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alfvaen · 8 months ago

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Novel Madness

Still reading, and apparently still blogging about it.

So this is what I read in March. Possible spoilers for the Vorkosigan Saga, and the Mercy Thompson and Peter Grant series, among others.

Jeffrey Cranor & Janina Matthewson: You Feel It Just Below The Ribs, completed March 2

So as you may recall, back in February, I had given up on Ruth Ozeki's A Tale From The Time Being, wasn't fond of Kristen Painter's Flesh And Blood, and was also not really liking the nonfiction book on Reddit I was reading.

I was somewhat tempted to just skip ahead to my reread of Memory, my favourite book in the Vorkosigan series. I mean, when I had started doing more frequent rereads, it had been after just such a string of subpar books, and I wanted to retrench and remind myself why I loved reading. Looking back in my records, I can't actually find that string of subpar books, but I can find about when I started doing the rereads--the fall of 2007, when I started doing a Wheel of Time reread, where every second book was a reread; it was the first time I reread the entire series (up to that point, which was Knife of Dreams). After that, my rereads went back to their more sporadic pace, until the spring of 2008 when I did an every-second-book reread of the Vorkosigan saga (the first of three such rereads in the next few years). And I kept doing every-second-book-a-reread for two years, at which point I slowed down to mostly every third book. By 2012 this was down to every fourth book, and there it seemed to stabilize. So it wouldn't be unprecedented for me to do my rereads more frequently, but the cycle has been stable for a while--I added in the alternation of author gender, the diversity slot, the trying-out slot…it would throw my cycle off now if I did the rereads more frequently. But don't think I wasn't tempted.

Anyway… I was looking for a male author, something that wasn't urban fantasy (because of the Kristen Painter), probably something that wasn't space opera (because Memory was still coming up)… I toyed with the idea of selecting something that might be "fun" (like John Scalzi's Agent To The Stars or the Doctor Who And The Krikkitmen book), but there were also books that I had been thinking "maybe" on for some time and hadn't yet picked up. And You Feel It Just Below The Ribs was one of them.

Many of you are likely familiar with Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor's "Welcome To Night Vale" podcast, which I discovered relatively early (by current standards--maybe around the "Sandstorm" episodes?). I've see the show a couple of times when it came through (or near) Edmonton, I try to keep up on the podcast (though mostly I fail because I can't keep up with a bimonthly podcast schedule any more), and I have read all of the tie-in novels and the script books. The novels are decent, not great, but okay. And I have also tried out a lot of the other related podcasts--"Alice Isn't Dead" and "Within The Wires" are the ones I stuck with.

"Within The Wires" was always weird, and not every season was great, but it was an interesting combination of two conceits--one, that every season was done through "found audio", which included relaxation tapes with hidden messages, dictaphone recordings, answering machine messages, and museum audio guide recordings, among others. And two, that this all took place in an alternate history where, due to an early-20th-century upheaval called The Reckoning, the new regime had taken the drastic step of abolishing the family: breaking the emotional links between parent and child by altering their memories and raising the children in communal creches. (There's also a distinct shortage of male characters in the podcast, which is fine--at some point I'd even thought that men had been wiped out entirely, but there are occasional male characters mentioned now and then. And the new season features a male voice actor for the first time.) But we've never really gotten much detail about the Reckoning, because it was too far in the past, and nobody needed to talk about it much because it was just part of their common world. (Maybe in the season where we were following a woman who was part of a secret rebel group that did raise their own children, but even then we didn't get much.) So I was very interested in the novel that they came out with, in hopes that we would find out more about what the Reckoning actually was and how the change in society came about.

It's a bit of an odd novel--it has a sort of framing story of it being a found document, and has frequent footnotes. But I'm not clear why it was done like this. The document is the memoirs of a woman who was orphaned during the Reckoning--which seems here to have been a worst-case version of World War I that lasted until 1941 and did literally engulf the entire world, possibly with a worse flu pandemic as well. (This was published during Covid so that may have affected things a little.) The author, Miriam Gregory, ended up being influential to the whole post-Reckoning New Society practice of editing memories to remove parent-child bonds. She later got involved with the mysterious Institute from the first season, and there were some hints of the plot from the third (the political thriller told through dictaphone recordings). The footnotes mostly seem to be there to try to point out places where the editors of the document found stuff they were pretty sure was inaccurate. They quoted information from the official record and mentioned when there was no evidence of something existing or having happened at all. Which, okay, maybe this was people parroting the official history even with all its inaccuracies, as a method of showing how the truth had been hidden. But supposedly the publication of this document was being done by a group which was already not following the New Society party line, so why would they be so certain that this was wrong whenever it contradicted the accepted source of truth? It's not clear, and so it seems like they're just there to undermine the story whenever it gets too dramatic. It doesn't feel like an effective technique.

Overall it was a decent book, but flawed, and I felt like it could have covered more of the world than it did.

Lois McMaster Bujold: Memory, completed March 5

I have probably mentioned before that Memory is my flat-out favourite Bujold book. It's not an easy one to recommend to other people, though, because it may only work (and certainly works much better) if you've read all the previous books first. Jo Walton has talked about the "spearpoint theory", where a tiny sharp point can be made much more effective if you've had a lot of buildup to it. This book has a shaft consisting of all the Miles books and stories that came before. Obviously Mirror Dance, of course, the immediate prequel, but it has an especially poignant revisiting of "The Mountains of Mourning", as well as the reappearance of Duv Galeni from Brothers In Arms, and robust roles for Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, Delia Koudelka, Ivan Vorpatril, and Simon Illyan, who is central to the plot. It also has one of the dullest titles in the series, though it is relevant, not least because of the reference to Simon Illyan's eidetic memory chip.

The first part is the most painful, as Miles manages to lose most of what's important to himself through an attempt to keep it from slipping away. But I love almost every scene that takes place on Barrayar. It's such a treat just to see Miles coping with day-to-day life there (my favourite bit is still the convenience-store "Reddi-Meals!"), plunged back into a life he's been neglecting for years, that it doesn't even feel disappointing when it's over a third of a way into the book before the "real" plot really gets going. Because the shaft of that spear is still building up.

In later rereads, there are some bits I find fascinating. Like the worldbuilding details about the existence of Imperial Auditors, special investigators answerable only to the Emperor himself, that actually were never mentioned before in the series. But the way the native Barrayarans explain it to one Komarran feels completely organic, and they've known it all along, so surely these Auditors have been mentioned before? Nope, they're probably something that the author pulled out of her hat for this book (there were "auditors" mentioned in the framing story of Borders of Infinity, but I think they were just regular auditors, not Imperial ones). But if feels like they've always been in the background. (Maybe, if they were, they should have been mentioned in Barrayar somewhere? Well, whatever. Good enough.) Also, there was one relationship that blindsided me first time through, but now I can spot all the groundwork being laid for it all the way through. Very deft.

Steven Barnes: Zulu Heart, completed March 12

Next, according to my cycle, it was time for a book by a "diverse" male author. As I may have mentioned before, I seem to be much shorter on those than I am on female diversity, particularly on the black authors.

I first read Steven Barnes many years ago, at least in collaboration. His book with Larry Niven, Dream Park, has long been a favourite; I recall one day, after a stressful move between cities, that I spent just rereading the book from cover to cover. The sequels never hit quite the same spot, though, which may be why, although I did occasionally buy a Barnes solo book in a second-hand store, I had never actually gotten around to reading any of them. But they were there when I needed to draw from them for this slot. A couple of years ago I read his Lion's Blood, an alternate history novel about a world where African (and mostly Muslim) nations colonized the New World (which I believe they called Bilalistan), and they enslaved Europeans. (I don't recall if there was an in-universe explanation for the change in dominance--maybe the ever-popular Hyper-Virulent Black Death--or if it just turned out that way. There was something about Alexander The Great maybe going to Egypt…) One of the main characters was an Irish man named Aidan who was enslaved as a child near the beginning of the book, and separated from his sister; the other one was a black Muslim named Kai, son of a Wakil in Bilalistan. It probably covers a lot of slave-story tropes, but race-swapped, plus there's also drama an intrigue centered around Kai's family. It was an okay book, but I wasn't particularly planning on searching out the sequel; however, last summer at the When Words Collide convention in Calgary, I saw it on a table of "free to a good home" books, and decided to pick it up. And having basically exhausted pretty much all the other possibilities, I was perforce reading it next.

Once of the principles I mostly stick to with the diversity books is that I don't give up on them. (Maybe I should have done this with the Ruth Ozeki book last month, but I guess I didn't.) It's supposed to be about broadening my horizons, approaching different kinds of stories, etc. I've always been a little hit-or-miss with alternate histories; my perception, at least, is that a lot of them tend to focus on the same things--the American Civil War, the American Revolutionary War, World War II--all American stuff. This one is, at least, a little more creative, and is very black culture focused in a way that, frankly, Barnes's other books I read really weren't.

Plotwise, though, it's only okay; some threads are interesting, some I'm less interested in, and some seem to be a little rushed, as if he was trying to squeeze in plots from a third book the publisher had nixed. The back cover blurb seems to imply that the book is going to cover this world's version of the Civil War, but given that they're still colonies of overseas nations (Egypt and Abyssinia) it's really more like a Revolutionary War. And, spoilers, what there is of it is not a major part of the story. In that sense it's almost more like Diana Gabaldon's later books where the (American) Revolutionary War is going on, and it affects our characters, but it's not primarily about the war itself. And maybe this book would have benefited from being even longer to have that increased scope.

I do worry a bit about the reversed slavery idea--on the one hand, maybe it'll give some of us white people a better feeling for what the Africans suffered under slavery if we replace them with Europeans. The concepts that stuck with me were things like having white slaves given Arabic or African names rather than names from their own culture, and also all the African cultures being treated as distinct things while all the European cultures get jumbled together. But I also picture some people pointing at this and saying, "See? They'd do just the same as us if they were in charge!" Which may be true, but of course it doesn't say that, in our world, the slaves in America didn't suffer, and we're not living in that alternate world. It means that one group may not be inherently nobler than another, but that doesn't mean that they're not deserving of justice, or equity, or reparations. (I can also picture frothing white supremacists screaming that this the what the blacks want, and turning it into a story of white victimhood. Well, I guess we can't control what white supremacists are going to froth about.) It's not a bad thing, but it seems like it can be mischaracterized. (One novel I was working on, I have a setting with an area's native inhabitants being oppressed by intrusive colonials, and I was toying with the idea of having the natives be white, but I'm afraid it'd get read as anti-immigrant rather than anti-colonial, so I probably won't.)

Natalie Zina Walschots: Hench, completed March 16

After the long and somewhat topically heavy slavery book, I decided I was in the mood for something maybe a little lighter, and it was time to get back to a female author. My wife had recommended this Hench book to me, and nudged me about it a couple of times, and I decided to give it a go. I know that technically I do have my special slots for new authors (with the "try but feel free to give up if it does not spark joy" parameters), but if I never tried a new author outside of those slots, then it would take forever me to try all the ones I'm interested in, so I decided to let myself read this one.

The book is clearly set in a world with superheroes, and of course supervillains. I've read a lot of comics--mainly Marvel comics from the 60s through to the 90s (my attempt at a comprehensive read-through on Marvel Unlimited has just inched its way to the end of 1993, so I may be a little behind on the current state of the superhero genre, apart from the MCU stuff) but fewer actual prose novels. I suspect that the modern superhero novel, with its narrower focus, is more prone to examining superheroes in more depth, and frankly most of them tend to come out on the anti-superhero side of things, and at the very least turns them into more complex, flawed characters. The Annihilation Score tended to treat them as problematic; Brandon Sanderson's "Reckoners" series treats them as existential threats (admittedly, in that setting their powers literally drive them insane); and at best, they are severely flawed people who just happen to have powers, as in James Alan Gardner's "Sparks Vs. The Dark" series. Maybe it's a generational thing--in an age where the status quo is far from kind to the vast majority of those who are Millennials or younger, who are your sympathies with--heroes who fight to uphold the status quo, or the villains who subvert it? (Which is not too far off from the logic from that gets people to vote for Trump…)

Hench shows us mostly the villain side of the story, with superheroes mostly shown as overpowered thugs and walking disasters. We're mostly concerned with Supercollider, an example of the former, whose every brush with our protagonist leaves her damaged, and his longtime nemesis Leviathan, who lifts her up and makes her feel valued. I keep wanting to draw analogues with the heroes I'm familiar with--is Supercollider basically Superman? Leviathan seems more like Doctor Doom than anybody. Supercollider's partner Quantum Entanglement (a bit of an awkward name) seems more like a combination of Invisible Woman and Shadowcat than anything else. (I'm always low-key amused at superhero naming where they just silently have to avoid the names of real Marvel or DC characters, without seeming to. In my superhero stories I mostly tend to think that the real heroes are afraid of getting sued by the corporate juggernauts who own the trademarks on the fictional ones…) It got a lot darker than I was expecting, actually, but it was absorbing and I liked it a lot.

Patricia Briggs: Silver Borne, completed March 19

I had originally been thinking of something like Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower for my next book, but after Hench I wasn't feeling like it; instead I thought it might be time for another urban fantasy. I have started so many, and finished (or even caught up with) so few--the Dresden Files, for sure, and the Kelly Meding might be the only one. I find a lot of them appealing in the abstract, but it seems like they appeal to my wife more, so she's the one who reads then, gets hooked on the series, stays caught up, buys them in hardcover, etc. She has always been more of a fan of romance, and a lot of the female-authored urban fantasy seems like it's on a spectrum to paranormal romance. (The main difference, of course, is probably whether there's a single continuing protagonist, or a different romantic pairing every book.) Anyway, I'm in the middle of a lot of series, and it seems to take a lot to get me to the state where I get hooked and have to start reading them faster, so it can be years between books for me.

Patricia Briggs has, like many, split off a side series--her main series follows Mercedes "Mercy" Thompson, but there's also a "Charles & Anna" series which crosses over, and after the last Mercy Thompson book (Bone Crossed) left me a little underwhelmed, I had started those books, so the last Briggs I read was actually side series novel Cry Wolf. Apparently reading them in alternation is not a bad idea anyway, so I went back to Mercy for this one. I even remembered most of the characters, or at least was satisfied with the author's descriptions of them (a lot of minor werewolf pack members showed up, and I couldn't tell you for sure which ones we'd seen before or had character traits before this book).

The pacing was a little weird--there's basically three plot threads which show up at different times, which aren't really connected causally but do interact with each other, and the balance doesn't always work (like pack politics dominating everything else for a few chapters until we get back to our other plots), but it was better than Bone Crossed, at least. It's unfortunate, given how much urban fantasy I read, how little I enjoy the dominance politics of werewolf packs, and particularly the touchiness of Alphas. (Oh, no, we can't meet their gaze or undermine their authority or it's a challenge and they'll have to kill us. And they can't show any weakness or others will try to kill them.)

Next book in the series will be back to Charles & Anna, anyway. I am not yet really hooked on the series, but I'll keep going for now.

Lois McMaster Bujold: Komarr, completed March 22

Back to the Vorkosigans again, for Komarr. Like her other planet-named books, it takes place entirely on the planet in question (if we allow space stations in the same system to be close enough, anyway), the troubled vassal of Barrayar. Because the only current access to Barrayar comes through a wormhole in the Komarr system, and the earlier Cetagandan invasion of the planet was abetted by the Komarrans, Barrayar ended up conquering Komarr to secure its interface to the rest of the world. (I always wondered if it was only upon conquest of a second planet that Barrayar became a true empire, but I think they had emperors before that so probably not.) They've tried to be benevolent rulers since then, but we already saw in Brothers In Arms that there are those, like Ser Galen, that want to get rid of the Barrayaran yoke. And Aral Vorkosigan acquired the sobriquet of "The Butcher of Komarr" when a group of prisoners in his custody were executed--supposedly on his orders, but in fact it was an overzealous subordinate who Aral later killed.

Miles comes along to investigate a bizarre act of destruction--accident or sabotage, we don't yet know--where the "soletta array", a group of orbiting mirrors reflecting additional sunlight onto the cold, still-being-terraformed world (the world's population still lives in domed cities), has been damaged through collision with an off-course ship. He's mostly just shadowing older Lord Auditor Vorthys, the engineering professor who's analyzing the debris, and they end up staying over with Vorthys's niece Ekaterin Vorsoisson, who is our other viewpoint character in the book. Ekaterin has a highly unsympathetic husband, Tien, who has a secret shame, a hidden genetic disease called Vorzohn's Dystrophy. He also happens to be in charge of a small department of the terraforming effort.

I guess my biggest problem with this book is just that Tien and his department turn out to be directly related to the soletta disaster. I mean, think of it--the disaster happens, and an auditor is sent to investigate it. If it hadn't happened to be someone connected to Tien, the investigation might have gone nowhere, or taken a lot longer, because they wouldn't have had that extremely gratuitous link. It bugs me every time.

So the best part of the book is probably the introduction of Ekaterin, and her growth as a character through to the end of the book, where she strikes a decisive blow. And without it, we wouldn't have A Civil Campaign (or would, at least, have a much different book). But it is a dip in what would otherwise be a five-star run from Mirror Dance.

Shaun Barger: Mage Against The Machine, completed March 27

Catchy title, eh? That's probably part of why I picked it up in the first place, though I don't remember for sure. This is in my actual "trying a new author" slot, generally with permission to give up if the book doesn't grab me.

Essentially, it seems that the world ended at some point (2020?) when the machines/AIs rose up against the humans. The mages, who had been living in secret veiled communities for centuries, were hidden and thus not affected by this, though they're pretty sure that the humans were all wiped out. At least, that's what Nikolai, a young magically-talented officer (with a traumatic past) in the year 2120, has always been told.

Meanwhile, outside the veil, a young human cybernetically-enhanced woman named Jem, who remembers the machine uprising ten years earlier (she has her own tramatic past), and who mostly escaped because they were on the way to a colony on Venus at the time, is working as a courier, escorting a rare pregnant woman (unaffected by the fertility plagues the machines spread) through the fringes of Philadelphia.

The two stories go back and forth for several chapters in what seems like an attempt to sow confusion in the reader about the inconsistencies between the two versions of the timeline, which mostly led me to conclude that either these are literally parallel worlds, or that the mages are severely misinformed about the last century of history outside the veils. Or, presumably, most of them are misinformed but the ones at the top are all in on it and keeping the secret for their own reasons.

It seems like a bit of a hodgepodge. Part The Matrix, part Harry Potter (the mages have a sport named "flyball" that seems a lot of like Quidditch without broomsticks), part Brandon Sanderson/Brent Weeks (the flavour of the actual magic system), part Children of Men, part Wool (for the sheltered society ignorant of the world outside)… But I guess that means it's not too derivative, because of the variety of sources?

The biggest problem with it, really, is that the story clearly is not finished…but, in the five years since its release, no further books have come out. The author still seems to be actively posting on Instagram, and I found a Reddit post which said that as of two years ago the sequel was finished (and apparently there are supposed to be four books total), so I hazard a guess that the roadblocks are publishing-related. Like, his editor, Navah Wolfe, bought the first book for Saga Press, but moved on, so he might be editorially orphaned, leading to Saga passing on later books, so he'd have to be looking for a new publisher, or giving up and self-publishing (or just giving up). Always awkward--ask my wife who has two self-published sequels to the books that Scholastic published twenty-some years ago, because no other publisher would take them without rights to the first two. (Diana Rowland managed it somehow, but mostly it just doesn't work.) So I may hang on to this one and await further news (which presumably he'd post on Instagram or something…)

Ben Aaronovitch: Whispers Under Ground, completed March 31

Most of the urban fantasy series out there had female authors and female protagonists; I tend to call this the "post-Buffy" wave--before that, it felt like "urban fantasy" was more like Charles de Lint, with people in and around cities coming into contact with fairies and the like. Although stuff like Tanya Huff's "Blood Ties" series was also around back then, and that's clearly very close to what we call urban fantasy these days. Anyway. There are a few male authors as well, Jim Butcher the most famous, and Kevin Hearne, but they have a different flavour to them. And then there's Ben Aaronovitch, which is different again, being very British. Which is all just a way of saying that, while I normally try not to read too-similar books too close together, this doesn't really feel very much like the Patricia Briggs book I read a couple of weeks ago.

I'm a bit behind on this series--I read Midnight Riot (the North American retitled version of Rivers of London) some time ago, and Moon Over Soho more recently but still a while ago. But my wife was just reading the latest, Amongst Our Weapons, from the library, and apparently it's full of Monty Python references (in the chapter titles, if nothing else), and my eldest son was just reading Midnight Riot (apparently he'd heard that this series's magic system is vaguely similar to the system from the Ars Magica RPG we've been playing recently), so it felt like time to revisit it. My memory is of course a little fuzzy, but my overall impression is that this book is a little more police-procedural murder mystery than the previous two. Definitely there is a murder to solve, and there is a lot of interaction with other police (and an American FBI agent). Definitely a certain amount of underground (including sewers), as the title implies (so it's not just the London Underground). I enjoyed it and will have to try to revisit the series a little more frequently.

And that's it for the prose fiction books for March. For completeness I can also add in a graphic novel I squeezed in (literally just finished it before midnight on the 31st). See, one of the podcasts I've been listening to for a while is the "Endless" podcast, about the Sandman, cohosted by Lani Diane Rich and Alisa Kwitney. Kwitney, who was a former DC editor, particularly on Sandman itself, also apparently did a series for Ahoy Comics called "G.I.L.T.", which they were shilling on the podcast, so I thought I'd give it a try. I got my library to order what turned out to be a collection of the first five issues (I guess I'm not sure if there are more, but I wouldn't be surprised). "G.I.L.T." apparently stands for something like "Guild of Independent Lady Temporalists", though I'm not sure such a guild actually turned up… Anyway, two women, 70ish Hildy and 50ish Trista, get sent back in time to 1973, though Trista wasn't supposed to come along; they try to deal with their respective pasts, linked by a creepy cult-leader type that Hildy was engaged to and Trista's mother was a follower of. They're not supposed to be able to change anything, but they're also not supposed to both go back at once, so things get a little screwy. I wasn't 100% sold on it, but it was interesting.

And now I am actually reading The Raven Tower, but that'll be for next month's post.

#Lois McMaster Bujold #Vorkosigan #Ben Aaronovich #Patricia Briggs #Steven Barnes #Shaun Barger #Natalie Zina Walchots #Jeffrey Cranor #Janina Matthewson #Within The Wires #books #reading #Alisa Kwitney

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amywritesthings · 1 year ago

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i have to be a wee bit honest with you all, besties (personal - i'm okay! just some sappy things - content warning: loneliness)

i started writing fic officially last year in february. i didn't think it would become anything at all. my friends made fun of me for trying out reader insert fanfic for the first time, implying (and outright saying) that reader insert was childish, lower quality writing, but as someone who didn't really read much 2nd POV - i was curious. i wanted to try out the medium. it was a challenge. i tried telling my friends (online and irl) about it, but i got a lot of sneers because... well, it was reader insert. and not canon/canon, or original character/canon content.

i'd been toying with a mandalorian fanfic ever since the end of season two. i loved that show. i wanted to tell a story for myself, so i posted a few chapters over the weeks, thinking i'd abandon it and go back to reading fic... then met all of you. i started gathering followers, something i NEVER thought would happen, and from there mutuals. fellow writers were following me! i had never been so excited in my life!

but i'm going to be so honest: i am quite lonely. i've transitioned away from writing groups/dnd/rp to basically be a full-time fanfiction author, and i feel like i've lost all of my friends. most of them don't want to hear about it, so i don't hit them up anymore. i've had friends question why i don't hit them up, and when i explain that my entire life's kinda become "weight training and fanfic" the conversation stops.

add another layer of getting into anime, something NO ONE in my personal life cares about / thinks highly of, and i kind of only have this blog and my vision and writing and -- well, you all.

and you all are so amazing. my mutuals are so fun, and talented, and crazy smart people. i see their fics, and even if it isn't a fixation of mine, i root for them. then the people who have not only read one chapter of my fic, but multiple? or those who have checked out some of my other work? people who legit message me, send me anonymous questions, engage with what i love ---- i no longer feel so lonely. i stop wondering if i should hang up fanfic so i can gain my old social life back where i still talked to my online friends pre-fic blog often. i don't think 'maybe i'm stupid for doing this.'

i'm okay with being lonely and alone, honestly! i'm an only child lol i grew up with a single mom, my entire life was built on my imagination and the ability to be alone. but i just need every single one of you who have touched my work in some form or another -- just how important you are to me, and how grateful i am that you've not only read my works, but engaged, DM'd me about a thirst trap, anything!

it's very easy to forget there is a human behind the stories you like or reblog or comment on, but i hope you know that this human is just really happy that you've validated her greatest love: writing. and that i don't feel so lonely all the time when i'm chatting with you all, or responding to your infectious excitement. i'm just... i feel so content. and happy. and like i actually belong posting my stories, versus keeping them to myself on a word doc that will die within my external hard drive.

you see me. so thank you for seeing me.

#tw personal #long post cw #i'm okay i promise #but i had to get this off of my chest #after having a conversation with someone today #about how i have 'disappeared' from them #when in actuality it's just that i grew tired of not being heard #or made to feel bad for fanfiction

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thistleandthorn-rpg · 8 months ago

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Congrats Riley on your audition for Elijah Jefferson! Please check out this page for what to do next, and send us his blog within 48 hours! Welcome to the group!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: riley Preferred pronoun: she/her Age: 30 Timezone/Country: gmt/england RP Experience: 15 years Activity Level: 6/10, mostly active wed-sun

IC INFORMATION:

Name: elijah jefferson Designation: submissive (former switch) Age: 35 Birthdate: 6th november 1988 Claim: dissolved Faceclaim: darren criss Orientation: homosexual Occupation: personal chef Kinks: bondage, roleplay, breathplay, pain play, public sex, sex toys, spanking, cnc, tpe, orgasm control/denial, somnophilia. Anti-Kinks: sounding, scat, gore, vore.

Key Points: - was born and raised in england & moved to america when he was 21 - is a recovering alcoholic / went to rehab when he was 22 - relapsed towards the end of his claim coming to an end when he was 30 - he is currently 2 years sober again - has written multiple books but has never published them or thought to publish them - comes from a well off/wealthy family - plays the piano, guitar and violin

BIO

Growing up, Elijah wanted for nothing. He wasn't spoilt but he got everything he could possibly want or need. His parents weren't as loving as they could have been and preferred to throw money at problems. Being an only child meant he was lonely which is how he ended up in the wrong crowd at the age of fifteen - they introduced him to alcohol and drugs and from there it was downhill for Elijah. His first relationship, when he was eighteen, was toxic and unhealthy and with a guy six years older than him. It lasted two years and when he overdosed for the first time, his parents finally intervened and tried to help however they failed to and that's when he got sent to America at the age of twenty-one to go and live with his Uncle. He met the man who would claim him only a few short months after living in America and it was him who pushed him to go to rehab when he was twenty-two. He grew dependent on his claim but they last eight long years and Elijah kept himself together, he got off of the drugs and he became a Chef which he adored doing. He picked up hobbies and made friends and his life was good until he claim cheated on him and he relapsed. Having to find himself again had proven very difficult for him and he had to fight his way back to being sober and single, only himself to rely on. Despite his troubles in life, Elijah was always someone who had the time of day for people. He may not have been his best self most of the time but that didn't mean he didn't care about people - it was himself he struggled to care about.

BIO QUESTIONS:

Describe your occupational journey and how you got to where you are. - My ex claim owned a restaurant and I had always had a love of cooking so when I finally got sober, he gave me a chance in his restaurant and my career started there. I moved up and got better and better which his help and support. After a couple of years, I landed a job as a head chef in a fancy ass restaurant and then my career took a little change, I became a personal chef for wealthy clients.

How would you describe yourself as a Dominant/submissive? - I think there is always something for me to learn. When I got the mark as a switch, I thought it was brilliant as I could learn both sides and get a better understanding of both. It lead me to realise that I am in fact more submissive than Dominant and I take great pride in that. I don't always feel like a good submissive, but I do my best to try and be good.

How do you feel about authority? - It depends, really. I don't mind authority usually but if someone is a complete and utter asshole with it, it makes it hard for me to listen to them and/or want to show them respect. Despite my mark, I don't think I should be treated any less.

#accepted #riley

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sapphos-darlings · 2 years ago

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Hey there, m’ladies! /tips fedora

It’s Sade here! I’m writing to you now because there is, for whatever reason, a huge uptick in hate targeting detransitioning women online at this time, and that sucks. It made me think if I’ve ever been upfront here about the changes in my identity over the course of these past few years, so if I have not, I will be so now, because it is important that there is visibility for us.

When we started this blog several years ago, I was a trans man, 100%, plain and simple. I don’t remember if I had at this stage stopped taking testosterone, which I did for health reasons, as my body never agreed with hormone replacement therapy - but if I hadn’t, it would come soon after. At the time I stopped taking T, nothing about it was due to changes in my identity. HRT was making me very sick, and at this point, I’d already quit it once for the same reason, only to pick it up again after two years as I’d recovered, thinking it was a coincidence. Two years back on T and I’d learned it was not a coincidence; HRT was contributing to my ill health. I knew I would not be prescribed HRT again after stopping the treatment twice: no sane health care professional is going to look at that and go “okay, nothing to see here, go ahead and pick it up again”, so I had to make the final choice on whether I’d continue despite my ailing health, or quit it for good.

I chose to quit.

This didn’t affect how I viewed myself. I’ve experienced cross-gender identification, as they clinically call it, and dysphoria from early childhood onwards. My first instance of telling my parents that I did not want to be bought “girl toys” because I was “boyish” was around 5 or 6 years old. I’ve consistently presented in a masculine manner since childhood, and preferred the activities and expression associated with boys rather than girls, and this was not due to enforcement of gender roles in my family or immediate circumstances growing up. I’ve always been allowed to do what I wanted, within reason; for example, I was prohibited from opening manhole covers to go looking for frogs in the sewers, but climbing trees and swordfighting and carrying a bow everywhere I went, which was usually in the middle of the forest or a ditch, was fine. (I did continue to open manhole covers to go looking for frogs in the sewers despite it being forbidden, but that is besides the point.) My mum wanted a princess to doll up, but gave up on that within the first couple years of my life due to my predictable counteraction of undressing myself if I was put in a dress, or alternatively rolling in mud to ruin the outfit, or tearing it up doing unladylike things while inappropriately dressed for the occasion. I made a mess of our bathroom trying to pee like a boy, and by 10 years old, I was crying myself to sleep because I’d realised I was going to grow up into a woman, and felt like my life was therefore already over. I wanted to be a boy, and I wanted to grow up to be a man.

This dysphoria did not let up when I entered my teens, but I’m not going to write about that period of time in more detail solely because it is a very painful subject that I’m not in the mental place to revisit. To put it shortly - this was the latter half of the first decade of the 2000s, transgender experiences were not widely known or recognised, and there was no mainstream promotion of resources or information about gender dysphoria. And still I ran into one example after another: people who had gone through horrific pain, but who I immediately recognised my own experience from. During these years, I realised that I was transsexual, as it was called then, and that I had to hide it and suppress it, because if I didn’t, I would die.

It was only with the help of the other mod of this blog that I finally at 18, after moving out of my childhood home to live on my own, began to feel safe exploring my gender and my expression. With her help, I embraced my male identity, and she’s told me countless times how it was for her to witness that angry, self-destructive girl blossom into a much calmer, much more stable young man. I spent a year on my self-exploration, making absolutely certain by journaling and endlessly seeking information, that transition was the right choice for me. I asked myself all the questions, I looked up all the consequences, I wanted to know everything about transition and trans futures and trans presents and trans pasts, and I even looked into detransition to make sure I wasn’t transitioning for any of the reasons that people who regretted their choices later had.

And then, at 19 going 20, I sought out a referral to the gender clinic of my area, beginning the six months long evaluation process for a diagnosis. The criteria at that time was strict: not only did you need the two year long “real life” experience of living in your chosen gender role, but you had to pass all sorts of psychiatric and physical evaluations to qualify for it. I was recognised as traumatised, anxious and depressed, but of sound mind and with a consistent, typical history of transgender identification from childhood onwards, by all of their criteria that needed to be crossed for them to diagnose me. And I was diagnosed, and prescribed topical testosterone to start at this point.

I loved being on testosterone. I loved all the changes it was giving me, even if those were very few in reality. I felt amazing in my body, and I felt amazing as a human being, and I was genuinely enjoying myself at this time. But it started digging into my body very fast in all the wrong ways, beginning with my brain; it was exacerbating and transforming my existing mental health conditions in ways that I didn’t know how to cope with. My depression turned angry instead of sad, and my self-harm habit grew worse and more frequent with suicidal breakdowns being a fairly common occurrence. My anxiety turned into all-consuming paranoia that eventually exploded into psychotic symptoms. And my physical health was imploding - at a point, I was visiting urgent care every week with terrifying problems like the inability to swallow anything more solid than soup, I was literally choking even on ramen, and could not eat meat at all. My body was hurting, I had dizzy spells that made me unable to get out of bed, I had a recurrent UTI that came back for about seven times in the span of six months and I was living on cranberry juice and antibiotics all the way until the doctors couldn’t even find an infection anymore, my body was just so wrecked from them that I was starting to experience chronic pain when urinating.

It was my mental health that made me drop T for the first time, rather than the physical ailments. I just thought I was dying, and had no idea this was related to T at all. I’d never heard of anything like this in context of HRT at the time, so I hardly connected it, aside from guesswork regarding my bodily pains being a result of muscle growth with no proper exercise, benign things like this. I was planning my funeral, and while all of this was going on, I couldn’t keep up the routine of applying topical T every day, and I eventually realised it’d probably be healthier for me to not be on HRT at all than it would be to take it infrequently and potentially destabilising my body’s hormonal balance.

I don’t remember what happened between that point and going back on T well, only that I recovered to a degree where I was now attending a rehab program three times a week, and my life was looking up. I chose to start Sustanon injections instead of topical to avoid the previous issue with routines, should my mental health get worse again, and I am not kidding when I say that the injection was the highlight of my biweekly existence. I felt on the top of the world every day my nurse stuck that needle in my arm, and I loved living.

Two years in, my mental health was down the shitter again to the point where I could not leave the house, and my body was breaking down on me. I developed tachycardia during this time, not clinically significant enough to diagnose but significant enough to have me on what’s now looking like lifelong treatment of beta blockers. And then I started losing my hair, and it was the last straw that made me turn from clearly mentally ill to batshit crazy - I could not shower if there was light in the room, and I wore gloves to touch my body. I covered all the mirrors in the house, and never turned the lights on.

And as I said before, this was the point where I had to make a permanent choice: I either accept that this is my life, or I quit T to recover. (And save my hair.) I didn’t have long to make that choice and it tortured me for months. I did not want to stop T. I’d been on for four years combined, and I’d gotten very few changes; my voice is amazing, and I have a faint trail of belly hair, but that is just about the extent of what had happened. I had no significant bottom growth, I’d never left the typical female range on the clit/cock spectrum. To date, the best I can say for my facial hair is that I have tiny tufts of greyish, soft whiskers above my lip, and some curly pubes under my chin, around the top of my neck. Nothing on my face. And I realised - nothing that I’d gotten from T was going to go away if I stopped HRT, and staying on T was giving me nothing more, while taking away so much.

So I quit, but I did not detransition, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. I could not bear being referred to with a female name, and female pronouns made me panic at best and want to skin myself at worst. But I wanted to get better, so I started to work on that, little by little. I didn’t want to suffer, especially looking at a future where I might feminise in appearance, and besides, I did not feel safe or welcome with cisgender men, nor was I interested in hanging out with them (at all.) I’d always been a female and always felt kinship with other females, women and other; I understood them, and they understood me, and I felt safe with them which I did not feel at all with men, due to my difficult childhood and overall history. So I started to build on that - joined all sorts of sisterhoods, began to appreciate my female body for being pretty fucking amazing. (Female bodies are pretty fucking amazing. We’re made to endure and survive. Our bodies may not be strong by design, but we are hardy as fuck, and always the last woman standing when it comes to disasters like famines and long winters, and while an average woman may not be able to win a wrestling match with the average man, we will most definitely outlast him when injured or ill or starved - the odds are in our favour when it comes to persevering in this world. We were built to make it here.)

I grew up surrounded by SSA girls. I don’t exactly know how this happened, but from late preteen onwards, I was hanging out with mostly gay people, particularly gay and bisexual women. This was my community, where I truly felt I belonged. So I started digging my way back in. This is part of the reason this blog exists: we needed a place where we could uplift people like us, women like us, and individuals like myself who are on the female side of something else.

Through all of this, reconditioning myself to let go of my fear and hatred of everything feminine, and embracing my body as a beautiful thing that is working for me, not against me, I started to become more comfortable with myself. And through doing so, I started feeling more confident letting go of the male mask I’d been clinging to despite the whole of my biology being against me on it: it had taken all of my mental power to make sure I passed, every day, and every instance of not passing was crushing both in the mental sense that it reminded me of what I lacked and what hurt me all of the time, but also in the sense that it made me so incredibly afraid for my safety, and it was just not working out for me. I started dressing up the way I wanted to, chose my clothes on the basis of what was comfortable to wear and what was fun to wear, rather than whether it was hiding my form or making me appear more angular or mannish. And I felt... delivered. Freed. Amazing. People around me didn’t actually immediately attack me on sight when I didn’t pass as a man. They didn’t care. I was the only one who actually had cared if I passed or not. I started experimenting with my style, and it turned out that what was comfortable and fun for me to wear was usually female-cut shirts, fabrics used for women’s clothes, trousers that fit the female form. No longer were my shirts crawling up my throat and too stiff to ever feel unconstricted by, and no longer were my jeans biting into my hips and twenty miles too long underneath my feet. And I regained the ability to wear patterns and prints, which are forbidden in the male world. The cutest design you are allowed to wear as a man is the logo of a university you’ve never been to. Women’s clothes are fucking amazing when it comes to diversity of style, colour and design.

I did not go full feminine. I have never been feminine and I will never be. I kept my hair cropped short both because I was still paranoid about it and because I frankly do not fucking know what to do with long hair, I don’t understand hair care or hair styling and I always end up looking like a depressed mop when I let it grow out. Shaved hair is great, it looks great, and I feel great in it. (And so it’s ironic that I’m growing it out right now, for reasons wholly unrelated to femininity, and more to a deep-seated desire for a manbun which returns periodically to me every few years or so.) My clothes are at best androgynous, and I love being as butch as my bisexual ass will carry me.

Over the course of all of this happening, I also received a mental health diagnosis that changed my treatment entirely. Through trauma/dissociation focused talk therapy, I started to actually work on the problems that had been recognised this whole time, but neglected and ignored and shoved aside despite my lifelong history of being a patient in the mental health care system.

The combination of these two factors, of me easing myself back into a more natural expression and acceptance of the reality of my body alongside with proper therapy that targeted the damage underlying all of my mental health symptoms, is what ultimately led to me realising that I feel fine as a woman.

I’m not dysphoric anymore. I don’t feel all-consuming grief at the thought of growing old as a woman. I love the idea of becoming this silver-haired kickass granny one day. I am proud of being a same-sex attracted female. I prefer she/her pronouns now, because I don’t have to panic every time I’m being referred to - I don’t have to defend myself, or worry that I’ll be thrown out of the closet and into the midst of lions. I feel confident and great in my skin and my health is actually a thousand times better than it’s ever been, though it looks like I’m finally developing a long overdue case of fibromyalgia, but hey, maybe it’s Maybelline or maybe she’s got long COVID, we just don’t know (yet).

I don’t hate any of the changes I got on T and I would have loved to get more, but on certain parts, I’m glad I didn’t. I already mentioned I wouldn’t know what to do with my hair if my life depended on it, just imagine what it’d be like if I was growing a beard. I was also very much right on the count of “nothing that I got will go away”, because I’m still a hairy beast with whiskers and a deliciously dark voice, but I’ve got a ton of range on that now and I’m so happy with the sex characteristics I’ve got going for me. I don’t feel ashamed of my body, and somehow in the same vein I’ve been released from the confines of conventional beauty standards, because I am very much the epitome of ugly if you ask the mainstream media, and I fucking love it, and want to be even more so. I am hairy, I am fat, I am masculine, I’m opinionated and annoying and I’m not going to apologise for any of that again.

And now, if you’ve made it this far - great, first off, but also why - I just want to add my grievances to the bottom line. Everywhere I go, detransition is assumed to equal transphobia. I give no two fucks about what anybody else in this world does with their bodies, actually. I’ve made these choices for my own mental and physical wellbeing, to express myself as I am, and I wouldn’t unmake any of them if I was given a do-over of the whole deal. I am incredibly fucking tired however of being asked, repeatedly, if I hate all trans people, or if I really think all trans people are deluded. I have never voiced such an opinion in my life. If you believe in the slightest that detransitioning equals this ideology, then you are a victim of us-vs-them propaganda, and have fallen for a smear campaign.

We are not a hivemind of transphobes out to ruin everyone’s access to HRT and surgery. I am an individual. I am partnered with a nonbinary person, and I will never be anything but ambiguous and gender non-conforming myself. I am so left on the political spectrum that the questionnaires that come with the Finnish elections each time around keep recommending the communist party for me to vote for. I would strangle Donald Trump with his own guts and shove Putin’s underwear down his shitty little windpipe and not think twice about it, and if you need an abortion, my house may be quite far away but it does have a spare bed open for you.

I am not your terf sockpuppet. Detransitioners are not your right wing smear campaign, hellbent on criminalising the LGBT. We are you. None of us was more or less trans than any of the currently transitioning people are. We all have our own stories. We all come from our own circumstances. We all have our own circumstances. We all feel our own, unique ways about our transition journeys, as well as our detransition ones.

Please do not ostracise and abuse us because our stories seem scary to you. We are not your enemy.

#detrans #detransition #detrans kinksters feel free to drown yourself in the toilet if you so much as twitch towards this post #thank you for your continued cooperation #mod sade

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the-rightful-king-of-jotunheim · 3 years ago

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Neither Joined Nor Apart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, only one or two tho

Requested by: No one, absolutely no one asked for this.

Word Count: 1036

A/N: I realized that I like sharing my writings (if you can call them that, that is) here with you guys even though I get no feedback whatsoever, which is not ideal but totally fine, I can’t blame anyone for not doing something idk where this is going. Anyway, what I meant to say was that I like posting here and recently (aka for the past two to three years) I haven’t been able to post barely anything because I couldn’t finish anything I started. So I decided to share the things that are not finished, and would not have been finished anytime soon, for the sake of making sure my blog isn’t as dry as the desert and saying what the hell and making myself happy. So, here, have the first piece of this series (i suppose?) which is far from being completed but it is at least something. Also, so sorry for the long rant on the notes ehe.

They… Used to have a rhythm. Time seemed to flow seamlessly whenever they were together. It was easy to be around them; they didn’t intimidate anyone, managed to put a smile on everyone who was within the reach of their love.

However, something seemed to have changed. They didn’t flow anymore. It was… forced. Every word, every breath, every glance looked like it came from a place that used to be there but now was nothing more than an abandoned shed. Their lips continued to exchange small smiles yet their eyes did not join the dance like they used to.

Conversation didn’t appear to be as natural, yet none of them tried as hard as they would to keep it alive. Just like their relationship, the time they spent together seemed to dissipate. Slowly but surely. Gone with each passing second.

It was a sad sight to behold, yes, but they weren’t sad. They knew what was happening came to them naturally and for that they could neither blame themselves nor the other one. The air around them was thick with sorrow and they swam through it like it was nothing. What else could they do? Did people think they did not fight for what they had? The thing that everyone seemed to be envious of? The thing that seemed to come once in a lifetime? Did people really think they didn’t know how special what they had together was?

Because they knew. They knew about what was once burning, what consumed them whole and made them rise as different people, different but together. The warmth that helped them stay afloat this deep ocean that their lives were, they knew about it. They were constantly reminded of it in the other’s eyes. It’s what made them lit up, it’s what made them a haven for when they were in desperate need for some sense of safety. They knew. They knew how special it was, they knew that they would never be able to find anything like it, not only them but the whole world as well, ever again. But they also knew that once it was gone, it was gone.

And they tried. They tried to keep it from disappearing away. They relived the moments where they felt it the most intensely. They painted the same pictures, posed the same poses, they tried with all they had to turn things back to how they were. Alas, what they knew from the beginning was, as it always were, true; try all they might, all was futile.

The question that remained was “What changed?” What changed in them, around them, between them? What was the spark that ignited this massive emotional earthquake that seemed to change it all? His eyes were the same. Her eyes were the same. The way they slept, tangled up in each other, making two people into one as if it was physically possible, was also the same. The comfort of each other’s company was the same. The way they looked at each other never changed, not even once. The way her hand fitted into his was exactly the same, if anything it was a more perfect fit as even their hands had become so used to being so close all the time. They were more in sync with each other than they ever were. So, what had changed?

They didn’t know. They didn’t care. Because neither of them found the strength to fix what was causing this falling apart. Frankly, they were tired. Tired of thinking why, tired of thinking how, tired of thinking. They used to not think about them, what they had. They didn’t need to. That was what was so fascinating about what they had. It appeared to be so natural that neither of them felt the need to approach it as a foreign part of themselves, felt the need to approach it quizzically, like every other god damned thing in the mess they called their lives. It was what comforted them, made it easy to sleep at night. For once in both their lives, they had something they, for some strange reason, didn’t feel the need to avoid but rather, embrace.

Sleepless nights were turned into sacred rituals of deep slumber. The muscles tense with caution were relaxed as they touched each other. Disturbed souls had found their peace as they held each others’ eyes, glances hiking across the rooms they had been in, desperately trying to find each other. A breath they wished were the last was now a silent prayer for others to come, come and get tangled with the other’s.

Oh, how in love they were. It would have put Shakespeare to shame for even the playful bard who’s become the master of love could not even dream of such love. It was a love that could not have been immortalized by words for nothing ever created by mere mortals could capture the beauty and the astonishing nature of it. It wasn’t just a feeling, their love, it was physical, it was palpable. You could almost touch it, see it, hear it through the air whenever you saw the two together. It was the harmonious dance of two scarred souls that fascinated the untrained eye and filled with doubt the trained one. For how could it be trained? If what it observed now was true love, what was all the others it had seen? A child’s toy? A bard’s fiction? A story for the unlucky to hold their despair at bay for if they knew they could never love, life would become meaningless?

However magnificent it once was, now it was gone. And it would be best if everybody came to terms with it. It would be best if they finally stopped pretending in hopes of awakening something that was dead, had been for a long time. It was only hurting them both.

They didn’t want to hurt, or feel hurt, anymore. They were broken enough with their nightmare filled nights and brainwashed pasts before they got into this whole mess, they didn’t need to lose pieces of themselves further.

So they just let themselves fall into this new flow that was neither joined nor apart.

Taglist: @theoneanna @powerstrangerdacre @fairlightswiftly

Thank you so much for reading! Remember you can always send me an ask or message me with what you thought about any of my stories or something totally random! Feedback is always very much welcome and deeply appreciated.

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oh-boy-me · 3 years ago

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I just read both the australia and museum post and the chaos levels are top tier, but like imagine the chaos that ensues if lord diavolo discovers about amusment parks and immediately just buys tickets to disneyland. Lucifer is basically the dad trying not to loose his children(lord diavolo included). Lord diavolo wanting to ride a loopy rollercoaster and just having the time of his life! (Also I highkey see diavolo ordering lucifer to make a disneyland in devildom tbh) Also mouse ear headbands!

This..... this took forever

Hey there anon! Sorry it took literally a year to answer this! If you’re still into Obey Me, I hope this was a pleasant surprise.

Also for the first time ever a scenario post is being put under the cut for length purposes. This scenario is 2.6k words Jesus

Please note that the last time I went to Disney was in 2015, so anything that’s newer than that is taken from the extensive reading of Disney advice blogs I read in preparation for this post. Anything older than that is likely from experience.

Also, I tried my best to keep this spoiler free for the attractions that can be affected by it.

So the Devildom DOES have the concept of amusement parks. I slept on this ask for so long that we’ve learned about Devil’s Coast. It seems to be more akin to a smaller-scale theme park, though. Small-ish. I’m used to NYC idk what constitutes as small.

Something like Disney World is on such a larger scale!! When Diavolo heard about that, he knew they had to go.

They are going to Disney World in Orlando because it’s the only one I’ve been to.

Lucifer is REALLY getting tired of these field trips, but there would be no weird animals, and there would be no sobering lessons on global extinction events at a family-friendly amusement park. He. He can handle this.

Solomon has actually been banned from all Walt Disney theme parks. We’re talking blacklist-level banned. He’s barred from ever entering any Disney park ever again. However, this was back in 1976, so this must be, like, his son or something, right? There’s no way this is the same guy. Thought the security guard who let him in.

What did Solomon do to get banned? When asked, he only gave a curious hum. “Yeah, I wonder.”

The place is split into four parks, so they’ll spend one day in each.

Barbatos continued to flex his power as the only one in the group with a brain cell, being sure to get them all fast passes. He even set time back just for the passes while they were booking the rides they wanted to cut the lines for, so if they don’t get used he’s going to be very snippy.

Also for convenience sake this is taking place in an AU where everything is the same but COVID doesn’t exist to shut down some rides and attractions.

Day 1: Hollywood Studios

MC and Simeon basically have to coerce Lucifer into letting everyone run free instead of making them all line up with a walking rope all day. He relents on the condition that everyone checks in periodically so he can at least know they haven’t killed anyone.

Nobody will check in except for maybe Beelzebub and those at Purgatory Hall.

Levi immediately gathered his fellow Star Wars fans (which basically meant calling over Mammon Belphie and Asmo and then pulling in two unsuspecting people suddenly given the title of “Star Wars fan”), and made a beeline for Galaxy’s Edge. There’s a LOT to do there and damn it if he wasn’t going to hit all of it.

First up for their group is the interactive Millennium Falcon Smuggler’s Run. They fail the mission. Levi’s pretty pissed, but everyone agrees that it was fun nonetheless. They really felt like they were doing a mission in the Falcon! Plus, the gameplay element was totally up the alley of most of this group. Simeon does feel a little nauseous from Luke’s jerky steering, though.

Did you know that Diavolo loves Toy Story? He does. He’s very much enjoying the Slinky roller coaster with Barbatos.

Barbatos would rather be spending time at the shows and performances, but oh no god forbid we don’t get an autograph from Doc McStuffins. Lucifer please come find him and save him.

Lucifer somehow wandered into the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration. He wants out. Barbatos please come find him and save him.

In general, Lucifer isn’t a fan of these sorts of places, so honestly he’s just hiding from the others and waiting for today to be over. Barbatos told him that there are parks that don’t revolve around rides and characters, and he’s holding out for those.

Luckily for them Diavolo wants to do LITERALLY everything, and that does include the shows, so Barbatos and Lucifer can have at least some fun today

Levi, Asmo, and Beel are about to start their relay for getting character autographs when Satan shows up out of nowhere and starts dragging everyone over to the Tower of Terror. Solomon bars all attempts to flee on a certain Avatar of Greed’s side.

The line to the Tower is so long, and honestly? Satan feels like the ride didn’t live up to the literal hour they waited to get on. Like yeah it was fun, but way too short.

He voices those thoughts, and Levi, who Satan knows is afraid of heights, is pretty fucking livid and drags him to Rock n Rollercoaster as revenge. Satan hates roller coasters.

As for the others, Asmo and Luke have a lot of fun on the thrill rides. Mammon and Simeon do not. Beel is a little spooked by them but still manages to have fun, while Belphie and Solomon think they’re alright.

Eventually, Simeon gets too sick to move, and they assign him to Luke. They say it’s because he’s too short to ride some of the rides (even though he’s literally not, screw you guys.)

Barbatos messes with time a lil bit so they can enjoy the Fantasmic Show and Fireworks to wrap the day up.

Levi is very jealous of Diavolo’s Doc McStuffins autograph. Somehow Asmo has Buzz Lightyear’s number.

Day 2: Animal Kingdom

Satan is vibrating

He literally instantly sprints to the Kilimanjaro Safari. And good for him; that’s something best done while the sun isn’t high up. The whole gang actually agrees to check that one out, and while Satan isn’t thrilled to be within 50 feet of Lucifer, he’s glad Simeon is there because he remembers how his presence lured animals out in Australia.

Simeon also finds himself pulled along the trails by Satan and parents watch in horror as a gorilla gives him a friendly pat on the back.

If you didn’t know, Animal Kingdom is divided into the two continents of Asia and Africa, as well as the secret eighth continent Avatar (2009). Diavolo heard great things about the Flight of Passage ride, but he totally forgot to tell Barbatos about it, so they’re stuck on a three hour wait line now.

Levi takes Luke on the Everest roller coaster because Simeon saw it in the distance and looked like he was about to cry. Levi wouldn’t shut up about how the yeti effect needs to be fixed and Solomon had to explain that the effect literally couldn’t support itself.

Simeon, having escaped a roller coaster for the first and only time on this trip, grabs lunch with Lucifer and Solomon and they enjoy the Lion King performance together. Solomon’s the only one of them who’s seen the movie, but the others still found it fun. Solomon keeps making up random plot points that don’t exist, though. Remember when Simba was captured by pirates?

Mammon found the Bugs Life show very scary. Normally Asmo would laugh at him, but he’s afraid of any bug he’s never seen before and at least Mammon was afraid of the things that were supposed to get you. They agree that bugs are still not their friends.

Satan has many things to say about the Dinosaur ride and most of them aren’t good. Belphie thought it was pretty ok, though. Lucifer can’t believe there was a sobering lesson on a global extinction event at this family-friendly amusement park.

Diavolo is still in line. Barbatos abandons him. He accompanies Luke to the kiddie fossil thing and actually finds it more tolerable. Oh yeah that’s the other secret ninth continent, Dinoland.

Beel and Belphie spend most of the day together at the various petting zoos. Belphie comes back knowing more than he ever wanted to about conservation. He thought Rafiki’s Planet Watch was going to be about watching other planets, not this one!

Asmo gets very interested in the costumes of the performers, as well as the parrots in the bird show. He could probably make some really colorful designs with those as inspiration.

Nearby, Mammon runs into Kevin and squawks in surprise. The zoo staff spend the next two hours trying to find the bird that escaped.

Diavolo says the ride was worth it, don’t worry.

Honestly this park has a lot of stuff that wouldn’t translate well to a funny scenario post so this part might be a little short compared to the others. I can only talk about a zoo for so long.

Anyone remember the Honey I Shrunk the Kids 4D show? Apparently it closed in 2016 to make room for more Star Wars stuff.

Anyway, at the center of it all there’s the Tree of Life, which is really pretty all day. Lucifer is thrilled to have a decently obvious meet-up place, too. They get to catch the brief awakening show at night.

They’re very bummed to learn the Rivers of Light show isn’t happening anymore, so Levi pulls it up on his phone so they can watch it in spirit.

Then Satan learns about the Wilderness Explorers badges and the others spend the rest of the time preventing too much collateral damage over the fact that nobody told him.

Day 3: Epcot

Finally, Lucifer thinks. Boo, Luke thinks.

Beel didn’t expect this park to be that interesting to him (he’s much more into the wonder and immersion of Hollywood Studios and Magic Kingdom), but then he learned about the restaurants. China, Norway, France, Mexico, Germany, Morocco, Italy, Japan, Canada--Canada? Huh. Canada. There’s so many different restaurants from so many cuisines to try, and yeah he knows that it’s definitely not the same as going to the place and it’s overpriced (sorry Lucifer), but it’s all right there. He makes certain to take MC on a deluxe Epcot restaurant tour.

Oh yeah MC. That’s the first time we’ve heard from them in a while. They’re doing whatever you want them to I guess.

Levi buys so much from the Japanese gift shops that he has to go back to the hotel for a bit to drop his bags off.

Satan and Diavolo aren’t much better, but their stashes are more varied.

Also, Diavolo found Mouse Gear, and bought everyone a pair of ears. Lucifer says that everyone has to keep them on because it’s what Lord Diavolo wants, but he is by far the most upset about them. Mammon snaps a picture and Lucifer throws his DDD into the lake.

Asmo and Belphie decide they’re gonna take it easy this day, and they nab Solomon and Barbatos for some exhibition hopping.

Luke finds Mission Space and please father no Simeon thought he was safe he thought he was safe here no please

Aside from that, though, Luke honestly finds this part of the park boring. He’d have been more interested in these attractions elsewhere, but as a kid he’s in Disney for roller coasters and Mickey Mouse.

Simeon is very grateful that Luke doesn’t have much that he wants to do, because it means that he can enjoy the Gran Fiesta and Living with the Land boat rides and have a single moment where he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be sick. He’s not even afraid of the rides; he just gets motion sick easily.

Asmo makes sure to see the Chinese acrobat show, and Mammon catches that with the show-hopping gang since there isn’t much he wants to do here either.

Epcot has alcohol and Solomon hasn’t been able to drink in ages so he really wants to spend some time doing that with MC. No demons allowed, thank you very much. He doesn’t hold his liquor as well as he’d like you to believe, but he just gets really talkative when drunk so it’s ok.

Epcot is a nice day to take a breather and Lucifer and Barbatos definitely needed a breather before tomorrow.

Day 4: Magic Kingdom

This is the day Diavolo has been waiting for. The crème de la crop, the best park for kids and kids in a future king of the Devildom’s body.

Also I feel like now is a good time to mention that this probably isn’t a reasonable order of events because I don’t remember the map layout of these places idk Disney city planning

This time. This time, Levi, Asmo and Beel are gonna get those autographs, dammit. Levi doesn’t even know who half of these characters are but hell if he’s not getting their autograph.

Mammon actually really loves the mascots too, but he’s embarrassed about it so he’ll only try to get one if he can use the guise of MC wanting one. MC, please help him out

Belphie isn’t big on rides, but he does have a soft spot for the more retro ones like Dumbo and Seven Dwarves. And like I said before, Beel loves Magic Kingdom for its wonder. So Belphie is perfectly happy being led (read: piggybacked) around by Beel today, because their favorite attractions match up pretty well here.

Actually, Beel’s favorite Disney movie is Lilo and Stitch, but. RIP Stitch’s Great Escape ride 2004-2018

Diavolo and Lucifer take a moment to enjoy the Carousel of Progress, and they reflect on how much the Human World is always changing and how much about it they still don’t know. It really does make them think, like. Grandma found the VR games at Christmas! The Devildom doesn’t have grandmas!

Mammon is terrified of the Haunted Mansion ride, and Satan has literally never felt so much schadenfreude in his life.

Mammon’s afraid of most rides to be fair, but he likes water rides, so Levi eventually takes pity on him and they go on Splash Mountain together more than once.

The Peter Pan ride broke down

Luke wanted to go on Space Mountain and Simeon was the only one around, so. RIP Simeon ????-2021

Diavolo was That Guy. If you know, you know.

Beel accidentally spun the teacups way too fast. Not even Solomon got out of that one unscathed.

Following that, Solomon manages to drag Barbatos onto the Jungle Cruise while Lucifer is busy. What is Lucifer busy with? Riding the Buzz Lightyear shooting ride over and over until he hits every single target and gets a perfect score at a Disney ride, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve. Anyway, Barbatos finds it really charming and Solomon finds it a nice break that he didn’t know he needed.

While looking for a food place that sells water for a reasonable price, a kid runs up to Asmo asking for a picture and autograph. He’s kind of confused, but goes along with it to make the kid happy.

Turns out, Asmo’s so naturally charming that they mistook him for a prince. Other groups see that family and follow suit. Mammon eventually catches wind of it and shows up to charge a fee. The parents are pretty sure Disney doesn’t charge fees like that, but their kids really want a pic with Asmo so they hand over the two bucks. (“Oh it’s so low” come on Mammon’s not a dick to children.)

And that’s the story of how Mammon and Asmo ended up in Disney Jail. You’re very much not allowed to pretend to be a cast member and then charge money for it. Lucifer has to bail them out as their “guardian,” and as punishment they aren’t allowed to opt out of It’s a Small World.

Small World isn’t that bad imho, and those like Diavolo, Satan, Simeon, and Levi would like it a lot. But Lucifer has been playing parent all day, Belphie does not like the noise, and Solomon has literally been on this ride at least fifty times. Very mixed feelings on this one, but it feels fitting to end with that and a fireworks show.

All in all though this wasn’t the worst trip Lucifer’s been on (cue everyone applauding for some reason).

Barbatos by far had the least fun of them all because for four days he was stuck in a park where the mascot is a fucking rodent and he wasn’t allowed to annihilate Mickey Mouse where he stood

“Disneyland Devildom when” “Lord Diavolo, no”

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #my favorite park is def epcot and my favorite ride is def splash mountain #also my sister helped me out by reminding me about animal kingdom but most of her photos were of random birds

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grittyreadsfic · 3 years ago

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hello my friends, one singular person asked for this weeks ago so i’m here with my most unhinged rec list yet: tk and nolan.

now, this one was hard to reign in, so i really didn’t. this pairing had maybe 230 fics in the tag when i first started reading hockey fic, and it’s now over 900, and i’ve read far too many of them, and that makes it so hard to parse it down. so i just...didn't!

so with that said, please enjoy so you want to get into tknp: a beginners guide to a classic case of idiots to lovers

i told myself that i couldn’t rec an author’s entire body of work but then i remembered this is my blog and i do what i want, so i did some consolidating. here’s a list of the quintessential authors for this pairing, you can start at any of their profiles and pick any of their fics at random, and it’ll be one of the best ones for the pairing, hands down.

therainbowsedge: i’d start with the summer camp fic, or the sex toys one, as both beautifully capture the true idiots to lovers nature of this pairing, but just top tier writing all around

manybumblebees: the wedding fic is so tender and port stanley is a classic, but literally pick any single fic and you’ll have a perfect tknp fic. i’m not kidding

jamesvanriemsdick: their tknp fics in their series are some of the hidden gems of this pairing (the tk heartbeat fic makes me LOSE it) but the delaware fic or the seattle fic…..there’s really something for every mood

catchascatchcan: start with era of gods because i could write literal essays on how it’s some of the best fantasy worldbuilding i’ve ever read, but then just read everything else on their account, including non tknp fics. you won’t regret it

hackysack: ao3 user hackysack has written one of two timeloop fics that i absolutely adore, and i thought about just calling that one out in particular, but all of their work deserves the attention

canary: nothing to prove was the first tknp fic i ever read and i was immediately hooked. all of their fics are a good starting place for the pairing, and just really give you a feeling for the pairing

and now, for the fic recs!

to be, despite it all by smudgedfreckles

summary: or, nolan patrick’s gender thesis, by travis konecny.

why i love it: there’s not a lot ofo nonbinary characters in media, even in fic, but this fic’s treatment of nolan and their path to figuring out their gender just feels so real and made me feel so seen. tk’s characterization is also just top notch, and it’s just a super sweet story about two people who love each other

last ones standing by makeit_takeit

summary: If you’re committed to finding your future spouse, reads the last line of the ad, and are ready to look at yourself and your love life in a whole new way, apply now.

At the bottom of the ad there’s a link, and Travis finds his finger hovering over the screen, lip still caught between his teeth.

“I mean,” he says very reasonably, speaking out loud to his empty apartment like some sort of possibly-crazy person, “just applying doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I just fill it out, and see what happens. It’s not like I’m really gonna get picked to be on TV, come on.”

He snorts out loud, just to show his apartment he hasn’t lost his grip on reality or anything; he fully understands how ludicrous that would be.

Then he clicks the link anyway, because yolo or whatever.

why i love it: what part of a married at first sight fic doesn’t make you want to immediately dive right in? the concept is fun, the execution is absolutely flawless, and it captures their dynamic so well while letting it develop naturally

motivation by connectknee

summary: Kevin knows when to back off, the article said. He knows just when to shut up and leave Patty alone, something Travis has never known how to do.

why i love it: the thing i love about this pairing is that tk is loud and in your face, and nolan’s more reserved, a little quieter, a little harder to read. this fic does a really great job of exploring how tk could feel like maybe he’s just a bit too much and is one of my favorites in terms of miscommunication

a tenderness grows by rusesdeguerre

summary: Nolan wouldn’t say that landing a job as the Philadelphia Flyers’ psychotic and probably clinically insane mascot was a childhood dream of his. Maybe tangentially: playing pond hockey in –30°C weather and pretending to be Sidney Crosby is practically a rite of passage when you grow up in Manitoba. That, and experiencing the distinct displeasure that is thousands of mosquitoes sucking your blood out when your father drags you on a father-son camping trip into the backwoods of the northern Canadian Prairies.

why i love it: this was the first fic i recced on this blog, and i stand by that decision. a fic where nolan is not only not a hockey player, but is in fact the person in the gritty suit? absolutely perfect, and so charming from start to finish

meet me at my window by springsteen

summary: Travis has lived in Philadelphia for a few years now, long enough to know there isn’t a major city in America where superheroes don’t destroy an entire city block trying to save humanity or whatever. He can deal with all the super-shit, but Travis did not sign up for getting woken up from a deep sleep because some fucker’s trying to break in through his window.

(5 times the super-villain known as "The Cat" breaks into Travis's apartment, plus 1 time Travis invites him in.)

why i love it: there’s a lot of things to love here, but the concept is just absolutely one of my all time favorite aus ever. it’s fun and charming and the perfect glimpse into a world where heroes and villains exist, and what it’s like just to be a run of the mill kind of guy existing in it. tk and nolan’s back and forth in this make it so engaging, and it’s such a top tier fic

body’s in trouble by cloudsandpassingevents

summary: “Oh, sorry,” someone says. “Didn’t know anyone else was here.”

Nolan freezes, then turns around very slowly. When he looks up, Nicklas fucking Backstrom is standing behind him in a hoodie and baggy sweats, holding the biggest bag of Swedish Fish Nolan’s ever seen in his life in one hand.

“Uh,” Nolan says around the pop tart between his teeth. “Yeah.”

What the fuck, his brain helpfully supplies.

why i love it: from nolan’s inner voice, to the way the author explores all the dynamics within the team, to the way they write the unexpected but actually, it kind of makes sense friendship between nolan and backstrom, is just absolutely fantastic. there’s a lot of moments that circle back and build on each other in a way that really just makes it super compelling

rhizomatic foundations by lighthousetowers

summary: Twenty days after he moves in with Kevin Hayes, twenty days – three months, five months, depending on how you look at it – after not talking to TK, TK shows up at the front door with a plant the size of a basketball in his hands.

TK grins. "Patty, meet Reginald." He lifts up the plant. "Reggie, meet Patty. He's going to be your new - caretaker."

"What the fuck," says Nolan, not moving a single muscle.

Or: That Nolan can hear the plant talk might as well just happen.

why i love it: this is probably my favorite magical realism fic just about ever. it’s fun and charming and a little weird, but in the best possible way. there’s such a wonderful narrative in it, and lighthousetowers always has such beautiful writing, and it really shines in this one. the dialogue and nolan’s characterization are also part of what set it apart for me as one of the best tknp fics

in the dark of any town by mengetpegged

summary: If the voice has an accent at all, it’s a flat prairie Canadian, with none of G’s French-Canadian softness at the edges. But mostly, the accent is just ‘pissed off,’ which TK believes is a default setting for ghosts.

“Who are you?” TK asks, and he doesn’t like how strained his voice sounds, doesn’t like the tinge of anxiety tinting the rise of his question. He tries to regulate his breaths—in through his nose, hold, out through his mouth—but it feels like he’s not getting enough oxygen, which makes him panic even more.

“Someone with a fucking migraine, dickhead,” the voice says. “So keep the lights off and shut the hell up.”

(or: Nolan Patrick, Hotel X Ghost)

why i love it: i’m usually not super into ghost fics, both the spooky kind and the nonspooky kind, but this one is a rare exception. it’s charming and fun and tender and it’s got some of, in my opinion, the best characterization of tk and nolan in any fic. the way the author writes their dynamic and their dialogue is just unmatched

lets_make_this_moment_a_crime.mp3 by honeydripping

summary: Travis meets Nolan at a Midtown show in 2002 when he punches Nolan in the face. He can’t help it, “Like A Movie” just goes off.

But he does feel guilty about it.

TK and Patty work at a bakery together. They go to punk shows to pass the time.

why i love it: idk if anyone asked for an early 2000s emo/punk/alt au but wow! i sure am glad it exists! really the vibes of this fic, as silly as that sounds, are absolutely unmatched. i love the structure with the music, the development of their relationship, and just everything about how the author wrote the setting (there’s this whole thing with tattoos in it that makes me feel absolutely insane)

you’re ripped at every edge by you’re a masterpiece by conformityissuicide

summary: “Ugh, look, this yoga teacher has it out for me, man. And I can’t go back there without at least having some of the basics down. I’ve got to win this battle.”

“Yoga isn’t really something you win at,” Hartsy starts.

Travis cuts him off, “You can win at anything if you try hard enough.”

+++

OR that time Nolan's a grumpy yoga teacher and Travis realizes he wants to bone him and prove him wrong about Travis' non-existent yoga abilities.

why i love it: listen, if you want tknp, at least one of them has to be an idiot, and this tk absolutely captures the obliviousness i love to see in him in fic. it’s such a great characterization of them both and such a great concept (and even better execution)

you form a terror pack (and i’m aware of that) by dalmatienne

summary: “Can I help you?” TK snarks, both eyebrows hiked up in a way that has earned her many elbow checks to the ribs.

The chick looks down her nose, long thick eyelashes fluttering. Red-bitten lips part to blow a florid pink bubble and TK can smell the chemical sweetness when it pops.

“Yeah,” she says in this monotonous voice that seems almost at odds with her bubble gum and neon skates. She jams her stopper into TK’s thigh again, literally inches away from where it’d really hurt. “Tie ‘em.”

why i love it: to be honest, i generally don’t read rule 63 within hrpf, but this one is just absolutely knocks it out of the park. the concept (i fuckin’ love roller derby), the characterization of nolan, the pacing, the rituals, the tone of the entire fic, it’s just all around a perfect read from start to finish

thrills and grills by bitter_leaf

summary: Travis can’t even begin to wonder what he did in a previous life to incur the wrath of this fucking cook. Travis thinks he’s a nice person, doesn’t conduct himself in any way that could be considered particularly dickish, and unless this guy has some sort of issue with hockey bros or people from the boonies, he’s not sure how he started shit without even knowing.

Patty has a vendetta. Travis just wants to eat his eggs in peace.

why i love it: honestly this is the enemies to lovers fic i’ve been waiting for. i remember seeing the reddit post when it first went viral and thinking it would make such a great fic premise, so stumbling across this one was just so wonderful. super engaging and fun and so hilarious to read!

nothing but room for you by fightingfuries

summary: When his agent tells him he’s going to be traded to the Devils, Nolan isn't sure how he feels about it. Might be easier if he was going somewhere farther away, like California or fucking Florida. Somewhere sun-soaked and foreign. Someplace so different from Philadelphia that he can forget he ever played for the Flyers, forget everything that happened there.

Or Nolan fucks up, gets traded, gets his shit together and falls in love. Not necessarily in that order.

why i love it: i cannot stress to you how much i love trade fics, and this one is one of my absolute favorites. the trade to the devils-so close to philly, still, but there’s more to distance than physical miles-was such an excellent choice and the split timeline adds so much to the narrative, and the emotions are real and messy and complicated in the best way

a couple of runaways (i’m glad you stayed) by overturnedgoal

summary: The person in the video he’s watching is super annoying. Some obnoxious holier than thou granola type who keeps talking about their environmental impact as if they aren’t driving a gas guzzler around, but the basic idea of living in a van, driving around wherever, camping all the time, just going hiking and swimming and seeing the whole country? It sounds pretty dope, honestly.

why i love it: i like to watch tours and conversions of vans/buses into tiny homes as a self soothing method, and this fic has the same impact that watching those do. it’s such a fun concept, and it’s so fuckin’ soft, and the dialouge between tk and nolan is just *chef’s kiss*

all candor and style in the crook of your smile by p3trichor

summary: It’s a photo of Nolan on his knees with someones’ fingers in his mouth, lips slick with spit. Travis flicks by it almost too fast and he’s only got seconds to decide if he wants to screenshot it, if he wants to just give up the ghost right then and there. Except Travis’s phone freezes momentarily and then the group refreshes, sidcros87, Bert59 and 14 others took a screenshot!

It’s gone before Travis even has time to process it and he already wasted his replay of the day on a stupid video of a stupid fish that Hayes caught.

Can you send me that screenshot Travis texts Bertuzzi before he can overthink it, his dick already stirring in his sweats. Tuzzi sends back the cry-laughing emoji and then the screenshot before Travis can be too annoyed at him.

Or, Nolan is being weird about Travis's break-up and TK is maybe not straight.

why i love it: i genuinely don’t think i have words for the amount i love this fic. it took me forever to actually read, but it’s absolutely one of my favorite fics, and it’s an absolutely riot to read. carter’s meddling and the presence of tyler bertuzzi both make it extra fun, in my humble opinion

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mothandpidgeon · 4 years ago

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The One That Got Away -- Part 2

Part 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Dave York x F Reader

Words: 3495

Rating: E 18+!

Warnings: Dave York, violence, guns, masturbation, fingering, choking, shoe kink, slapping, spanking, unprotected p in v sex

Summary: Five years ago, before you cut and run, you had one last job with Dave. And one final name on your list.

a/n: I had no plans of expanding on this (Part 1 was written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday picture prompt) but once again, this took a life of its own. Thanks as always @pascalslittlebrat for giving this the green light!

MACAU, 5 YEARS AGO

There were three things you knew.

First, the target was some Eastern European oligarch named Stanislav. He liked women so Dave had tapped you for this gig. You would deal with the target up close and personal.

Second, Stanislav knew he had a lot of enemies so he brought a lot of friends with him. No matter where he went, there were armed guards, staff, friends who were also rich or powerful or corrupt. It was likely you would have to deal with some of them too.

Third, after you’d killed Stanislav, gotten past his posse, out of the casino, and back to the safe house, Dave was going to make you cum at least four times.

You and Dave had a good thing going. He was meticulous and thorough in his work but you discovered that wasn’t where those qualities ended.

He’d looked you up and down before you arrived at the penthouse suite where Stanislav was hosting some party. You were wearing something that hugged your curves and a wig, high heels and make up. You knew Dave would allow himself exactly two minutes to think about what he’d do to you when this was all over, all the ways he’d have you, and then he’d switch his mind off to focus on the mission at hand.

Between your outfit and the observant security detail, it had been decided that it would be wise to go in unarmed. Less of a chance od tipping anyone off before the two of you got through the door.

You split from Dave as soon as you got in and it didn’t take you long to get to chatting with Stanislav. Your fingertips touched his wrist, you bit down on your bottom lip, you let him whisper into your ear. Dave kept an eye on the situation from across the room.

It wasn’t difficult to slip the drugs into your target’s glass. And it didn’t take much convincing to get him to invite you to a more private place once he’d drunk it down. In less than five minutes, he’d be dead. Until then, you’d let him paw at you. What a way to go.

Right on schedule, Stanislav was gasping, terror in his eyes, clutching at his chest. He sunk to his knees, grasping at the air, pulling at his collar. His hand slid inside his shirt and you saw him yanking on the chain around his neck. Shit. He was wearing a panic button. Of course he was.

Your heart started pounding. Within seconds one of his goons was bursting in, gun drawn.

“Something’s wrong with him!” you cried, covering your mouth with your hand.

He rushed to Stanislav’s side. You took off your shoe, gripped it around the middle, and thrust the heel into the body guard’s eye with force, twisting his wrist with your other hand. He cried out and you came again with the shank of your pump over and over until he dropped his weapon, his face a mess of blood. Poor bastard. You used his gun to put a bullet in him just as one of his friends was charging in.

His weapon was pointed right at you and you whipped around to fire but he jerked forward and fell to the floor. Dave was behind him with a gun he must have lifted off of another unfortunate guard, his eyes looking wild. You wiped your bloody shoe on the dead guard’s coat and slid it back onto your foot.

“Thanks,” you managed as you skirted past Dave.

You had enough knowledge of the suite to get to the exit before more of Stanislav’s men arrived. Dave was right behind you as you went into the hall, both trying to keep your pace casual. As soon as you hit the stairwell you pulled off the wig and shook out your hair. Dave put his jacket over your shoulders and rolled up his sleeves. He had a pair of glasses in his pocket. These weren’t the best disguises but they didn’t have to get you far. You ditched the wig in a trash can once you’d gone down a few floors, out to the landing, and then caught the elevator.

As you snaked your way through the casino floor, you tucked your face into Dave’s neck, doing your best drunk girl wobble. His arm curved around your back, guiding you towards the exit. And soon you were home free.

Now that your work was done, all that was left was your adrenaline. You were ready to let it out and you knew Dave was too because this had become your little routine.

The first time it had happened, you had barely finished a job. Dave cornered you in the elevator, your heart still racing, gun still clutched in your fingers. He’d nudged his knee between your legs and pressed his mouth against yours. You knew he was married but you didn’t stop him. You’d wanted him the same way he’d wanted you. And you’d just killed five people. That kind of made things like fidelity and sisterhood seem unimportant.

By now, though, things were slow and careful, controlled. You and Dave weren’t pouncing on each other but he would nod his head for you to follow him to his bed once you were back at the safe house.

“Take that dress off for me, baby,” he said. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs open so you could stand between them. You turned around allowing him to unzip you and you stepped out of your dress.

“You can leave those on,” he said when you went to kick off your heels. You grinned.

Dave’s dark eyes took you in and he ran his fingertips under the strap of your bra to loose it from your shoulder. He repeated the motion on the other side, his hand barely grazing your skin. It gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him but you liked it when he unwrapped you like a present.

“Take off your shirt,” you told him, running a finger along his chin.

You liked it when the corner of his mouth twitched into a wicked smile.

“Yes ma’am,” he said. You bit down on your lip. He took his time unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his skin. He was in good shape considering his age but you liked the soft edges around his body.

Dave pulled you in to nuzzle at your breasts as he unhooked your bra and you slid your palms over his broad, smooth shoulders. He rolled one of your hard nipples between his teeth and you moaned.

“That’s what I want to hear,” he growled.

He spun you around, tracing his hand around the curve of your ass down between your legs. You were already so wet that he could feel it through your panties. Dave peeled them down your hips and then sat you in front of him between his legs. He held you against his chest, one hand pushing your thighs apart so he could stroke you. You could already feel yourself pulsing as you swooned under his touch.

You heard him undo his belt with his other hand and he held his palm open in front of your lips. “Spit,” he demanded.

You could feel him behind you pulling at himself with his wet hand in time as he touched you. Dave rubbed you gently, teasing at the spot that you liked the best. He knew that it made you lose your mind, slow and careful winding you up like a toy.

“I can’t wait to get into this pussy,” he breathed into your ear.

When you bucked against him, he let go of himself and put his hand around your throat, sticky with spit and precum. Dave gripped tight. You trusted him and you had signals in case he got too rough but, as much as you enjoyed his careful touch, you liked it when things went a little too far. There was something that thrilled you as Dave squeezed and your vision went hazy. You knew he was capable of going all the way, and not in a theoretical sense. He’d killed people with his hands around their throat.

“That’s right,” he rasped and as you hit your high he let go and you gasped and shook against him.

He continued to swirl his fingers over you until you were writhing and you wrenched his wrist away.

“I think you can do that again,” Dave said.

He slid his palm over your wet lips, the heel of his hand rocking over your already overwhelmed clit. You moaned when his middle finger went inside of you.

He worked at you like this, heat twisting once again in your belly. Dave was holding you close, his weeping cock pressed against the small of your back. His thick finger seemed to double the sensation between your legs.

This time when you came, Dave bit at your neck, grunting. Your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Turn around,” he instructed.

“Can’t I get a minute to catch my breath?” you complained, still drunk on the bliss spreading over your body.

He set you on your feet and you turned, finally able to admire his ripe length. You set your foot on the bed between his legs. You’d noticed a while back that Dave had a thing for heels. So much so that you started packing them in your bag even when the job required something more practical.

Dave traced his hand down your shin and slid them over your shoe, his fingers still slick with you. As he smudged your arousal onto the leather he let out a hum and you saw his cock twitch. You moved closer, the toe of your pump just barely grazing his shaft from base to tip. There were still hints of dried blood on the heel which somehow disgusted and aroused you at the same time. Dave’s eyes drifted shut.

There was something else Dave liked but wouldn’t admit to. With an open palm, you slapped him across the face. His eyes shot open, shaken from his reverie. He snatched your wrist, tight, his gaze darkening from desire to danger.

“You’re gonna fucking get it,” he said with a sinister smirk.

He wrestled you face down onto the bed and then clamped your ankle in his hand, sliding you across the sheets until your lower body hung over the side.

“I make you cum and that’s the thanks I get?”

His hand connected with your ass. You knew it was coming but still you cried out.

“Quiet,” he demanded.

He pulled you up by your hair, the sting delicious, and put his fingers in your mouth until you were practically gagging. You loved getting Dave riled up like this.

You weren’t so introspective that you thought about why you and Dave treated each other this way. You were sure he didn’t slap his wife around in the bedroom and you would kill any man that did half of the shit that made you wet for dave. Was it some kind of penance? You both knew you didn’t deserve soft and sensual. It might have just been that your senses were completely dulled. After years on the job, it took an awful lot to make you feel anything. Or possibly it was just the release. How else were you supposed to forget about the things you’d done?

Dave pushed into you and you arched your back. He grabbed your hips hard enough that you knew you’d have bruises where his fingers dug in but he stayed motionless within you.

“Lay still,” he said when you wiggled your hips around him earning you another slap on the ass.

It was torment, his thick cock sheathed in you when you wanted more. You wanted him to drive you out of your senses. Suddenly, Dave pulled back and then snapped his hips against you. He thrust into you relentlessly. The wet noises that came between the two of you were making you feral.

You felt the tension pool again moaning as his hands travelled up to massage your breast and then wrap around your shoulders for leverage so you were feeling every inch of him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he grunted.

You felt like you were already close to hitting another peak.

“Say it,” Dave demanded.

That made you fall apart and you buried your face in the mattress to muffle your moans.

“You liked that, huh?” Dave said, his hips still moving without slowing. “Turn over I want to look at that pretty face when I cum.”

You were still shuddering as you laid on your back. Dave kissed you with urgency, his fingers massaging between your legs to make you gasp. He slid into you easily with a groan.

Dave bent your leg and gripped his hand around your shoe once again and took up his pace.

This was your favorite part, watching this man who was so disciplined, so steady, shudder and break inside of you. He lost the rhythm of his hips, his brow furrowed, and he made noises you knew he couldn’t control. He pulled out and spilled all over your shin and the top of your foot and watched his cum drip down to your shoe as his chest heaved.

You sat up on your elbows enjoying the expression on his face where he went blank, his mind completely destroyed.

He kissed you again, hard, his teeth raking your bottom lip.

“Get in the shower. I’m not done with you,” he breathed.

When you were both spent, your bodies practically giving out, you collected your clothes and you left. You and Dave never slept together. You didn’t need him for that.

/ / / / / / / / /

When the job in Macau was over and you’d gone home, you were exhausted. Every job was the same cycle of emotions. Excitement, the thrill of the hunt, the anticipation as you held your breath and fingered the trigger. It was quickly followed by darkness, self-loathing. You wished you could erase it all from your memory. But it was a living so you pushed it down and got back to work. That’s where you were, at the bottom of the roller coaster, when you went to pick up your next gig, to see which sorry son of a bitch was going to eat it next.

You’d get a call on your burner with a location to meet your contact somewhere where you wouldn’t draw attention– a park bench, a busy coffee shop. Today you were meeting him at a bus stop across town. He was already sitting patiently and he didn’t make eye contact with you. This was how it worked, you both went by first names that were probably fake, you tried not to look at one another, you kept it short and clean.

He slid you an envelope of cash which you threw into your bag. The rest of the money would be wired into an account when the job was done. Next came a file with a name and some information to get you started along with a picture. Usually you just threw that into your bag, too, but you were alone in the bus shelter so you cracked open the folder.

The person in the photograph you had only seen once but you recognized them immediately. You stopped breathing.

“What is this?” you asked.

“It’s a job.”

You stared at the photo. It was like all of the others, the subject unaware that they were being watched. The woman was good looking with dark hair in soft curls over her shoulders, beautiful bronze skin. It looked like she was on her way to work, wearing a neat blouse and dress pants. It put a knot in your stomach.

“Who’s job is it?” you asked.

“What’s it to you?” he replied and you could hear the impatience in his voice. “Do I need to tell the client there’s a problem?”

You frowned and shoved the file into your bag on top of the envelope.

“Nope. We’re good,” you said and you walked away.

You felt dirty. You wanted to go home and climb into the shower. It wouldn’t change the fact that you’d just accepted the job of killing Carol York.

Your bag sat at the center of the kitchen table for hours like it had been contaminated. You stared at it, leaning against the counter and holding onto a cup of coffee you felt too nauseated to put to your lips.

You’d never felt all that shitty about fucking her husband. Sure, somewhere deep down where your humanity still resided, there was a voice that told you how despicable it was. It was bad enough that Dave surely lied about what he did for work. But he was a big boy, you told your conscience. What he did and what he said to her were outside of your control.

You’d certainly never wished any ill on the poor woman. You weren’t jealous, you didn’t hate her. Whatever you and Dave had going on, it was like your work– it didn’t exist outside of those moments when you were on a job.

What had Carol York ever done to anyone? Maybe she forgot to sign a permission slip for a school trip or she’d gossiped about someone in her office. This hit wasn’t about her. It was to get to Dave. That’s what happened, you pissed off the wrong person and you found yourself in a file. But after all of the shit he’d put her through, whether she knew about it or not, it seemed unfair that his wife should have to pay for what he’d done.

You finally worked up the nerve to take the file out of your bag. You looked at it again, at the picture of Carol. You could see why Dave had married her, how the two of them would fit together in a family portrait.

You’d killed a lot of people without a second thought and you’d done it in all types of ways. You’d heard them struggle and beg. You’d seen the look in their eye as they realized that they were about to die, the fear and then the resignation and then acceptance. And you’d seen the light go out of them. It was simple once you got over the first few kills. But you took no pleasure in it.

Maybe that was what had drawn you and Dave together. Killing chipped away a part of you that other people couldn’t understand. It wasn’t like you could build it back by being with him but it was at least a good distraction, a way to remind yourself that you were human and living. A way to forget that actions had consequences. There was no good or bad in this game.

But that was just something you told yourself. There were people who didn’t deserve to be at the other end of your gun. Carol was one of them.

You went over to the stove and turned on one of the burners. You carefully dangled the corner of the photograph over the blue flame until it caught and you watched it curl and burn until her whole face had been engulfed and turned to black ash. When the flames licked close to your fingers you dropped the last of it into the sink.

You weren’t going to kill Carol York. You couldn’t do that to her. You couldn’t do that to Dave either.

You’d thought about getting out of the game before. Everyone broke eventually. But it was impossible to quit. There were two ways out of this life and both of them were ending yours. For some reason seeing Carol’s face in your file was what pushed you over the edge. Most likely, if you didn’t kill her someone else would. But you couldn’t.

You gave yourself three days to plan so you didn’t have time to chicken out and change your mind. You bought fashion glasses with clear plastic lenses at the mall. You got hair dye. You collected the cash you had on hand including the new envelope that had come with Carol’s file. It was enough to get you going for a good while. You already had passports and IDs with your face and somebody else’s name. You had to be prepared in this business.

You didn’t tell Dave. You didn’t warn him or say goodbye. You were doing him enough of a favor and he ought to be grateful for that.

You went to the bus depot, paid cash for a Greyhound ticket heading out of state, and just like that you were gone.

-----

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#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york pit #dave york fic

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shoichee · 4 years ago

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Omgomg, congratsss on 200!!! You deserve all of ittt💕 could I have 15 for akashi pleasee? Thank youu!!

HI ANONIE, I’m flattered that you think that I have 200 REEEE but it’s actually just a 100 milestone hahahaha;; hope you’re lurking around on my blog rn and sorry it took a while, but without further ado.... i present to you

Akashi x Reader

15. “Stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not”

Word Count: 2696

prompt list here

Note: we need more boku-akashi, i repeat, we need more SCARY AKASHI (SHAMELESS plug of another boku-akashi fic i did here)

»»—————　☼　—————««

Everything changed after that violent rainstorm that day.

You did not know what happened in Teiko’s gymnasium that practice, but no matter how much you try to probe Momoi, Murasakibara, and even Kuroko about it on separate occasions, none of them seemed willing to divulge anything to you. It seems like everyone suddenly became a different person in just a single day, and you are left completely in the dark, grasping for nothing and having no clue what to do.

“H-haha…” Momoi nervously stammered. “Honestly, I think it was just a really bad day for everyone… I’m just concerned for Dai-chan…” And with that, you remember her dashing away to the stairs to cut the conversation short. You wonder what she meant about Aomine.

“Hnn,” Murasakibara hummed dismissively. “Practice is just getting annoying.” He never said anything more, and his silence spoke louder than words to you as he stared down at you with his peripheral vision: “leave now.” And so you reluctantly leave, your mind swirling with even more questions than you had prior.

“Ah…” Kuroko said. “Mm, well, I worry for our team… is all, but please don’t worry about us too much, (y/n)-san.”

“Kuroko?” you called out, deciding to drop the topic seeing his slight discomfort.

“Yes?”

“Do you know where Seijuro is?”

He flickered his gaze to the floor for a quick second before he returned his eyes to you.

“... I don’t know.”

“That can’t be helped,” you reassured him. “I’ll look for him myself. Thanks, Kuroko!” As you ran outside to head towards the gym, Kuroko stretched out his arm in a feeble attempt to stop you, but his fingers barely grazed your hair and ended up clasping air as he watched you with dread at the inevitable harsh truth you were about to encounter.

After all, who had the heart to tell you that Akashi Seijuro wasn’t as he seemed this entire time?

Gasping for air as you creak the bulky doors open, you immediately notice the lack of lights turned on, with only the evening sunlight filtering through the foggy windows from the 2nd floor giving the gym its light source. Amidst the stretched shadows on the court, only Midorima stands alone with his basketballs, shooting constant half-court shots in complete silence. Akashi was nowhere to be found.

Noticing your presence, Midorima turns around irritated, ready to berate the offender who interrupted his practice before he registers that it was just you. He sighs and puts the basketballs back into their storage basket before he gives you his full attention.

“I’m assuming you are here for Akashi,” he says, pushing up his glasses that had been slowly sliding down his nose from the sweat.

“Yeah—”

“He’s not here, nanodayo. He already left a while ago. I’ve been given charge of locking up the gym for the night.”

“Is… that so?” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I guess it can’t be helped, right? So, aha… I’ll see you tomorrow practice then?” Midorima only gives you a firm nod before he turns around to start mopping up the gym floors. Not wanting to partake in the awkward, distant silence between the two of you, you promptly left the gym, taking extra care to close the doors quietly to not disturb the greenhead inside.

That was… odd, to say the least. Akashi has always waited for you to walk you home together. It wasn’t that he had to, but he’s always insisted on walking you out of concern for your safety and gently teasing you that he wanted to spend a little more time with you. It was simply a small custom you two shared over the year you were together. Even if he couldn’t make it, he would always let you know beforehand either personally or through calls and texts.

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re not quite sure why.

———

During times like these were when you really hated the fact that Akashi was in a different class than you. Your mind constantly drifts back to last night when you dialed him a few times to have a casual talk with him but received nothing but empty buzzes on his end. Figuring he was very busy, you decided to just go about your own schedules and send him a small text to him before you went to bed.

Seiji, I hope you’re not over-exerting yourself. I have many things to talk to you about, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Goodnight!

But that morning, you checked your phone to find that there wasn’t a single notification from him. Opening the messages, you blankly stared at “Seen.” underneath your last text. And it hurt.

Even now, you still feel that you’re overreacting and jumping to conclusions way too fast over something so trivial. But he’s always made a point to communicate with each other, and if he was too tired or if he wanted to be left alone, he would’ve told you clearly. You have no one to confide in about your turmoil; you weren’t very close with the other “Generation of Miracles” and no one else knows Akashi better than them. It wasn’t a huge deal at all, yet why do you feel so afraid of what’s to come?

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re denying the possible reasons why.

“(y/n)-cchi?” Kise noticed you walking to no particular destination. “What are you doing here?” When you tell him that you’re looking for Akashi, Kise gives a strained smile as he pats your head in an almost consoling manner. “Haven’t seen the captain since practice two days ago.”

“Two days ago? Kise, did you forget there was practice yesterday?”

“Had a photoshoot, couldn’t make it,” he shrugs. “Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be punished if I choose to ditch anyways.”

“Ditch?”

“Yep~ as long as we win our games, he doesn’t have a problem.”

“That… can’t be right.”

“Who knows what he’s thinking?” he sighs. “Geez, but he can really be scary, I don’t know how you’re dating him.” Kise turns to the vending machine behind him to slot in two coins for a soda. “Do you want one too?”

“Um, it’s okay,” you said, more fixated on his previous words. “Seijuro isn’t scary… he isn’t like that.” Kise turns around to face you again with a can in his hand, and he sighs before he tousles his own hair.

“I guess you know him better than I do, so maybe he was just having a bad day,” he says. “If you’re still looking for him try one of the empty classrooms, I’m sure he’s off playing some shogi by himself or with Midorimacchi.”

So here you are, scouring the hallways for all the empty rooms on all the floors, trying to find the redhead. When you find Midorima walking towards your direction in the hallway instead, you briskly walk to him to intercept his path.

“Sorry to bother you, Midorima-san,” you hurriedly say. “I know it’s been annoying to hear this but…” You pause, and Midorima instantly knew what you were going to inquire about.

“He’s down the hall to your left. Take the stairs and go straight ahead.” When you thank him profusely and start to head off, Midorima is still watching you from where he was standing.

“(y/n)-san.” At the call of your name, you stop to turn back to face Midorima from the end of the hallway. “Your sign is at the lowest of the luck rankings according to the Oha Asa today. Your lucky item is a dictionary, but I can only advise you to be careful.” You only answer him with an exasperated smile at his antics before you continue on your way.

As you rush to the room Midorima described about, you think of how you are going to confront Akashi. Were you going to chastise him for yesterday? Give him the biggest hug? Pout at him about how you miss him? Ask about his day? You shake your head and decide to just focus on looking for him first before anything else.

You wonder why he was here in the secluded part of the building. Did he often come here prior to today? You take a deep breath and sigh in relief in seeing your boyfriend through the door.

Smiling, you let yourself in before closing the door wordlessly.

“Seiji—”

“I’ve been expecting you, (y/n).” You freeze at the sheer coldness of his voice. There he was, back to you as he languidly sat on a chair with a knee propped up. He continues to clink his shogi pieces around the board as if your presence didn’t warrant his full attention. But there was no mistaking that it was, in fact, Akashi. Only he would have his uniform blazer so free of wrinkles and stains.

“Seiji… what’s wrong?” You approach him worryingly, extending your hand to him as you walk closer. But as you reach within hand’s grasp, your gut is screaming for you to stop and turn back, to run far, far away and never look back. You ignore your body. You know you’re just being overly antsy and jumpy from recent overthinking. “You were nowhere to be found at all yesterday, and I just… was so worried—and you didn’t even reply to me at all!”

“Those things are unnecessary. The only thing that matters is victory. Surely you know this, (y/n)?” Your hand freezes and drops to your side. He drops his propped leg from his chair before he turns his head to the side to eye your shocked expression. “Why do you look at me as such?”

“Seijuro,” you whisper. “What’s… what’s gotten into you? What happened at practice that day? Everyone’s been acting weird, and I don’t know why!...”

He moves his gaze back to his shogi pieces and starts toying with the wooden chips. “That day was when I realized that I was absolutely naive and foolish. Order and absoluteness cannot be contested and questioned. The winners can never be denied… That has always been the policy of Teiko’s basketball team. I have realized that in order to accommodate this, I must become absolute and ensure that this team will continue to contribute to its legacy. I am certain the others must have come to this conclusion as well.”

“Seriously, Seijuro,” you plead. “Talk to me, if there’s something troubling you, from basketball to your personal life, I’ll be there for you… so please… please don’t be so cold to me.”

“Me? Akashi Seijuro troubled by such trivial matters? Your assumptions are arrogant but amusing nonetheless.” Akashi stands up from his chair, leaving his shogi pieces unattended on the desk. He slowly strolls to you, his eyes boring holes through you from the unnerving intensity they exuded. You slowly back up instinctively, until your back hits the door. Akashi stops to stand a few feet in front of you, but his eye contact continues to be relentless in intensity. “Though, I must admit, there is one thing I’ve been pondering about, so you are correct that I do have something in mind.”

“W-what is it?...” You don’t know what else to say. What do you say to a stranger who has the physical appearance of your boyfriend? Can someone change that much in just a single day? This Akashi Seijuro… was now only the empty shell of the Seijuro you knew and loved for some time.

“It seems that in my naivete, I had decided to date someone like you, but I wondered what would happen if I told you about all these inevitable changes I will bring to ensure absoluteness. I wonder if you’re even essential in helping future victories come to fruition.”

“What are you trying to say?...” you say, your voice slightly peaking at the end. You wring your hands together in anxiousness as you try to hold back volatile emotions from becoming apparent on your face. Akashi continues to observe you with an impassive poker face. “I don’t… I don’t understand!... I’m the ‘trouble’ that’s on your mind?...”

Your heart feels unbelievably heavy and you’re afraid of the possible reasons why.

“Seijuro,” you start sniffling, cursing your emotional dams for cracking so easily. “You’re always like this, shouldering all the burdens of being president, captain, and top student… you always told me not to worry, yet you always insist on helping me out… could you just… stop pretending you’re okay, cause I know you’re not!?” You end your sentence in a frustrated shout, cheeks feeling hotter as you feel more tears sliding down.

Akashi flinches at your words and parts his mouth in mild surprise, but soon enough, he returns to his composed self, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It is clear that we are both at an impasse. You do not agree with me, and that is fine. However, you are not necessary in what I need to achieve anyways. Keeping you around will only hold me back.”

“N-no… are you saying that…”

“From now on, we are strangers, (y/n). This is a farewell.”

“S-Seijuro, wait! You can’t just decide for the both of us like that!” You step forward and try to reach for him in desperation, but before you can react, Akashi slaps your hand away and stares down at your pitiful state.

“Do not touch me so casually,” he coldly says. “And do not address me like that ever again. Know your place.” With that, he holds his head high as he promptly exits the room without sparing you a glance, leaving you and his shogi set behind.

“S-S-eiji…” you softly wail. You sink your body into a squat as you struggle to hold back unadulterated tears with your arms. “Wh-why? Why? Why, why, why?...” Every moment, every memory you shared with Akashi within the past year was nullified in just a span of a few minutes. Your life feels shattered right before your eyes as you can feel its fragments slipping through your fingers still, and it hurts. It hurts so badly, and you don’t know how you can face the Generation of Miracles from this point on without breaking into sobs. They all reminded you of him too much. But you knew that if you avoided them, they wouldn’t care too much; after all, you only knew them through Akashi. Now that your connection to him was severed, there was truly no reason to speak with them anymore.

You sniffle and stand up after several more minutes of quiet agony, and you look over to the desk where Akashi’s shogi pieces are. You bite your lip, trying to stop the fresh tears from coming. You give a shuddering exhale before you stretch out your hand, hesitating before you gingerly pluck a piece off the shogi board. If you couldn’t salvage the broken pieces from your relationship, perhaps this piece can be a substitute for all those fragments. Thumbing through the woodwork, you can still feel the remnants of his warmth moments before. At least this way, you still have a piece of him with you, even if you know you can no longer be by his side anymore, much less talk to him.

You debate with yourself to try to confide about this with someone from the Generation of Miracles, but as your eyes spot them, you can’t help but notice the cold and distant gazes they embody, and it only reminds you of what Akashi has become. For the rest of your Teiko years, you dutifully avoid having as many interactions as you can with them, especially when Kuroko inquires about your relationship with Akashi on a few occasions.

The next time you would see Akashi in close proximity is when you decide to come to watch the Winter Cup finals with a classmate friend, who insists you to come watch once they hear that you used to attend Teiko.

When you lay eyes on him again, your heart feels unbelievably heavy once again, even more so with Akashi’s shogi piece sitting in the pocket of your uniform button-up shirt.

#kuroko no basket #knb #knb fic #knb fics #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi scenarios #teiko #teiko middle school #100 followers #100 follower milestone #knb scenarios #anon #bokushi #boku akashi

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spectres-fulcrum · 2 years ago

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Kenobi episode 5 thoughts(I have so many):

I literally don't know where to start so Garel mention! That's the other planet in the Lothal system and Lyste's home planet! We love Rebels references(But also ouch) on this blog!

Tala :( She had really grown on me. My heart breaks for what she went through but I'm proud she went through it and said no. This isn't right. Also the droid. :(

Obi-Wan seemingly disassociate after watching Tala commit sacrifice herself reminded me he's been away from violence from a decade and it must've been SO HARD to be back there

The moment when he picked up the Jedi cloak was so important. It was soft and familiar and it seemed to give him courage.

All Lola had was a restraining bolt? Leia was literally like, oh here, let me fix that. And it was fixed. Like that's so easily fixed especially if it's a child's toy, which is constantly played with and touched.

QUIZZY IS BACK! In his Rupert Friend form *sigh* but he's alive and well. Rebels timeline is saved thank Dave Filoni's hat.

Reva. the youngling. I like that she didn't turn good. I really did. And I like that she's in the lion's den trying to kill Vader. Like I didn't expect her sole motive was to try to kill Vader. I thought she was truly trying to please him.

I can accept neutral Reva much better than evil!Reva.

That said-that is not how you hunt Vader. Tarkin needed a whole team of hunters-and only he lived. And he had been hunting for 40 years. He nearly killed him. Reva?

Vader treated her like child's play. He didn't even draw his lightsaber. I actually really liked seeing that he was just so above it. He knew who Reva was-and what she wanted. That was my first thought. How did he not feel her hate long ago? He did, but was manipulating her.

The communicator message... UGH I cannot wait a week. I knew within a minute of it being dropped that SOMEONE would see it. But Vader seeing it would break the series. Reva is good. Reva knows Owen.

I feel like that leaves one thing. The flashbacks(Which I knew about going in from scrolling through a couple things this morning).

They were so good! I don't care if they're 20 years older, I'm so glad it was Hayden and Ewan. And Anakin looking out at Padme's apartment building. It was great.

Okay I actually want to make two points in greater details so I'm gonna post this/maybe speed watch some of the Citadel arc/then make another post or two.

Overall VERY good episode. By far best episode of the series. I can't believe it ends next week.

#Kenobi spoilers #I fist pumped seeing Quizzy alive lol #And got happy at the Garel moment #Mention #It was all so good

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flapperdame16 · 3 years ago

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The Queen by Matthew Dennison Book Review!

(image: Head of Zeus Publishing)

Anyone who knows even a little inkling about me will know how much of a supporter I am of The Queen and the British Royal family. Since my childhood, I've been fascinated with Queen Elizabeth, even telling my Mom as young as age three (in the late 90s) I wanted to, "visit a place with a Queen".

At that age I didn't know the Queen by name, but the image I had inside my head was definitely of Elizabeth. A woman with short white hair wearing a crown was what the image of a, "Queen" , was to me. Fast forward to late 2010, just before William and Kate's engagement, and I became a full blown Royal watcher. Since I have been 14, I collect magazines, make an effort to watch video appearances, see documentaries, and follow many Monarchy devoted blogs and social media accounts to keep up with what is happening within "the fold". I watch The Crown every season on its release date (or close to its release date), and know all the latest buzz, but bizarrely, I never have sat down to read a full life biography of Queen Elizabeth. I have magazines, and coffee table books about her, but never chose out a biography. It's so difficult to choose a good one in a sea full of books, and for that, I am so thrilled I got the opportunity to read distinguished royal author Matthew Dennison's (he has written three other royal biographies) newest book simply and elegantly titled: The Queen. What makes Dennison's book stand out against the rest is firstly it's one of the first books to be published about the Queen after the death of Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh. It looks at their relationship throughout its entirety, giving a fresh examination on the longest royal marriage in history. It was comforting to be reassured how strong the bond between Philip and Elizabeth was. Sure they had their rough patches in their relationship, and nasty rumors along the way, (particularly in the late 50s), but I'd venture to say any marriage, and relationship that was established for 73 years does. It's not so much the bumps in the road they had, it was how they were able to navigate and work through them that counts. It's important to remember Philip and Elizabeth fought for their love, at the time of their marriage with anti-German sentiment, and they endured right up to Philip's death. Its inspiring, especially in the time we live in now. Secondly, I will mention this book does not deviate on tangents about others, its focus is always centered on Elizabeth. Throughout her long reign, many players both personally and professionally have crossed paths with HM; prime ministers, daughters-in-law, members of staff, and a whole bunch of others. Rather than devoting entire paragraphs to other players such as Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Princess Diana, HM The Queen Mother, or Private Secretary Martin Charteris, Dennsion gives us info about them on a need to know basis in relation to their relation to Queen Elizabeth. This keeps the writing focused with a strong flow in regards to the star subject. At the same time, it allows you to have basis of facts of certain players you may not know much about. During my own reading, to have a background context of the Prime Ministers was certainly a highlight for me, as I personally don't know much about the British Parliament and the people in it! Moreover, I want to point out how fascinating it was to read an in depth analysis of HM's childhood and young adult life before becoming Queen, as it's really the "least" documented part of her life. As with Queen Victoria many people only see Elizabeth as, "The old lady Queen", and it's sad many forget at one point she was a vibrant young women who reveled in being a 1950s military wife, and someone who grew up in a close knit household in a family unit of consisting of "we four" (herself, her parents, and sister, Margaret).

When she was born in 1926, Elizabeth was not in immediate line for the throne as her father Bertie (later George VI) was the second son of George V. David (later the abdicated, Edward VIII) was the oldest son and therefore, first in line. Elizabeth's childhood until the 1936 abdication (and the following Second World War) was spent as minor royalty, that only serious royal watchers in the 1920s/1930s would read about. Yet at the same time, she was the only "princess" at the time of her birth, and she was the only titled royal grandchild. Elizabeth had cousins who were daughter of her aunt, Princess Mary, Countess of Harewood, but those two sons were not HRHs. I learned just how fascinated people were with HM in her childhood, and it really drew parallels to how today people are fascinated with Princess Charlotte. From sparking name trends, to clothing trends, to making popular toys come en vogue, princess inspiration has always been in the public interest! Finally, I'd like to bring the to attention the fair criticism this book brings to Elizabeth's reign: it's no secret that no one is perfect. Elizabeth has had her fair share of political clashes, family problems and even scandals within her long reign. Its balanced in saying the longer one lives, the more events- both good and bad- you witness. The book is pretty nuanced when bringing up touchy topics such as the Princess Margaret and Group Captain Peter Townsend's romance, HM's parenting skills/ relationships with her children, the Aberfan disaster of 1966, and Princess Diana' death to name a few.

As in within the book, it's all about points of view and the facts. I'm delighted to say the book doesn't take sides when viewing these topics, rather gives enough info for the reader to form their own opinion. I must say, however, I particularly didn't care for the slightly snide remarks given towards Princess Diana- always calling her every move "revenge" towards the family. That rubbed me the wrong way, but as I said, it's all about perception.

Overall, this book was a really informative read that is not just a rehash of the same ol', same ol' you would read in any random biography of Queen Elizabeth. With the last chapter clocking in at page 506, it may seem like a long dung out read, but it goes by quickly once you start digging in. (Personally I spotted one error on page 403, it's William Arthur Philip Louis, not William Philip Arthur!)

What I personally took away from the read was The Queen is an enduring woman. She's witnessed hardships of war, family crisis, premature deaths, scandals, and even the covid-19 pandemic, yet she's always been there for her people, her family and her country. She's been able to navigate changing times and as The Crown actress Claire Foy has said in her 2017 Golden Globes acceptance speech, Elizabeth has been at "the center of the world" since 1953 when she ascended to the throne. I don't think I myself could do better if I were in her shoes, and all that's left to do now, I believe, is to appreciate her hard work and dedication. God save the Queen!

Above: My Copy of The Queen with (some of!) my other Royal books! :)

I'd like thank Hailey and the whole team at Kaye Publicity for sending me a copy of the book to read and review. The Queen by Matthew Dennison will be available to own on September 1, 2021 in the USA and is available worldwide online and in participating stores. Links are as follows, and check out my YouTube Review video HERE)

AMAZON USA (Hardcover)

Barnes and Noble

AMAZON UK (Hardcover)

The Queen Goodreads' page

Matthew Dennison Author page

The Queen (Head of Zeus Publishing page)

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