this whole semester...' you whisper.

'it's not always about the grades, especially in a creative field. when i see your art, i feel like it's going to jump off the canvas and come alive. your art tells stories that no one else can tell. that's your weapon.' he explains.

he smiles at you and it's that smile. the smile that makes you feel like all of your dreams can come true and everything will be okay. you stuff another bite of pancake in your mouth, desperately trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding inside your chest.

'you're a really good talker mr. kanemoto' you shake your head, trying to hide your smile.

after a quick shower, you're back to painting. a weak stream of light peers through the small window in yoshinori's room, making you look angelic.

you hear beeping and turn around to see yoshinori on his phone texting. sometimes, you wished yoshinori wasn't so popular. he wasn't only liked by students, he was also mr. clent's favorite student. the promising art prodigy. whenever there was an art exhibition, girls would flock to his side. they would ask irrelevant questions about his artworks, mostly interested in the way he would sip white wine and arch his perfect eyebrows as he talked about technique and color theory. surprisingly, he never worked on his drawings in front of you. he probably didn't want you to have a mental breakdown over how talented he was compared to you. you turn back around, painting more aggressively this time.

is it normal to feel slightly envious?

'wanna get some coffee?' he asks.

'yes please, i feel like i'm going to go insane if i see one more speck of gold' you laugh, grabbing your cardigan from his chair.

you walk towards the campus café, noticing the cold breeze as you wonder how yoshinori can wear ripped jeans in this weather.

yoshinori rests his hand on his chin, staring at you with an endearing look. you're ranting about yet another annoying professor as he swirls his straw around, taking frequent sips of his matcha latte. you talk with your hands, bright eyes twinkling as you get to the key point in your story.

yoshinori thinks about how fitting your drink choice is, a caramel macchiato. you pretend to be a bitter artist yet deep down you're the sweetest person he has ever met. you're always frustrated because you run on hope. hope that the world would be a little better, a little kinder. he memorizes the way your lips purse as you take a sip, planning to make you his next project. for him, it came easily. the lines and the shapes came together in his head as soon as he saw you.

summer is settling in and you no longer have to worry about strict professors and artist statements. it's 9pm when you burst into yoshinori's apartment, a tiny bottle of red wine in your front jean pocket. yoshinori doesn't bother asking questions as he lets you in.

'you know that guy i went on a date with last week? i can't believe that jerk ghosted me.. you know what? fuck him he looked like a noodle anyways.' you yell out, walking past yoshinori to sprawl yourself onto his couch. yoshinori chuckles to himself, watching you drink straight out of the tiny red wine bottle. even during rough times you absolutely refused to drink hard liquor.

you notice that yoshinori is drying his hair with a fluffy looking pink towel as he sits next to you. you try not to stare but he looks really, really good.

'not to put you down when you're having a rough time but could you take some of your skincare products home? your 13 bottles of rosewater and clay masks are taking up all the counter space in my bathroom.' he says, running a hand through his damp hair.

'fine. guess i'll just be bae-less and ugly.' you scoff, placing your legs over his.

'you're neither of those,' he whispers.

'what did you just say?' you raise an eyebrow.

he freezes, pink towel in hand as he realizes his mistake.

'i said... you're neither of those. you're beautiful y/n, i've told you that countless time.' voice not coming out nearly as steady as he would have hoped.

'yeah but i'm still bae-less' you whine.

'i could be your bae...' he mutters.

you picked a horrible time to take a swig of wine because the moment yoshinori says that you spit a mouthful of red wine right into his face.

'oh my god i'm so so sorry' you say as you grab the pink towel in his hands, dabbing onto his skin. you didn't realize you were so close until yoshinori places his hand above yours, taking the towel before kissing you softly. he hooks his hands around the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs tightly around his torso. your palms splay across his chest, pressing into him. you taste a little bitter and a little sour from the wine but yoshinori doesn't mind. you let out a small whine of protest as your lips separate.

'i can't do this anymore. i can't pretend not to be into you anymore.'

'i like you too yoshi.... we could be together but you know... i should really to get my shit together before i try to be in a relationship...' you mumble.

'i don't need you to get your shit together y/n. but if you need help, i'll always be here for you. as your friend or as your bae. you call the shots.' he winked.

you thought it over for a few days, isolating yourself in your room as you survived on cubes of cheese. yoshinori was beginning to think he had made a huge mistake by confessing to you. maybe you just weren't ready.

yoshinori had always been there for you, a little too generous if you were honest. you weren't scared of him breaking your heart. you were scared that one day he would wake up and realize he could do better. knowing him, he would probably break it to you in the kindest way possible. your mind wandered back to the first day you met him. if he wasn't ready to be in your life, he wouldn't have sat and comforted you for hours. he wouldn't put so much time and effort into making you pancakes every time you were at his apartment. he wouldn't have been the one and only person who motivated you as an artist.

you suddenly get up, putting on your sneakers as you rush to your kitchen cabinet, grabbing a bottle of vodka. you had never run so fast in your entire life. by the time yoshinori opens the door, you're out of breath and glowing with sweat.

'what are you doing here?' he questions.

'you said i could call the shots so i'm here.' you say, walking past him and into his kitchen as you look for shot glasses.

'let's cheers to us, being baes or whatever the kids say these days' you laugh, pouring him a shot.

as yoshinori watches you down your shot, he silently thanks whatever or whoever guided him to the art room on that day.

masterlist - requests are open !! - ya girl tiyi ❤️

#ygtb #treasure #magnum #treasure 13 #treasure 13 scenarios #magnum scenarios #yg entertainment #yg artist scenarios #kanemoto yoshinori #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios #yg treasure box scenarios

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dawnasiler · 5 years

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How to Do Nina Dobrev’s Skincare Routine

Nina Dobrev wants you to know that her skin is NOT flawless.

"I get pimples just like every other Joe Schmoe," the 30-year-old actress, best known for her role on the The Vampire Diaries, admitted to Allure.

But that doesn't mean she won't leave the house bare-faced.

"I absolutely feel comfortable going out in public and being on social media without makeup," she revealed in an interview with People. "It's real. When I have a lot of makeup on, that's usually work. At home, I just let it breathe. I don't think I was always [this] comfortable with myself, but as I get older, I start to care less. I feel a lot more comfortable in my own skin now."

Thanks for watching!

With age has also come a newfound dedication to skincare.

"I think the older I get, the more important it becomes [to take care of my skin]," she told The Cut. "When I was younger, I'd always just fall asleep in my makeup and it wouldn't really have an effect, but nowadays, because of some maturity, knowledge and growth, it's changed."

Photo: @nina

Thanks for watching!

Nina's routine includes an array of products from Dr. Barbara Sturm, along with some drugstore favourites and a "magic" light therapy mask.

Ready to see how she keeps her skin clear and glowing? Read on:

Nina’s Morning Skincare Routine

1. Sunscreens:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Sun Drops SPF 50

Dr. Barbara Sturm Sun Drops SPF 50: "Her sunscreen is the only sunscreen I've been able to use that doesn't come out white, and it doesn't get cakey with your foundation."

Chanel UV Essential SPF 50

Chanel UV Essential SPF 50: "It's anti-pollution, broad-spectrum SPF.... Not a single day goes by where this isn't the first thing that I apply to my face upon waking up. I've tried so many different products that, especially when you're wearing makeup right afterwards, it can get thick or it gets sticky or it's really white. I've found that this specific one has the most sheen, it has the most protection, it has 50 SPF in it, which is a lot. And it's light and airy and you can put makeup on seamlessly. It's like a primer, almost."

2. Serum:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Glow Drops

Dr. Barbara Sturm Glow Drops: "These are amazing. I mix them in with my sunscreen and my moisturizer. I don't know what it is that's inside of it, but whatever it is, it really does make your skin glow. I've never gotten more compliments on my skin since I started using that. All of her products are amazing, and I have honestly seen great results."

3. Foundation:

Chanel Ultra Le Teint Velvet Blurring Smooth-Effect Foundation SPF 15

Chanel Ultra Le Teint Velvet Blurring Smooth-Effect Foundation SPF 15: "The next product after my sunscreen and after my Glow Drops is my foundation. We talked about prepping the skin with a glowy, dewy tint, and right after that I also apply this... which I love mainly because it has sunscreen in it already. So even if I for whatever reason forgot to put my sunscreen on that day, I do have a little bit of protection in the foundation. It has full coverage, but it's not super heavy and cakey, and at the same time, they also put powder in it. I am an on-the-go person. I have a dog, I have a busy life. I don't have time to put foundation on and then powder it and do all these steps. In general, I like to keep the skin glowy and fresh and not really wear a lot of makeup. I get red pretty quickly and easily, so I just let it shine through, which I'm told is rosacea, which is not a good thing, but I like it, so I don't wanna treat it. It skips a step."

4. Sunscreen Setting Spray:

Kate Somerville UncompliKated SPF Soft Focus Makeup Setting Spray SPF 50

Kate Somerville UncompliKated SPF Soft Focus Makeup Setting Spray SPF 50: "After my makeup is done, I use Kate Somerville sunscreen setting spray."

Nina’s Nighttime Skincare Routine

1. Makeup Removers:

Simple Kind to Skin Micellar Cleansing Wipes

Simple Kind to Skin Micellar Cleansing Wipes: "One big, main, important thing is to wash your makeup off every night before you go to bed. In order to take my makeup off, the first step is a makeup wipe. I'm told you're supposed to be really light on your skin, especially around the under-eye area, but I don't always practice what I preach."

Simple Kind to Skin Dual Effect Eye Make-Up Remover

Simple Kind to Skin Dual Effect Eye Make-Up Remover: "In order to remove the makeup around the eyes, sometimes I like to use a Q-tip to really get in there, and I typically use an oil-free makeup remover."

2. Cleansers:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Cleanser

Dr. Barbara Sturm Cleanser: "I put two pumps of Dr. Sturm's cleanser, and then I mix that with my exfoliant [the Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser]."

Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser

Dr. Barbara Sturm Enzyme Cleanser: "It is an enzyme cleanser, also by Dr. Sturm. You just put it in your hand and you mix it with water. The exfoliant helps really get into the pores and get rid of that dead skin. It also removes the makeup if anything's been left behind that the makeup wipes were not able to get. And then... I use warm water to rinse. Then I pat the face dry."

3. Cleansing Brush:

Clarisonic Mia Smart 3-in-1 Connected Sonic Beauty Device

Clarisonic: "I use Clarisonic. They're great—they really get in there."

4. Serums:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Hyaluronic Serum

Dr. Barbara Sturm Hyaluronic Serum: "I use Dr. Sturm's hyaluronic acid, which allows for all kinds of moisture and water and plumpness to get into the skin."

Dr. Barbara Sturm Super Anti-Aging Serum

Dr. Barbara Sturm Super Anti-Aging Serum: "Sometimes, I mix [the hyaluronic acid] with the Super Anti-Aging Serum. Mainly because it sounds cool.... [I use it] for no reason in particular, just because it saves time and I'm a busy lady."

5. Moisturizers:

La Mer The Moisturizing Soft Cream

La Mer The Moisturizing Soft Cream: "At night specifically, I use a thicker moisturizer like La Mer, and that way you have all night for it to soak in and really work its magic. La Mer is especially special because it was originally created—fun little fact—for burn victims. And it repaired their cells so well when they had third-degree burns that they decided they should probably re-brand and use it as a face cream because it had so many healing properties. This is one that I use a couple times a week and/or before big red carpets when I want that extra dewy glow. And I like to put it under the eyeballs as well."

Dior Prestige La Crème Texture Essentielle

Dior Prestige La Crème Texture Essentielle: "I use Dior Prestige La Crème for my moisturizer."

6. Eye Cream:

Dr. Barbara Sturm Eye Cream

Dr. Barbara Sturm Eye Cream: "I usually use Dr. Sturm under-eye cream at night. Something I've learned from makeup artists is that you should pat the under-eye area as opposed to rubbing it because it saves you from getting wrinkles maybe a few days earlier than you would have otherwise."

7. Lip Balms:

L'Occitane Ultra Rich Lip Balm

L'Occitane Ultra Rich Lip Balm: "Next step is lip moisturizer. This is a L'Occitane en Provence [lip balm], which, if I have to be honest with you, I got this from one of those little travel-sized things on the plane."

Dior Lip Glow Color Reviving Balm

Dior Lip Glow Color Reviving Balm: "I get so dry in the middle of the night that I also have to use lip balm, and I also use Dior's lip balm."

8. Spot Treatment:

La Roche-Posay Effaclar Duo Dual Action Acne Treatment

La Roche-Posay Effaclar Duo Dual Action Acne Treatment: "Now, if I'm having a little bit of an outbreak or a pimple or an uninvited friend that has made my face their home, I consult my friend La Roche-Posay. This is a spot treatment that you only need a very little amount of; it's got retinol in it and you just zap 'em. It's basically like an eviction notice for your face. You tell 'em they gotta go find somewhere else to squat."

Nina’s Skincare Treatments

Vampire Facials:

Dr. Barbara Sturm: "She was introduced to me by a friend of mine who works with her and who has beautiful skin. Dr. Sturm was the first person to come up with the Vampire Facial. I get it, there's a double pun there because I used to be a vampire. [But] it really works. Her Vampire Facials are amazing...."

Radiofrequency Facials:

The Beauty Sandwich

Light Therapy:

Deesse Pro LED Mask

Déesse Pro LED Mask: "Keep in mind I don't use this every day. I use it maybe twice a week and before big red carpets so that I get that nice glow. It is a product that I, weirdly enough, initially saw on Kate Hudson, on her Instagram. I reached out to her and asked her what that was because she looked like Jason, the killer [from the Friday the 13th movies], and I was scared at first. And then she told me what it does and I was very, very excited by it. It makes you look creepy, though. Total Jason vibes. I usually either use Mode 1, which is red light for anti-aging, or I use Mode 5, which is the red light and the blue light combined, which helps with healing. So for example, if you have a pimple like I do, and you happen to have popped it, like I often do—which you shouldn't do—it heals your pimples really fast. Like, you can have an open pimple, put the mask on, and when you take the mask off, it's gone. It's crazy. It's magic."

Spas:

"I'm a bit of a spa-holic, is that a thing? AIRE Spa of New York is my go-to here. In London, the Corinthia Hotel. It's insane, the steam rooms and the saunas and the massages, it's one of the most incredible experiences. In Toronto, just outside of Toronto near Blue Mountain, the Scandinavian Spa. It's an outdoor/indoor spa, so especially if you go in the winter, it's snowing and you're going in the hot tubs, you're going from room to room, and it's huge and really cool. The Korean Spa in Los Angeles. It's not fancy—everyone's naked. I'm a steam-room-aholic as well… I have a steam room and a hot tub."

Infrared Saunas:

Shape House and Sweatheory: "I don't have an infrared sauna, but I think that's my next step. They're amazing. Shape House in L.A. will wrap you up in infrared, and then Sweatheory is an infrared sauna place in Los Angeles that I go to."

Nina’s Diet, Exercise and Lifestyle

Diet:

"I used to eat three full meals and then I would not be able to move after each meal. I would be so full and tired. Now, I eat all the time but portion control is what's important for me—I'm eating more in total but not more at a time. [My trainer] coached me through it, but basically, I aim to have the size of my thumb in fat, the size of my palm in protein, and then unlimited veggies. I wish I'd learned this in school."

Exercise:

"I just love working out. Doing something different [each day] has been the most fun, and I've seen the most benefit because you shock your system. I need to sweat every single day somehow, even if it's just in the steam room."

Sleep:

"I put more time and energy into the relationship with my bed than I do with any relationship I've ever had in my life. I always have a sleep mask, because if there’s even a crack of light, I'll be up. I also sleep with a sound machine. Sound machines are my secret weapon because they drown out any noise and keep you in this even-keeled environment that's peaceful and chill. Between those two and chamomile tea, those are my tricks."

Attitude:

"I think anyone and everyone, at some point, has maybe not felt like their best self. What I've learned is that life is just a compilation of days where you just try to live life to the fullest and be happy in any way that you can and try to better yourself. Audrey Hepburn has this quote that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that to be very true. Your smile is your best accessory, and I try to wear it every day if I can."

"At the end of the day, you are what makes you beautiful. Your personality, your aura and who you naturally are."

Thanks to Harper's Bazaar, The Cut, Women's Health, Allure, People, Byrdie, The Coveteur and Shape.

Shop Nina’s Skincare Routine

What do you think of Nina's routine? Have you tried anything she uses?

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How to Do Nina Dobrev’s Skincare Routine syndicated from The Skincare Edit

#skincare #beauty #makeup

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thetygre · 6 years

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30 Day Monster Challenge 2 - Day #16: Favorite Evil Weapon/Object

1. Stormbringer (Elric of Melnibone)

The Black Blade. Daughter of Arioch. The Stealer of Souls. One of the single most legendary swords in all of fantasy, present in every universe in at least one form or another. A demon of chaos bound by the Lords of Law into the shape of a weapon. Whoever wields it can drain the souls from whoever they stab and sustain themselves with it, but is driven by a terrible hunger. The Black Blade has a will of its own, and it howls for blood as it is swung. In short, the definitive evil weapon.

What makes Stormbringer stand out from its later imitators, and even previous legendary evil weapons, is how it affects its primary wield, Elric of Melnibone. As an albino, Elric is sickly, and usually uses medicine and dark magic to stay alive. But abroad in the Young Kingdoms, Elric has to rely on Stormbringer to survive. Even as Elric connects with people outside his home kingdom, they are bound to die whenever he needs to stay alive, no matter how much Elric tries to fight it. Stormbringer is essentially a manifestation of Elric’s burden as the Champion of Balance, but also his greater isolation that distances him from being able to make connections. Elric makes it clear that Stormbringer isn’t some kind of ultimate weapon, it’s a crutch, a drug that ultimately consumes its user. And in the end, that’s what happens to Elric; when the entire universe is consumed by chaos, Stormbringer finally turns on Elric before disappearing into the apocalypse.

2. Soul Edge/Soul Calibur (Soulcalibur)

So this is honestly cheating, but I just can’t pick between the two swords. Soul Edge is the clear Stormbringer descendent and looks rad as hell to boot. Even more that Stormbringer, Soul Edge looks like a living, breathing monster. It can even shapeshift into weapons that aren’t sword, and it had an entire life cycle in Soulcalibur 2. But Soul Edge never really stopped being the ‘bad’ sword. It’s counterpart, Soul Calibur, on the other hand, started off as the ‘good’ sword. But as the series went on, Soul Calibur began to change. In Soulcalibur 4 it was hinted that Soul Calibur might have a mind of its own as well, and it might not have the purest intentions. By Soulcalibur 5, the plot hook came to fruition; Soul Calibur is just as dangerous as Soul Edge and wants to trap the world in a perfect unchanging state. The swords have become the embodiments of Law and Chaos; the Michael Moorcock reference comes full circle. All we need now is a game where Soul Calibur is out of control and the only thing that can stop it is Soul Edge.

3. The Terror Mask (Splatterhouse)

The Terror Mask has sass, the Terror Mask has a personality. Half these evil artifacts are just kind of generically malevolent; they won’t yell at you in Jim Cummings’ voice and call you a pussy when you notice one of your arms is missing. There’s a surprising amount of lore invested in the Terror Mask. An entity from the space between spaces, it fled the cosmic horror gods until they bound it in a bone mask. Now it’s out to settle the score, and whoever is wearing it just happens to be along for the ride. Granted, the wearer of the mask turns into a hulking slasher ogre that is almost impossible to kill. The Splatterhouse games are a gateway into the video game id, replete with monsters, ultra-violence, and a hero so buff he puts the ‘masculine’ in ‘toxic masculinity’. The Terror Mask, like in the game, is just a way to get to that special kind of hell.

4. The Necronomicon Ex Mortis (Evil Dead)

The Necronomicon Ex Mortis is probably the most famous evil book in the world, probably more so than Lovecraft’s original Necronomicon. (Frankly, I could do an entire list on favorite evil books, but we’ll get there when we get there.) The Ex Mortis really doesn’t have a lot to do with Lovecraft besides the name, other than that they are both old, sanity-rending, and bodies of literature. But, being honest, the Ex Mortis is just the more fun of the two. The Ex Mortis is the party-boy of evil books to the original Necronomicon’s Ivy League scholar. It’s such an embodiment of Sam Raimi horror; gory, campy, with a bit of slapstick thrown in, and its mere presence causes weirdness to happen. The Necronomicon Ex Mortis contains knowledge of things man was not meant to know, and it knows it. It’s mischievous, and it’d almost be lovable if it wasn’t also full of immensely powerful black magic.

5. The One Ring (Lord of the Rings)

I’ve always been interested by the concept that the One Ring can think for itself. The One Ring is, ultimately, an incredibly loyal evil artifact, and is only interested in new yielders insofar as they can deliver it back to Sauron. The Ring really is an apt counterpart for the hobbits; a little thing, defenseless, almost useless at first glance, but capable of changing the world. The Ring also has a pedigree, of course. It shares more than few traits with the Ring of Nibelung from the Wagnerian cycle of operas of the same name. The Nibelung Ring, like the One Ring, can grant the wearer power over the world, but only if they renounce love. In time, the covetousness of men and gods for the ring destroys the world and brings about Ragnarok. The One Ring is a reflection of the Ring of Nibelung, but also vastly different in many respects. It brings about the end of the gods and immortals, but only because they were staying to try and destroy it. The end of the Ring and of Sauron grants the world the ability to move into the next age, the age of mankind, which reflects not only Tolkien’s notions about divinity and its place in human existence, but I think also his faith that people can rise to their best in the changing times.

6. Rubilax (Wakfu)

Rubilax is the only evil weapon here to have a character arc. Granted, that’s because he’s actually a demon bound to a sword, but whatever. Rubilax starts out as your typical evil sword, trying to possess the (idiot) paladin bound to guard him. Not to make it a contest, but he gets pretty far, to the point that said paladin has to release Rubilax and fight him in a bare-knuckle fist fight into submission. After that, things get kind of complicated. People die, souls are displaced, there’s a colosseum death match, and Rubilax has to make some calls about his moral character, so to speak. In the end, Rubilax decides to side with the good guys, and even gets along with the paladin’s kids. So he’s less of an evil weapon and more of just a demonic one, but he’s definitely the most nuanced character here.

7. The Event Horizon (Event Horizon)

The Even Horizon is pushing the definition of ‘evil object’. It’s really more of an evil place, which might also be worth a look sometime, but for now a ship counts as an object. There’s plenty of sci-fi stories that try to do the cursed spaceship deal, but I feel like Event Horizon is the only one that really captures the gothic horror aspect. I think we tend to forget that architecture, aside from its practical usage, is also meant to convey ideas and thoughts as much as any other form of artistry, and was one of the more important forms of public communication before the spread of reading. The architecture of the Event Horizon is the words to a spell, the three-dimensional incantation that opens the gates of Hell. It was a morbid, dark temple to man’s ignorance even before it went into other dimensions. Once it returns, it hungers for more; a cursed ship bound to always return to its home port on the other side. Something about the Event Horizon reminds me of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner; the way the ship is warped and changed by sailing through strange waters, and how the survivors are bound to relive the curse over and over again. That’s why the Event Horizon is my favorite ghost ship in science fiction.

8. The Marker (Dead Space)

The Marker draws directly from Event Horizon, and they both share the concept of wordlessly communicating a kind of madness to the people who view them. The Marker, though, takes it to a new extreme, in that it has a literal insanity aura that causes hallucinations, paranoia, and aggressiveness. An interesting way that the Marker is more ‘alive’ than other evil objects is that it is self-propagating; part of the madness it transmits is the formula necessary for its replications. But what I find most fascinating is how the Marker can transmit information that changes DNA, altering people on the cellular level to turn them into Necromorphs. That kind of power, to change biology through information, is nothing short of magic in most other settings.

9. The Berserker Armor (Berserk)

You can’t fight demons if you ain’t cute. The Berserker Armor was forged by dwarves for the explicit purpose of fighting demons and monsters. It draws on the rage and negative energy inside a person to give them incredible strength and agility, but at the price of slowly draining their senses. The Skull Knight originally made it for himself, but even he was scared off by the armor’s power. Now Guts has it, and he has a lot of rage to give. I think the most fascinating thing about the armor is how it changes and molds itself to how Guts’ uses it. It didn’t start off with a giant wolf helmet; that’s just Guts’ personal totem representing his inner darkness. But when the armor drew on that, it changed shape, and when Guts holds himself back, it stays restrained. Still, the armor takes a lower spot because it itself isn’t evil, it just draws on a person’s internal negativity; it’s all up to the wearer on how much they use it.

10. The Gonne (Discworld)

Discworld is full of anachronistic magical devices, and they’re all usually cause for some kind of concern. The Gonne was at the center of a fairly elaborate murder plot involving the Assassin’s Guild and the Night Watch, but was finally put a stop to. Like any good evil weapon, it whispers promises of power to whoever happens to be holding it at the time, and is also a little trigger-happy. But the Gonne and its metaphor for firearms gets kind of overshadowed by everything happening around it, and it even gets acknowledged as a powerful and worthy weapon in its own way by the end.

#30 Day Monster Challenge 2 #30 Day Monster Challenge #soul calibur #lord of the rings #dead space #wakfu #evil dead #berserk #long post

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idontevenknowwhatimdoingugh · 7 years

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The Best of Intentions

A secret santa fic, however the darling it’s for has chosen to remain anonymous. I hope you like it <3

Summary: Sans doesn’t even like Papyrus, so why the fuck did he just save his life?

Warnings: Underfell bad brother au, brotherly angst, fighting, violence, near death experience

“Oh boy, a guardsman!”

“I’m going to get so many exp.”

“Who said you get them? I did most of the work!”

Two of the thugs turned and began to bicker. They were still in battle mode, so it could turn to blows real fast. Papyrus would be thrilled if they managed to kill each other. Fucking assholes. The problem wast their friend, who was inching around them to get a clear shot at Papyrus, who was immobilized by the jellyfish’s venom. He could probably kill Papyrus before they could even react, claiming the exp for himself.

Papyrus found this to be a particularly undesirable outcome.

The monster, some kind of rat in both personality and appearance, grinned as he got around the second of his friends. He glanced at them one more time before summoning a swam of bullets. They were long, thin, whisker- like attacks that would slice him up. Papyrus summoned all of his defense, well aware that it wasn’t enough to take so many attacks head-on.

The ground under the rat’s feet exploded, spraying the two fighting monsters and Papyrus. All three of them stared, surprised. Whatever had done it had some force behind it. The snow raining down on them was mixed with some of the rock hard earth from even further down. Papyrus squinted, trying to see through the cloud of debris.

The smaller particles of snow floated down more slowly, but they eventually revealed a cluster of sharpened bones, much like his own but shorter and thicker, sticking up out of the ground. The rat monster was no where to be seen, but grey dust surrounded the ground around the bones.

“What the fuck?”

“What the fuck!”

The other two reacted with increasing levels of stupidity and panic, turning in circles to try and find their assailant. Papyrus hadn’t seen Sans fight since they were children, but he knew that they would never get a glimpse if Sans could help it. They were fucked.

There was a soft rumble and they both turned to look. A wave of bones burst out of the snow and came racing for them. The jellyfish withdrew his tentacles, while the bird monster took flight with a sharp laugh.

“Good luck touching me with pitiful earth bound attacks like that one!” He cried, circling up into the air. Papyrus watched him fly with a frown. If Sans let him go too far, he wouldn’t be able to grab him, and he would get away. Then again, Sans probably didn’t care if the fucker fled. He would hardly take almost killing his little brother as some kind of insult.

The jellyfish could only float so high, so they continued to look around. Bones appeared in the air around them, one after another darting in to skewer them. They moved around with a jerky motion that would make a lot more sense if they were actually in water, dodging the attacks. A few grazed them, but they didn’t look too bad off by the end.

“What’s this?” They asked suddenly. Papyrus had no idea what they were talking about, but the bird squawked, drawing his attention. That monster was flapping desperately, but, as Papyrus watched, he began to plummet, regardless of his efforts. There was a loud crunch as he hit the ground, snow flying up around him. Other than the flakes slowly settling, there wasn't any more movement.

“How-!” The jellyfish screeched, but by the time Papyrus looked back at them, they were dissolving onto dust. He didn't see any evidence of an attack, but Sans must have snuck one in there.

“Karma’s a bitch,” said monster sneered from somewhere above Papyrus’s skull, snow crunching as he finally made his appearance. Papyrus wished he could move. It was bad enough that Sans was here. He also sounded mad. He was probably pissed at Papyrus for getting himself in this position. Then again, that begged the question-

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Sans blocked the sky with his skull so he could glare down at Papyrus. The signal went out to jump in surprise, but his body only twitched slightly. That was still better than before. Maybe the venom was wearing off. Papyrus hoped so. If he was going to have to deal with his brother, he'd rather do it while towering over him. Height was one of the few things he had over Sans.

Papyrus actually did try to answer Sans, but his mouth wouldn't move. Sans stared down at him, expectant. When it became clear Papyrus wasn't going to answer, he sighed and withdrew.

“Pouting, huh?” Sans grumbled from out of sight. “Typical. All you do is whine and whine. You want to be in the guard. You want to be a hero. All you really do is get yourself in trouble.”

More crunching as Sans walked around the area. He kept talking, but low enough that Papyrus could no longer hear him. Not that he really needed to. Sans had spent years making his opinion of Papyrus abundantly clear. Too needy. Not smart enough. Not strong enough. Too full of himself.

Papyrus reached up and rubbed at his sockets, which were tingling unpleasantly. He wasn't a kid anymore, to start crying when Sans was mean to him. Sans was always mean to him, and Papyrus was past caring about it.

“Well, come on!” Sans yelled. Papyrus wished he could say that he was paralyzed, at least. Though that would be a whole different lecture. He clenched his fist in frustration. Oh wait, he had just moved. With a groan, Papyrus sat up and looked around.

The clearing had been cleaned up. It was clear some kind of activity had taken place, but the evidence that it had been a fight was gone, even the monsters’ dust. Sans had mixed it in with the snow, to be lost forever. At least he was as dismissive of everyone else as he was of Papyrus.

“God, you are so slow. What now?” Sans was already heading towards home. That was typical. He had stopped to wait, unhappily, for Papyrus. That wasn't. Papyrus climbed to his feet awkwardly. The venom was faded enough for him to move, but it made his body feel sluggish and heavy.

“I'm coming,” Papyrus grumbled, looking over the scene one more time. Some snowdrakes might have had a snowball fight or the dogs seen a squirrel. No one would care that Sans had dusted them. It had been in self defense, or Papyrus’s defense. Sans had saved his life.

Of course he didn't want anyone to know that.

Papyrus remembered his original question. Why had Sans saved him? It wasn't out of affection, or even familial duty. None of that had ever driven his brother before. He made it clear they only lived together because Sans wanted Papyrus to take care of all the house chores.

“‘Bout fuckin’ time,” Sans grouched as Papyrus came up to him. He turned back to walking almost immediately, and Papyrus had to rush to keep up.

“What the fuck?” Papyrus asked as soon as his long legs closed the distance. His speech was a little slurred, but he kept as much of his strong tone as he could. He would need it if he was going to press his brother on this. Sans’s behavior was too strange.

“Excuse you?” Sans shot back. He always acted like Papyrus had no right to call him on his shit. How Sans had ‘selflessly’ raised Papyrus had been the cornerstone of many fights. Papyrus glared at him.

“Why bother saving me if you're just going to act like I’m a burden? Weren't those thugs about to do you a huge favor?” He snapped. His steps grew sharper as the venom faded and his angered flared up, finally given voice.

“Wow, aren't you grateful.” Sans didn't even turn and face him. He just kept walking, skull down against the wind. “Really want to make sure I regret it, huh?”

Papyrus snorted. Typical of Sans to deflect a question like that. Too bad for him, Papyrus had caught on ages ago.

“Why did you do it?” He demanded again, jabbing a finger in Sans’s direction.

“Temporary insanity? I don't know!” Sans lifted his hands and then dropped them.

“That's not an answer,” Papyrus growled. The more Sans dodged the question, the more he wanted to know. “Even if it was chance you saw us, you could have walked away.”

“They were easy exp,” Sans said haltingly. Papyrus’s eyelights tightened as he focused in on Sans’s skull. Sweat was beading along it before dripping slowly down the dome.

“That isn't it. Why?” Papyrus pressed, a sense of impending victory filling his soul. He had Sans cornered.

“Why did you go running off into the forest alone?” Sans exploded with the question, turning and facing Papyrus finally. “You have to have learned better than that, you idiot! You could have fucking…” Sans wrestled with something, his skull hunching into his thick jacket. “You could have died, moron.”

Papyrus was stunned. He had never seen Sans give a single fuck about his health. This was far from his first near death experience. Before he had followed Sans out to Snowdin, because he didn't have any idea what to do otherwise, the gangs in the capitol had almost gotten him quite a few times. Sans had never so much as asked where the broken bones had come from, or his LoVe.

“So what?” Papyrus asked, still trying to process this new facet of his brother. Sans’s jaw dropped open. The moment of surprise passed swiftly, and his face morphed into a mask of anger. He glared at Papyrus, jabbing his finger this time, right into Papyrus’s chest.

“I raised your ungrateful ass. I have taken care of you- nn, I cannot fucking believe you!” He yelled, stomping in a small circle in front of Papyrus. The snow churned, mixing with the dirt. The slush coated Sans’s dingy slippers, but he didn't seem to care. His fists were clenched and his posture rigid.

“Taken care of me, really?” Papyrus shot back. Since when? “I mostly remember you leaving me alone so you could go off and drink yourself stupid.”

Sans looked mad enough to burst, red magic colored his skull so thickly. He growled, a sound that sent a shiver of fear through Papyrus. The one sin Sans wasn't guilty of was hitting him. Papyrus worried this might be the moment that failed to hold true.

He didn't lash out, though. Sans unexpectedly turned on his heel and stalked towards home. Papyrus stared after him, lost by the sudden disappearance of his adversary. Sans never let him have the last word. Ever. Unless it was an apology, which it hadn't been in years.

Getting it should have felt like victory, but Papyrus couldn't find that feeling in him. He still wanted answers, and he currently had more questions than when he had started asking. Like, what was so secret that Sans would yield to him?

He walked after Sans fast enough that he should have been able to catch up easily. Even at his fastest, Sans’s legs were about half the length of Papyrus’s. Papyrus never did, however, arriving at their house without a glimpse of Sans. He must have taken a different route, probably to Grillby’s. The chances of Papyrus taking the fight there were about as good as him going there to drink.

Grumbling about monsters with no sense of dignity, he walked into the house. Sans was on the stairs, heading up to his room most likely, which was not at all where Papyrus expected to find him. Stunned, Papyrus stepped into the house and slammed the door behind him. Sans jumped and turned, one foot slipping down from the stair he was on with a loud clack. Papyrus glanced to the side and found the soggy slippers by the door.

“Oh, just you,” Sans grumbled, turning and hurrying up a few more stairs.

“Don’t you fucking run away,” Papyrus snapped, walking over to the base of the stairs and looking up at Sans. “You want to claim you ‘took care of me’? Well, you’ve given me shit all my entire life, at least give me some fucking answers.”

Sans stopped and looked back at Papyrus again. His skull was dripping red sweat still, and his eyelights were darting around as if looking for a window to jump out of. Papyrus tensed, ready to keep Sans around by blue magic if he had to. He couldn’t say why, but it felt like there was something coming, that if he could just get a little more out of Sans it would give him a puzzle piece he’d been missing without even realizing it.

“What answers?” Sans asked, voice quiet. “Ask me your stupid questions then.” He turned to face Papyrus fully. His arms were loose by his sides, hands not in his pockets for once. If Papyrus had to guess, this was what he looked like when he prepared for a fight. Had it been a good idea to do this right after Sans gained more exp?

“Why did you save me?” Papyrus asked, his first, most burning question. It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate that Sans had saved him. He didn’t know how to handle that he did appreciate it. He didn’t know how to thank a monster who had been so cruel to him his whole life. The flickering, feeble flame of hope that Sans helping him had lit needed to be snuffed out now, before it grew large enough to burn Papyrus.

“Because you were going to die!” Sans yelled suddenly. His hands were clenched into fists, but his voice wasn’t laced with anger and violence. It crackled with some deeper emotion. “Because you finally got yourself into a mess you couldn’t get yourself out of, and you were going to die!” His voice broke on the last word. Papyrus was frozen by the sight of tears starting to leak down Sans’s face in a steady stream that dripped onto the carpet of the stairs.

“What do you care?” Papyrus asked again, faintly. He wasn’t getting something. This didn’t add up. What was he missing?

“Of course I fucking care!” Sans gasped, not even bothering to wipe the tears, which really detracted from the force of his glare. “Whenever you- I’ve always been-” He sighed a big, wet, angry sigh as he struggled to finish a sentence. It had been enough, however. Papyrus had the missing piece.

“You’ve always… been there…?” Papyrus asked, because even if Sans confirmed it he couldn’t really find in himself to believe it.

“All the times I knew about,” Sans nodded, looking down at the ground. “You really ran me ragged, as a kid,” he laughed awkwardly. Papyrus didn’t see what was so funny. Sans wanted to talk about how hard it was for him?

“Fuck you!” Papyrus spat. “Why the fuck would you just… watch? Was it fun seeing me get beat to hell? Did you enjoy them breaking my bones? Were you on the edge of your seat each time I was almost fucking dusted?”

Sans was staring at him with shrunken eyelights, the pinpricks of red darting around Papyrus’s body as if picking out specific injuries to go with the accusations. So he had been there, because he sure as fuck hadn’t treated any of Papyrus’s wounds after.

“N-no, of course not,” Sans recovered, but barely. His voice shook, and he walked down a few stairs, arms open. Papyrus backed away, eyeing him suspiciously. “You always won. You always found a way, and you got stronger.”

“So this was your sick idea of training?” Papyrus asked coldly. His other feelings had fled from the onslaught the revelations brought, hiding behind anger.

Sans stopped, still a ways from Papyrus. “No- It wasn’t like that.” He waved his arms. “You had to learn to survive on your own! I knew- I had seen monsters, strong monsters, trying to protect their loved ones. I saw them fail again and again because they were only one monster. As soon as they turned their back, let their guard down, or… dusted, the monsters they’d sheltered were as good as free exp. I couldn’t-”

“You couldn’t?” Papyrus was taken aback by the explanation. It was as pathetic as Sans looked right now. “You couldn’t be bothered to train me yourself? You couldn’t imagine actually fighting with me? You couldn’t what?”

Sans fell silent. He looked down again, hands now clenched together in front of him.

“And the insults?” Papyrus continued, righteous fury sparking in his soul. “Did you have to talk down to me to ‘toughen me up’? Was that why you lorded over me every chance you got?”

“I wasn’t-” Sans raised his skull, but Papyrus was not ready to hear his excuses.

“You were. You treated me like I was nothing. You’re nicer to your drinking buddies than you are to me. Was that part of my ‘training’?”

Sans flinched, looking back down. Silence filled the house while Papyrus waited for some kind of answer. He wanted one, so badly. He wanted Sans to justify away his behavior in a way that was realistic.

Papyrus still wanted a brother.

Gritting his teeth against unwelcome tears, Papyrus started up the stairs. Sans jumped, looking up at him, and there was maybe a little hope in his sockets. For what, Papyrus wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t stop and find out. He had run out of questions. All he wanted now was space to process what he had learned. He brushed past Sans and went for the door to his room.

“Paps…” Sans spoke up behind him, voice soft and cautious. Papyrus paused, but he couldn’t look. He just could not look at Sans right now. Stepping into his room, he slammed the door.

Papyrus paced back and forth across the room, the tears burning as they forced their way out of his sockets. He was wound up tight enough to explode, his magic sizzling with the need to lash out. He fought it back. The Great and Terrible Papyrus had better control than that. He wasn’t going to be defeated by his own fucking emotions.

What was he going to do now? A plan of attack always calmed him. Was he going to accept that Sans’s behavior had been some twisted form of caring for him? Should he? Pain, sharp and hot, struck his soul as he realized that the brotherly affection he wanted had always been there, just out of his reach. Sans had hid it from him to… protect him?

That was bullshit. No matter how Sans rationalized it now, that wasn’t how you treated someone who you really cared about. This was all a bunch of excuses from a monster who was being called out on being an asshole. He didn’t actually give a shit, he was just trying to trick Papyrus.

“Nn!” Papyrus stopped pacing and curled down, the tears flooding from his sockets. He wanted so badly for it to be real. He hated that he wanted it.

“Papyrus…” Sans called again, from outside his door. Papyrus didn’t respond. He was breathing heavily, trying to force back all the pain caused by just hearing Sans talk to him like he was… like they were… okay.

“I’m sorry,” Sans offered, which Papyrus found quite unwanted. He didn’t want empty apologies. They fed the flame, priming it to burn up his soul. “You’re right. The way I acted towards you didn’t help you, at all. It was for me. I wasn’t able to do it, at first. I don’t know if you remember, behind that horrible restaurant-” He stopped himself, leaving a heavy pause.

Papyrus did remember. A pack of surprisingly vicious rabbit monsters had ganged up on him. It was the last time he saw Sans fight. The very next day Sans’s cold behavior started, leaving Papyrus to wonder what he had done wrong.

“I had to remove myself entirely, or I couldn’t stand by and let you earn your way in the world.”

The explanation was as unwelcome as the apology. Papyrus didn’t want to know that Sans had just done a shitty job. He had meant well and had tried, but had fucked it up. It left Papyrus with lukewarm feelings he didn’t know how to handle. He knew what to do with anger. He thought he’d know what to do with forgiveness. This lousy explanation left him unable to feel either.

“So what? Do you think that makes it all better?” He grumbled, reaching for the more familiar emotion.

“No,” Sans responded after a pause. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Papyrus wanted to lash out even more now, because he believed him. Sans actually sounded sorry.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.” The self pity in that statement made Papyrus want to scream, but he stayed still and silent, listening. “I do want to try and be a better big brother for you… if that’s something you even want.”

It had been. Papyrus wasn’t sure it was now, but the part of his soul that had longed ever since he was a child ached at the offer anyways. Despite all evidence that this was going to be a complete disaster, only maiming Papyrus worse in the end, he couldn’t overrule that part of himself.

“Fine,” he responded, emotions draining out of him in one instant. Fuck that bit of hope. Fuck Sans for drawing it out of him and drawing him in with it. He could try all he wanted, but Papyrus’s walls were staying up. Trust was a whole different matter.

“Thanks, B-bro…” Sans’s voice sounded lighter, like he might even be smiling. He was going to mean well and try, wasn’t he?

Papyrus sat down on his bed, put his face in his hands, and tried not to let hope swallow him whole.

#underfell #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #bad brother au #angst #violence /#near death experience /#fighting /#My fic #oneshot #gift fic

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idontwantshitanymore · 3 years

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TW everything maybe?

i want to rant to myself, i genuinely am tired of this. the notes app is fine but i mean this is my notes app now. im tired, of people, of dealing with things and emotions, of myself, of reality mostly. i always feel out of place, always literally every single time, i hate how its always as if im wearing a mask, waiting for the mask to fall off, then sitting in my room alone at night sad, because why couldn’t anyone see me? since this is a long rant and im a spoken essay addict, as im speaking this to myself, i will section this into ranting sections:

1) i hate myself. i hate everything about me, and not in a quirky outcast way, and not in the way that i Dont Acknowledge that im “loved” or whatever no, i hate myself because i know that whenever im “loved” it’s because im pretending to be what people like but in reality im disgusting and bored. i hate the way i talk and what i talk about how awkward i am. i hate that i stand in no where and fit in no place and i am as temporary as a stupid dress for some occasions. i hate how i look like and like aside from body like my smile sucks it’s wrapped to the side, my eyes are too small and my voice is too squeaky and breaks and gets too high sometimes. i hate that i only notice it when im back home. i hate where i live and how lazy and frustrating i am.. too bossy too hazy too weird.. im too much. too much.

2) i hate reality. i feel like im always less. and that feels shit because i also feel ungrateful because im not technically broke poor or unbearably ugly or in a completely broken family.. but they are also shit. i cant buy a single tshirt without contemplating how that will affect my budget. i though have to sit and watch people buy shit like money is water. i cant stand confidently or take a normal picture and will consider sewerslide if someone took my picture because i cant bare how ugly i am but to normal standards im “fine”. my parents are still together and they are alright to each other but i havent had a conversation with my dad like a full conversation apart from hello in approximately idk 5 years?? more? and we live in a 3 bedroom apartment together i see him everyday. i just dont actually see him do i? and my mom just shouts all day everyday until no end and then showers me with “care” then calls me selfish when i dont give it back or am not as active and happy as she is.. mental illness doesn’t exist here and i forget about that but reality is reality. not just mental health but actually everything doesnt exist here, dreams are wack and if i ever came out id be most definitely hunted. i cant travel anywhere because visas are actually a thing and i never can get any plus im broke. so my reality is.. forever alone in the closet wearing things i dont want to wear and saying things i dont mean and never having a family and never getting out of here.. i really should just d1e

3) i hate food. i hate myself before i hate food but i also hate food. i hate that im not skinny enough im not boney enough.. but im not sick enough i never was never will probably cuz im a coward. all my mental shit is in my brain, and sometimes i lay down just to imagine myself taking my insides out just to feel empty.. because im weak and i cant st@rve properly. i also dont taste food.. its been 3 and a half.. and food tastes like plastic to me.. i havent enjoyed a single meal in 3 and half years or even more honestly.. i cant fucking eat properly i just binge on plastic tasting things i want to rip myself apart.

4) i partially hate people around me. they arent bad people they are just good until im not what they want. until i dont play the role. until its no fun. good until im too mentally ill but no im faking that shit why such a bad mood, good until im too angry why am i such a rude person.. good until im not good enough. i also hate how jealous i get if they lose weight or if they are suffering because no i want to be the one that suffers the most.. i most probably deserve to just for thinking that. i like them i do and i care for them but it gets too much when im faced with my own ugliness that comes with dealing with people.

5) i loved my best friend. until she said that it never fucking mattered because it wasnt romance. i broke her heart but i too fucking hurt.. she liked me and thats alright and flattering but its not my fault i didnt feel the same. not my fault i dont want romance i can barely love anything. i dont want a girlfriend or the commitment or anything. it hurt because then was all her care and love just because she thought i liked her too.. just cause she thought she’d earn a lover? is this how it works? unconditional love my ass there was a condition they just trying to hide that cuz its too ugly to see the truth. i tried helping and being there and talking and communicating just because i never wanted to hurt her but no im the bad guy.. im the ugly ugly person and the toxic manipulator.. who also has their most known info about them that they never fall for friends and never take hints.. but ig no She Had To Be The Exception.. whatever im actually disappointed beyond belief.. i thought i can trust someone but ha ha fool is me.. no more trusting anyone everyone wants the mask on Everyone.

6) i hate my anger issues. it would be fine almost fine until something as minor as my brother touching my teddy bears and my anger rises like a fucking monster. why am i so angry all the time.. angry enough to st@b myself through the heart.. and it starts.. those stupid trials to stop being so angry that i get angrier and someone points it out and i get even more angrier and boom time to add barcodes to myself because i cant deal with the fucking anger.. and ok it would be fine at least if the anger was justified but no im just a bitch to everyone and moody as fuck and never can do anything because my brain doesnt work like ever.

in conclusion.. i as a whole am a creature that should’ve been de@d at least 3 years ago but didnt.. and now im just dealing with the fact that i wasnt. what a fucking nuisance. my whole existence is and the fact that im complaining in Parts about things mostly my own fault is insane. so ungrateful so unoriginal i must fucking end it i genuinely have to cuz this is too much. too fucking much and the future wont get me anywhere i should save my family the money.

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braindamageforbeginners · 6 years

Text

More FAQ

So, before we go on to the main event, I did see my favorite (or maybe second or third favorite) oncologist recently for a check-up; Radiation Oncologist. My “Top Three” rating might seem like a slight, but I estimate I’ve probably had at least a dozen different oncologists and surgeons over the years (all of whom are, professionally, world-class). She gets bonus points for thinking of “Captain America” with my new hair, which is definitely the look I was going for. She also gave me a clean bill of health and made a later appointment, and mentioned that, usually, patients who make it a year get recommended for observation. Again, I don’t think the medical establishment is prepared for someone successfully completing surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, then shouting, “What more ya got?!” Of course, by typing that, I’ve probably guaranteed I’ll get hit by a truck tomorrow. Anyway, unlike previous versions, this FAQ is actually inspired by questions I’ve received from various sources.

1. What is the ideal l reaction to you, as a cancer patient/survivor, when you tell people you have cancer? Ideally, that you have a proven cure for cancer. Or have ties to a research group working on that. If not buy me a beer and have a little patience with me if I’m a little slower or grumpier today. Again, if you are completely stumped, go for, “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Or just show up with a pot-roast (never discount the June Cleaver approach). Really, there’s only two bad options here: indifference, or ostracizing the patient. That latter one might seem like an obvious no-no that anyone would know not to do, but, if you’ve ever not invited someone to an event or hike or whatever because you’re worried about their health, you’ve unwittingly participated. Just give us a call and we may come, or we may not. If all else fails, just send money. I know that might seem crass, but here’s the deal: the leading form of bankruptcy in the US is medical bankruptcy. It’s nigh-impossible to get back to a normal existence after something this disruptive; adding a tinge of deb-slavery makes it worse.

2. What’s Temodar really like?

Really horrible, surprisingly. You know who’s actually more-qualified to answer that than me? I mean, apart from an actual, qualified professional? Breast cancer patients. It’s not commonly given as a front-line drug, but if breast cancer starts metastasizing, I’ve heard it’s not unusual to add Temodar to the mix. Physically, it’s not too terrible - you’ll probably get constipated, but that’s usually treatable with OTC laxatives (or would be; I suffer from Unpredictable Bowel Syndcrome, so I usually reserve that sort of activity for quiet evenings at home, when I know my own bathroom is within reach). It’s painful, in a “whole body flu/hangover” kind of way, and it causes - in me and one other guy I know - weird insomnia. I’ve been able to kind of overcome both with medical marijuana, but you still don’t feel great. My main complaint with Temodar is “chemo brain’ - trouble focusing, or recalling details, etc. it’s a little too much like brain damage for me to ever be comfortable with. However, so far it’s not permanent, and it only seems to really hit the last few days of any cycle. However, it is disruptive enough that I don’t drive while on temodar, and I try to avoid any major life decisions or complex calculations or tasks.

3. With chemo/radiation, should I be worried about mouth sores, bleeding easily, or being immunocompromised?

Again, ask your doctor about that. I did and was told that as long as I washed my hands and avoided obviously sick people, I should be okay. Depending what chemo regimen you’re on, you’ll get blood-tested at various times. I trust the folks running me (as it were) to let me know the minute it looks like I might have a serious issue (one the nurses once got me a hand-out on potassium-rich foods when I tested low)(apparently, potato skins are better for potassium than bananas - who knew?), I’ve noticed I tend to bleed a little easier these days, but it’s hard to tell if that’s cancer treatment or me just being more aggressive shaving. Speaking of shaving, you’re not supposed to do that either, but, since one of the rarer side-effects of Temodar is leukemia (this is true), and one of the potential side-effects of radiation is,.. brain cancer (also true), I just decided the whole “Do this, don’t do that” list would become onerous and impossible to keep track of, and result in me living in a bubble (which would not only do nothing to help me in this struggle, and prevent me from making it to my book club). I’ve also been signed up for a number clinical trials (before anyone asks, all but two of those fell through; and I’m only in the marizomib trial and Radiation Oncologist’s neurocognitive evaluation program), and I know that - legally - the research coordinator (or nurse practitioner - I’m never really sure who gets that part of the job, unless it’s a form of administrative punishment or something) has to read to you all the potential side-effects of an experimental treatment. In the case of an experimental substance like Marizomib - which, remember, was still being tested for side effects when I signed on - that can take quite a whlle. In those situations where all the side-effects and dos and don’ts become overwhelming - which is more frequent than I’d admit - I’ve got your line: “I realize the side effects include lots of possibilities. I could die.This could make my disease worse. I could grow a third arm. But, of all the likeliest, dangerous side-effects, what are the ones I need to pay special attention to?” That usually trims a bit of fat off the safety warnings. My personal favorite in this area came when the Warlocks cleared me to go on Cycle 5 (that was kind of a big moment, because I’d had an iffy MRI before that one) SELF: Anything I should or shouldn’t do? Things I should stay away from? SENIOR WARLOCK: Yeah, lead a healthy life. He doesn’t strike me as a micromanager.

4. Should I wear a mask?

Why, yes, of course!

My apologies to BMT patients or others who really do have to wear a mask to maintain their health; If you’re in an doubt, though, ask your doctors about it, and, bear in mind that you’re never going to lead a risk-free life again, even if you beat this thing; you’re going to have to determine your new level of acceptable risk. Ultimately, I’ve decided that, at the moment, looking slightly closer to normal and not having extra things on my face to keep track of (especially since my left hand isn’t quite as dexterous as it used to be) was more important to me than potential airborne microbes or the risks thereof. I’ve heard one ER doctor claiming that we should all wear surgical masks whenever we’re in public (which, in retrospect, is an interesting stance coming from someone with a beard). With that in mind, I’d also point out something Shrink mentioned a few sessions ago; that if you physically hurt, yeah, you’re going to be inclined to stay in and avoid the gym or your friends, but your inactivity will make you feel worse. etc. It may seem like some sort of Dear Abby schlock, but it’s in keeping with the general attitude of most of the healthcare providers I’ve met around here; they want their patients living as close to a normal life as possible (Molly, if you’re reading this, I’d say that might be something to look for in rating hospitals; if they automatically an dramatically demand all in-patient treatments all the time, be wary).

5. Will my tastes change as treatment progresses?

I’ve heard this one a lot from various people without any clear consensus. I think this is a correlation/causation mistake. I’ve gotten more assertive and aggressive post-initial-treatment just because that’s a new requirement/skill to be alive, but I don’t think that’s because of the disease or treatment (well, possibly, the night is young and they still haven’t completely established Marizomib’s safety and side-effects). Similarly, it’s possible radiation or chemo will change your tastes and/or tastebuds (I’m fairly certain biochemists were still trying to definitively demonstrate how taste works, chemically, so it’s possible that dangerous, damaging substances would permanently change that). But I think, really, it’s that your body is a constantly-changing, hostile, alien warzone, and, just like any time you’re sick and you’re aware of it, it’ll have an impact on your tastes. Just like you may not leap at the thought of a cheeseburger and fries when you have a stomach flu, you’re not going to be one for brunch if you wake up with a queasy, hung-over sensation.

And then you bring human psychology into it and that adds a whole new layer of incalculable insanity to it. I remember exactly where I was when I had my TIA (or “ministroke,” if you want to get more technical); it was a little cafe by the hospital - perfectly nice place - and I had trouble (noticeable trouble) swallowing for a few minutes. I’ve taken a neuroanatomy class, so this set off a few alarm bells, but, since it went away almost immediately, I didn’t give it much more thought until the next scan showed that horrifying little dimple (it did turn out to be a TIA, which, given my obsession with cardiac health, is a barely-noticeable radiation side-effect). Nothing permanently terrible happened to me, and I know there’s no correlation between eating at that cafe and neurological disease, and I’d still recommend to anyone looking for a place to eat, but I’m not eating there ever again. And that might be the underpinning of this complaint about changing taste, there’s just a lot of potential for really, really bad, horrifying things to happen to you at any given moment of treatment. If I have an unexpected seizure while eating toast, I don’t know if I’d ever have toast again. For healthy people for whom this might seem ridiculous (as my step-mother did), let me put it this way. Let’s say you go to your favorite restaurant, and, completely randomly, get mugged and assaulted by a roving gang of GOP congressional candidates. Badly. Like, you need a night or two in the hospital and a month in a leg cast or something. Now, when you recover, even though you’re aware it’s all random chance and circumstantial, would you go back to the same restaurant? I still love steak burritos and beer, but nothing terrible’s happened to me while eating them (yet, anyway). That’s my guess, but there isn’t any hard data to support it.

#stupidcancer

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