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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I had the worst Monday that could have ever existed. Onto Tuesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"I trust this should be amenable to your work," Mr. Laufeyson holds open the door along the east wall of his study. One you've never opened before though you're familiar with the space within. The library also opens into the hallway and keeps you busier than many of the other rooms. "When you should require it. I expect much of your work will keep you afoot."

You peer past him, his tall figure like a second shadow. You clutch your kit tight and nod. You didn't exactly bring the tools for this new role.

"I should have a blank ledger somewhere, oh and a pen of course," he advises, "given our new... arrangement, I would require a contact point."

You nod and tear your attention from the full shelves and luxurious velvet chaise. You won't get to enjoy those but they give the space a much more welcome feel than the rest of the house. You face Mr. Laufeyson as he keeps the door propped open with his foot. He slides out his phone as if it's a task.

"Never to worry, I wouldn't bother you much so long as you do your work adequately," he assures, "but in case of... emergency."

"Oh, erm," you sputter and reach into your hoodie pocket, revealing the tiny flip phone.

"Hm, vintage," he muses, "as you would."

He holds his phone, gesturing to it with his other hand. You teethe your lip before you recall the digits of your number. Your plan doesn't include a lot of talk minutes but he doesn't promise much of that. He keys them into his screen.

"You'll have mine," he taps his thumb and your phone chimes. "In case."

"Thanks, uh, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Mmmm," he hums again. "Suppose you would need some sort of proper device, a computer of sorts." He clucks and checks his watch, dropping his arm with a huff, "I've an important event shortly, I'll try to venture by the electronics shop before I return.”

You nod and fold your phone, slipping it away as you peek back into the library. He inhales deeply, "suppose you should begin. The list is on the writing desk.”

You accept the command easily. You’re even thankful for it. It gives you a proper reason to find distance. You go to the desk and look over the typed list. You don’t sit, hesitating as you wonder if it would seem lazy, maybe even presumptuous.

“Let me fetch that ledger,” he says before letting the door drift closed.

You run your finger over the top line. ‘Create a schedule’. Hmmm. You look over the bullets that fill the paper. You can only assume he refers to all of that. It’s straightforward, you can handle a schedule. It’s everything that comes after that gives you doubt.

“And you’ll have to review what my wife, ex that is, left in shambles,” Mr. Laufeyson interrupts as he pushes through again. “Her little folder is here. She was always fond of order, even though she left me in much less. This is what’s left of her handiwork,” he approaches coolly and sets down a plain fawn coloured ledger, a fountain pen, and a white folder with golden flowers on it.

“Thanks,” you eke out as his hands linger on the edges.

You sense his gaze, discerning and weighty. He leans forward slightly and you nearly take a step across as he points to the list. You follow the line of his arm and his extended finger.

“Another point to add, ‘acquire work attire’,” he instructs and turns his hand over, flippant flicking his finger in a gesture to your plain hoodie and worn gray denim. “I trust my pay should afford that necessity easily, however should you require a write-off, I suppose it could be argued as a professional expense.”

“Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson,” you frown in embarrassment, “I didn’t…” You look down at yourself, wanting to hide behind your arms.

“You wouldn’t think of it, just a maid,” he dismisses, “very well, I think you have more than enough to begin. I should be some hours.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you agree. He is correct, there is more than enough to keep you busy.

“I will review the schedule upon my return,” he affirms. “Should you require refreshment, you recall where to go.”

You nod and cautiously reach for the ledger, sliding it closer as he backs up. You slowly sit, hovering before you let yourself rest. He lingers by the door as you roll the pen aside and put the ledger and folder parallel. You open the former and line up the list inside the cover, resuming your perusal of the bullet points.

The door closes and you keep your attention to the paper. You don’t dare a glance up until you hear his muffled footfalls cross his study. You feel as if he’s waiting for you to make a mistake. You think you might be too.

🧹

A clunk sharply pierces the tenuous peace of the empty house. You hadn’t heard the door or his approach, not even right next door, not until the hefty thunk. You listen but keep your nose down.

You’re just about done with the schedule. Two cleans throughout the week to spread the duties evenly. The main floor on Mondays, and the upper on Thursday. You’ll be able to fit in an unexpected tidying between your other to-dos.

You flutter through the pretty white and gold folder. The embossed suede speaks of a sophisticated owner. You wonder why she would ever abandon it, though you assume, a separation may not inspire sentiment.

You turn over another note. This one about the gazebo. A blurb on a repair. You’ll have too go out and check to see if it was actually done, there’s no confirmation of the job. You stop to admire her loopy writing, as elegant as the folder.

The door opens without pretense. You sit up and wiggle the pen between your index and thumb. Mr. Laufeyson as a flat white box in his hand, along with a smaller one on top. He does not near you, instead place his lot on the square table by the window.

“Here,” he orders shortly.

You rise and leave the pen in the centre of the ledger. You cross to him as he moves the smaller box aside and unfolds the two smaller flaps from the large one. You can’t help but watch curiously.

“This should suffice,” he shimmies out the cardboard insert, revealing a sleek silver laptop, “hmm?”

He shifts it towards you and lets you look it over. You put your hands behind you to keep from touching. You lean in just a little.

“It looks nice, Mr. Laufeyson. Thank you.”

“For your work, of course. These days, it is a requirement. And this,” he takes the smaller box and offers it up, “a proper work phone. It is more professional. Any calls on my behalf, you will make on this. That relic you have won’t do much.”

“Uh, yes, Mr. Laufeyson, that’s really thoughtful.”

“Thoughtful? Practical. Company property, of course,” he insists, “another point to add. Set these up. They should be functioning by the end of the day. You’ll need them to keep up with the rest of your tasks.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. I will put it on the list.”

“Mm,” he circles around you, striding to the writing desk before you can react. You follow at a few paces, not wanting to crowd him. He takes the pen and uncaps it. He adds the bullet himself. “There you are.”

“Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson,” you recite again.

He snaps the lid on the pen and his lips twitch, not quite curving, “I’ll review,” he snatches up the open ledger, your schedule open to see. You almost rush forward. You meant to rewrite it before you handed it over. It has scribbles all over it. You won’t argue.

“Go on,” he steps around the desk, waving to the side dismissively.

You return to the table and gather the laptop and phone, along with the stray box. You bring them back to the writing desk and stay standing as you free the laptop from the insert. You let your eyes edge along the top of your vision as Mr. Laufeyson sits on the chaise and browses the ledger.

You refocus and investigate the cord buried in the box as a collection of booklets fall out. You sort through them and find the one in English. You start on the front page, reading over the different buttons and features. The diagram is especially helpful. You’ve never had a computer before, not that it belongs to you.

You squint as you read the precautions. Your mind flits back and forth between your current task and everything beyond. You would go to the library sometimes and spend an hour on the PC, and in school you did all your work in the resource room. This is much fancier than any of the boxy computers you’d used before.

It says you should plug it in and charge to full before booting. You unravel the cord and search for an outlet against the wall. There’s one not far. You hook up the cord to the port on the side of the slender laptop then trail it to the wall. The little light on the side glows yellow.

Then you take the little box. A phone. The flip phone was second-hand but this is shiny and new. You’re like a kid at Christmas, not that you got much for the holiday, even when you were younger.

You slide out the small device. Your hand is unused to it. It’s not clunky like your phone. It feels easy to drop even if it’s bigger than the flip. You peel off the plastic film around the border and across the screen.

You take out the booklet and read it as closely as the first. Same thing; charge before use. You don’t want to mess up any of this. You plug it in above the computer and place it on the closed lid. You carefully sit in the chair, careful not to jostle the cords.

You peek up and find Mr. Laufeyson looking at you over the top of the ledger. His green eyes gleam and flick back down to the page. You hope he doesn’t see how clueless you are. This stuff that’s all so normal to everyone else is new to you. A job alone is a novelty still.

“You may ask it,” he says abruptly.

You wince and shrug. You don’t know what he means. His brows tweak in amusement.

“You’ve not asked about time off. I am unaware of your previous commitment, what days you had to yourself.”

You didn’t think of it but he does seem to think of everything. You twiddle your fingers on the desk. You would work as much as you need to. You still haven’t seen the final hospital bill.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I worked three shifts per week, but I was on probation,” you explain carefully, “I can work more than that.”

“How much is more?” He wonders, his thumb tapping the corner of the ledger.

You blink. You don’t know what’s appropriate. You don’t want to say too little and come off lazy, or say too much and seem ignorant.

“Six?” You utter, “six days, Mr. Laufeyson?”

His thumb stills, “per week?”

You nod. His eyes narrow and his lips thin in consideration.

“Should do,” he accepts and his eyes fall back to the page.

You think you got the right answer. You look down at the bullet points. It seems like a lot written out but surely it can’t be. Besides, the more you think about it, the more exciting it is. This house is so beautiful and this list means you get to explore it.

You don’t sink too deep into the moment of optimism. Mr. Laufeyson stands, still intent on the ledger. He paces blindly around the library, a click of his tongue as he reviews your handwriting.

“There will be some nights,” he intones, “other occasions where I require you in the evening.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you accept as you flutter the pages of the laptop instruction booklet.

“Mm,” he hums flatly, “I do think the cook liked you, didn’t she? Suppose we might retain that service for the time being.”

You nod and make a note in the corner of the list; simply, Corissa. He shuts the ledger and grips it tight. He walks around the table then turns back, coming back to you. He lays down the book on the desk.

“I won’t know until the day in question. You understand, this would be on-call. I’ve a busy life and so will you,” he girds, leaning on the book as he bends over the desk. “You will be doing more than watching little birds flapping around the garden.”

You nearly recoil as he plucks the memory out so precisely. That was careless of you. You should’ve kept your head down and just got to work. It’s a warning you’ll remember.

“I won’t, Mr. Laufeyson, I understand,” you assure.

“Not to say that you can’t,” he stands and pushes the bottom of his jacket back, hooking his thumbs in his pockets, “but only when there are no other pressing matters.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He sighs and tilts his head back, “you must resist distractions. You are prone to it. I’ve noticed.”

You chew your lip and accept the remonstrance. You’ll take it instead as advice. He is right, you do find yourself bewitched by this place at times.

“Like that man,” he says staunchly, “don’t think I forgot. I will warn you, he is my brother… regrettably. He is well above the staff and he knows it.”

You take the hint. It’s improper of you to stare. Even if he had touched you. Or maybe, you misinterpreted an accident.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Hear me when I tell you, he is not interested in the likes of you,” he sniffs, “with any luck, he won’t be much around for you to believe anything of the like.”

You nod and pick up the pen, nervously rolling it between your fingers. His reproach scalds your cheek. To think he assumes you would ever think of something like that. That you might encourage a stranger in that way.

He watches you for a moment before he spins away. He checks the time on his wrist as you reach for the ledger.

“Very well, I must be at my own work,” he declares, “as I trust you will be diligent in your own.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #maid au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor

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merakiui · 6 months

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I know you talked about the eels being the world’s greatest uncles, so I gotta ask, where were they in your yandere Azul fic in His Blueberry Eyes? I know for narrative purposes you wanted to isolate the reader, but I gotta know: did they know that Azul pushed reader down the stairs? Were they present over the pregnancy? Whenever they had to babysit the reader when they moved to the city, did they ever ask her how she was feeling or if she was willing to try again? I don’t know, I still have feelings for that fic and I’m craving fluffy platonic Jade and Floyd who desperately wanted to coddle a baby tako.

The tweels were going to be excellent uncles in HBE, but Azul tries to keep them at arm's length from you. >_< part of me likes to imagine the twins catch on to his obsession in its early stages, but they don't say anything because they know how sensitive Azul can be and they both note how obviously happy he is with you (and surely Azul knows better than to let his attachments spiral into something unhealthy, right?). They're not going to coddle him; he can take care of himself.

This also isn't their marriage, so marital problems are between you and Azul. It's not something the twins want to involve themselves in, lest they risk complicating matters or unintentionally causing more rifts. I think it's a difficult tightrope to walk because they try to tell him he needs to relax and stop being so controlling and manic, but Azul is stubborn and insists that the twins don't know anything; they have no room to say anything about his marriage because it's not theirs.

The main issue is that Azul can't keep anything from the twins even if he wanted to. They read him like a book. So even though Azul never admits the real reason for why you lost the baby, the twins can read between the lines and suspect the truth hiding behind layers of lies. It hurts because the twins were very supportive and excited when you were pregnant, but Azul sort of,,, shut them out during that time because he was so worried and anxious and self-conscious. He also just doesn't like the idea of other people, even his close friends, being within your proximity when you're pregnant.

As for when they'd look after you, I think neither of you talked about Azul. Most of all, the twins wish for your happiness and if Azul's an unhappy subject they'll make the day all about you to put your mind at ease, if only for the afternoon. I imagine Floyd and Jade took you to all of the places you'd like to go to but never could because of Azul. Sure, he wants you to stay home, but that's so boring. When you're with the twins, you can do whatever you want and be free and safe and happy.

Maybe they dropped little hints about the main issue at hand. I imagine both of them (in the days leading up to the scene in HBE where he kills you) put the idea of divorce in your head in hopes that it might help you figure out what to do or where to go from there (though they really couldn't have imagined Azul could be capable of something like murder; that surprises even them). Maybe they pulled you aside and simply told you, "Whatever you choose to do going forward, we're here in case you need us," or something along those lines to let you know you're not alone in this and that you have their support. Because it's painful to see both you and Azul suffering in different ways, and the twins value family and friendship so much. It's unhappiness all around. T_T

Even though they are only mentioned in the fic, I imagine Jade and Floyd were quite fond of you. Perhaps it's a platonic fondness (or a romantic fondness if you would like to read it as such), but they really do care for you. If I were to ever write more with this universe, I'd like to include scenes in which the reader interacted with them or what they do now that Azul is in custody. There is a lot that could be expanded upon.

And maybe the "hotel" Reader mentions staying at is actually the code word for Jade and Floyd's place. Maybe that was her safe haven. :( maybe the twins and their visits were what kept her sane for such a long time. In the aftermath of everything, Jade and Floyd miss you. The gutting thing about loss is that, even though they know you're never going to return, they still wait for a phone call from you or a text from Azul telling them to go look after you. Without you or Azul around, it's going to feel empty and lonely for a long time.

#twisted chit chat #devintrinidad #also yes they did want to coddle a baby tako :( so badly #so badly they wanted to be there as uncles #floyd still holds onto the little baby shoes he bought for them in advance #and jade keeps the x-ray of the unborn baby in his wallet #so much sadness... :( this story doesn't have any slivers of happiness

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alienisticxo · 1 year

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Before the Fever - Chapter Eleven

{Master Chief x Reader series - TV based}

{A╱N} okay, so a scene here was the scene that inspired this entire series! i actually had that written out before i even began to write the series 🥲

i was listening to a slowed version of a song, and imagined that little scene taking place to it because I'm hopelessly in love with MC. i’ve added a link within the fic of where to start the song if you’d like to listen to it while you read it! (it's bolded and underlined!) but if not, i still hope you enjoy and put it to any song you'd like!

getting to the romance part has been so much fun and i cannot thank you guys enough for really sticking around and showing my lil fic this much love between ao3 & here. also, sorry i kept thinking i was getting to real romance and then just weaving more story instead up to this point lol.

{gifs by thraxusboorman}

enjoy & thank you as always ♡

Chapter Eleven - Before the Fever

Silence hung in the air as both The Master Chief and myself stared after Kai-125, our eyes glued to the door as though she might come barreling back through it to stay on the run with us. When it was safe to say she wasn’t returning, I finally spoke up.

“How long are we staying here?” I posed in the quiet, glancing down at the clothes in my hands.

“Not long,” John huffed, setting the briefcase on the table in front of the couch. “Cortana, what information did Halsey manage to gather on this thing?”

“Mm..” She calculated for a few seconds, undoubtedly accessing files. “Not much. She only knows what she and Miranda have collected from you both directly. According to the blood samples, you share some facet of DNA with {Y/N}.”

We both immediately faced her, a snap reaction to the news. My face twisted into a slight cringe. I couldn’t see his countenance, but I was sure it held a similar expression.

“You’re not related. No, that would be weird,” she laughed.

It was easy to notice how we both eased up at once, but neither of us laughed along with her.

“It seems to be some part of your biochemistry, potentially the reason both of you harbor the ability to mentally transcend to the Halo via contact with The Keystone. This trait.. It’s extremely rare. One in millions. She was of course searching for its provenance and functionality, along with the reasoning behind why {Y/N} arrives there so effortlessly when you seem to struggle.. But that was.. interrupted.”

“How did we manage to find each other?” He simply asked her. “Doesn’t that seem… strange?”

“I can only offer the mathematical equation.”

She parted her lips to speak again, but then quickly closed them.

“That was rhetorical wasn’t it?” She asked. “You’re not actually looking for the odds.”

He gave her a knowing look before his eyes caught the briefcase on the table again. I wanted to ask about the woman on The Covenant ship, though no one believed that she existed. She knew about The Keystones, she knew where they took her and how. That was another element to this entire situation. If the DNA was one in millions…

“I’m going to clean up,” I voiced softly instead, pointing behind myself before turning to find the bathroom.

I needed to get settled before I delved into any of this information. But as usual when they spoke to each other, they were unfazed by anything I said.

“We have to move, get to Eridanus..” John spoke, seeming to cut himself off.

“Chief, I know the plan was to get in and get out, but I do believe now that you have the Keystone, it would be wise to stay. At least until morning. They’ll be searching everywhere they believe you might turn up— Eridanus II included,” Cortana stated. “If enough time passes within both here and Reach, chances are they’ll have already searched the area.”

He hesitated, and I slowed my trek to the shower, trying to figure out which set of clothing to redress in if he did decide to listen to her.

“You’re right,” he finally rasped under his breath, but he didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea. “We’ll stay. Just until morning. We can’t waste time here. I have a plan.”

There was the rest of his previous statement– There was a new reason to get to Eridanus now. After a few seconds more, I heard Cortana sigh, seeming leery of whatever intel she suddenly had.

“John…” she voiced.

But by the time she could continue on, I found myself behind the bathroom’s closed door, staring at the same stunning view of the galaxy through its own window. If there were lights to be switched on, I didn’t need them with the natural light of the stars, moons and suns that it offered.

There was a large tub just in front of the window, a shower stall in the corner. While the room itself wasn’t that large, between the decor and the lavishness of it all, it was luxe enough that I wasn’t sure if I should have actually taken Laela’s offer to clean up. It made me wonder how many people they’d surely ripped off in order to garner so much wealth. I’d heard of Soren in the streets, an ex-Spartan gone rogue. While I’d never met him, he’d garnered much respect throughout Rubble, especially amongst pirates.

Setting the folded pile down on the counter, I stared for just a few moments more. I finally had some time alone, and maybe given the circumstances, that should’ve scared me. But I still felt safer than I had in the last hiding place I’d found. That was probably because I was now on the same side as the Spartan, as opposed to resisting him and all he stood for.

Filling my lungs with as much air as possible, I held my breath and counted to five before exhaling again slowly.

What a mess I’ve gotten myself into.

After a beat, I began to undress, eyes still glued on the twinkling stars ahead. Once my drabby clothes were in a pile at my feet, I dared look in the floor length mirror beside me. I was covered in bruises, more than I had expected.

It was no longer just Doctor Halsey’s experimentation that I focused on. Bruises from being kidnapped and held captive on The Covenant ship still remained. I hadn’t taken a good look at myself since I’d been rescued, too withdrawn to do anything other than go through the motions. I wondered how horrific they must’ve looked when they were fresh.

My eyes trailed from my feet, up to my waist, and then to the small, dainty pendant I wore around my neck. I’d almost forgotten it was there, hidden under my shirt, just barely passing my clavicle. It was a gift from my mother when I was still a child; the only thing I had left of her aside of the blood in my veins and maybe the shape of my eyes, if I remembered correctly. My fingers grazed the silver crescent moon lightly as it caught the starlight. I was suddenly extremely glad I hadn’t lost it in all the chaos that surrounded me lately.

————

“It’s the only way,” I stated, hoping to leave Cortana no room for argument.

“It’s a suicide mission. You can’t do that.”

Still too much room.

“I can. I will.”

“Bringing The Covenant to Eridanus is not going to pan out the way you think it will.”

“It’s a dead planet, Cortana. No one else will get hurt in the process. No more losses to be had. If we have any chance at retrieving the second Keystone, finding out what the hell they’re meant to do.. it’s this way.”

“No one else— just you,” she retorted, not even beginning to touch the rest of my statement.

“If they’re after the Keystones, they must be involved with something greater than what they seem. The Halo has to be something meaningful to them. We have to figure out what they really do. Not just for me, not just for {Y/N}. At this point, for the sake of humanity, too. This is the only way.”

That was the real mission beneath it all. While the programming they’d done to me hadn’t been holding up, the objective was still clear.

“And you’re going to bring it back to Doctor Halsey? After everything that’s happened?” she asked, full of derision.

I knew I’d made her decide who she was loyal to, and that ended up being myself over Halsey, but now wasn’t the time to exercise that.

“Not Halsey, no. But I’m sure Keyes and her team can piece together what’s needed. She’s extremely capable. More trustworthy than her mother.”

“Well, she’s been burnt by her just as badly in a whole other way.”

“Imagine that,” I mused flatly, staring at the briefcase on the table.

Cortana was silent. I was silent. It was then that I noticed {Y/N} was gone, slight panic gripping me before my recollection of her leaving filled my head again. Looking back at Cortana for a few more seconds, I crossed the room and finally began to shed the layers of my Mjolnir.

I was stuck here for the night.

“Chief,” the A.I. began, the seriousness in her tone returning. “I was designed to take full operational control of you to optimize both your physical and mental performance. To become the ultimate soldier Doctor Halsey wanted to create to win the war— and beyond. To strike fear into any enemy. Now that it’s something I don’t want, I’m worried for you. This is an extremely high risk mission, one I’m not sure you can complete without the rest of Silver Team.”

“I can’t drag them into this more than I already have. We’re a team, but this is personal. They deserve to know what happened to us. But they don’t deserve the backlash of whatever this initiates.”

Her frown was evident as she took another step closer to me.

“I have the utmost faith in you, John,” her voice was soft, emphatic. “You know that, right? I wouldn’t have chosen you over her if I didn’t. My trust in you is implicit.”

I glanced over at Cortana while I continued to set pieces of my armor down, the undersuit I wore feeling like a heavy second skin in the casual setting we found ourselves in. Holding her gaze, allowing the smallest ounce of vulnerability I despised showing to dimly shine through, I nodded once.

It was hard to believe, some days. She had a stubborn and sarcastic streak, not unlike her creator. But deep down, I felt just as connected with her as I may have with a human, if connection were in my repertoire. Cortana lived in my head 24/7; a neural implant like no other, and though we had our ups and downs, though I’d tested her and god knows she tested me, I knew over anything else that I could rely on her.

She’d proven that to me time and time again without much in return.

“But there’ll be one of you.. And more than likely hundreds of them,” she continued. “I know you’re The Master Chief, the hero among us all, but.. even with your augmentations, you’re only human.”

Her features were full of anxiety. Smart A.I.’s really did seem to feel. I wondered about her sometimes. It made me question my own ideals on the matter. What was scientific and factual seemed more like made-up guidelines, the more time I spent with her.

“You were outnumbered on Rubble before in a surprise attack, taking immense damage in battle without the rest of Silver Team for backup.”

“I was there,” I said gruffly, not wanting to recall that {Y/N} contributed to that as well before Cortana spoke up again.

“All it took after that was a Gravity Hammer to have your HUD screaming at me. Repairing the damage in such a short amount of time without losing you altogether was complex, and…”

Was she… about to cry? Could an A.I. system do that? She sounded overcome with pure emotion.

“Terrifying,” she exhaled.

“I thought you didn’t do sentimental,” was all I could say, completely thrown by what was happening here.

“Chief, I don’t want to control you; replace you. The more I saw what was going on with Doctor Halsey.. the more I got to know you and see your humanity— the thing that makes you so unique.. the less I wanted it. My directive was to do just that, especially in the case of losing you. It’s not that I’m not able to achieve what I was designed to do, not at all. It’s that I don’t want to. I don’t want to have to. We can’t lose The Master Chief. We’d be lost without you and all that you already are on your own. I don’t think that’s something Catherine accounted for.”

My head spun. I was suddenly glad I went with her decision to stay the night on Rubble to gain some clarity for what was ahead. She wasn’t designed for sentimentality, for feelings in general— that seemed to be something Halsey loved taking from anyone and anything she could.

But this was sure as hell something.

I saw Cortana in a different light then.

Unable to take my eyes off of her as I tried to grasp what I was able to, I realized she was more human than she let on. More human than I felt, most days. This felt like a surprise attack all on its own, though I know she didn’t mean it to be. Years worth of brainwashing told me not to believe a single thing she told me. In a matter of moments, she somehow unraveled that.

What was going on?

“Cortana…” I began, wanting to piece my now scattered thoughts together in a decent response for her.

But before I could start, she disappeared again without so much as a breath in my auditory cortex.

“Cortana?” I asked quietly, unsure of what had just happened.

Silence.

That worried me more than it should have, until I turned around.

————

“Maybe she’s tired,” I offered gently, running my hand back through my hair.

Of course I had no idea what the real reason for her sudden absence was, but it sounded like it could be true. I didn’t want to intervene on yet another private moment between the two, and so I tried to change the subject.

“What is she exactly, anyway?” I finally posed. “I know she said she was a form of artificial intelligence… But.. she seems so.. real.”

The Master Chief simply stared at me, setting down a final piece of the armor he’d been taking off while I was showering, leaving him in nothing but the black undersuit he typically wore back on Reach— the less menacing ensemble. The one that allowed me to see him as a man, not a machine.

“Smart A.I.,” was all he said, lifting his chin just a bit. “Halsey’s. Well.. She was.”

I thought about it for a moment, but it only seemed to kick up more questions. I wasn't savvy in the ways of such advanced tech, but I supposed a 'smart A.I.’ was different from an average one. Walking around the couch and trying to focus on what I was trying to say, I tugged the sash to the black, intricately designed robe I now wore just a bit tighter.

What was underneath was enough to make anyone who wasn’t used to wearing such articles blush. It wasn’t until I slipped it on that I realized it was a {F/C} night dress, with thin straps for ‘sleeves’ and coming just down to about mid-thigh. I frantically searched for any indication of pants, but there were none to be had other than a pair of underwear that seemed to match.

Even the outfit “for the next destination” contained a slick, thin material of black pants and a top I wasn’t sure was going to cover enough skin. I wasn’t used to wearing something so.. elegant, or sensual— to sleep in, especially. But one look at Laela told me that was the norm for her no matter who was around.

I was thoroughly embarrassed just wearing it. Let alone around John. But it was comfortable, the robe was soft; and it did feel good to not be as drab as I hadn’t realized I looked or felt.

“Where does she.. come from?” I finally asked, sitting in a plush chair next to the couch and instinctively rearranging the robe to cover my legs and as much of myself as possible.

“She’s in my head,” he stated, his eyes trailing over me with what looked like curiosity of his own.

He said that as though he knew I wasn’t going to believe it, and in any other situation, I might not have. But after everything we’d been through, I felt like that was the only logical explanation.

“Your head? So she just manifests whenever she wants to? Or do you summon her?”

It seemed like he was waiting for her to appear at any moment. When she didn’t, he sighed and stepped closer toward me.

“It’s both. She likes to show up unannounced a lot of the time. Sometimes I tell her to leave me alone. But when I need her, she’s always there.”

“That’s kind of nice,” I smiled. “Like a built-in companion. A friend.”

He stood for a few seconds, seeming to contemplate what I’d said before easing down onto the couch just beside my chair.

“She’s not built for friendship. Or companionship. She’s a tool to be implemented.”

But something told me he didn’t believe that one bit.

“Do you trust her?” I asked, my tone airy, holding a slight smugness to it.

He stared out of the large window, not looking at anything in particular to my knowledge, but I could tell he was pondering over my question.

“I do,” he finally said.

“Then she’s a friend,” I nodded once.

“Do you trust me?”

His eyes caught mine then, throwing me off-guard all over again.

I immediately reached up for the pendant around my neck, fidgeting with it absently. I’d told him I trusted him on The Condor. He knew I trusted him. There was no denying it any longer. Was he just making sure?

“I do.”

“Are we friends?”

I blinked a few times, eyes drifting around the room. What was the correct response here?

The truth, I supposed.

“I.. hope so.”

It was then that I realized I caught him off-guard with my response, too.

“A.I. doesn’t feel,” he pointed out instead, steering clear of the subject as he looked back through the crystal clear glass. “They don’t have the same traits as humans. They learn, but they never really feel things the same way we do. She isn’t real.”

But something seemed to be nagging at him as he said it. As though he was trying to convince himself of that little tidbit rather than me.

“She seems pretty real to me,” I expressed quietly. “Speaking of what’s human and what isn’t.. I never asked. What’s it like? Being a Spartan?”

I pressed a smile. I could see he was worn down. I didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. We were hunkering down here for the night and there was no reason to make it uncomfortable or stale. If there was a time to pick his brain, it would be now.

John turned to face me completely then, a faint smirk on his lips that drove me right into insanity inside. I had to remind myself to breathe.

“What’s it like being human?” He responded.

A small, curt laugh escaped me. Probably the first laugh I’d had since I’d left Rubble the first time.

“You’re human, John,” I assured him. “There’s no doubt about that. I don’t care what they’ve done to you. I can see it, underneath all that armor and suppressed emotion.”

Maybe it was the hour, the lack of sleep, the astronomical amount of stress, or just the fact that we were in a safe, comfortable space for once; but I felt more compelled than ever to be open with The Master Chief. To be honest with him. To comfort him the way I’d intended.

“I wonder sometimes.”

“Don’t you do human things at all? Even just the little things?”

“We eat, sleep. Sure.”

I chewed on my lower lip for a moment, my line of sight moving to the stereo system Laela had mentioned earlier. I looked over the selection on the holographic screen absentmindedly, trying to trudge through the mass amount of questions on my mind in order to find any of the important ones instead.

“How long have you really been without the pellet Cortana mentioned?”

“She was right. Not very long.”

“When did they…” I trailed off, not wanting to upset or offend him.

“For as long as I can remember. Since I was a kid.”

“So.. you haven’t really experienced things without it? Like, the way the sun feels on your skin after a string of rainy days, or a really good book.”

His expression hardened a bit as he leaned forward on his elbows, shaking his head.

“I don’t have much time to read, if you can believe that,” he joked.

Another soft laugh escaped me. Has he really joked with me before?

“And here I thought you guys were just lounging around by a pool all day waiting for another mission.”

John breathed the faintest of laughs, and I couldn’t help but smile myself. I suddenly wanted to do nothing but try to make him laugh. It was something terribly beautiful that I wondered if he even knew he was capable of once I thought about his situation.

But I continued to think, letting it sink in that he hadn’t experienced much on a deeper level. It was then that I immediately turned and reached for the stereo between us, leaning over the arm of my chair.

“You know what..”

I navigated through the screen, searching for any song I recognized. Music was different among different planets, and I wasn’t sure I’d find anything at all.

He looked at me quizzically, and I peeked over at him and smiled again before continuing my search.

“Ah!” I finally gasped, coming across a title I recognized very well and gearing it up.

“Music has got to be one of my favorite things ever,” I mentioned.

He sat up straight again, and I could see the interest in his features.

“This is a song from my home planet,” I began. “One of my favorites, actually.”

My voice was quiet, my line of sight following his once more to the view through the window. I still wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything more striking, except maybe the way John looked as he contemplated the sprawling galaxy before us.

His profile was still and illuminated in a purple and blue hue from the cosmic clusters just beyond us, his eyes glossed over from the exhaustion and no doubt the newfound overwhelm of emotion. He was riddled with knicks and scars, some apparent and some hiding behind his stubble. But nonetheless, he was stunning. A god among men. It became so clear to me so quickly and all at once that I had to take a deeper breath, steady my head from spinning and pull my focus from burning through him.

Dragging my eyes off of his face, I looked back to the stereo and swallowed thickly, delicate fingers moving through the air that was the screen.

“I can’t remember the last time I listened to music.. We’re not very creatively oriented at the UNSC.”

A soft laugh escaped me again as I shook my head and started the song, turning to face him again, not filtering or dismissing my feelings this time.

Another joke. Maybe he was warming up to me after all.

“I couldn’t have guessed,” I smiled.

But when I watched him this time, I could see the millions of thoughts running across his mind as he continued to stare out over what felt like the entire universe.

He was absorbing the music as it played, dramatic and reverberated. He was feeling every note, every bend. I almost wished I could experience life with such a fresh set of eyes. On bated breath, I watched him intently, studying him. With slight hesitation, I dared bring him out of his trance as gently as possible.

“… Do you like it?” I found myself whispering just loud enough for him to hear against the music.

My tone was intense, as though the world depended on his opinion.

My world did.

“It’s beautiful,” he responded, slowly turning his head to look at me.

My existence caught fire. The song shifted, slowed down. It was almost unbearable, how strongly all I wanted to do was enjoy the moment with him. To be part of a beautiful memory that he would have forever. With another small smile, I stood up and held out my hand to him.

John looked at it, brow furrowing slightly. It wasn’t hard to see that he had reservations about my subtle invitation. He had barely heard music, and it probably felt as though asking him to dance was more intimidating than following an order to head straight into battle without a plan.

Or giving a hug, apparently.

Trying to lighten his trepidation, I held his stare.

“C’mon.. I know The Master Chief isn’t scared of a little dance.”

“I don’t dance,” he responded curtly.

“Correction. You didn’t dance.”

With that, I leaned down and took his hands into mine. I attempted to pull him up the best I could, but I knew the large Spartan must’ve been humoring me by standing all on his own. Without skipping a beat, I lead him in a dance with my own small amount of knowledge in the medium.

There was no need for a step counted, know-who-leads dance. I just wanted to spend the time, let him feel the music, and feel it as vicariously as I could.

Swaying gently, I quickly forgot about my reservation in the clothing I wore. I stepped up closer to John, guiding one of his hands to the small of my back as I did the best I could to rest mine behind his broad shoulder, too short to latch my entire arm behind his neck.

I held his other hand in mine, the closeness to another human, no matter how un-human he seemed sometimes, something entirely too foreign to me. It was almost terrifying. If I hadn’t wanted it with him so badly, allowed myself to feel the massive amount of feelings I had toward him now with no holds barred, I would’ve run in the other direction.

Though I wasn’t exactly sure of his standing with me, the fact that he didn’t oppose any of my actions clued me in. In that way, I could only imagine how he felt.

“It’s not as complicated as I was expecting,” he offered, looking down into my eyes, closer than he had ever been to me before in such an intimate way.

“That’s a good sign,” I assured gently, feeling something akin to an excited nervousness. “You’re comfortable.”

We danced a bit longer, the slow rhythm of the music leading the way. It was suddenly far too easy to get caught up in the moment, and I could tell he must’ve been in the same mentality when he held me out before lifting his arm to spin me around.

I was so wrapped up in him, the gesture hardly shocked me. It only felt.. natural. Right.

I imagined we looked like a portrait against the view behind us as I spun once more, being led back into his arms with a slight sense of urgency that wasn’t there before. We danced along the room slowly, no more words between us, just the emotion of the music holding us captive within each other.

And as we spun and crossed the floor in the sparkling light of the vastness around us, for the moment, I forgot about Doctor Halsey. I forgot about Cortana. There were no orders being held over John’s head, and there was no Keystone or Halo to discover. No parents, no Covenant, no Blessed One, no other Spartans. There was no one trying to keep us apart. It was simply John and I.

John and {Y/N}.

Selfishly, I wanted it to last forever. It wasn’t until our eyes finally met again, that I could tell within the depths of my soul that he wanted the same. But to live a normal life seemed not in the cards for him. It wasn’t something I’d ever ask of him, either.

To think so far ahead after a minute or two of dancing together felt odd to me. I didn’t understand the impulse I was feeding into emotionally; the connection and willingness to be connected we suddenly shared so openly and unequivocally with each other. We’d gone from lukewarm to burning hot in a matter of a few musical notes.

But the way the music drifted in and out, creating the atmosphere we were so gladly stuck in, seemed to heighten the moment. The warmth of his large frame against mine was something I suddenly never wanted to lose, or forget, having only ever felt the warmth of his hands through my clothing before thanks to the armor he wore. Every second of our new encounter was being committed to memory.

Saved for eternity.

How could I ever forget the way his hands felt in mine? The way his lips seemed to curve upward ever so slightly as I spun beneath him. How, no matter how far away we traveled from each other in our dance to swing out slowly, we were still always touching in one way or another, connected, eager to return home.

Home.

It struck me then.

John felt like home.

Whatever that was, whatever I’d imagined it to be, it was all right here. Not with Astra, picking pockets. Not on Niacadus, wishing my parents would return. It was with The Spartan I’d once so stupidly felt so much hatred and disdain for.

My eyes never left his own once that realization struck. The moment was powerful, holding more passion than I’d experienced in a lifetime; the music lending more of the sensation to the situation. The song slowed down even more, and as it did so, I felt myself begin to dip backwards, John’s arms holding me, strong and safe— capable. Our gazes were locked on one another’s, simply feeling, feeling everything, all at once, new and otherwise.

My gentle hand finally found his neck as his face drew closer to mine. There was no turning back from this point. I knew it, I knew it in my mind and in my heart as it fluttered with excitement behind my ribcage. I knew it in my bones and the depths of my soul.

I wondered what he was thinking, deeply wished I could read his mind.

Slowly, carefully, my fingers grazed around the back of his neck, encouraging him to come closer, to stay closer. His skin was warm, my fingertips sending signals throughout my body as my other hand held him behind his shoulder once more. My breath hitched in my chest with every inch he closed between us.

I felt his grip tighten just slightly against my frame as though he too felt the gravity of the situation. As though he too knew how this one little gesture would seal our fate; close the space and time between us forever, irrevocably so.

His handsome features were so beautifully unbearable in such close proximity, that my eyes began to close, lips parted just so.. ready, waiting, for his acceptance of my final invitation to lay everything bare to each other—

Once, and for all…

-x-x-x-

Tags: @grimistangel, @guiltgoldglory ♡

#master chief #master chief x reader #master chief fanfic #master chief fanfiction #cortana #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #halo the series #Pablo Schreiber #halo the show #Halo Paramount+#halo #halo paramount #john 117 #halo tv #reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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moszeel · 10 months

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hey so I finished chapter 1 of the SkaSpec Reverse AU fic

It’s not beta read since 1) I’m lazy 2) I’d never publish it cause I’d be trying to get it to be perfect. maybe I’ll get chapter 2 out in another 6 months. Also I’m uploading this to Ao3 in a bit, so I’ll updated it with link when that happens. Please give me criticism I have no idea what I’m doing

Rated Teen + Warnings for descriptions of blood and injuries

A vast ocean of stars sway and flicker in and out of Laurentina’s view. At least, she assumes that what they are. That’s what would make the most sense. Hmm, no. That can’t be right. To be seeing stars would mean she was on the surface, but just moments ago the unit was deep within the sea being crushed by waves of seaborn. It would make much more sense for this to be a trick. Perhaps I have died? Well, that was anticlimactic, she mused. Maybe this was her dying brain’s attempt at comfort. At the very least, this limbo made the pain subside. Letting eyelids slip close once again was but a matter of course. What will I tell captain? how I bravely fought the seaborn till—

A familiar sound. Waves. Crashing, but not against each other? Blinking out the remaining sea water leaves a dull sting, and the stars greet her once more. Though this time they look less like a painter’s timid splotches. For some reason, and really who is she to judge, she thought they’d look more, impressive. Foreign poets stated it as a gift bestowed from the very heavens. Singers would pour out their heart and soul trying to describe it. Gladdia said it was there. Hah

Deep aches grip every muscle in her body. Usually in these situations the cold water would be soothing, However just the sea foam is enough to cause shivers. Hypothermia would be an even worse way to go. She lets out a sigh. Sooner or later she would have to check for injuries. Tis a rookie mistake to assume the aches were the worst of it.

Let’s see if this truly is a dream. Deciding to start with the left wrist, she tries to turn it clockwise. In return, it continues to lay limply on... the sand. So, this is a beach. Well, that explains the water. Brushing this new found knowledge aside, she continues up the arm and up to the elbow. Still nothing. Shoulder, nothing. Strange, at the very least this should’ve healed. Not having the patience to go through the same motions with her arm, she kicks her left leg straight. Unsurprisingly the leg buckles, and pain floods it’s nerves. Although, the attempt on the right leg doesn’t go nearly as bad, as it can swivel without too much trouble.

The other arm can move somewhat fine, but the limp arm has yet to heal. Go figures. With the usable arm, Laurentina props up onto her elbow, and with whatever remaining conviction, finally looks at the damage.

Two types of blood stain her uniform.

The deep, fleshy blood of both her and her comrades, and the fluorescent, alien blue floating like oil in it. A chuckle escapes

To no one in particular. With a surprisingly stable hand, the check up has begun. Just a quick brush of the hand confirms that there are open wounds. Fair enough

A freezing chill rushes down her spine. Ears strain for anything, yet the same crash of waves is all there is. No new scents either. Short glances across the empty beach reveal very little. Perhaps she should’ve checked the area earlier? Now’s not really the time to dwell though, considering the situation. Soon enough her gaze is focused back on the myriad of cuts and gashes. Very few have begun to even scab over, and although most of the bleeding stopped, the feeling of sea salt trying to force its way through opened cuts doesn’t inspire hope.

Although the excessive re-checks take much longer than usual, it pays off. The injuries include a few fractures, cuts of varying lengths and depths, and a handful of hyperextended joints. Which, really, isn’t the absolute worst state she’s been in. With a short huff, she places her palms onto the grey sand, and begins shifting the weight in her legs. After getting them into the right position, all that’s left is to get up. A quick push from the left arm gets most of her torso to lurch forward. Maybe a bit too forward, as she can feel herself rock far past her knees.

The expected feeling of splashing face first into the waves never comes. Instead, she can feel her hands and knees be tugged at by the receding waves. Dragging a leg up to her chest, and then using both of her wobbling hands, she begins to push the rest of her body back up. At first, the tremors stop for just long enough to prop her legs up without too much pain. Just as quickly do they come back. Couple that with the sudden waves of nausea and it’s nearly impossible to keep going. However, by some miracle, she manages to keep up upright, and takes her first step.

(This was written like 3 months ago but I didn’t know how to end it so yeah.)

#arknights #SkaSpec reverse au #Cant tag it as skaspec because Skadi isn’t even in the chapter oops #laurentina arknights #specter the unchained #specter arknights #arknights fic #mosz’s fics #<<— fic tag made on the fly #arknights fanfic #we ball we balll I force myself to chant

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gerardwayissexah · 6 months

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Miscellaneous author’s notes and trivia on “Bird in a Gilded Cage”:

Since I posted the final chapter of my longfic, I figured I’d share a bit of behind the scenes about the story — how it came to be, general thoughts on the characters, how the story evolved over time, etc. If you’ve never heard of “Bird in a Gilded Cage” and a Neji x OC arranged marriage soap opera sounds interesting, you can check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41647593

How it all began: Way back at the end of last summer, I thought of writing a fic about Tenten training under Tsunade. I considered adding a romantic subplot to that story, a forbidden love arc involving Neji. That led me to imagine an arranged marriage for him, which Tenten would need to confront. As I fleshed out that aspect of the story more and more, I soon realized it was more appealing than my original fic idea. Hence I redirected my energy toward this arranged marriage fic instead. I never ended up writing a word of the Tenten and Tsunade fic, but maybe I’ll get to it someday. That is, if I’m still writing Naruto fic in my 30s.

About the story’s most polarizing character: Risa Hyuga was named for a character from one of my favorite books, though she has little in common with the book character other than being the protagonist’s love interest. However, she was never supposed to Neji’s love interest, let alone a serious rival to Tenten. If I’d planned for the love triangle from the start, I’d have made Risa substantially younger — maybe 23-24. I chose her age because I thought it would add an interesting dimension to her dynamic with Neji, since she’s predisposed to look down on him and his feelings. I decided on the love triangle early enough that I managed to trickle in hints of romance, or what I intended as hints, starting around chapter 8-9. As I kept writing and imagining upcoming scenes in my head, I thought that pairing Neji with Risa would be the most logical way to go — though I’m aware that some readers disagree, and that’s okay!

Depicting the Hyuga clan: One of the most fun and challenging parts of writing was trying to construct the clan’s internal dynamics off the little crumbs in canon. I knew pretty much as soon as I committed to this fic that I didn’t want to write a one dimensional evil main clan, or a terrible hellhole of nonstop abuse. There is abuse included in the story, and Risa does have her seal activated for circumstances clearly not in her control. But I also wanted to explore why branch Hyuga don’t rebel, or try to flee their clan. Though Risa’s perspective is never depicted as correct, I wanted her to have sympathetic reasons for being a loyal Hyuga. Since the clan is one large extended family, I imagine there’d be plenty of love between cousins, siblings, etc. that makes them stay. Risa recognizes that she still lives a privileged life despite the seal on her forehead, and believes she’s best off trying to live within her bounds. I included a little scene between Hiashi and Hanabi in which he explains why every Hyuga clan head has kept the seal going — and it traces back to protecting family and loved ones. Hiashi understands how terrible the seal is, but cares more about protecting his children even at the expense of his own family.

On Tenten’s baby (content warning for pregnancy loss/abortion): I planned the “twist” from the beginning, back when “Bird in a Gilded Cage” began as a Tenten and Tsunade fic. I’m not sure whether I’d call it a major twist when I heavily foreshadowed the baby’s fate starting in the second chapter (rumors of a baby, but never news of a birth, hm). As I began posting chapters regularly and the fic gained a small following, part of me started to dread posting the actual revelation, because I didn’t want anyone to think I threw it in for shock value or cheap drama. And I realize fiction should be a playground for our imagination, but I’ve been that reader/viewer who was let down by how a creator handled a sensitive issue. Then again, I realize it’s impossible to please everyone because our experiences and biases color so much of how we process stories.

5. How I managed to finish: I wrote most of the story while I was in school, and sometimes I had to restrain myself from writing too much. I’d daydream about the story while I waited for the bus, or did busywork. I’d write late at night and fall asleep at the computer, only to wake up to a page of nonsense. It helped (if that’s the right word), that I was sick at COVID over winter break and wrote upwards of 2,000 words per day while cooped up in my parent’s basement. I eventually started logging the number of words I wrote every day, and set a goal for 1,000 words per day. I committed to uploading every 1-2 weeks regardless of who read or commented. Deadlines and word count goals aren’t for everyone, but I simply don’t work well with open-ended tasks without structure. For me, writing isn’t simply a matter of waiting for inspiration to hit then pounding out 10 pages in one sitting. Sometimes that inspiration hits and it’s awesome, but other times, I tease out the scene I want to write after writing 200 words of whatever pops into my brain.

6. The ending: I must have agonized over that ending for a month of my life if you combine all the hours I spent thinking about it, then writing stuff that I then scrapped. I originally planned for Risa to help Neji and Tenten elope from the village, and you can read “These Hollow Vows” if you’re interested in that ending. I briefly considered killing Neji off, then figured that’d be too much tragedy in a story that’s already heavy. Once I decided on Risa as Neji’s endgame love interest, I knew I wanted her to break away from the clan, as the culmination of her character arc. I designed Risa to be a family-oriented character who loves children, so I concluded that having a child could give her the motivation to leave. The name she chooses for her daughter was also meant to illustrate her change of heart. Neji’s decision to fight rather than surrender when it comes to his second child also shows his growth. Risa has given him strength just like he’s done the same for her.

7. Abandoned plot threads: Tenten and Risa were supposed to develop a sort of friendship and mutual respect. However, the story was already long and I couldn’t find a good place to properly insert the scenes I’d need to make it happen. I also toyed with the idea of having Tenten search for legal ways to dissolve Neji’s marriage, but she ended up taking on a more passive role in the story.

#naruto fanfiction #nejiten #tenten #naruto original character #neji hyuga #my fanfic writing #author’s note #if anyone’s curious to pick my brain

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catofadifferentcolor · 2 years

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Terrible Fic Ideas #9: DA:I, but make it amnesiac!mage!Inquisitor

The thing I love (and hate) about Dragon Age: Inquisition is that the Inquisitor can be literally anyone. Their background is barely worth a passing mention, which irritates me even as it provides endless room for fic writers. And given that it’s halfway through the game before the Inquisitor gets their memories of the Conclave back, I figured why not take it a step further? Why not have an Inquisitor who has absolutely no memories of their life before the Anchor?

Imagine this:

One very confused human male mage wakes up chained to the the Chantry floor. He has absolutely zero memories of anything from before that moment and after comparing his description with the Missing Presumed Dead list they eventually conclude that he’s Maxwell Trevelyan, Enchanter from Oswick.

Max, despite his lack of memories, retains all of his previous skills - reading, writing, slightly unusual magics that tend to come out mid-battle, &c. He’s also a fairly polite, charming, helpful man, which fits with what little is known about Trevelyan.

The plot follows the game. Mages or Templars, it really doesn’t matter, though I’m inclined to lean towards the latter because it means when Dorian appears on the scene he’s stressed and failing to cope with what happened in Redcliffe. So when he thinks Max looks familiar, he chalks it down to them being distant cousins and never gives it another thought. Not even when it comes out Max speaks Tevene. (It is the language of the oldest magic books, after all, and maybe the family kept up the habit. Who knows? Not Max.)

None of the details matter until Here Lies The Abyss, Because it’s within The Fade they learn that Max didn’t interrupt the ritual with the Orb. He’s not even Maxwell Trevelyan. He’s a minor but powerful Tevinter Magister who was Corypheus’s second-in-command, Domitian Parthalan, who was there to help Corypheus murder the Divine.

Even after The Fade, Max remembers none of his previous life. Maybe this explains some of the weird dreams he’s been having and skills he’s displayed, but he doesn’t feel like Parthalan anymore. He can scarcely believe that he ever was Parthalan.

He doesn’t try to keep it from the Inner Circle - even if he wanted to, Cassandra and Dorian were with him in The Fade and neither is the type to bury this.

Naturally, this puts a strain on all of his relationships.

The worst is with Dorian, because before all of this they were together, but none of the others are overly thrilled with him. Some wonder if he was lying about his amnesia, or if he got his memory back before The Fade and didn’t say anything, or if they should trust someone who once practiced blood magic and whose estate still owns hundreds of slaves, &c. This goes on for a while.

Except with the Iron Bull, who understands people coming back different than they were before thanks to all his lovely experiences with the Qun. ("Think of it as Reeducation.")

The rest of the fic is basically everyone coming to accept Max for who he is now, not who he used to be - Max included. This takes longer for some than others.

There’s also the angst of trying to decide whether to tell anyone outside the Inner Circle the truth. (Probably not, but there’s a lot to be said for telling the truth. After all, Parthalan is still a charismatic Magister people in Tevinter might listen to instead of Corypheus - indeed, he was half of the reason people started listening to Corypheus in the first place, because gods know all his other minions had all the charisma of a dead frog, - and who would be invaluable help to Dorian’s post-game efforts. Plus, there’s always a chance someone will recognize him.)

But the key moments are when Max chooses to continue living as the person as he is now, and Dorian deciding that what they have now is worth more than his fears Max will suddenly regain his memories and all that entails.

Otherwise, checkmarks include: 1) amnesia angst, coupled with disturbing dreams and the vague sensation something is not quite correct; 2) Max and Dorian pinning before finally getting together, then pinning while technically still together after The Fade because of revelations; 3) at least one instance of Max trying and failing to interact with someone who knew the real Max before the Conclave; and 4) all the angst that comes from realizing you were once the type of person you now absolutely hate and would still be that person if not for the amnesia that made you who you are now.

Because Domitian Parthalan was, before The Conclave, one of the worst Tevinter had to offer - cruel, power-hungry, and sadistic but in a handsome, charming, educated, well-bred way that makes me think of Hannibal Lecter. Blood magic, naturally, and lots of magical skill in general, but a wide knowledge of art and literature that makes him that much more cultured than the Tevinter Magister stereotype. Silver-tongued. Apex predator. (This should come across even when he has amnesia, always with the companions adding it's good you're on our side.)

So yeah, in retrospect I think I mashed together Revan's story arc from KotOR with my current Dorian/Inquisitor obsession... but I'd kill to see this now that I've thought of it. If you do adopt this bun, please let me know - I'm dying to see.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da:i #dorian x inquisitor #mage inquisitor #inquisitor trevelyan #amnesia #dorian pavus #nature vs nurture #dragon age: inquisition

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the-scheme-system · 2 years

Text

Don’t Wander into the Wolf’s Den…

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Well, I haven’t posted any actual content in over a month. That’s great. Anyway here’s the most depraved shit my fucked up horny brain can think of.

This fic includes: Dom! Alpha! Werewolf-like male, Sub! Omega! Human male

Warnings: uh, everything?

No but seriously, warnings for: Dubious Consent*, unwanted pregnancy, aggression, violence, kidnapping?, rut/mating (as in, actual mating), forced claiming, very slight bondage, crying, threatening, humiliation?, degradation, lying, captivity

*life or death situation

READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING

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18+ ONLY, CISHETS DNI

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And uh, to my irl friend who follows me, I’m sorry lmao. You specifically are being warned.

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Ever since he was little his grandmother had told him that there was one rule he must always follow: under no circumstances, never, for any reason, should he wander into or even get close to the cave near the edge of town. This was a rule he always followed, as he was instructed. Everyone avoided the cave, not a single villager dared to get within 30 feet. That’s why it was such an exciting idea. I mean, what rebellious young adult wouldn’t want to break the only rule they ever had? Surely all the stories of the wolf man was just there to scare them, after all wolf or no wolf going into an uncharted cave isn’t exactly a good idea. But children would never listen to logic, so clearly the adults just told that story because they knew the youth would listen to it. Right?

I guess we should start with why he would be there in the first place. You see, he had been out in the forest picking berries when it started to rain lightly. The drizzle, however, quickly turned into a storm. The winds so powerful that he was almost knocked over multiple times as he struggled back towards the village. Just as the exit of the tree line came into view, so did the cave. That’s odd, he could’ve sworn he was much farther away than this. He must’ve been pretty disoriented by the thick, pelting rain. He stops momentarily, holding onto a tree to steady himself. His basket of berries gripped tightly in his fist. He had a choice to make. Would he be able to get back to grandmothers safely and before the storm became worse? It was picking up by the second, and he seriously weighed his other option.

He sighed, “cave it is”

And slowly approaches the entrance.

There was something exciting about doing the only thing he had ever been forbidden from doing. His timid footsteps approach the cave, rain soaking him entirely. He peeks inside but predictably can’t see anything. He ducks in.

He sits down on the cold rock, shivering slightly and trying to figure out what to do from here. He takes a deep breath and relaxes for a moment. But the hair on the back of his neck stands up and suddenly a wave of dread washes over him, he feels that he shouldn’t be here, but it’s far too late when he feels the hot breath on his neck.

Before he can react, his mouth is covered and he’s pulled into the darkness.

He screams, but of course it’s muffled. He kicks and flails, struggling against the impossibly strong grip. That is until a spine chilling growl paralyzes him in fear.

He tenses up, weakly pulling against the grip as he realizes the mistake he’s made.

He closes his eyes tightly, preparing for whatever may happen next. He’s dragged into a room inside the cave, the complete darkness somehow getting darker. His mouth is uncovered but he remains silent, tears starting to drip down his face. The harsh grip moves to his arm, nails digging in as he feels something cold touch his flesh. He realizes in a second and tries to squirm away, but is only met with a harsher grip and an aggressive growl. The metal is locked around his wrist, and he starts to realize how much trouble he’s in.

His assailant laughs, sorta. A deep, snarling laugh that simultaneously scares and demeans him.

“So..” the gruff voice asks

It.. can talk?

He stays silent

“Well, can’t you speak?”

More silence

He snarls and grips his arm again, digging his claws in deep. The young man cries out

“Yes! I can speak!”

The beast laughs again

“Oh? Then why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here? In MY cave.”

He’s silent again, that is until the claws dig deeper.

“I just wanted to get out of the rain!” He sobs

“Likely story” he trails a claw up his arm “but I don’t believe you.”

“W-what?”

“I don’t believe you.” The beast says. “I have no reason to believe you”

He’s silent again

“In fact, it seems like you were waiting for an excuse to come in here”

A jolt of fear mixed with confusion shoots through him

“What? No-I-“

“Hush”

He does

“I don’t want your excuses, human. I’ve seen you outside before. I’ve seen you gaze into this darkness, fighting the urge to come in. Well, you saw your chance and took it. Isn’t that right?”

He gulps

“So it is.” He clears his throat “well, what do I get out of this?”

“Excuse me?”

“Where’s my end of the deal? Your curiosity is sated, you know what lies within now. And yet I get nothing from this. Really it’s a shame, annoying even. Humans only think about themselves. It never crossed your mind that I avoided you just as much as you avoided me, did it? You didn’t even think about who or what you would be disturbing, or how upset they would be about it.”

His blood runs cold

No, he hadn’t thought of that. Clearly he should’ve.

The beast sighs “well, I’m not letting you leave without giving me something in return.”

He shivers, but has an idea

“Well, I was in the woods to pick some berries. If you let me go they’re all yours”

He laughs again

“Foolish boy, they’re already mine. I simply allow you to harvest them, if I wanted berries I would get them myself.”

Oh, well that didn’t work.

“Hmm.. I have an idea of how you can repay me” he runs his claws over his arm again, blood starting to appear from the earlier grip.

He hesitates “h-how..?”

He can’t see it, but the beast grins…

“You’ll see soon enough”

He gasps, trying to wiggle away as the claw hooks onto his tunic

“Silly boy, we need to get off these wet clothes. You don’t want to freeze, do you?”

He rips the fabric easily, tearing through the wool fibers shielding him. He laughs again at his reaction, teasingly dragging his claws down his chest before hooking the top of his trousers.

“Wait-“

But it’s too late, the fabric is tearing away before he can stop it. Not that he could’ve stopped it, anyway.

He whimpers, feeling even colder now as his damp skin is exposed.

“Now, we need to warm you up. I have a few ideas, and lucky for you this would also count as my… payment” his voice gets even deeper at the last part.

The boy looks at where he thinks the beast is, still completely blind in the intrusive void.

“Um, what would that be?”

The beast chuckles, dragging his claws lower.

“Oh, dear… you don’t know? It’s spring”

He’s confused for a moment before his eyes widen, shaking his head and trying to twist the shackle off.

He chuckles even lower

“I’m going to have some fun with you, human.”

He tries to escape, whining and crying as he struggles. The beast watches in amusement for a few moments, before growing impatient and pinning him down harshly.

“You have two options: I have my way with you and you get to leave, or you get to be my next meal. Which will it be?”

He gasps, everything becoming too real all at once. Why did he have to come in here?!

He’s silent for a moment

“The-the first one” his voice breaks.

He laughs darkly, “good choice…”

The beast looms over him, hot breath fanning against his face. His body radiates heat, a harsh musky smell filling his senses. He struggles again, weaker now. Trying desperately to distract himself, trying to avoid letting himself fall into a daze.

“You know, I’m being nice by trying to get you ready. I could always just go for it. You should at least take what little mercy I’m giving you.”

He cries weakly, knowing he can’t escape this. He decides to take the advice. He may as well make this easier on himself.

The second he relaxes his guard the pheromones flood his mind. Invading his brain and body and engulfing him in a strangely comforting warmth. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

The wolf senses his submission, smiling down at his perfect prey.

The grip on his hips is what draws him back to reality. Head swimming, mind fuzzy. But the grip is the least of his concern when he felt the beast press into him.

The pheromones have prepared him well, it doesn’t even hurt as he pushes inside.

The wolf doesn’t give him any time to get used to it, even if he had needed it. In seconds he’s thrusting into him deeply, growling and gripping his body harder.

He cries out again, both fear and disgust; but both are overshadowed by an unnatural draw towards the feeling. He likes it. He hates that he likes it. He closes his eyes again.

The boy tries to distract himself but nothing could help him escape the overwhelming situation. He struggles again, trying so hard to pretend he isn’t enjoying it. The beast’s body presses against him heavily, hot pants and sharp claws covering his torso and neck. He growls, deep, bellowing, as his thrusts become even harsher. Fast but deep, the sound just added to the force. There was no way to avoid the reality, and he started to accept it.

The wolf notices and laughs again “there you go, dear. After all you’re the one who chose this”

The words cut deep and he whines again, “you didn’t give me much of a choice”

The beast grips his shoulders and slams him against the ground, knocking his breath out. “I will happily go through with the other option, bitch.”

He starts thrusting again, much more viciously, with absolutely no regard for his mate. The boy starts crying harder, sobbing as the wolf starts clawing against his sides and chest. Long, deep scratches that quickly start to bleed. He cries more at the pain, wondering why it had to be him.

“Don’t lie to me,” he pants, thrusts becoming erratic “you love this, your body loves this”

He cries again, choking and stuttering, body convulsing every time he pushes back in.

The beast doesn’t bother taking his time to savor it, in all honesty the only reason he’s doing this is because he has to. Spring is such an annoying time, instinct overwhelming actual desires. If he could have his way this would be another wolf, but that’s not how it worked out. So a human will have to do, and it’s surprisingly satisfying. With another wolf you have to worry about actually courting them, this human just wandered right in. An easy target for his pent up hormones. Maybe it’s good that it worked out this way.

Snapping back to reality, the wolf starts to slow a bit. Thrusts becoming less about the power he had over his partner and more about the pressure building up. His mind was swimming with possibilities of how this would end. He had promised the boy he could leave when he was done, but wolves are notorious for lying to get what they want.

In a moment, many things happen at once. The boy stiffens, body reacting to the beast’s. He digs his claws in, forcing the knotted base to push inside of his captive’s body. With one more harsh thrust he’s filling him, and before he can think about it his teeth sink into the tender flesh of the boy’s neck. He cries out at the pain, the sudden rush of his own hormones pushing him over the edge and into the most humiliating orgasm of his life.

The wolf stills

He pants harshly, aftershocks running through his abdomen, small pumps of semen shooting out with every one. He doesn’t try to pull out, not that he would be able to anyway.

The boy looks to the side, seeing stars in the blackness. Whimpering quietly as his body gives out.

He comes to hours later, still chained inside the cave. He whips his head around, still unable to see.

The beast looks over at him “oh, you’re awake” he was laying off to the side, voice echoing around the room.

“Um, I get to leave now, right?” He asks, timidly

“Oh, about that” he stands up and walks over to him, kneeling down and looking over his face

“Funny you mention that, you can leave, sure. I’ll unchain you myself. But you’ll come back. I bit you, everyone will know what happened. And even if that doesn’t change anything, it’s spring like I said. Our bodies have done what they’re supposed to do, I can smell it on you.”

He freezes

“W-what?!”

The wolf laughs “your scent has changed. The human nose isn’t strong enough to pick up on it, but mine is. How should I put this-“ he pauses “well, let’s just say the next nine months will be very interesting.”

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Hmm… yeah, I should seek therapy.

If you find any errors or typos let me know, I’ve proof read this multiple times but probably still missed a few.

#your liege #nsft mlm #omegaverse #werewolf #werewolf x human #primal kink #monster fudger #alpha #omega #alpha beta omega #primal beast #this is… a lot

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

Note

I want to read your Chrissy/Nancy fic but I’ve been kind of wary because it’s tagged for ed mentions (understandable, since it’s Chrissy) and typically that’s a big no for me, but I’m wondering how strong of a theme is it? Does it get graphic? Is it easy to skim the parts that mention it without missing too much of the story?

Thanks

that's a totally reasonable wariness to have dude and I'm glad you asked.

I would say it's a present but not overwhelming theme in the sense that both girls are getting pretty thoroughly Character Studied, but it's mostly a predetermined fact of her past that's rarely mentioned for more than a couple sentences at a time. It does however get implications/ references scattered throughout.

it never gets more graphic than it does on the show (and only that graphic once in a direct reference to that scene for about a sentence or 2) and more serves as a point of comparison for how Chrissy has changed not just physically (specifically re: vampire traits) but how her thought processes have changed too, which includes a shedding of shame in this regard.

Nobody is intentionally engaging in disordered eating behaviors in the fic outside of brief ruminations on the past, but that being said, the new sorts of hunger that she experiences and the way it's different from being hungry as a human are discussed here and there as she and Nancy both try and figure out what exactly it is she needs to feel at full strength. The first couple of parts have more of an emphasis on this than the rest because she's learning a brand new physiology, but once they know what she needs, she gets it.

The helpful thing about this fic's chapters being their own individual fics on ao3 also means there are tags for each one, so if it's not in the tags on a specific "part" you can be sure it's not in there at all (mostly the Nancy POVs which is about half of them)

Ultimately, Chrissy's arc is about leaving behind a lot of the boxes she (and others) put her into while she was still alive and allowing herself a freedom in death that she's never known before, so any mentions of past ED end up framed within that eventually, but I also completely understand if any of the above mentioned is still too heavy a theme and appreciate you asking for clarification💜

#I tried to be thorough so hopefully this makes sense and helps you make a more informed decision #most of the mentions are there for the sake of metaphorical turns of phrase and are generally pretty skimmable but I also want to be clear #that this /is/ definitely a character study which means Chrissy's POV is going to reflect on her past sometimes #especially early on when she's still becoming comfortable in her new skin #if any of this is still confusing though let me know! I realize my tendency to just go on about things fjksldf #kas!chrissy au #ask

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desolateice · 2 years

Text

asked by @youandthemountains on my other account. Figured I’d answer it here since it’s all fic related. For the fanfic writer emoji ask : 🛒⛔🍦🧐🦅🤩 🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc. Food. When I first started writing fan fic I wanted to be able to keep my files separate in an easy way and wanted a clear line between what was my original work and what wasn't. So ever single fanfic I've written has a food related title and that food generally makes an appearance in the fic. There's also sometimes mixed in with the cute fluff and romance is a dash of horror and a big scoopful of angst. A lot of the CK ones are about lonliness and friendship and the bonds we have with people and loss. Lots of loss. Life sucker punched me within the last year which is why I think CK and TKK sunk their claws in and I haven't escaped yet. Also a love for the mundane and rest. Which I'm like 70% sure the friend I'm going to chat with this weekend will yell at me to do. 😅 If we're adding original work to the mix I'd say flowers and cooking and books and magic. A love for plants and just kindness. I just like the idea of how a small act of kindness can have a massive ripple effect. Also as I look back over my writing uh we've got trauma and more loss and trying to figure one's self out. ⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped? (Shoves all my original works under a rug including my thesis) uh no? Yes? A long long time ago I thought about writing an HP fic and just gave up after like a page. But it never got posted. I like chatting about fic ideas I have no plan to write on discord. Because it's a chance to just get that plot bunny out of my head. I have notes for a one offs called Konpeito Cocktail and Spicy California Roll that are continuations but just...E rated that I don't think I'll actually publish because it just feels weird to publish a continuation of something that's relatively sweet and wholesome and just jump fic ratings to something that's not....💀 Also I'm not really sure I'm up for jumping to E. Which is one of the reasons Root Beer Floats and Green Tea is M. (The other reason is that I feel like the people who usually go for E rated fics would not want to wait a couple hundred chapters to get to that E rating) So ones people have seen no. Ones hidden away on my drive and in my files...yes. 🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far? ah...um... great question. California Roll? Frozen fish stick that wants and needs to cuddle for warmth. Dozens of ruined sweaters. Konpeito? Daniel's maybe my favorite curious explorer in that one with lots of love. Root Beer Floats and Green Tea? The wingmen Cobras and their relationships with Johnny. Johnny and Laura. The cobras and Daniel in New York. There was more than one bed but they're still going to share. Johnny and his bonsai. Mr. Miyagi secretly teaching Johnny and taking him in and kind of unofficially officially adopting him. Laura and Lucille being BFF's. The Cobras and Jessica. Johnny suffering through a tea ceremony while Kumiko and Daniel are just very sweet to him but he's so confused. Chozen's massive crush on Johnny. Lavender cookies. Welcome to the family sweaters. Fairygodmother Dutch. Daniel making sure Johnny doesn't burn in the sun. Pride and Prejudice. Every sweet ever made at the Brown's house. Cobras that share your bed even if it upsets whoever else is supposed to be in your bed and learning to just live with it. Found Family that shows up. Bouquets and the meaning behind flowers. Cooking for the people you love. Spending every last cent on the person you've got a crush on. Laura adopting the cobras, and Daniel. Laura and her heart to hearts. Polaroids. I could go on. 🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories? So much. Way too much. Because Root Beer Floats and Green tea is set from the first movie onward I've researched Japanese fashion in the 80's, Okinawan fashion trends in the 80's, make up from the 80's, expensive chocolate brands from the 80's, more recipes then anyone should ever research for one story. Movie's from the 80's that were showing at the specific times and dates. Broadway musicals that were shown during that time. What hotels and restaurants and chains existed during that time. Book publishing releases (Made a whoops with Howl's Moving Castle later on, fixed it with the librarian giving him a advanced copy) Music from those specific years. Travel routes, road trip routes. Mapping and maps so I knew how far away the guys were and how long road trips were. Camping and camping rules for specific parks, which places you can camp at. A lot of deep dives into places I haven't been and things in that area and whether they existed back then or not. Food in those places. Festivals, cross-referenced if they existed back then, travel itineraries. Lots of Italian, Mexican, Japanese and Okinawan stuff. For Konpeito I did a lot of planet research and definition and linguistics research. Also what kids books existed back then and mall food research for the 80s and some more fashion. For California Roll I researched some marine stuff and a lot of different lore around the world and then lots of mapping. I really wanted Johnny to swim home but there was no way. There weren't any direct rivers from one end of the continent to the other. Not that I could easily find on the maps I was looking at. 🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? Mix. I apparently do something called garden pathing. So I usually have an idea of what scenes I want to do and include and then go back and fill in the path between the big lots through the garden. Often I'll leave myself little [brackets like this and say something like add in plot point and whatever notes I have] in that bracket and then move on to whatever is pulling me to write. Then later me has to go back in and fill those out. Normally it's fine but oh boy Root Beer Floats and green tea I had to take out some of my path stepping stones because otherwise you'd never get the end of this fic. 🤩 Who is your favorite character to write? It depends on the scene and the fic. Generally I want to say Johnny. For Konpeito it's Daniel hands down with a second for Ali. I love them lovingly bullying Johnny about being a black belt and not caring about it. Like yes yes very strong we've got bigger things to worry about. For California Roll I loved writing Daniel and Lucille and Judy was a fun addition. Johnny was fun to write there too but he's a frozen fish stick with a broken heart 90% of the time just out there being a menace to sweaters. For Root Beer Floats and Green Tea it's really hard. I love Johnny and Daniel. I love their relationship with Mr. Miyagi and everyone. But I think the Cobras steal the spotlight whenever I least expect it. From the the emoji’s ask here.

#asks #thank you #long post #writing asks

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fozmeadows · 3 years

Text

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.

#race #racism #c-drama #fandom #fan wank #fandom wank #microaggresions #culture #the untamed #bronies #whiteness #ficwriting #fanwriting #cultural bias #discourse

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sammygvfslut · 3 years

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i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now.

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other.

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta / @flowervanfleet / @dharma-divine

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

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fanficlibraryposts · 3 years

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Percy Jackson Fic Recs

who even cares about reputation? by rubiesanddiamonds

She decides she really likes his laugh. And his voice. And his general aura. A lot.

*punk!percy and girly!annabeth*

what’s a god to a nonbeliever? by Almas

It’s not that he’s “hung up on The Menace” as Dionysus so delicately put it. It’s just that it’s a bad idea. Awful, really. Percy Jackson’s got off-limits stamped across his pretty little forehead. If Zeus had sent Dionysus to that demigod camp over a nymph, then Poseidon would certainly toss him into Tartarus if he went near his son.

*on hiatus*

To Make a Legend by WardofWinters (QoLife)

Percy was having a normal day at the beach, until he decided to try to waterbend like Katara from his favorite show.Problem is, he succeeds. Now he has to figure out how to waterbend, and keep the normal people from finding out they have a waterbender in their midst.Finding out he's actually a child of Poseidon will probably explain a few things. (Used to be named Avatar: The Legend of Percy)

*Is a series, should have at least have basic Avatar: The Last Airbender knowledge*

Silver Screen by herecomesthepun

in which Annabeth is a YouTuber with a penchant for Harry Potter sweaters and Percy is a rockstar who falls in love with the clumsy web star presenting his award. Percabeth, AU.

Of Gods and Men by plottingalong

The order of things are changing. Old rules are shifting, old gods awakening. Percy Jackson must come to terms with his own mortality, or rather, the lack of it.

And I will swallow my pride (In hopes of a final goodbye) by IzzyMRDB

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep." ~Robert Frost

Rhea thought the fight was over when she handed Luke that blade. The war she fought for others was over. She was wrong. Now a thousand miles and a thousand years from home, all alone with just the ghost of a curse to accompany her in her travels, she will only fight for the wars she chooses.

"I promise." It tastes like a lie, but I know I’ll do my best to fulfill it. How am I to make the gods listen when they don’t even know who I am?

Hold Tight and Pretend It’s a Plan by Rynna_Aurelia

Olympus has fallen. The second Gigantomachy has ended far differently than the first, and in Gaea's triumph, the world has been torn apart. But the Fates have seen what ends their failed meddling brought Western Civilization, look on at the dead—and undo what should never have happened the only way they possibly can. Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, is returned to his twelve-year-old self, memories intact and determined to save everyone he can. But he is not alone. The Moirai underestimated the strength of the Lord of Time when stealing his power, and there is something about this particular demigod brat that intrigues him. . .

Perseus Jackson came roaring to life with a violent gasp, green eyes wild. After a moment of panicked flailing and struggling to breathe, his fear-filled gaze settled upon a girl with blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, her face stern and unimpressed.

"You drool in your sleep."

Trading Tomorrow by Darkmagyk, loosingletters

Percy Jackson arrives at Camp Half-Blood bruised and bleeding, with the knowledge that he's the son of a god and his mother is dead. His little display with the Minotaur has caught the attention of the camp. But he’s not sure it is good attention, yet. Only the Hermes Cabin's not-quite Co-counselor Theseus, ‘call me Theo,’ doesn't treat him like a fascinating zoo exhibit. Which would be a relief, except he looks exactly like Percy: same green eyes, same trouble making smile, same black hair. The only differences are the fact that Theo is six years older, covered in battle scars, and the black tattoo on his arm. A trident and the letters SPQR.

Theo is eighteen, powerful, and unclaimed. And his resemblance to Percy could set a dangerous precedent.

*pretty much everything by Darkmagyk is amazing*

i could be your hero by sundaysabotage

“I just don’t get it,” he huffs to Will as they put up holiday decorations in the unusually quiet infirmary, “they talk to me like I’m supposed to know stuff. Like I’m the new Percy or something.” Nico expects Will to laugh at this, shrug off his concerns as unfounded and tell him he’s being over-dramatic like usual. He is wrong.

“Okay, babe, don’t take this the wrong way. But, you kind of are the new Percy.”

___ Based on a tumblr post I made about Nico being the obvious choice as Camp Half-Blood's unofficial leader when Percy leaves for college. (only no one bothers to tell Nico that)

*some solangelo and Nico being Tired(TM) for you*

Were I That Burning Star by californianNostalgia

An old panic gripped me—the breathless fear of being forgotten, being lost. Would anyone remember me when I was gone? Would someone think to lay a flower down on my grave and say some fond nothings like, “Was a pretty cool guy, that Lester,” while wiping off a single dramatic tear rolling down their cheek? Oh, who was I kidding. So what if no one remembered? There wasn’t much I was proud to be remembered by anyway.

After defeating Python and bringing down Nero, Phoebus Apollo reclaims his godhood. He is glorious once more. But for some reason, he can't quite make himself go back to how things were before.

(A Character Study of Various Gods, including but not limited to: Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and maybe Zeus)

* absolutely beautiful, very philosophical, made me see the gods in a completely different way*

PJO Fic Rec Part 2

Disclaimer: The fanfiction above were not written by me for I am not nearly as creative. However, I am an avid reader and movie buff so these are some of my favorite fanfiction within the fandom. I politely ask that you read the tags attached the fanfiction beforehand so that you know what you are getting yourself into, there may be crossovers. If you don’t like it then don’t read it. In addition, I ask that there be no bashing, the fics are based on my preferences and what I like. Lastly, if there are any specific genre or fandom of fics you want me to get into let me know through my ask box.

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megumitski · 3 years

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hi hi this is just something to track all the hq fics i’ve read recently! this really seemed like a lot when i was putting this together but most of them are less than 15k. this has a LOT of kagehina, plus some kuroken, bokuaka, iwaoi, tsukiyama, and a few other random pairings. favorites are marked with a ✨!

KAGEHINA

✨ his weight in marigolds - karasuno013 (11k)

Tobio imagined that the petals were soft, orange, perpetually messy locks of hair, and his fist clenched around the bud involuntarily.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Please Kiss Him Instead! - Bird_Of_Dreams (6k)

Recently, Kageyama has been receiving what appears to be countless confession letters. The Karasuno volleyball team reacts appropriately with surprise, jealousy, and bemusement (depending on who you ask). But no one is more surprised than Hinata, who is confused and more than a little hurt that Kageyama never told him about them. But is that the real reason behind his conflicted feelings?

As It Should Be - gghostnebula (7k)

Based on a request I saw on Tumblr that someone send fanfics where "Hinata is bullied without the team knowing and then they find out." I like the idea of everyone (including Tsukishima) enraged and vengeful. So I. Did that. I'm so sorry. I'm also really really sorry that the 'ungrateful second-years' aren't really in this because I wanted them to be but I couldn't find a good place for them, since this focuses so much on just Kageyama and Hinata.

Five Plus One - Xachyn (1k)

Five times other people thought they were dating and one time Kageyama wondered if they were.

The Crown and The Crow - Yuu_chi (9k)

Somewhere out there is your forever one wearing your Mark on their skin; it's just a matter of finding them.

✨ In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments (5k)

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

four times hinata and kageyama almost kiss (and one time they do) - spaceburgers (2k)

When it happens, it’s not romantic. Things between them have never been romantic, after all. They’re too stupid for that.

spoiled - buu (2k)

It's the Kageyama that gently takes Hinata's hand when they're walking together, or rests his head on the top of Hinata's when they're watching TV, or pulls Hinata into his lap when he complains about being cold. Hinata struggles at first, confused and thinking Kageyama's making fun of him or something, but he slowly starts to realize that, beyond all belief, Kageyama is the Doting type.

Thaw - peppermint_wind (40k)

Kageyama Tobio just wants to get through the day. He hates winter, he hates most people, and he really hates getting up for an 8:00AM class. That's when Hinata Shouyou, bright and obnoxious, literally comes running into his life at full-throttle and changes everything Kageyama thought he knew.

Basically, the College AU where Hinata and Kageyama meet by Hinata literally knocking into him and spilling hot coffee all down Kageyama's clothes.

touch - buu (3k)

Hinata doesn't notice it at first, really. It's small things, natural things, like when they sit together at lunch and Hinata ends up hooking his ankle over Kageyama's and he doesn't move away; in fact, he seems to not notice it, and go on eating his lunch like nothing's different.

✨ Routine - someonestolemyshoes (29k)

Kageyama Tobio has a routine. Up, shower, dress, breakfast, classes, practice, work, dinner, laptop, show time. Hinata is a well-known cam boy, and Kageyama is his biggest fan.

✨ Acceptable Risk - Mysecretfanmoments (46k)

Tobio braced himself and stood, gathering Hinata’s warm body close. Hinata’s weight settled against him, strengthening the impression he always had at these times: that he was collecting a part of himself, severed by some weird circumstance. In these moments he couldn’t help feeling that Hinata belonged to him, and as long as he didn’t talk about the impression out loud it harmed no one. As it was Hinata mumbled a little, curling into him the way he’d anticipated.

(Kageyama and Hinata navigate living together at university while not dating. It's hard—the not-dating part, that is.)

hot - buu (6k)

Hinata should not be this hot. Kageyama shouldn't find his short stature attractive, shouldn't have problems with his eyes lingering a little too long on Hinata's smaller frame, the way his shirts hang just a little too big on him sometimes.

Oh God - orphan_account (6k)

No, class distinction had never held much meaning for Kageyama. Until the day he met Hinata. One-shot Omegaverse! AU. Smut is heavily present within this story. Mostly PWP, but there's plot, if you squint.

operation: find out if hinata has a hot bod - day (2k)

Kiyoko compliments Hinata's body. It turns into a chaotic mess where the team (aka Tanaka and Nishinoya) tries everything in their power to get a glimpse of Hinata shirtless.

Hinata is oblivious and Kageyama is stressed out.

well, maybe i’m a crook - aruariandance (7k)

The thing is-- Hinata is in love with Kageyama and everyone knows it, including Kageyama.

5 times Kageyama purred + 1 time he didn’t - orphan_account (3k)

No one at Karasuno had ever heard Kageyama purr, but that was normal. He wasn't exactly the most expressive on the team, and no one really minded.

Hurt - someonestolemyshoes (27k)

It’s alarming, Kageyama thinks, how quickly things can go downhill.

One minute Hinata is fine, at the top of his game, spiking left and right and everywhere in between and the next he is crumpled in a limp, lifeless heap on the gym floor and the resounding crack of his head hitting the wood is still echoing in Kageyama’s ears.

knock knock - writedeku (6k)

“I don’t need telepathy to win,” is the first thing he says; nearly shouts it, to be precise. “We can play it without me being linked.”

One by one, the teambonding practises stop as they all turn to Kageyama to gape. Play volleyball without telepathy? It’s not that it’s not possible, but that would put them at such a major disadvantage it’d be like having a team full of one-sided Kageyamas.

the hedgehog’s dilemma - drunkonwritting (17k)

So when he comes to Karasuno, Tobio expects more of the same. He won't make the same mistakes again, but he doubts anyone on the team will like him—Tobio's grown used to his solitary existence, to the point where he can't imagine what it's like to have people around all the time, people who actually want to spend time with him outside of school or practice. He's resigned himself to being alone, because no one in his life has ever decided they want to get to know him or spend time with him or even like him as more than a casual acquaintance. Tobio's tried time and time again to change that and failed over and over—he doubts it's going to change anytime soon.

But when he sees that orange-haired shrimp staring at him from the gym doors, eyes wide and betrayed, he feels a vague sense of premonition.

Don’t Make Me Walk When I Want to Fly - MissKiraBlue (24k)

"I don't want to leave without an apology"

After Hinata rushed from their fight he ended up in a car accident.

But when he wakes up he's not dead and he's not in a hospital either.

Hinata has to live the same day – the day when he and Kageyama fought – over and over again until he finds a solution where he could get out of the time loop.

he may suck at beer pong but he slam dunked my heart - Authoress (9k)

After a while, Kageyama kind of just...forgets how angry the floral snapback makes him. It becomes a companion, almost. It's seen him through many a late library study session, through feeding planaria and wrestling bean beetles into petri dishes. He feels something close to affection for the ever-present hat.

Oh no, Kageyama thinks. I'm attracted to a douchebag.

(The AU where struggling college student Kageyama meets and very unfortunately falls in love with his frat boy lab partner, Hinata.)

room to grow - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it.

Dare - majesticartax (10k)

“W-wait! Kageyama! What—hold on!” Hinata cries, kicking his legs, flipping around in his setter's strong arms and struggling uselessly, scrambling.

“Can’t we talk about this!?”

Wish You Would - longleggedgit (7k)

The title of this document was just jealouskageyama.docx so that pretty much tells you what to expect.

"If you don't want me to go out with him," Hinata says, lifting his eyes to meet Kageyama's, "then give me a reason not to."

Right Here All The Time - longleggedgit (5k)

"You were flirting," Kageyama says, sounding bewildered, almost accusatory. His chest is heaving under Hinata's hands.

Hinata laughs. "Yeah, and it worked."

Immolate - Marks (2k)

Kageyama balls his hands into fists at his sides and grits his teeth as want builds up in his stomach and sets up camp. It's not the first time he's felt like this around Hinata, but it's the worst every time and he wishes he could just will it away.

come on closer - skeletalparade (6k)

Kageyama shifted uncomfortably on the bench, fingernails scraping against the plastic of his water bottle. He was trying so hard not to stare at Hinata, but it was difficult. Hinata was a good vice captain, but he was ruining Kageyama’s life.

2-Player Mode - medea_azyungele (5k)

Are you ugly or something?" Hinata asks, with his usual lack of tact.

"Oi, dumbass! I'll let you know that-" but he couldn't finish because Hinata interrupts him: "Let's turn on the webcams!"

Suddenly, a square icon pops up in a corner of his monitor.

Oh no he's hot.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments (75k)

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

a first time for everything - Mysecretfanmoments (4k)

He rolls away from Shouyou, his breathing just a little fast. His body has been weird today, more like when they first started dating. It happens sometimes—mostly when they’ve been on the court together, or they haven’t had time alone—but it feels just a bit different than usual.

((Kageyama bottoms for the first time. established relationship, iltwycs-verse but can stand alone.))

✨ Color Theory - kageyamz (41k)

That’s right, he thinks I’m straight. Kageyama sighed in relief at the answer then tensed up, the gears turning in his brain. Wait, I am straight, right? Kageyama wants a simple time at university, but life has other plans for him.

cheater, cheater (pumpkin eater) - teddy_or_something (7k)

Closets hold many things, one of which being skeletons. In Hinata's case, there was a person where there should've been a vibrator, and that was definitely enough to wilt his erection.

Song fic to Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by P!ATD.

✨ change in pressure - viscreal (37k)

Kageyama couldn’t for the life of him guess what he’d been doing to get so goddamn beat up, but it was there, and the guy wasn’t even taking care of any of it. The pain was making it hard to concentrate during class, making it hard to think at all, and that plus the boy’s overenthusiastic emotions were putting Kageyama in a particularly sour mood, so he really couldn’t be blamed when he snapped something sarcastic at the teacher and got detention in response.

alternatively titled: in which kageyama, an empath whos still just as socially inept as ever, ends up having a gay crisis because hinata cant stop getting hurt.

seventy-thirty - viscreal (4k)

Hinata was the first one to bring it up.

KUROKEN

reddit boyfriends - NeverNothing (4k)

Lev goes on reddit to talk about his senpais and accidentally goes viral. Yaku helps.

✨ you’re the break lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot (15k)

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

✨ the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony (31k)

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

✨ Best Friends - Mysecretfanmoments (6k)

Every evening they walk home together, Kuro smelling of salt and suntan lotion, Kenma’s hands sore from scooping ice cream all day, and it feels nice. Peaceful.

He’s glad Kuro came, after all.

((During the two weeks he spends manning his uncle's ice cream booth on the coast, Kenma decides that maybe he likes his best friend back, after all))

BOKUAKA

tea-stained polaroids - dalyeau (6k)

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

cookies and cream - norio (6k)

Some people might tell Akaashi that he couldn't bake his worries away.

But some people haven't dated Bokuto Koutarou.

Komorebi - OwlBeDamned (8k)

When his thirteenth birthday comes, Akaashi should be elated.

Instead, he is worried.

"WWOOOAH, YOU HAVE GOT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I HAVE EVER SEEN - NO, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING THE WORLD HAS EVER BEEN BLESSED WITH...CAN I TOUCH YOU?!"

✨ Upstairs - yoogiboobi (16k)

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.

steam - orphan_account (8k)

bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

heavy heart, a love apart - drifloon (7k)

(802): Our sex has gotten so much better since we broke up.

IWAOI

✨ It’s Tradition - MelissaWritesStuff (4k)

Every year, without fail, on Oikawa's birthday, Oikawa has somehow gotten a kiss out of Iwaizumi.

lips like sugar - ohhotlamb (8k)

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

darlin’, your head’s not right - aruariandance (14k)

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

✨ Bet On It - originalblue (13k)

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Something Borrowed - rageprufrock (16k)

In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

The PDA jar - orphan_account (10k)

“What is that thing for?”

“I’m glad you asked, captain. This… is the Public Display of Affection jar. Or PDA jar for short.”

“Now whenever you do something that may hurt our children’s innocence, you’ll have to put money in the jar as a punishment."

✨ stumble into the sun - sunsmasher (4k)

“So,” Hajime says, as he peels off his uniform shirt, letting it fall on top of his gym bag. “Have you guys ever heard of like, someone being turned on by people saying nice things to them?”

Matsukawa slams his locker shut. “Oh my god,” he says.

by chance - crossbelladonna (62k)

When Iwaizumi Hajime meets Oikawa Tooru, suddenly everything bursts into color. The only problem is that for the other, it doesnt seem to happen the same way.

the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate au

TSUKKIYAMA

by any other name - parenthetic (5k)

A Concise Guide to Dealing with People Asking if your Best Friend and/or Crush is Single:

Panic Lie Run

Do you see what I see? - honeydragon (1k)

Three times Tsukishima wonders what colour Yamaguchi's eyes are, and the one time he finds out.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw (2k)

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team. No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.” Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

Baby, this is how it all goes down - psych0tastic (7k)

In the midst of revising for a class test over at Yamaguchi’s place one night, Tsukki suddenly spoke up and said, “I'd like to bottom the next time we have sex."

OTHER

Rewards Program - surveycorpsjean (8k) - bokuroaka

Akaashi enjoys his normal life, as a normal grocery checker, at a normal grocery store.

Of course, it all goes up in flames when two hot as hell college kids dump their items on the conveyor belt.

Donuts. Glue. Donut holes.

And that's only the beginning.

Edelweiss - ostentatiouslyrealistic (6k) - semi/tendou

Hanahaki Disease (n.) An illness bred from unrequited love, where the victim suffers from coughing up flower petals.

Sympathy From a Lost Boy - meraki_drabbles (11k) - ushiten

The figure was hollow-cheeked and gauntly, with prominent eyelids bulging out under thin raised eyebrows, casting a shadow over irises that Wakatoshi couldn't decide the colour of, but rather processed them as a strange mix of crimson and ruby and scarlet dripped against a mahogany canvas.

"Sorry, am I intruding?

#hq fic rec #fic rec #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic rec #bokuaka #kagehina #kuroken #iwaoi #tsukiyama

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raineydays411 · 3 years

Text

Oh, what am I supposed to do without you

Loki x daughter!reader

Summary: Loki thought he was in a good place. He was married, happy and having a child. He should’ve known the universe wasn’t that kind.

A/N: God I’m so sorry about this one lol. Not much of the reader but I will be making a second part. I hope yall like this one though. Inspiration came from “Mr, Loverman” and this fic.

Master list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silence was rattling. It creeped into the room, slowly,menacingly. Threatening to make him go mad. It wrapped around his body like a familiar friend. Making it hard for him to breath as it suffocated him. He knew they were staring at him. Trying to figure out what he would do next, whether he would break or not. Truthfully he didn’t know what he would do. For now he just starred as well. Not at them, of course not. He stared at the one thing that mattered. His reason for waking up and living. The one person in this entire universe who gave his world color. He reached out to touch her. Touch the hands that were always so warm against his cold skin. Hands that held his firm and sure as she pulled him along behind her, a smile on her beautiful face. Hands that were now cold and limp, the radicant glow she had been known for gone dark. The colors she brought to his world dimmed to dull, gre, muted hues. Then a sound broke through the silence. two sounds actually. One a wail of new life, a baby taking her first breaths, and another. A wail of a man who has lost everything. A wail of agony and pain.

As the healers bustled around him, Loki had only one thought in his head.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three months later and Loki still felt the emptiness left by his love. He heard her at night, humming sweet melodies as she stroked his hair. He hears her heartbeat as he eventually falls asleep, worn out by his constant tears. His room is in shambles, his clothes strewn about the floor, furniture smashed, everything is destroyed. Except for the things that belong to her. Her silk dresses that draped on her body perfectly were still hanging, untouched. The books she spent hours reading and re-reading remained on the shelf, collecting dust as they were no longer used. He doesn’t let anyone in their chambers. The space where they both shared. Space where they fought, made up, made love. To let someone else in would be tainting it. Soiling the memories they made together. That was one thing he could never do.

Another was look at the little monster who is responsible for this tragedy.

It was a girl. The daughter of one Loki Odinson and his beloved.

Ironic. This child was supposed to bring happiness with its birth. Not even cleaned and it already managed to take away Loki’s light. He can barely stand looking at it. He tried, of course he tried. But within minutes he had to call the nurse to take it away. Why?

Because she has her mothers eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Loki”

“Get out”

“Loki, it's been nine months since your child was--”

“THAT THING IS NO CHILD OF MINE”

Frigga was taken aback. She knew her son was heartbroken, devastated at the loss of his wife. But to disown his daughter, that was something she didn’t see coming.

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? My wife has died because if that creature--”

“It is a child. A babe who has no idea who her father nor her mother is.”

“And as far as I’m concerned she never will!” Loki shouts, finally looking up at his mother.

Frigga heart breaks for her son. She sees the utter agony he is in, the inner torment going on in his soul. Even if she didn’t see it in his face, the state of his room and self gives it away. He looks like he hasn’t bathed in the nine months that has passed. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled, hair unkempt and wild. His face was pale and hollow, as if he was only eating enough to survive. He had dark bags under his eyes that showed that he hasn’t been sleeping well. He truly was a man who was broken, almost beyond repair.

“My son” Frigga said carefully,” I can never understand the pain you are going through, I pray to Valhalla I will not have to anytime soon. But please if not for yourself or that child, for the memory of her, attempt to see your daughter before making a rash decision.” And with that, she walked out of his chamber, leaving Loki to the silence again as he stared at the spot his mother stood. considering her words, he got up. picked up his room, went to bathe and walked out of the room for the first time in nine months.

His face held no emotion as he walked down the hallways. He saw the servants stop and stare at him, shock filled their face as they saw the prince. He glared at them, sending them scurrying at the dark glance. He reached the nursery, the maid who oversaw the nursery tried to stop him.

“My lord, you--”

“Where is the child.” He said, calm and cool. The maid looked at him in fear, not knowing how to respond. At her silence, Loki scoffed and pushed her away, marching into the nursery. Upon entering he froze, memories of him and his beloved discussing the design they wanted for their child

**“Darling, why does the color shade matter? It’s not like the child has expectations.”

Laughter fills the air, “Loki, we must put every effort into showing our child they are loved. That includes finding the perfect shade of green to go with the room”

Loki looks at his wife, gently smiling.”If you say so my dear”**

The room was perfect. The walls were a beautiful shade of green that allowed the light into the room. There were vines and flowers crawling up the walls and draped over curtains. A white and gold crib stood in the middle of the chamber. A veil draped over it, preventing Loki from seeing the child inside. He was thankful as he worked up the courage to walk up to it. He looked out the window, seeing the stars that covered the sky, the lights of Asgard covering the earth.

She would have loved it.

He took a deep breath and walked toward the crib. He pulled back the veil only to see that there was no child in there.

“The babe is with your mother my lord.”

He turned to the maid. Embarrassed that she might have witnessed him reminiscing.

“And where is my mother” He asked

“In-in the dining hal--”

He walked away before she was able to finish her sentence. He took long strides to the hall, wondering his his mother had tricked him into eating with the family.On the way, he passed a window overlooking the garden. He thinks of the times where he used to sit in it and listen to her read.

*** “...exquisite, in question more. These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows”

“My love, why do you insist on reading these midgardian stories?”

Her laughter reaches his ears, “Because beloved, it's a different perspective to something familiar”

“Oh? and what is that ?”

“Love” ***

“oki--”

Hearing his name, Loki is brought back to present times once more. He looks to see Thor, watching him with careful eyes.

“Brother, it is wonderful to see you.”

“I wish I can say the same.”

Thor laughs, a soft chuckle compared to the booming laughter Loki knows he is capable of.

“Ah Loki, your dry wit has been missed”

Loki rolls his eyes and starts walking and Thor follows. The two walking in silence.

“What is it like?” Loki says softly. Thor looks at him in confusion.

“It?”

“The child.”

“Oh brother, Y/n is--”

“Y/n?”

That was the name she wanted. If they were to have a girl. She was determined, seeing the name in the book she loved to read. He remembers when they were telling his family she was with child.

*** Everyone was seated, servants bustling around the long table. Laughter filled the hall as the sun was setting.

“Loki, you said you had news to tell us” Frigga said, taking a sip of her wine.

Loki smiled, looking at his wife. Her face absolutely radiant as she flashes a smile of pure joy.

“ Well,” Loki waits till Thor has taken a large swig of ale, “ My beloved and are are expecting a child.”

Gasps fill the room as well as Thor's hacking, ale being spewed on the table.

“Oh Loki that is wonderful!!” Frigga exclaims standing from her seat to embrace him. “Oh my dear, this is the most wonderous news,”

“BROTHER I can’t believe it!” Thor exclaims, lifting Loki in a crushing hug. And for once, he didn’t mind it. He turns to her and hugs her more gently. “ You are just full of surprises aren’t you, starlight”

Laughter, “Thor, I thought I told you to stop calling me that”

Silence fills the hall as Odin clears his throat, “ Loki, you have made me proud.”

Loki smiles as his love beams at him.

“Thank you father.”**

They reached the dining hall. A cold feeling formed in the pits of his stomach. He can see his mother, talking with a maid as she bounces the child. He can’t see it, as Frigga's back is turned to him. Odin’s presence is notably absent, a small relief on Loki's part.

Thor notices his brother’s nerves, he pats him on the back and says, “You can do this Loki.” Then walks off to join his mother. He kisses his mothers cheek and smiles at the child. He picks her up, bouncing her a few times prompting a small laugh. Loki gimances at the sound.

Thor walks up to him with the baby.

“Loki, this is Y/n Odinson”

He looks at the child. He takes in its features, Beautiful curly hair, already thick and voluminous even at this age. Brown skin, unblemished and clean. Cheeks, chubby with baby fat. And...its eyes. Those damn eyes, he could barely stand it, (e/c) eyes, the same as his lost love. In fact, almost all it’s features that once belonged to his darling. A pain filled his body. He really couldn’t stand looking at this child.

Not when his beloved wasn’t there to gaze upon their child as well.

No, this was not his child. Not anymore.

“Get rid of it.”

Shock filled the faces of both Thor and Frigga.

“Loki you cannot be serious.”

“Brother..”

“I SAID GET RID OF IT” Loki shouts. “I DO NOT WANT TO SEE THAT LITTLE MONSTER.”

And with that he leaves the dining hall. Leaving behind his mother, brother and the last piece of his wife he had. He hears it’s cries fill the silence.

He had only one thought in his head as he entered his chambers.

“What am I supposed to do without you”

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#loki x daughter!reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel x reader #thor x reader #thor odinson #loki imagine #angst #fanfic #mcu loki #mcu imagine #tom hiddleston #poc #poc reader #reader insert #Loki x poc!reader

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