#Ill post the link to the fic once its complete | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

da-gamingojichan · 10 months

Text

Robooty's awezome itager sex fanfic (AIDS EDITION)

PREAMBLE: you all may know my hit fanfiction on the ao3.... but i mentioned in the tags theres an aids edition where practically all the dialogue has their accents completely horrible and inaccurately written out. the very last bits dont have that but its because I was fighting for my life against sickness and the school chromebook to finish the fic when i made it okay shit happened. ill link the ao3 version thats #normal and what you should read if ur gunna read this shit. but for the robootyling that begged me on mai blog to post the aids edition.... this is for you ❤️

LINK TO NORMAL ONE

PREAMBLE OVER. SEX COMMENCE!!!!!

Germany nervously thumbed the note cards in his hands as he awaited Italy's arrival. The man blushed as he skimmed over the contents he had copied down from The Beginner’s Guide To Sex For the Hard-Hearted German on said pieces of paper the night earlier. He shifted the note cards to face more inwards towards himself, despite the fact he was alone in the hotel room. And also that if anyone even were to steal the note cards it would take them at least five minutes to decipher what was written down in his microscopic neat handwriting. Nervously, he fiddled with the edge of the ski mask on his face.

Yes, he had a ski mask on his head for the past twenty minutes. Germany had realized that even thinking about the event to come made his entire face flush a noticeable red. He couldn’t even imagine how blushed he’d look during the actual activity itself and decided that sort of thing was much too shameful to show Italy, so he found a solution. Wearing a ski mask on his face would be the perfect fix to make sure his lover wouldn’t see all the blood in his body rushing to his head when it’s supposed to be going to his… vital regions.

He also realized that he would probably make all sorts of embarrassing sounds and maybe even get so overwhelmed he’d attack Italy by instinct once they got down to business. So to combat this he also procured a duffle bag that sat next to the bed with duct tape, rope, and a knife to cut both items with. The duct tape would be perfect to put over his mouth to make sure any strange sounds he would make would become inaudible, and the rope could be used if he felt that he might need to be restrained to protect his husband.

He also had a yak tranquilizer in there too.

Just in case y’know?

Sure it may be a bit strange, but Italy probably wouldn’t even find it noticeable after listening to Germany’s explanation and adjusting to it all. At least that’s what Austria said when he consulted him on the matter. Apparently he and Hungary did that sort of thing all the time or something.

The blonde country sighed as he tucked the notecards into his pocket and fiddled with his hands while listening to the clock tick by. He suddenly focused his eyes on said clock and squinted.

“Vait. Vat ze hell?,” he thought, “Zat clock iz vun quarter of unt second off! I must fix it!”

The country quickly stood up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and brought the clock down into his hands as started to tinker with it. He had momentarily worried about Italy arriving while he was adjusting the clock, but decided that it would be fine, he needed something to get his mind off of what they would be doing together once his husband arrived. Instead he decided to recount what had happened to bring him to the hotel room in the first place.

It all started two weeks prior on Germany and Italy’s anniversary. The German had as always agonizingly created a meticulous plan for Italy to ruin immediately. Although this year had been a surprise since the brunette ruined Germany’s plans not by his usual antics like flashing his dick in a restaurant and getting them kicked out or getting distracted by street cats a few too many times, rather he’d told Germany that he made their plans all by himself for a change.

Now Germany could have told Italy that he spent weeks creating the itinerary for the day already and would receive nothing but understanding sprinkled with bits of praise from the Italian for always being so prepared. But the moment he saw the earnest look in his husband’s eyes that showed he really did try his best making the plans for a change this time, all notions of following through with the reservations he had made flew out the window.

It was fine, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially the greatest good which was accepting Italy’s displays of affections. No matter how frustrating or unpleasant or downright humiliating they could be at times. Besides, few canceled reservations was still infinitely better than the time the brunette uploaded on his official country of Italy account a post captioned “pasta in the shape of Germany’s anatomy” with a rather… uncouth, but delicious looking picture attached. Not to mention how Italy later begged the referenced country to reblog the photo onto his own official country account.

He did reblog it of course.

Anyways, Germany was rather excited to see what Italy had in store for him. Even though he knew the plans would not be as elaborate or well thought out as his own usually are, he still highly anticipated seeing what his husband prepared for him.

But how was he supposed to expect that after a day of a surprisingly well thought out and romantic anniversary date that the Italian planned to bed him?!

Like seriously! He had already mentally prepared himself for kissing and hand holding and possibly even a heavy make out session before snuggling in bed– but definitely not going all the way! Sure it might have been because it was specifically their hundredth anniversary they were celebrating, but that still is moving a bit fast isn’t it!?

The worst part was that the way the German realized that his husband wanted to have s… se…

…coitus. With Him.

Was when during their make out session the Italian palmed his lover’s dick firmly in his hand through the man’s pants only for Germany to suddenly suplex him out of sheer battle instincts.

The taller man quickly snapped out of it and helped Italy up before grabbing an ice pack from his fridge for his head. Forgetting completely about Italy copping a feel after effectively giving his husband a concussion on their anniversary night, he apologized profusely for the wrestling move as he asked if he was alright. The brunette was only slightly dazed since his brain was already so damaged that a hit like that barely did any harm to him at all. Yet he still stayed silent and kept his head lowered as tears began to pool into his eyes.

Germany started to panic, but before he could get a word out the shorter man lifted his head to make eye contact with him and asked with the seriousness of a man on death row, “Germany. Am I-a rizzless?”

The German did not know how to respond to that. He merely gaped at him for a moment before sputtering out, “V-Vhat are you talking avout? Of courze you have rizz!”

Italy bore his gaze into his lover’s eyes. “Then why… why…,” he trailed off.

“Why vhat?,” Germany asked, panic now replaced with confusion since he now knew the Italian wasn’t badly hurt.

Italy trembled as he brought his head back down before surging upwards and yelling at Germany with a hint of desperation, “WHY HAVE WE-A NEVA BANGED?! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT TE ASEXUAL JAHMANY! I’VE SEEN HOW YOU CUT OUT-A PICTURES OF MAH HEAD AND PASTE IT ONTO THE BOHDIES OF ALL THE PEOPLES IN YOUR PORN MAGAZINES! AM I-A JUST NOT YOUR BODY TYPE? ARE ANEMIC BOYS LIKE SWEETZERLAND MORE YOUR-A STYLE?”

Meanwhile, in a house far away from the two other countries, Switzerland sneezed.

“VHAT!?,” yelled the German, leaning back from his lover’s outburst, “VHAT ARE YOU TALKING AVOUT ITALY?!”

“ONE HUNDRED YEARS WE’VE-A BEEN MARRIED AND NEVER ONCE HAVE YOU EXPLAINED WHY WE DON’T GO PAST KISSING! AN ITALIAN LIKE-A ME CAN ONLY GO SO LONG WITHOUT ANY-A ACTION! I USED TO HAVE AT LEAST THREE GIRLS-A NIGHT! NOW I’VE BEEN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS ABSTINENT,“ Italy cried as he threw himself into Germany’s arms, “do you know how-a bad that is for someone like-a me? My soul is degrading Jahmany. MY SOUL! Is it-a because you don’t like my body? You told-a me about how you think of-a me during your monthly scheduled jack off sessions! Just tell-a me why Jahmany– why!”

Germany was stunned beyond words. Italy’s indecipherable speech was something that the man had become fluent in for years, but the Italian had spoken so quickly and frantically that even he had to take a moment to process what exactly had just spat out at him at rapid fire.

As the man fully processed what his husband rambled out a flush rose up his neck to the top of his head. He looked down at the teary eyed brunette snuggled in his chest and quickly proceeded with damage control.

“n-NO! Italy it’z not like zat at all!,” he quickly reassured, “u-uhm I love your body! It’s not displeazing to me at all! I especially vike how your torso haz vun arm on each side! And-and how ven you open your eyez I can see your vhites in zem! The reason we haven’t… done things… like zat yet is uhm… vell I haven’t exactly zhought ve’d be doing zhose activities anytime soon…”

He paused as he downcast his eyes, looking away from the brunette for a moment.

Before he decidedly gave out a long exhale and mumbled under his breath, “vut it’z not vike I don't VANT to…”

The Italian abruptly paused secretly motorboating Germany’s tits once he heard the man’s barely audible confession. In an instant, his tears receded into his eyes (in a very frankly disturbing manner, since tears should not be able to do that; you know how Hetalia’s animation budget gets sometimes) and he immediately looked up towards his lover as he broke into an excited grin.

“REALLY JAHMANY?! FOR-A REAL-SIES?!,” Italy shouted as he lunged towards the German’s face, “YOU WANNA █████████████████████ AND THEN ████████████████ TO YOUR-A █████████████ SO I ████████████████████████ THEN I █████████ ALL-A OVER YOU AND DON’T STOP EVEN WHEN YOU █████████ AND THEN-A WE BOTH █████████████████████████████!!!!!!”

Germany snapped his eyes back to look at the Italian as he sputtered from all the profane and lewd things his husband had just shoved into his mind to imagine. He could feel his head steaming as he made a few choked noises trying to figure out how to begin to respond to something like that until he finally gave up. He sighed in defeat before he averted his gaze again and hesitantly mumbled, “Ja.”

Italy immediately glomped the man as hard as he could, making Germany fall backwards slightly as he let out a startled yelp.

“OH JAHMANY I’M-A SO HAPPY! YOU’LL REALLY LIKE SEX JAHMANY I-A KNOW YOU WILL I’M REALLY REALLY REALLLYY GOOD AT IT! I-A MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FIGHT FOR SHIT BUT I-A DO KNOW MY WAY AROUND-A PERSON’S ASSHOLE! OR WELL– A PRETTY LADY’S ASSHOLE, BUT YOU’RE A PRETTY MAN AND-A EVERYONE HAS AN ASSHOLE SO I’M SURE IT’S-A BASICALLY THE SAME! I’M SO SO GLAD JAHMANY! I’M-A SO GLAD YOU DO WANT TO BANG AND I’M-A SO GLAD MY BEAUTIFUL BODY IS-A NOT JUST IRRESISTIBLE TO EVERY-A WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH, BUT ALSO IRRESISTIBLE TO YOU TOO!,” he excitedly rambled into his husband's ear, “EVEN WITH MY-A WEIRD PENIS!”

Germany instinctually reciprocated the hug and patted Italy’s back as his head tilted downwards into the other man’s shoulder.

“Ja Ja. I do,” he muttered with embarrassment tinging his voice, “even vith your… unique penis.”

Italy made a content “ve~” and further snuggled into the German’s hug. A silence stretched as they mutually enjoyed each other's embrace.

That is until Italy grabbed Germany’s balls again and got suplexed immediately.

Italy let out a surprised, “VE-” and Germany made a panicked noise as he immediately released the other man and picked him up to sit him down in his previous spot. The taller man fumbled to grab the previously discarded ice pack while his husband sat dazed for slightly longer than after the first suplex. He still came back to his senses astonishingly quickly though, since getting multiple concussions in one day was just another Tuesday for the Italian.

This time though, the blonde was the first one to speak.

“VAT ZE HELL VAS ZAT?!,” he angrily scolded, “VHY DID YOU DO ZAT?? I SUPLEXED YOU LITERALLY TWO MINUTES AGO FOR TOUCHING MEIN DEUTSCH BALLS!”

Italy let out a confused ve as Germany rubbed his head on the spot that hit the ground.

“B-but I-a thought you said you WANTED to-a get-a down and dahty with me Jahmany.”

“J-Ja I do!,” the German replied as he quickened the pace of his rubbing to distract himself from his rising embarrassment, “vut obviously I need unt time to prepare!”

He paused in contemplation for a moment.

“Vun month should be sufficient, " he concluded.

“VE?!” Italy yelled as he shot up out of the man’s hold, “DEADASS??”

Germany startled backwards from the outburst and replied in an agitated tone, “Yes “deadass”! How do you expvect me to read unt annotate ze whole Guide to Sex for Ze Hard Hearted German series in less time zan zat? Zere’s five books to study and-”

Germany was cut off by the shorter man putting his hands on his shoulders with a face that could only be described as radiating the sentiment of “this faggot cannot be serious right now”.

“Jahmany. Jahmany. Amore mio. Listen to me,” He gritted out as he opened his eyes, “You do not need to read five books to prepare for sex.”

Germany gaped at him for a moment, not because he opened his eyes while saying his statement, but because while saying it Italy had dropped his accent out of sheer exasperation.

“Vut… Vut what if I do it badly?,” he hesitantly protested, all the fight draining out of him after hearing his husband get so tired of his shit he became normal.

Italy continued to stare him directly into his eyes with an alarming seriousness, “Germany. You will not do badly. There is no conceivable way for you to disappoint me. I have jerked off to you twice a day for the past hundred years without fail– yes, even while I had pneumonia that one time. I’ve imagined literally every scenario possible with you. In fact there is no scenario I’ve imagined with you that I didn’t like at least a little bit too. There’s no physically possible way for me to not like banging you.”

Germany’s blush deepened as he listened to the brunette’s confession, his embarrassment only amplified from being pinned down by the other’s intense stare. He instinctually averted his eyes while he hung his head in a bit of shame as he started realizing maybe he was being the ridiculous one here.

The Italian’s eyes softened as they slipped back closed and he cupped his husband’s cheek into his hand to bring his face back to his own, “But you-a know that if you-a really are uncomfortable or scared or-a anything at all we don’t-a have to have sex okay?,” he began stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, “I-a just want you to-a know that there’s no part of me that doesn’t desire you. It’s-a completely okay if you don’t-a want to do that-a sort-a of thing now or even ever. Even if we-a start and you don’t-a want to keep-a going suddenly then-a we-a can stop anytime. I just know how-a shy you can be about things and how you sometimes worry about-a me too much, so I need-a to push you to let-a you-a know you shouldn’t be worried about-a my end.”

The blonde brought his hand up to Italy’s wrist that was holding his face and forced his eyes back to his lover’s face. Furrowing his brow a little bit from fighting against his instincts to look away again, he responded, “Vell… if you really are svure you are fine vith me being less zan properly prepared… ven I zink ve could arrange somevhing next veek…”

The shorter man brought his face closer to Germany’s, “Are you really sure?”

“Ja,” the German replied, fighting for his life against his embarrassment and autism to maintain eye contact.

Feeling his nerves about to get the best of him, he moved his head back and closed his eyes while he quickly added, “vut not ze ██████████████ und ze █████████████ and also ze ███████████!”

He turned his face away as he muttered, “At least not for now… Zat’s vay too much for ze firvst time! And also ESPECIALLY not ze ███████████ too okay?!”

Italy had proceeded to pull him into a kiss and murmured something about how cute he was as he decided to continue what they left off at in their make-out session twenty minutes ago.

Afterwards while cuddling they both agreed to book a hotel room the next Saturday for their highly anticipated activities together and thus, led Germany to where he was now. Now having finished fixing and placing back the clock, he occupied himself by rummaging through the various items in the cabinets to see where the hotel bible was to read a few verses from it.

He was snapped out of his focus when suddenly, he heard a shriek from behind him and swiftly turned towards the source of the sound.

There he saw a teary eyed Italy quite literally shaking in his boots.

“AHHHHH!!!!! INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT WHERES-A GERMANY?!,” Italy screamed as his eyes darted around the room and caught on the open duffle bag, seeing the tape and rope within it, “OH-A MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO-A HARVEST OUR ORGANS OR-A SELL US ON THE-A BLACK MARKET AHHHHHH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU-A DONE TO-A JAHMANY?!”

Germany, realizing that Italy could not recognize him with his ski mask on, quickly strode over to the man to reassure him that there was no intruder that was trying to hate crime them. Unfortunately in his panic it did not occur to him to remove his mask making the Italian only freak out harder.

The brunette immediately made a move to bolt away once he saw the other man start striding towards him, but was caught in the intruder’s arms and struggled to get away as if he was going to be forced to pay his bill at a restaurant. After about five seconds he gave up and pulled out two white flags seemingly out of nowhere and got to doing what he does best, acting like a total pussy.

“PLEASE-A LET ME GO YOU WON’T-A LIKE-A MY ORGANS–THEY’RE FULL OF-A PASTA AND WINE AND JAHMANY’S NASTY WAR BREAD WHICH IS-A CALLED STOLLEN BUT-A DON’T TELL HIM-A THAT I-A CALLED IT THAT BECAUSE I-A LIED AND TOLD HIM I-A LOVED IT WHEN IT-A TASTED REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD– LIKE SUPER DUPER BAD IT-A WAS HARD AND HAD-A NASTY DRIED FRUITS IN IT BUT I-A COULDN’T BREAK HIS HEART AND-A TELL HIM THAT AND ENDED UP HAVING TO-A EAT A WHOLE LOT OF IT– THE THINGS I-A DO FOR LOVE AM I-A RIGHT? SEE I’VE-A HAD A HARD LIFE Y’KNOW SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he rambled while waving his white flags furiously.

Italy felt the grip on him soften as the masked man deflated and in a broken hearted voice said, “Italy… you lied avout viking mein schtollen? Vhy… Vhy did you lie to me…”

“G-germany?,” Italy asked himself as he dropped his white flags to take off the man’s mask, revealing a disillusioned Germany.

He made a startled yell of surprise realizing what he just confessed to the man.

“I-I DIDN’T-A MEAN IT IN THAT-A WAY JAHMANY!!,” he tried to reassure, “YOU-A KNOW I SAY SOME CRAZY THINGS WHEN I’M IN-A TROUBLE–”

He saw that his words were having no impact on his lover’s deflated mood and quickly changed the subject, “UHM! ANYWAYS– I’M-A REALLY GLAD YOU’RE NOT-A SCARY INTRUDER JAHMANY AND YOU DIDN’T-A GET CUT OPEN OR-A SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET!”

Italy continued rambling about how happy he was that neither of them were going to become meat pies as he untangled himself from Germany's hold and took him by the hand back into the hotel room. He closed the door behind them and led them to the bed.

“Why were you-a wearing such-a scary thing anyways Jahmany?,” Italy asked while holding the ski mask out in front of him as they sat down on the mattress, “and what’s with all the stuff in the duffle bag? I-a thought you didn’t-a want to do anything kinky this-a time?”

Germany, having already forgiven Italy as usual, explained in an increasingly flustered manner his reasoning for the mask and the items in his bag, especially the yak tranquilizer. As the explanation went on Italy’s face went from confused into falling in a grimace-like smile.

“... so zats vhy I prepared all zese zings. Again, I’m sorry vor startling you earlier,” the taller man concluded. He reached to take the ski mask back only for it to be jerked away from him by the Italian.

“Jahmany,” Italy started with tight smile, “thank you for all-a these-a wonderful preparations. But I-a think we won’t-a need these things at-a all. Especially not-a the ski mask. Just-a trust me okay?”

The blonde knit his brows togethers in confusion thinking that Italy surely should have understood why his preparations were needed after his thirty minute explanation. Well, in daily life Italy did have trouble following a line of logic in general so it isn’t too surprising that he was struggling to become agreeable now too.

“Let me explain it to you again zen Italy, so-,” Germany started only to be cut off from Italy lunging himself on top of him, effectively pinning him to the bed kabedon style.

There was no fucking way Italy was going to listen to that thirty minute schpiel again. It was already 10 PM at night and he knew Germany was going to make them get up at 5 AM the next morning to run a few laps to satisfy his autistic need for schedule. He had to get things moving or else he’d be dead in the water with no sleep and no Germussy.

The brunette brought his face close to his lover’s ear and he whispered, “Jahmany, you know I find that-a worrywort side of you-a cute too, but right-a now let me take-a the lead alright?”

For emphasis he proceeded to place a chaste kiss on the back of his husband’s jaw.

Germany’s ears began to burn from the blood rushing to them. In all these years he never could get used to the feeling of the Italian’s lips on his skin. He fumbled trying to formulate a proper response to the man’s compliment and interruption, ending up uttering out, “Ja– y-you too.”

Italy took this as his greenlight to start attacking the man’s face with his own.

Before Germany could overthink about his failure of a response, he felt his husband’s lips press firmly to his.

The shorter man laced their fingers together as he pinned the German’s hands above his head on the bed. Knowing his lover was the type who would always forget to breathe through his nose (it was alright, at least he finally stopped keeping his eyes open while smooching), he broke the kiss before diving back down with more fervor. He swiped his tongue against the bottom lip of the man below him, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As always, his husband obliged and parted his lips modestly.

Germany always thought that feeling a tongue explore his mouth felt a bit weird at first. And in general the act was pretty unsanitary which wasn’t very pleasant either. But when he thought about how the kind of strange tasting tongue in his mouth was his beloved Italy’s, that alone was enough to make the experience enjoyable and start getting him heated up.

The blonde let out a few embarrassed sounds as Italy hummed in content against him before pulling away to see how the other was faring.

He was moving faster than usual since they had bigger fish to fry soon, but was pleased to see that the man below him was doing pretty well. Germany’s face was tickled pink as he panted heavily from, as usual, not breathing through his nose at all. He looked up at Italy in expectation as he unconsciously pursed his lips a bit in an attempt to get rid of the excessive saliva on the corner of his mouth.

The Italian, in an act of true chivalry, kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth to get rid of the excess spit and then began to trail kisses down his jaw and to the wide expanse of his neck.

Instinctually, the taller man craned his neck to give his lover a better angle to nip and nibble at him, but also gave a small protest of surprise, “vait Italy– usually ve–ah! Spend m-more time… mm… k-kissing don’t ve?”

The man paused his assault and lifted his head from the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Well we have-a lot of-a things to do Jahmany! This-a time kissing isn’t our-a main-a course after all,” Italy replied, soaking in his husband’s flustered disposition to stop himself from diving back in to continue eating away at him.

“Zat iz true… but uhm…,” Germany averted his gaze and mumbled, “kissing iz mein favorite part… so uhm.. c-could we– do that a little more..”

Italy, in all honesty, had never been more aroused in his entire life.

Germany always had a habit of being overly considerate in their relationship in general and the Italian knew that when he didn’t ask for something it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t want to be pushy. Especially when it came to romance. So to hear him meekly request for something as sweet as a few more kisses– how could he deny him?

Italy smiled and let go of the blonde’s hands to cup his face and neck as he sweetly maneuvered his mouth to other’s for a little while longer. During which Germany found his arms settling wrapped around his lover’s torso.

As Italy pulled away he brought himself back to the man’s neck and reassured him, “don’t-a worry Jahmany, we’ll still be able to kiss-a later too,” finishing his statement with a chaste kiss behind his ear.

Germany only hugged his lover tighter as Italy resumed sucking dark hickies into his pale skin. He let out little yelps every time the brunette bit down on him and whimpered as the man licked away the marks apologetically afterwards.

“Ah—ah, Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

“I-a love you too Germania,” the shorter man breathed into the other man’s skin only to feel him immediately tense up.

Germany swiftly moved his hands to his husband’s shoulder and pushed him away to make eye contact in a deathly serious fashion.

“Italy,” he said while looking him dead in the eye, “do not call me Germania.”

The Italian was startled by such a reaction and blurted out, “wh– why?” with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s the name of my grandfather.”

Fuck.

Both men did not know how to proceed with their intimate moment together after an interruption like that.

Luckily, before Italy could make a stupid joke that would inevitably downward spiral into them sleeping in bed with awkward half boners together he remembered that in his pocket he had a small charm gifted to him by England. It was given to him as an aid in case something went wrong during his and Germany’s night together. Thank god for him going to England for that fortune telling beforehand!

He immediately pulled out the charm and threw it on the ground before Germany could react and a large poof of smoke surrounded him. As the smoke dissipated he realized he was in the same position he was in before he called his husband by his grandfather’s name.

“Ah—ah Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

This time, a much wiser Italy breathed into his skin, “I-a love-a you too Germany” and he felt his lover bury his face deeper into his neck.

Hey guys so this is the part where you read a sex scene written by a guy who has never held hands with someone in his entire life

Through their close embrace, both men could feel the other beginning to harden through their clothes. But this time was different, since for once the two men would be able to do something about their soon to be full mast dicks and that thought alone excited them both further.

Now kissing Germany’s neck less aggressively with only slow, closed mouth presses to his skin, Italy moved his hands and began to unbutton his husband’s collared shirt. He trailed his sappy smooches down to the man’s vast chest that he was oh so familiar with. Shifting his hands to cup the German’s pecs he huffed in displeasure as he felt they were hard and flexed. The brunette rested his face in between his lover’s pecs and looked up at him with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

“Relax for me Jahmany, I-a like them when they’re soft,” he requested, still cupping the hard masses in his palms.

The taller man closed his eyes and muttered out a hesitant, “ja ja” as he willed his muscles to untense. The Italian made a pleased noise as he squished the man’s large pecs in his hands. Truely, a delight better than any girl could provide, he thought to himself.

He experimentally moved his thumbs to push on the other man’s nipples and felt the blonde’s pecs instantly harden once again.

Germany instinctually hugged him much tighter, causing the Italian’s body to press up firmly against his as he let out a surprised “ah!” and inquired, “V-Vhat do you zink you’re doing” through squinted eyes.

“I’m-a playing with your chest Jahmany,” the Italian replied in a cheeky tone, as he proceeded to continue gently messing around with his husband’s pink nubs.

“Ja… vut– nngh you’ve never done somezing vike– ah- zhis b—before,”

“Do you-a like it?”

“It- mmm feels… vierd.. I don’t know if– if it’z ze good… vierd,” the German replied, scrunching together his brows as he consciously loosened his grip on his lover to make sure to not hurt him.

Italy hummed in acknowledgement. It didn’t appear that his lover’s boner was getting any stiffer as he continued playing with his chest. So after a few moments he decided to hell with it and asked, “how does-a this feel then?” before he proceeded to roughly grind his thigh directly into Germany’s crotch.

He instantly felt his husband’s thighs squeeze around his leg as the German threw his head back; hand clamping over his own mouth to suppress the moan that erupted from him. His back arched as his body shuddered. Italy was momentarily concerned that his lover just prematurely ejaculated, but also thought to himself that it would still be kinda cute if he did. Luckily, he knew the man didn’t as he felt Germany unconsciously rock himself slightly against his thigh, searching for more pleasure.

The blonde reached down to grab at Italy’s thigh between his legs before jerking his hand away and choosing to modestly grip at the sheets near their lower regions instead.

“I–ah I vike it–,” he stuttered as he brought his head back forward to face the Italian, face burning red and eyes tightly shut, “I–I vike it down zhere, ah–”

Well then. If the man says he likes it down there then Italy supposes he could sacrifice the rest of the boobies time to indulge him.

Nevermind how Italy could physically feel the blood in his body rushing towards his vital regions after seeing a reaction like that.

The shorter man continued unbuttoning the rest of his husband’s shirt as he trailed kisses down his torso, slowly grinding his leg into the man’s crotch to keep him from becoming impatient. Germany gripped the sheets tighter as he let out a string of “ah”s with every rocking motion. Unconsciously, he tried to speed up the pace, but Italy held his hips firmly in place.

Once the Italian had finished releasing the bottom and final button of the other man’s shirt, he quickly unbuckled his lover’s belt as well and stripped the man of his pants and underwear in one go. Germany let out a squeak in surprise and wanted to kill himself for making such a shameful sound. That was until he felt the cool air hit his now fully hardened dick and realized Italy was staring right at it, now he wanted to double kill himself.

“D—don’t just stare right at it!,” he scolded while curling his legs inwards and covering said regions with both hands.

The brunette let out a confused ve, “ehhhh? why? I-a literally stare directly at it every time we-a go to the public baths with Japan. I already-a know what you’re-a packing”.

“That’s true but!-- Right now ze situation iz all different okay?!,” The German protested, “It’z not ze same vhen I know you actually vant to get— erm– i-intimate vith me!! Just vike how zis is different than all zhose times you made me zit next to you vhile you masturbated at night because you vere scared of ze dark! It’z not vike you vere masturbating thinking of ME!”

Italy decided to refrain mentioning how all those times he WAS masturbating thinking about Germany actually. The entire masturbating “scared of the dark” thing was an Italian way of flirting even, but that would be an explanation for another time. Instead he bent down and gently pried back open the blonde’s legs causing the blonde to let out another “eep” in protest.

“But you’re so pretty Germany,” he replied, pushing his lover back down with his hand as the other caressed the man’s thigh, “can’t I have a looksie at my husband?”

He didn’t dare let out the urge he felt to giggle when he saw Germany’s hard on twitch a little at the praise. The blonde didn’t respond verbally, but allowed his lover to continue his ministrations with no resistance as he buried his face into the pillow next to him to hide his shame.

He’s so easy, it’s adorable. Italy thought to himself.

He continued to massage out little whimpers as he caressed the man’s legs while unbuttoning his own shirt. He decided that tonight he wouldn’t force Germany to strip him back. Since even as adorable as it would be to see his husband awkwardly fumble with his clothing and somehow turn even more flustered from being teased, he himself was getting a little impatient and wanted to get to sloppy sex already.

He briefly stopped his ministrations for a moment to peel the shirt off himself and toss it to the side. Despite how much he wished he could see the blonde’s expression right now, he was a little grateful that the man still had his face buried in the pillow next to him, since half of him was worried that he would make Italy pause and fold his shirt if he saw him throw it to the side.

Germany lifted his head from the pillow after noticing that the massaging had come to a stop only to throw it back once again with an arched back when Italy began nipping at his inner thighs.

The blonde yelped and clenched the bed sheets beside him as he felt his husband wrap his hands around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his soft flesh, “ha–AH!-”

“Ah— ahn– neughh–,” he moaned ungracefully as he felt the Italian play with the tip a bit with his thumb.

“Mio prezioso, are you-a ready to have your first blowjob?,” Italy asked as he kept the German’s legs spread with one hand while bringing his face closer to the member in his other palm.

Unfortunately, he never made contact. Right before his mouth touched the tip he heard Germany let out a high pitched cry and the penis in front of him sprayed him directly in the face with semen.

Both men went still for a moment, until Italy brought his fingers to his face and then brought them to his mouth to have a taste of the sticky white substance.

Watching Italy begin to taste his cum snapped Germany out of his trance and he immediately wretched the brunette's hand away from his mouth yelling, “ITALY DO NOT EAT ZAT!!!”

The Italian pulled his hand back, “no, no wait-a minute Jahmany.”

He scooped some more onto his index finger and placed it in his mouth for a moment, really contemplating the flavor this time. “Hey this actually tastes-a pretty good! Like not-a spread it on your toast everyday level-a good, but better than those-a nasty sausages you-a gave me that one time we pinky promised to be-a best friends forever! Do you think it’s-a because we’re countries?”

Germany was about to ask Italy what the hell was wrong with him until the weight of how he just not only prematurely ejaculated, but also prematurely ejaculated all over his husband’s face set in.

Oh mein gott what is wrong with ME? He thought to himself as a horrified expression crept in his features.

Italy, sensing the blonde’s mood change quickly grabbed his wrists before he could put his hands on his face and go full “I wish I was never born” on him.

“Hey-hey Jahmany! Don’t-a worry about creaming on-a my face! You know I honestly kinda like it–I just-a told you that you taste like-a solid 6/10 yummy!,” Italy rambled out, jerking the other man’s wrists around in lue of his usual hand gestures, “And it’s-a fine that you finished-a teensy bit early! It’s-a your first time you know? If-a anything, honestly I think it’s-a really cute! Lookit me I’m-a even harder than before!”

He looked down at his own tented pants to encourage his husband to do the same. In his peripheral vision he spotted a wonderful sight though.

His eyes trailed over to Germany’s penis that was still erect as ever, even after finishing once.

Germany had told him before that he could schedule his monthly masturbation time block since he knew that he was only physically capable of finishing one time. Despite being one of the youngest countries, he had the stamina of a grandfather and told the shorter man that it was simply impossible for him to do more than one round.

Italy knew his husband was not the type who would lie to him, so him still being erect in the current moment must be a very new and unexpected development. That much he could conclude from how also Germany seemed just as shocked as he was about his little guy still fighting strong.

In his head, the brunette gave a prayer thanking God for always being so gracious to him and promising to start attending church again. Once he finished he lunged back on top of the taller man, knocking him back over and under him and whispered in his ear, “Jahmany, if it’s-a okay with you, do you-a mind letting me-a take care of that for you?”

Still reeling from the mountains of shame he felt for finishing too quickly earlier he protested, “nein! V–vhat about yourself?! If anyzing I should be ze one taking care of you!”

He internally cursed himself for not studying the book series harder. He would say to hell with it and try taking the wheel, but flashbacks of buon san valentino flashed in his mind and he lost all confidence in himself. One book studied was not enough for then, so only one book studied for now definitely wouldn’t be enough to maneuver through this.

Italy felt his heart squeeze a little and kissed Germany’s cheek as he reassured him, “you’re so sweet mio tesoro. I love that considerate side to you, but don’t worry Jahmany, I’ll take care of both of us this time.”

“V-vut–”

“Trust me,” The Italian requested as he pulled himself up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside counter, “what I-a have in mind will-a definately feel good for-a both of us thanks to-a my technique.”

The German watched as his husband poured a generous amount of the substance on his fingers, fully realizing what the man was alluding to.

“Now-a my Germany, will you-a spread your legs for me please?,” the shorter man asked with a smile.

The taller man felt his face begin to steam again and coyly opened his legs. He glanced back and forth between his lover and the wall until he closed his eyes and muttered, “be gentle… okay?”

Italy almost couldn’t contain himself from how cute his husband could be. He circled his middle finger around the rim of the blonde’s hole as he leaned over to his face and planted a gentle kiss. He reassured him, “don’t worry, just tell me if somethings wrong” as he slowly plunged the finger inside of him.

The taller man squirmed in discomfort and the Italian planted gentle kisses along his neck to soothe him.

“Is it-a alright? How does it-a feel?”

“It’z… vierd… it doesn’t hurt zhough…mmnn.. you can move…”

Gently as promised, Italy slowly plunged in and out with his lubed up middle finger, feeling the warm interiors of his husband. Soft squelches resonated within the room.

“...Italy… I zink I’m ready for anothzer vun…,” Germany mumbled as he became used to the intrusion.

He only squirmed a little bit when the second finger entered him. This time he quickly found himself becoming accustomed to the sensation and asked for another. He was about to mentally congratulate himself for adapting so quickly, but stopped himself once he realized he was about to feel proud of being able to get used to being fingered quickly.

The blonde felt a slight burn when the third heavily lubed finger entered him and let out a small, “ah—ah-”. He wrapped his arms around his husband and whined into his neck. Italy gently shushed him and continued soothing him with kisses and praise as he carefully stretched the German open.

He gently scissored the man’s hole as he went in and out, searching for his lover’s prostate.

Germany in all honesty was getting a bit tired, since the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it didn’t really feel good either. He had practiced on his own before for Italy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it feel like much else than just fingers in his ass. Plus the rim of his hole was starting to burn from the fingers going in and out. But it did feel good to know that Italy was going to feel really good soon, and that part did keep him turned on and hard.

Suddenly, Italy’s fingers touched a certain spot and he felt as though a flash of lightning struck through him. He let out a loud moan as he white knuckled the sheets and forced his legs not to clench together.

Italy’s face lit up and he happily cheered, “Jahmany! Jahmany I finally found your prostate! I bet that-a felt really good didn’t it!!” He removed his fingers with a shlick and poured a generous amount of lube on his own dick that was now so hard it was almost painful.

“J… Ja.. zat did feel good,” Germany uttered in response, feeling a bit empty without the fingers.

“I’m glad Jahmany! After all, I want-a this to feel good for you too.”

The shorter man lined himself up against his husband’s hole and leaned the rest of his body down to meet their faces together.

“Jahmany, are you-a ready?”

“J—Ja, I trust you Italien,” Germany replied, meeting his eyes to show that he was serious with no doubts.

Italy smiled and leaned down to sweetly kiss the man below him as he slowly entered.

Germany wrapped his arms tighter around Italy as he carefully went deeper and deeper, a low burn growing from the intrusion. The blonde let out little “ah”s as Italy reminded him to relax and soothed him by running his hands down the man’s sides until he was fully inside him.

They paused for a moment to let the taller man adjust a bit to the member stuck inside him.

After a minute or so of Germany squirming and Italy fighting for his life not to bust a nut instantly, the taller man muttered, “I’m okay now… you can move Italy.”

Italy grit his eyes closed as he slowly moved in and out. Germany was tight– freaking too tight even– holy shit. Italy thought about making a joke about how he didn’t expect to get circumcised this way, but held himself back knowing it would ruin the mood. Instead he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Cuore mio, relax for me. It's alright, you can do this, just relax.”

“Of.. of course Italy”

He felt the taller man bury his face into the brunette’s neck as he slowly softened around him, still on the tight side, but at least it wasn’t a gorilla grip anymore.

Italy set back on his steady, slow pace. Each thrust eliciting a little moan from the man beneath him. He kept at it for a bit, trying to figure out what angle to thrust at to hit the man’s prostate once again until he did a thrust and felt the blonde clench harshly around him, arching his back as he did so.

Now having confidence in knowing where to hit, he quickened his pace and aimed towards that same spot. “You’re so good for me Germany, you know that?”

Germany’s face steamed even hotter somehow. “Ah, Italien— ah— mmm— mmmphh–,” he covered his mouth to muffle his moans that came spilling out uncontrollably.

“Jahmany don’t deprive me, I want to hear all the cute sounds you make,” Italy panted as he snatched the German’s hands away from his mouth.

“Good boy, good boy.”

He kissed the man once again as he continued to pick up the pace, whispering sweet words of praise into his husband’s ear.

The taller man whimpered and tears pricked his eyes as he arched his back. The Italian moved his hands to the German’s hips to get better leverage, while his husband hugged his legs and arms around Italy.

“Ah, ah, I love you– I love you Italy–,” Germany babbled into Italy’s shoulder, “I-I really love you– Ich liebe d—dich!-”

The shorter man knew his lover liked kissing best, but how could he expect Italy to kiss him when he kept saying these kinds of cute things when he didn’t?

“Anch'io ti amo Jahmany– ti amo tanto!,” he replied, feeling himself hitting the edge soon.

He needed to wrap things up soon, so he let go of his husband’s hip with the hand still slippery from lube and used that to start stroking the blonde’s cock vigorously.

“Ah– AH! Nuugh– that– that feels— Ah! r—really.. G-good—,” Germany mewled, “I– I feel —Ah, ah, s-something— build.. ngh— ing up–! I— ah– Ah– I think–”

“Do you– you hah— think you’re going to come?”

Italy picked up his pace, both stroking his dick and slamming into him.

“Then come for me Germany”

Germany spasmed and let out a broken string of moans as he came. He hugged Italy tight and the brunette could feel his walls clenching around him, bringing the shorter man over the brink as well with a loud groan.

He pumped into the man below him a few more times, riding out his orgasm as Germany whimpered from becoming a little overstimulated.

He pulled out slowly, before collapsing on top of his lover and instinctually burying his face into the man’s tits.

Both of them lay panting for a moment, as Italy maneuvered himself to lay next to his lover, and gathered him up in a hug that Germany weakly reciprocated.

“Well, Germany, what did you think of your first time having sex?,” Italy inquired.

Germany, now becoming fully lucid again, first realized how sweaty and sticky he felt, thus he replied, “Sticky.”

He thought for a little bit longer.

“But I also admit it was good. Even if I acted a bit shamefully…,” he lowered his eyes and averted his gaze.

Italy laughed and only hugged his husband tighter.

The blonde felt discomfort from the two warm and sweaty bodies pressing up against each other even closer, but nevertheless hugged his lover back because even though his body felt warm, his heart felt warm too. His body also felt kinda sore. Maybe even a lot sore. Actually he might have to rethink his 5 AM jogging laps with the condition his body was currently in.

But that was still fine too, since he probably would’ve only done a quarter of his laps anyways since Italy would be with him and get distracted by a cat or something.

For now, he settled with snuggling into Italy’s arms and began to doze off to sleep, exhausted from their activities.

That is until he felt the Italian bolt up after five minutes and shake his shoulder asking, “hey Germany wanna go for round two?”

#-fic #-germany #-hetalia #-itager #-italy #-yaoi #sorry the sex parts themselves honestly suck ass #i didnt write them good because you can tell i got shy and embarassed #i was too shy. gommene next time ill write them better 🙏

6 notes · View notes

cannolipiper420 · 18 days

Text

Intro Post (insert creative part)

Hi, so im a random writer who likes stitchpunks a little too much /j. Heres an intro post so that you know what the hell ill be posting here.

Name and Pronouns:

I mainly go by Cannoli, and for pronouns I mainly go by they/them, but I'm okay with basically any other pronoun out there.

What will I be doing here:

I'll mainly be posting about writing romance and 18+ smut for specific fandoms. I'll occasionally post links to ao3 fics and such. So yeah no minors allowed.

Things relating to other people:

Do I take requests? - No. I can hardly even finish one chapter of a wip so I do not want to take requests. at all.

Can I message you? - unless its really important, i'd perfer if you don't.

Where will you upload your fanfics? - AO3. It's the best fanfiction site I know of with the best tagging system.

What will be on this blog:

Cryptic posts about writing

smut. so much smut.

And romance. This blog will literally be 99% about romance fanfics.

occasional crappy doodle (like the banner for this blog)

some memes.

What will NOT BE ALLOWED on this blog:

Bigotry, racism and other gross stuff like that

Minors. go back to your pg-13 or 16+ content you freaks. /j

Glorified gross stuff like Glorified and enable non-con. Just stop that its gross.

Fandom(s) I will write for:

9. yes that obscure 2000s movie with the ragdolls. and yes i find the ADULT ragdolls hot. (and ill be completely ignoring the twins since their mentally children.)

and thats it. I'm really picky and dont have enough brain capacity for anything else.

So yeah thats my blog introduction. I upload only once in a blue moon, so be used to me not posting for like 2 months straight. Also, please don't attack me for making nsfw fanfics, and if you dont like it just do not read. Anyways, I have to go feed my wips in my basement, so bye./j

#idk what to tag this as #This blog is 18+#do i put 9 tags here #ehh i dont wanna put this monstrocity in those tags so no.

0 notes

nonbinary-sticks-the-badger · 2 months

Text

id like to start this post with a link to a fundraiser masterpost and a reminder to do your daily clicks.

as i mentioned in my last post, i probably wont be posting about anything scu-related in the future, at the very least not anything praising it. if i reblog shadow referencing a keanu reeves role, my bad, ive only seen so many things with him in it. if i reblog scu art that i think is just mainline, my bad, i wasn't thinking. im gonna be honest i dont even think ill do little things, like stobotnik but in mainline context, though i will say, stobotnik mainline au may be like. the 1 exception??? because i do like the ship??? but thats the complete extent of what ill post, if that.

a part of me wants to say "but this is spoiling other people's fun!" and then the other part of me says "by not giving a platform to actors and a company that is complicit in genocide" and it shuts up the first half pretty easily. remember that considering everything, while yes it's likely to have very anti-military, anti-us themes, there is a chance both knuckles and sonic 3 will contain hidden pro-israel propaganda. if it wasnt obvious, i don't want to post about israeli propaganda.

for anyone who knows me personally, or at least messages me, im more likely to be more leniant seeing as. well. it's not public. but im still not sure if ill talk about it unless it comes up in conversation???

ik i have a handful of people here who are mostly scu fans, possibly even scu exclusive. ig im sorry??? i can understand why theres a lot of scu fans, so i suppose if you like scu but you also want to stop posting about it, may i recommend some OTHER things to try (this is a long list so buckle up:

hop (2011) has a similar plot to sonic 1 and has james marsden (who is also not a good person but i dont think even universal would care if youre pirating hop (2011))

a really good place to start is honestly the snapcube dubs!!! you might get a few spoilers from context clues but theyre a really fun way to get to know games a little bit! obviously, theres a big barrier of there only being 5 dubs of 4 games, but i feel like once youve watched the dubs you can sort of get into the rest of her videos from there (theres also. theres this one. this one series. that people like. btw.)

while yeah i recommend the games, theyre sort of hard to know where to start. all i can really say is, dont start from forces or frontiers, at least know the plot of sa2 and thats basically it. ig if you want to play EVERY game, you dont really need to play anything before sonic 3 & knuckles and even then you can still start from sonic adventure and learn the plot of s3&k

NiGHTS is fun but also youll learn nothing about sonic i just wanted to mention it

if youre more into the action, i recommend sonic prime (and also, a few fix-it-fics or rewritten endings)

i recommend sonic boom if you want the comedy* and the characters living (mostly) normal lives. also you can literally watch most of sonic boom for free on youtube idc if im biased i will die on the hill of it being the best sonic canon. yeah im even including rise of lyric. no i have not played rise of lyric. do not mention the wasted potential of the concepts or i will explode.

*no offense but sonic boom is way funnier. idc if im biased because the sonic films are honestly only a step up from mcu humour most of the time, if that

if you want lore, i recommend the comics rather than the games, seeing as its slightly daunting where to start with the games. for a slightly more sanitised and. ig "normal" experience, read either idw or post-reboot archie. but if you want things to get a little wild theres pre-reboot archie. the only archie comics ive read are sonic boom and NiGHTS, so im not speaking from experience. but. wow. theres a lot to unpack there

if for whatever reason you just want sonic thats completely different to the games, i recommend sonic the comic and any of the 90s cartoons!!! theyre honestly really fun and because theyre so early on in sonic history (?) theres so many inconsistencies

sonic the fighters is fun but also you literally will never have to play that ever and its hard to find anyway

im pretty sure ive mentioned every canon there??? and a few things i dont need to lol. but the point is, if you are a fan of scu, you arent immediately a bad person! BUT (and here's the bit you actually have to listen to): if you are posting and praising the scu, particularly the upcoming projects, you are giving a platform to a large chunk of zionists.

#sonic #scu

1 note · View note

korpikorppi · 3 years

Text

FANFICS! Part Two

My previous fanfic post reached the maximum length for a post (or so I was told by Tumblr), so here is the sequel to the list of links to the Untamed - Mo Dao Zu Shi fanfics I've read and enjoyed. As with the previous one, I'll be adding to this post (and reblogging this) every once in a while, and there's also a link to this in my pinned post. And as before, I will also move the previously posted content behind a cut at every update.

A bit of a warning: I tend to like my stories set in the canon universe, so no modern AUs here (ok, I may be persuaded to read some good reincarnation fics, perhaps); this is also mostly Wangxian, but some other ships make appearences occasionally.

And further note for those who venture into the explicit territory: service top Lan Wangji my beloved + in this house we also acknowledge bottom Lan Wangji rights.

So, here we go (again)!

*updated March 8th, 2022*

Love lies beyond words by acrosticacrumpet

Jiang Cheng & Wei Wuxian, general, words: 4 754, chapters: 1/1

post-canon, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical dysfunctional relationships, Yunmeng Shuangjie reconciliation, not a completed reconciliation but the beginning of one, Twin Prides of Yunmeng feels, self-worth issues, Wei Wuxian's notoriously poor self-worth vs Jiang Cheng's legendary rejection sensitivity: FIGHT, painful conversations with a tasteful smidgeon of, cuddling & snuggling

Wei Wuxian is struck by a curse that drains his spiritual energy, and makes him allergic to anyone else's. He is going to die - unless he receives energy from the golden core that was once his.

Or: The longest - but not the worst - night of Jiang Cheng's life.

And he sang about the stars by nenyanaryavilya

Lan Xichen & Lan Wangji, Wangxian, mature, words: 29 911, chapters: 1/1

brotherhood, growing up together, canon compliant, canon-typical violence, angst, grief/mourning, this is a canon-adjacent fic so like war and war crimes and all that jazz, desecration of the dead and pining, the usual, Lan Xichen has a no good very bad awful late adolescence and early adulthood, canonical character death

"Xichen has loved his brother so much he thinks his heart might bear him ill will at this point. He will always ache when he is gone, like one of his arms is missing. He will try to soothe his brother’s troubled heart for a thousand years, if loving this boy is what will bring Wangji the most happiness, but it pricks at him like a doctor’s needles to see his brother’s open devotion treated like nothing by its very object."

----

Lan Xichen and the brother he loved and nearly lost.

The stone-filled sea by yukla

Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, Wangxian, teen and up, words: 9 093, chapters: 1/1

post-canon, the juniors, Senior Wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

The fire lapping up the creek by notevenyou

Wangxian, explicit, words: 66 299, chapters: 6/6

graphic depictions of violence, alternate universe - canon divergence, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injury, injury recovery, blood, respiratory illness, major illness, fever, grief/mourning, Burial Mounds, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced suicide, hunger and food scarcity, surgery, fix-it of sorts

Wei Wuxian travels to Lanling for his nephew’s one-month celebration alone, without Wen Ning.

Lan Wangji lives with the consequences.

Something yet to learn by Glitterbombshell

Part 1 of Joy in the midst of these things

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 16 188, chapters: 4/4

emotional hurt/comfort, light angst, angst with a happy ending, fluff, Wei Ying would be a Good Teacher fight me

“Wei Wuxian,” the man grits out, and he pauses with one hand reaching for the door handle. The disciple who had come in to speak to Lan Qiren brushes past him and exits the pavilion without a backwards glance. Wei Wuxian turns back to Master Lan, one eyebrow tilting up in question. “An urgent matter has come up,” Lan Qiren says, every word sounding like it’s being forcibly dragged from him. “His Excellency requests my presence. Their current instructor is ill, I was meant to take over classes for today,” he continues, gesturing towards the tiny juniors. He swallows heavily, and the next sentence sounds bitter. Choked. “I cannot leave them unattended.”

Wei Wuxian just blinks at him.

Or, Wei Wuxian is asked (under duress) to babysit a class of tiny Lan cultivators for just a few minutes. A few minutes turns into an hour, turns into two hours, turns into an impromptu literal field trip and now there's an entire class that is weeks ahead of their curriculum, their most junior disciples have apparently imprinted on Wei Wuxian like baby birds, and Lan Qiren has no one to blame but himself.

A lot of edges called perhaps by hansbekhart

Wangxian, explicit, words: 21 922, chapters: 1/1

semi-public sex, public masturbation, mutual masturbation, anal sex, sex in the cold springs, mutual pining, grief/mourning, injury recovery, ethical dilemmas, this story had two working titles, Ethical Edging, and Boners for Justice, it takes a long time for them to bone but they get there, risk aware consensual patience, edgeplay sort of, 20K words of sad horniness, happy ending, just the tip but not the way you're thinking

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

This story uses CQL characterizations and storyline specifically.

One rogue spark in my direction by hansbekhart

Songxiao / Lan Wangji, explicit, words: 5065, chapters: 1/1

threesome, oral sex, anal sex, spitroasting, anal fingering, switching, touch-starved, grief/mourning, sexual healing, the mortifying ordeal of being known, a deep and human desperation for queer companionship, that escalated quickly, emotional noodle eating, Lift Lan Wangji's Skirts Challenge 2020

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

Just in case anyone was wondering who Lan Wangji had been banging before A lot of edges called perhaps.

Linger in the sun by etymologyplayground

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 39 400, chapters: 1/1

case fic, intimacy, curses, canon compliant, post-canon, cuddling & snuggling, getting together, romance, sexual tension, scent kink...m.. maybe?, WWX loves to teach, fluff, this is so long and it is mostly. nonsexual intimacy! you're welcome, scars, sharing a bed, nonverbal communication, HEAVY on symbolism

"Tell Lan Zhan that I'm weeping uncontrollably," Wei Wuxian says to the juniors. "Tell him I'm truly pitiful and he needs to do everything I say until I'm well again."

Lan Congyi is in the middle of carefully holding his eyelids open to check his pupils, but he still obeys, bless him. "Hanguang-Jun, Senior Wei would like us to tell you that he can't stop crying and he'd like for you to do everything he says until he's better." There's a moment of silence, and then Lan Congyi says to Wei Wuxian, "Hanguang-Jun says he already does everything you tell him."

----

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji find themselves cursed, unable to see or hear each other. They figure things out anyway.

*updated January 5th, 2022*

From my heart's ground by orange_crushed

Wangxian, explicit, words: 37 997, chapters: 1/1

graphic depictions of violence, alternate universe - canon divergence, grief/mourning, corporal punishment, canon-typical violence, vomiting, injury recovery, trauma, blood magic, elemental magic, gardens & gardening, resurrection, dissociation, explicit sexual content, first time, oral sex, language of flowers, angst with a happy ending, family, cultivation... literally, arson, self-harm, suicidal thoughts, spiritual coma, self-esteem issues

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.

Countless roads by SunBlueSun

Wangxian, explicit, words: 5 518, chapters: 1/1

accidental voyeurism, switching, top/bottom versatile Lan Wangji, top/bottom versatile Wei Wuxian, porn with feelings, minor original character(s), love, Hanguang Jun has flowers in his hair

A traveling cultivator finds herself in treed like a cat while Hanguang Jun and the resurrected Yiling Patriarch have sex in a field of flowers and it makes her rethink her entire life.

Only warning I guess is accidental voyeurism and they never find out there was a witness. It's pretty simple and switchy, just boys in love and devoted to each other. (This is CQL 'verse and LWJ is way more of a service top than an unrelenting dom, and naturally there's switching because he's a sweet bottom as well isn't he?)

These colours fade for you only by doodlebutt

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 36 329, chapters: 17/17

alternate universe - canon divergence, fix-it, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending, everybody lives, golden core transfer, golden core transfer fix-it...eventually, hurt/comfort, nightmares, bed sharing, mutual pining, like really unreasonable amounts of pining, slow burn, as in 'practically begging these idiots to kiss' slow burn, sunshot campaign, canon-typical blood and injury, the horrifying ordeal of figuring things out that in hindsight you REALLY didn't want to know, hand to hand combat with the canon plot, playing fast and loose with cultivation concepts, little sweet baby a-yuan, with a very brief cameo by little sweet baby jingyi

What if, before Wen Chao found Wei Wuxian in Yiling, Lan Wangji went looking for him?

What if...

"Tell me who did this to you."

"Aiya, Lan Zhan, I really don't know what you're -- ah!"

Lan Zhan tugged hard on the blue line that bound them together, and Wei Wuxian all but flew across the room, crashing into the bed with a pained groan and sinking to his knees on the floor. He supposed, slightly hysterically, that this must be something like what Jiang Cheng had felt when he had hit Wei Wuxian with all the force of a biting insect the day after his rescue.

"You have no spiritual energy."

"Haha, Lan Zhan, that's funny, because actually it's just that I --"

"You have no golden core."

This diverges from MDZS canon rather than CQL (so no yin iron, etc).

All the silver moons by milkcrates

Wangxian, explicit, words: 10 007, chapters: 1/1

hurt/comfort, post-canon, getting together, first-time, 10k words of TENDER, let wwx take care of lwj agenda, brought to you by: the inherent intimacy of saying each other's names

"Hey," says Wei Ying. It's the softest his voice has gone tonight, but he's close enough for Lan Wangji to– touch him, kiss him– hear him. "Eyes on me."

Wei Ying, thinks Lan Wangji, always.

And he passes out.

Lan Wangji gets injured on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian takes care of him, and lots of feelings are had.

Seldom all they seem by Fahye

Part 1 of Marriage Principles

Wangxian, explicit, words: 24 930, chapters: 1/1

alternate universe - canon divergence, arranged marriage, or rather arranged betrothal, followed by weapons-grade thirst

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

Half cloak & half dagger by Fahye

Part 2 of Marriage Principles

Xiyao, explicit, words: 13 171, chapters: 1/1

alternate universe - canon divergence, kink negotiation (of a sort), good Lan boys marry murder gremlins: the saga continues

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

The unofficial subtitle to this is: Five times Jin Guangyao failed to get the ravishing he desperately wanted, and one time he did.

Stainless by Fahye

Wangxian, explicit, words: 6 576, chapters: 1/1

sex pollen

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

In terms of TV show continuity, this takes place halfway through episode 43, just after Jin Guangyao leaves the Cloud Recesses.

I think, I wait, I hope by Littorella, rinsled05

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 4 070, chapters: 1/1

canon compliant, romance, pining, love, love confessions, falling in love

For years, Lan Wangji has waited. Held back his words, his heart, restrained by a lifetime of discipline. And now—now they are married, bound together for eternity, and the dam is breaking, especially with Wei Wuxian gazing at him as if he’s the lucky one, when it has always been the other way around.

Perhaps now is the time.

Or, the many conversations Lan Wangji has with Wei Wuxian in his head - and one he tries to have in the moment.

*updated November 27th*

Waiting for the remedy by Lise

Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng, teen and up, words: 13 598, chapters 1/1

post-canon, Yunmeng Shuangjie reconciliation, minor injuries, POV Jiang Cheng, Jin Ling just doing the most, difficult emotional conversations, emotional baggage, Twin Prides of Yunmeng feels and dynamics, awkward conversations

This wasn’t the first time he’d been in proximity to Wei Wuxian, so he wasn’t going to panic over it or anything. He’d finish this night hunt, they’d go their separate ways again, and he’d have a firm conversation with Jin Ling about being an interfering busybody.

It’d be fine.

It is not fine. There's a cliff involved.

Series: No new age by everythingispoetry

Wangxian, Xiyao, Nielan, mature

alternate universe - canon divergence, angst, hurt/comfort, permanent injury, recovery, disability, parenthood, character study, thirteen years of Wei Wuxian's death, growing up, family dynamics, self-discovery, mental health issues, grief/mourning, families of choice, developing relationships

Part 1: The map of days

words: 20 442, chapters: 5/5

Surviving the thirty-three lashes is a miracle. Living after the thirty-three lashes is a curse.

Part 2: Although my mind is young, it is not gentle

words: 27 883, chapters: 4/4

Sizhui thinks about the heroes they've learned about in history class, the heroes of songs and poems. After the dust settles, the stories end and everything goes back to normal and everyone lives happily ever after.

Sizhui looks at his father and knows it's all a lie.

Part 3: Yours in no unique condition

words: 5 358, chapters: 1/1

War and love can take everything from a man.

Lan Xichen never thought he would be one of those to pay the price.

(a study.)

Part 4: The anteroom of golden age

words: 92 285, chapters: 9/9

"I no longer belong to the order of the world."

"Neither do I."

He was a boy, chewing on grass and lounging on the swooning bridges of Lotus Pier, just a blink of an eye ago.

Series: Promissory Notes by kakikaeru

Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, Wangxian, Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, teen and up

post-canon, mostly cql canon, canon-typical violence, that Good Jingyi Content, protect the unlannest Lan at all costs, Wangxian through a Juniors filter, vocal cultivation, Lan Jingyi the marble swan opera assassin of the Cloud Recesses, responsible sect leader Jin Ling, worried parents Wangxian, part 4 chapters are stand-alone stories:, chapter 1: they are so married, chapter 2: all the Ouyangs, chapter 3: you are my dad (boogie woogie), chapter 4: you get a baby and YOU get a baby and YOU! YOU GET A BABY, chapter 5: growing up is hard to do, chapter 6: Lan Jingyi no. 1 locker pinup of the Gusu Lan

Part 1: Anyway, here's Wuji

words: 18 045, chapters: 1/1

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

Part 2: Take your love and conquer

words: 4 088, chapters: 1/1

"Should we split up?" Zizhen asks. "They could have gone in any direction from here; I'll take one side and we'll meet on top of the cliff unless we find the trail again."

"No." There's protocol now, that as a Sect Leader, Jin Ling needs to follow. He takes a signal flare out of his sleeve, one of his personal ones, where a large golden peony blooms around a central purple lotus. It'll have Carp Tower mobilized in minutes, and probably also call his Uncle out of Lotus Pier if he isn't up to anything else. "We need a search party."

The story of the rescue.

Part 3: Ok, jiujiu

words: 16 384, chapters: 1/1

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

Part 4: Grace notes, acciaccatura & appoggiatura

words: 18 580, chapters: 6/?

"Do you think," he asks, as Jingyi slides the guan into place, "that if fate had been different, we still would have met?"

Lan Sizhui has a complicated relationship with the past.

*Updated October 24th*

Hold your tongue and let me love by ilgaksu

Xiyao, explicit, words: 2 820, chapters: 1/1

There are a lot of things people don’t know about Lan Xichen. At least half of them, in Jin Guangyao’s estimation, hide in plain sight. He, as the focus of Lan Xichen’s sole and long-standing regard, is one of them. Zewu-jun’s honest opinions of his fellow gentry are another.

Tragedy is not the end by Hobbsy3

Wangxian, Xuanli, teen and up, words: 358 230, chapters: 67/67

graphic depictions of violence, major character death, People die but they (mostly) get better, alternate universe - time travel, torture, hurt/comfort, golden core reveal, canon divergence from Qiongqi Pass, angst with a happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, because Jin Guangshan and Jin Zixun suck, Jiang Cheng is doing his best, Jiang Yanli fixes everything with soup and a baby, Jin Zixuan gets it together, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad Wei Wuxian, good dad Lan Zhan, junior quartet dynamics

When Sizhui, Jingyi, and Zizhen are captured with Jin Ling at the Guanyin Temple, they're sure that Hanguang Jun and Wei Wuxian will fix everything - until Su She stabs Lan Wangji through the stomach, and everything falls apart around them. In a last, frantic attempt to undo the damage Jin Guangyao has done, Wei Wuxian activates a deadly array to send the four juniors back in time, sending them to the morning of Jin Ling's one-month celebration. With the fate of everyone and everything they love in their hands, Sizhui, Jin Ling, Zizhen and Jingyi race to prevent the ambush at Qiongqi Pass and the subsequent fallout, but Jin Guangyao has returned from the future as well, and he has no intention of letting what he wants fall through his hands a second time.

Too gone to stay by Aenya

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 31 858, chapters: 7/7

Wei Wuxian-centric, canonical character death, in non-canonical ways, Wei Wuxian can have a little murder as a treat, canon divergence, canonical character death REVERSAL, canon-typical violence, novel canon, pre-relationship, happy ending

"Seems like it worked,” says a nearby voice.

Wei Wuxian looks in the direction of the speaker with a flinch, the light streaming in from the entryway momentarily blinding. He barely manages to stay upright.

"I guess he wasn’t so useless after all,” the second voice is calmer, and familiar to him.

"Welcome back, Yiling Laozu,” Jin Guangyao says.

or: Mo Xuanyu performs the resurrection ritual while he’s still living in Koi Tower.

Wei Wuxian can have a little murder? As a treat?...

Content warning: Romance by Ariaste

Wangxian, mature, words: 5 911, chapters: 1/1

BDSM, praise kink, nonsexual kink, which turns into sexual kink, WWX's canonical fetishes, kink negotiation, basically a mission to demonstrate to fandom that Kink Can Be Unbearably Soft Actually

Wei Wuxian just wants a little warning before Lan Wangji says nice things.

Lan Wangji just wants to love on his husband, thanks.

Walking Back To You by vesna (mrsronweasley)

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 20 189, chapters: 1/1

hurt/comfort, some graphic descriptions of an injury, getting together, good uncle Lán Qǐrén, wangxian-typical misunderstanding

They bring him in just before dawn. Wei Wuxian does not remember it, not really. He remembers nothing but pain.

Out to get you (to get you) by iliacquer

Wangxian, explicit, words: 41 571, chapters: 8/8

graphic depictions of violence, courtesan!LWJ, assassin!LWJ, dark lord!WWX, switching, power play, bondage, mention of past attempted sexual assault on a minor, past slavery, happy ending

In order to kill the Demon of Yiling, assassin Lan Wangji pretends to be courtesan. Falling in love with Wei Wuxian is an unfortunate complication.

This is an AU where the Wen clan attack much, much earlier and that has all sorts of consequences for our favourite characters.

Grief kindly stopped by ShanaStoryteller

Wangxian, not rated (teen and up, maybe), words: 5 498, chapters: 1/1

alternate universe - canon divergence, identity porn, angst with a happy ending, POV Lan Wangji, AU after WWX gets dropped in the Burial Mounds, light horror, fix-it

Nothing leaves the Burial Mounds alive.

Always light my way by cqlorphan

Wangxian, explicit, words: 27 473, chapters: 3/3

post-canon, getting together, friends with benefits to lovers, wherein dual cultivation may be counted as a benefit, jealous WWX (a little bit), misunderstandings, mutual pining, pining while fucking, angsty sex, top/bottom versatile, topping from the bottom, orgasm delay/denial, coming untouched, dom/sub undertones, the angsty sex happens in the beginning but they get past it dw, blivious LWJ, archer WWX, smart WWX, porn with feelings, probably at least half of this fic is just that, also warning for panic attacks, angst with a happy ending, dual cultivation

Lan Wangji looks down at his own hands, steadying himself. It is easier to think clearly when he is not looking into Wei Wuxian’s eyes. He takes the scroll from his pouch.

“Research has uncovered a method,” he says. He does not mention the forbidden nature of said research, nor does he elaborate on the method itself. He will not venture to speak it aloud. He hands the scroll over.

Wei Wuxian looks at him for a long moment as he takes it, and Lan Wangji holds his breath, waiting for him to decide. Waiting to see if he is at least interested enough in the possibility of a new core to read it.

He is. He does. Lan Wangji might be relieved, if not for what comes next.

Lan Wangji offers to help Wei Wuxian develop a new golden core via dual cultivation. He struggles to keep his feelings in check.

*Posted August 25th*

Rotten work by ShanaStoryteller

Wangxian, Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian, not rated (teen and up, perhaps), words: 63 907, chapters: 8/8

post-canon, protective Wei Wuxian, protective Jin Ling, POV Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng & Wei Wuxian reconciliation, eventually, reluctant matchmaker Jin Ling, this kid is doing his best, pre- Jin Ling/Lan Jingyi

Jin Ling hadn’t thought to keep track of Wei Wuxian.

Clearly that had been a mistake.

Take my breath away by Tabi_essentially

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 3 387, chapters: 1/1

hurt/comfort, soulmates, POV alternating, this is not a coffee shop AU, canon universe, post-canon, in the future, love beyond death, reincarnarnation (kind of), implied Jiang Yanli/Wen Qing

On a hot, summer morning, Lan Wangji has a vision. Wei Wuxian has some ideas about it.

A civil combpaign by Ariaste

Zhuiling (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui), backgroud Wangxian, teen and up, words: 19 645, chapters: 1/1

arranged marriage, the difficulty of arranging your own marriage, combs are the best courting gift, overly subtle courting or overly oblivious courtee?, awkward teenagers, teenage drama, Jin Ling has too many uncles, WangXian's weird flirting, Wei Wuxian's avuncular powers, humor

"And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

Besieged by Ariaste

Wangxian, background Zhuiling (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui), mature, words: 11 370, chapters 1/1

companion fic, not quite a sequel, all the bits that Jin Ling missed, WWX POV, Wei Wuxian's avuncular powers, teenage drama, humor, let's interrogate LWJ's trauma, feelings, fluff, WWX believes children are the future, who DOES Sizhui take after?, answer: Zewu-jun, wangxian are so extremely married, you thought you'd seen Married before, this is maximum Married, WangXian's weird flirting, WWX's hunger for family

"Mn,” says Lan Zhan out of the blue one night. He has been playing guqin on the other side of the room without speaking for two hours, and Wei Wuxian has been noodling with some new ideas for talismans for nearly as long --one of those easy, quiet evenings of companionable silence, until Lan Zhan has thrown this enormous tantrum out of nowhere.

(A companion fic to "A Civil Combpaign". Read that one first.)

You'd break your heart to make it bigger by mrsronweasley

Wangxian, explicit, words: 32 542, chapters: 1/1

soulbonding, first time, case fic if you squint, fools in love, soul boning, pining while fucking

"Wei-gongzi? Wake up! Why won't he wake up? Wei Wuxian!"

Wei Wuxian's consciousness comes back as a slow rushing of sound. Voices, movement, something that sounds like fire crackling. It flickers behind his eyelids, so chances are, it's probably a fire. Then a shadow falls over him and he groans as he attempts to peel his eyes open. It's not an easy business—they somehow feel both dry and sticky at the same time, and when he manages to open them the tiniest bit, even the dim light around him feels like blinding sunlight. There's pressure in his chest, but at least his breathing is fine.

He has no idea what happened.

Or, Wei Wuxian finds himself in a pickle--and it involves Lan Wangji.

Vagabond by xantissa

Wangxian, explicit, words: 65 788, chapters: 20/20

slow burn, mystery, case fic, murders, supernatural, angst and hurt/comfort, extreme fluff, those two are so in love it hurts, frottage, oral sex, anal sex, happy ending, badass! Lan Xichen, canon-typical violence

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

Fanart that made me read this fic.

The absolutely true story of the Yiling Patriarch: A manifesto in many parts by aubreyli

Wangxian, teen and up, words: 19 692, chapters 7/7

in-universe RPF, romance novel, Lan Jingyi's sense of justice, Ouyang Zizhen's sense of romance, featuring a surprise appearance by Wei Wuxian's oft-absent sense of shame, look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, and it's not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, Jingyi rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, post-canon fix-it, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

"Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

"There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner

Wangxian, mature, words: 28 384, chapters: 1/1

post-canon, getting together, love letters, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling & snuggling, literal sleeping together, intimacy, CQL compliant, no plot just feelings, first time, two soulmates figuring their shit out, let Hanguang-jun talk about his feelings agenda

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

FANFICS! (previous rec post)

#mdzs fanfic #cql fanfic #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian fanfic #zhuiling fanfic #xiyao fanfic #xuanli fanfic #resources #mine #reblogs of this post are always tagged as #update reblog!

105 notes · View notes

aithorin · 3 years

Text

Chasing You - Thranduil x Reader

Plot: Imagine overhearing Thranduil’s conversation with Tauriel and running away

A/N-This fic is also posted on AO3 under the same username. I will insert a link to it below. However, this is also a slightly different version as I’ve made a couple of edits. I’ll post the updated version eventually on AO3, but for now this is the only edited version. Also, some of the lines in this are from the movies, so as a disclaimer, I do not own any recognizable content.

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823933

Slight NSFW Warning!

The hooves of your horse thundered in your ear as you pushed it to gallop quickly throughout Mirkwood. All around, the sickened trees passed in a blur, and yet somehow they still managed to loom over you, mocking your troubles with their height. You hunched closer to your horse, looking for comfort, and threaded your fingers throughout its mane. The wind burned at your eyes, causing tears of a completely different kind to well. They mingled with the ones symbolic of your heartbreak, mixing so thoroughly that they became indistinguishable from one another. The wind pulled at both, tugging at them as they trekked down your face. The tears disappeared into the air behind you, the wind having successfully stolen them.

So distracted by your thoughts, you didn’t even notice how the wind had prematurely dried the tear tracks along your face, pinching the skin slightly underneath. All you could focus on was Thranduil. Just the thought of his name sent a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, blurring your vision even more. Moments from your relationship flashed through your mind, and confusion merged with your hurt. You just didn’t understand. All this time he had seemed so genuine. To find out it was all a farce so suddenly only made your anguish sharper. There were no suspicions at all; you had been happy, and you thought that he had been happy too. But as a sob escaped your mouth, you realized that maybe some things weren’t meant to be. Echoes of the conversation you had accidently heard rang throughout your mind, and agony grappled at your heart as you thought about Thranduil’s betrayal.

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

Having finished your chores for the day, you hurried toward the throne room hoping to catch a moment alone with Thranduil. It was difficult to spend time with him considering your relationship was a secret, so every spare moment you had to sneak with him was precious. As you passed by a corridor, muffled voices floated through the air causing your footsteps to slow to a halt. Curious, you crept towards the sound, excitement filling you as you recognized Thranduil’s voice. It was perfect! You’d just wait for him to finish and then maybe you could spend a few moments together. But as the muffled noise turned into clear voices, your excitement quickly diminished as a deep hurt took root within your heart.

“Legolas said you fought well today… he has grown very fond of you.” Thranduil’s deep baritone resonated throughout the room.

A few moments passed before Tauriel stammered, “I assure you my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard.”

“Perhaps he did once...now I’m not so sure.” Thranduil sneered.

“I do not think… you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly silvan elf.” Tauriel stuttered back.

“No, you’re right. I would not.” Thranduil declared, “Still… he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none”

At his words, a gasp left your mouth as your heart plummeted. Both of their heads snapped in your direction, but by then you had already turned and fled down the hall. Tears welled in your eyes as you began to understand the meaning behind his words. You were no different than Tauriel. In fact, you were inferior to her being that your station in life was that of a maid. If Legolas couldn’t pledge himself to the esteemed captain of the guard, then there was no hope that Thranduil would ever truly pledge himself to you either. All this time, you were nothing more than a fling to Thranduil, maybe even less. Did he see your feelings as a game, something to be toyed with? The conviction with which Thranduil spoke his words told you more than you ever needed to know. It was obvious he didn’t share in any of the things you felt. A choke escaped your throat as you realized your relationship was nothing but a lie.

Fleeing from the corridor, you ran to the comfort of your room. The door to your chambers creaked open, and light from the hall seeped through to illuminate it. As you stepped inside, you looked slowly around the room. Nothing seemed right anymore. You felt as though you were suffocating, and with a sudden clarity you knew what you had to do. You had to leave. The thought of staying in Mirkwood made you nauseous. Having to stay and look at Thranduil everyday, knowing that he never cared about you, would only break your heart over and over again. Leaving was the only way you had any hope of moving on. You quickly gathered what meager belongings you had, and hurried towards the stables. Climbing on top of the nearest horse, you saddled your pack and took off without a backward glance.

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

The trees of Mirkwood continued to whiz by, the tears continuously spilling from your eyes creating a distorted view of your surroundings. Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

‘How could he do this to me? I loved him! I gave him everything. My heart, my mind, my trust, my body, everything, and yet in the end he didn’t care at all. It was nothing but a game to him.’ A choked, bitter laugh escaped through the sobs erupting from your throat. Everything just hurt; your heart felt tight, a huge lump in your throat made it difficult to breathe, and your eyes were swollen and tired from crying.

Why, why would he do this to you! You never thought he could be so cruel. Lost in the river of your despair, you failed to notice the sound of legs scurrying across the forest floor until it was too late.

A rustle of leaves sounded to your left before a giant spider leapt from behind the brush causing your horse to rear up in fright. The sudden change in gravity threw you from its back, causing your backside to hit the floor with a hard thud, knocking the breath from you. Letting out a wheeze as you attempted to regain your breath, you looked up just in time to see your horse let out a loud whine before bolting back in the direction you came. By then, the giant spider had turned its attention towards you and moved with a speed that surprised even your elven senses. You scurried back on all fours in terror, the dead leaves crunching beneath your hands. All too soon though, your path became blocked by one of the towering, ill trees that resided in the forest. Still, your arms flailed as you tried to get away, but the spider continued to advance, slowly trapping you in your place. Your breath started to quicken, and terrified gasps resounded throughout the forest. This was it. You were going to die in the forest alone, with the knowledge that no one had ever really loved you. A few stray tears escaped your eyes as you realized just how pathetic you really were. By now the spider loomed above you, its pincers poised above you, ready to strike. Ominous hisses spewed from its mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to watch it deliver the killing blow. Having accepted your fate, your body relaxed, and you waited for the world you knew to be no more.

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

“I want the watch doubled at our borders. All roads. All rivers. Nothing moves but I hear of it. No one enters this kingdom and no one leaves it.” Thranduil ordered, an unspoken warning in his tone, before walking away with a swish of his cloak.

No sooner had he left the throne room was he stopped by a servant.

“Forgive the intrusion my lord, but I couldn’t help overhearing your order and…” The elleth hesitated.

“Out with it, you insolent child! I don’t have all day! You’ve already overstepped your boundaries, don’t push them anymore.” Thranduil said, his patience growing thin.

“Well,” she began, “it’s just...I’m worried about (Y/N). When I stopped by our shared room all of her belongings were gone. I think she went into the forest, but she hasn’t come back. Will she be able to get back into the kingdom with your order?”

At the mention of your name, Thranduil’s blood turned ice cold in his veins. Where could you have possibly gone, and with all of your belongings too? You wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and you knew better than to go into the forest alone. You weren’t trained in the art of combat, and there were too many dangers that lurked in the forest these days. Thranduil’s mind became laced with panic as he ran through all of the possible things that could have happened to you. Were you lost? Injured? Dead? At that last thought, Thranduil swallowed as a hard lump of fear developed in his throat. He had to find you. Now.

He turned to look at the elleth, the cool facade on his face betraying none of the inward worry that he held.

“As king it is my duty to see to the safety and wellbeing of all that dwell within my kingdom. As such, I will personally see to it that (Y/N) is brought back home safe and unharmed.”

At his words, the elleth visibly relaxed. “Thank you my lord. You are most generous and kind.” With a nod of her head, the elleth bowed her head before walking away to return to her duties.

Thranduil turned to the nearest guard. “You,” he said, “Ready my elk. We leave at once.”

“Yes my lord.”

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

Thranduil raced through the forest, looking for any sign of a trail. Suddenly, a lone horse came barreling in their direction, rearing in a panic. The small group of guards he had with him leaped in front to calm it down.

Grabbing its reins, Thranduil inspected the horse, noticing a pack saddled to its back. Peering inside, he saw your possessions and his expression turned grim. Without a word, he swung back onto his elk and charged down the path the horse came from.

Galloping along the path, Thranduil prayed that you were okay. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to you. Meeting you had breathed new life into him. For the first time since his wife died, he actually felt happy, something his own son couldn’t even provide him. Every beat of his heart was dedicated solely to you, and if you were to be taken from him like his wife was, he didn’t think he would ever be able to recover.

Deep in the forest now, Thranduil was beginning to doubt that he’d be able to find you when he heard noises coming from off the path. The hiss of a spider, leaves crackling as someone scrambled. His eyes widened as he realized a spider was attacking someone. Jumping from his elk, Thranduil’s footsteps pounded as he ran, and the sound of metal scraping could be heard as he drew his sword. Bursting into a clearing, he saw a giant spider above someone, poised to kill whoever was trapped. As the spider went in for the killing blow so did Thranduil. Fortunately, Thranduil was faster, and blood spurted as he drove his sword into the spider’s back. The spider howled in pain, limbs flailing as the life slowly drained from it along with its blood. All too soon, the spider dropped dead, and Thranduil hurried to push it off of whoever was trapped beneath it.

Rolling the spider’s body to the side, Thranduil was met with the sight of you curled tightly, hugging your knees to your chest with your eyes clenched shut. Dried tear tracks painted your cheeks, and visible tremors shook your body. Thranduil kneeled next to you as a big weight lifted from his chest. You were alive! Scared and shaken but alive. He had made it to your side in time, albeit he was cutting it a bit close.

Right in front of you, Thranduil slowly reached out to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. At his touch, you jumped and started to shake even harder, your eyes still shut tight.

“Meleth nin,” he spoke softly, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

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

“Meleth nin” you heard a soft voice whisper, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

At the sound of his voice, you wanted to let out a sob. It sounded just like him, but you knew that it couldn’t be Thranduil. There was no way that Thranduil was in front of you. He was back at the palace, most likely atop his throne, while you were here, probably bleeding out from a spider bite. That was it you reasoned. You had been bitten by the spider, and now you were going delirious from its venom before you died. It was the only explanation. He didn’t love you. You didn’t want to open your eyes. If you did the illusion would be shattered. At least this way you could pretend that you wouldn’t die alone, and that your love was here.

But when his hand started to shake your shoulder, the possibility that maybe he actually was here started to seem more like a reality. You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his cerulean ones staring into yours, deep with concern. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him, but with the threat of death looming over you gone, you remembered why you left in the first place. You snatched your wandering arms back and lowered your eyes as more tears suddenly welled in your eyes. ‘He isn’t mine’, you reminded yourself, ‘he never was’. Having him be so close yet at the same time so far made your heart clench painfully in your chest.

“Melamin, are you alright? I was so worried I had lost you.” Thranduil whispered.

Deciding to ignore the endearment, you chose to answer the way your relationship now demanded. That of a respectful servant addressing her king. Still looking down at your feet, you replied meekly, “Yes, your majesty. Thank you for rescuing me. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

At your words, his eyes squinted ever so slightly in confusion. Why were you talking to him like that, as though you were just another one of his subjects? Something else was wrong. You couldn’t even look at him. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the few guards surrounding the clearing leaving just the two of you.

“What is wrong meleth nin? Why can’t you look at me?”

The continued endearments caused the sob that had been stuck in your throat to escape. Why did he insist on continuing the game? Was it not enough that he had taken your heart? Must he continue to squeeze it as well? How spiteful could he be to insist on calling you that?

“Please,” you whispered “Do not continue to jest. My heart cannot take it.”

Thranduil grabbed your hands and with the sudden movement, you finally tilted your head to meet his gaze. Seeing your heartbroken face, he felt his own heart twinge within his chest. He could feel you slipping away and with every passing minute he feared that he would not be able to get you back. “I don’t understand,” he pleaded, “Whatever it is that I have done, tell me, and I will not rest until I have eased your mind.”

His words made your head droop in despair. So he was going to continue to feign ignorance until he could break your heart and see your expression for himself. His insisted cruelty caused the first seeds of anger to break through the dam of your heartbreak. Thranduil might have shattered your heart, but you’d be damned before you’d let him see the effects. You’d get through this conversation, and then part from Mirkwood and put this chapter of your life behind you.

With your newfound determination, you looked at him with your face hard and eyes steely. “Do not think me so naive that I will continue to play along with your game, my lord. You may have fooled me once, but I refuse to let you do so again. You can cease your act of mocking love and concern. Please, just go back to the palace and have a laugh about the foolish maid who believed that a king could ever possibly care for her, and I will be on my way.”

Thranduil stared at you in bewilderment. Where was all of this coming from? Just this morning, everything was fine, and in that short time you now doubted his love for you. What could have possibly happened?

“Whoever has planted this seed of doubt in your mind will wish that they had never opened their mouth,” Thranduil swore gravelly, “I do not know what has caused this skepticism, but know that my feelings for you are honest and true.” He lifted your hands enclosed in his to place a soft kiss upon them.

Looking into his eyes, you were tempted to believe him. He seemed so earnest, but the words that he spoke earlier rang through your mind, “Do not give him hope where there is none”, and your temptations were banished. You let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. YOU were the one who made your feelings toward me clear as day, no one else. If you cannot bring yourself to be honest about anything else, then at least take responsibility for revealing your true feelings about me.”

“I do not know what you speak of!” Letting go of you, he stood from the forest floor and began to circle the clearing in frustration. “Care to enlighten me?”

Crossing your arms, you stood with him. “I heard you. Earlier, in the corridor with Tauriel. With it, the veil from my eyes was lifted, and I am now able to see this relationship for what it is: a complete and utter lie.”

He spun around to face you. “That had absolutely nothing to do with you! It was about Legolas. It, in no way, concerned how I feel about you.”

“It had everything to do with me.” you spoke softly. “If the prince is not allowed to pledge himself to Tauriel, the esteemed captain of the guard, where does that leave me? I am a servant my lord, the lowest of the low, and if the prince cannot be with someone who is far above my own station, why would the king of all people do any different?”

You turned to face him, and saw a guilt stricken look cross into Thranduil’s eyes as he realized the implication of his words.

“Forgive me Meleth. I did not realize the severity of my words when I spoke.” He apologized. He crossed the clearing to stand in front of you. Gently grabbing your shoulders, he looked deep into your eyes, “My feelings for you are earnest and unchanging. You have reminded me what happiness looks like. When you came into my life, I saw glimmers of light that I had not seen since my wife died. The first time I looked into your eyes, my heart thawed and began to beat within my chest again. You are the one who has breathed life back into me.”

Shrugging his hands off, you turned away from him. “Be that as it may, you must believe it someplace deep inside otherwise you would not have spoken as you did. If it really was a mistake, then you would not care if Tauriel and Legolas were together, but you do.”

“No!” Thranduil protested, “I did not realize how selfish I was being when I spoke with Tauriel. If Legolas wishes to be with her so be it. I do not care.” Turning you back around, he gently cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “How could I care if it would cost me you?” He whispered.

Staring into his eyes filled with nothing but love, you felt the weight on your chest slowly begin to lift for the first time in hours. Perhaps there was hope after all. Yet as your overwhelming emotions faded, your mind began to clear, leaving nothing but logic and the cold sting of reality as you reconsidered his earlier words. Casting your eyes to the ground, you said, “As much as it pains me to say it, it does not really matter whether you care or not. In many ways, the words you spoke held nothing but the truth. It’s foolish to believe that we can ever truly be together. I am a maid, and you are a king. This relationship has no future for you surely cannot pledge yourself to me. The people would never accept me as queen.”

Crossing your arms, you turned your back so that he would not be able to see the tears welling in your eyes. “We aren’t even truly together right now. We ignore each other around the presence of others, stealing hidden moments in the dead of night. Do you know how painful it is? To see you look at me so coldly, so uncaringly, in the light of day, yet share in the warmth of your embrace at night. It’s exhausting. Do you have any idea how much it makes my heart ache? All I want is the freedom to speak to you, comfort you, touch you, whenever I wish, but our relationship forbids it! I can’t even send you a simple smile when I pass you in the halls! Too often, I can see the stress of a wasted council meeting etched on your face, and I yearn to soothe you and share in your troubles but I cannot. I did not lie when I said your conversation with Tauriel lifted a veil from my eyes, but I can see that it's different from what I originally thought. I think it would be best for us to part ways right here, and that way we can both move on. Elves are immortal. If I left now, I would be but a flicker on the line that is your life. I’m sure it would not be too hard to forget me and our relationship.” you mumbled quietly.

Thranduil’s gaze turned fiery. “Do what you will. But know this, should you choose to leave this forest do not think for one second that I will ever forget you. Ten, a hundred, even thousands of years from now, I will ache for you every second of every day. Not once will you ever leave my mind.”

His gaze softened, “Please… come home, and I promise we will truly be together, no more sneaking around. I am not ashamed to be with you; we will walk the halls together and share in each other’s troubles as you wish.”

“But your advisors and the people-”

His eyes flashed, “Speak no more of it. Love has slipped from my grasp once before, and I refuse to allow it to again. I am the king of this realm, and if I wish to be with you then the people will have to accept it.”

Hearing his words, you wanted nothing more than to accept, but your doubt and insecurity still lingered near the surface. How could you accept when you knew that you would only hold him back? The people would not be happy, and it would lead to unrest in the kingdom. How could you be that selfish? You couldn’t tear apart an entire kingdom for your own happiness. To make matters worse you wouldn’t even be able to help Thranduil bring about peace. You were a servant for crying out loud; you knew nothing about diplomacy!

As an internal war waged within you, Thranduil noticed the doubt in your eyes holding you back. He could sense that you lied upon a threshold and with one little push, you would surrender your doubts and come back to him. Determined to give you that final push, he glided towards you. Lost within your mind, you didn’t even notice that he had started to move until he had pressed himself against your back. The feel of his hard chest against your back brought an immediate halt to the worries swirling within you. Time came to a complete standstill, and you held your breath in anticipation, nervous yet also excited to see what he would do.

Achingly slow, he lifted a hand to gently brush your hair back, baring your neck. With the back of his hand, he started to tenderly trace a path along the curve of your neck. The hand continued downward, skimming the curve of your breasts to reach its resting place on your belly. Your eyes fluttered closed again in appreciation, and without even realizing, you leaned slightly into him, unconsciously craving to be closer. He bent down, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Tell me Melamin, what troubles you so?”

You shivered as the heat of his breath hit your neck. As he started to pepper your jawline in featherlight kisses, your mind became clouded, but you still managed to share your doubts with him. “I still worry… of the people’s reaction… to our relationship.” you whispered.

Thranduil hummed in response and raised his hand to caress the other side of your jaw. He pressed himself even closer to you and with it a fire that only he could sate ignited within you. “Tell me, does it feel like I care for their reaction? Let go meleth, and I promise you everything will be fine.”

With that, he used his hand to tilt you toward him and leaned down to capture you in a kiss. It started sweet but soon an overwhelming need took over you. The kiss was transformed into a battle of passion, and you turned around to fully face him. Your hands trailed all over Thranduil’s body, sliding up his chest to eventually twist themselves into his hair. With a soft tug, you pulled him even closer to deepen the kiss. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t care. At that moment, all that mattered was him. With every second that passed, your doubts slowly melted away as thoughts of Thranduil consumed your mind. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips and his hands gliding over your hips. You wanted nothing more than to drown in the river of his love.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you opened your eyes to gaze into his. Seeing the love and adoration he held for you in them, you allowed yourself to be drawn into the torrent, and you let go.

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

Afterwards, as you lay cuddled together on the forest floor, Thranduil reached down to entwine your hands together. Resting his head against your shoulder, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of the way and asked once again, “Come home, meleth nin?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you replied, “Yes.”

521 notes · View notes

plant-flwrs · 3 years

Text

some of my ao3 wolfstar recommendations!

i have been reading so much on archive of our own recently, so i thought i’d share a few of my absolute favorites!

also this is only wolfstar rn because i’m obsessed, and most of them are 18+, so, just a warning.

also, if you’re not on ao3, please do yourself the favor and check it out. it’s so amazing and has so much to offer. i have an account that I hope to start posting on over there, right here, so feel free to keep up with me over there!

(and yes, this post IS an open invitation to message me to talk about any of these fics or just wolfstar in general because I need someone to talk about these fics with)

the works are linked, as well as the authors’ accounts. go and show them some love!

The Barista, the Burglar, and the Sofa by SeasOfTrees: Genuinely one of my favorite fics I’ve ever read. The writing is so dry and witty and so absolutely Remus-like, I couldn’t get enough of it. Part of me wished it was an actual series just so I could never stop reading it, but it’s still perfect as a one off.

All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89: This fic RUINED ME. I am going to be completely honest and say that I haven’t been able to bring myself to finish it just because of the PAIN it caused me. If you told me this was a published piece of work and all the Harry Potter books were just fanfictions based on All The Young Dudes, I would believe you with no question. I have come so close to printing and paying for this fic to be bound into a physical copy just because it is so worth it.

Text Talk by merlywhirls: I found this fic one night after crying my body weight in tears because of All The Young Dudes, and I’ve always found texting fics to be fun and lighthearted and just an all around easy read. Remus is a kid with a chronic illness and Sirius is a wholesome pansexual who loves Remus more than anything. Truly adorable. :)

Solntse by lumosinlove (@lumosinlove on tumblr): Oh my god. Okay. So, I’ve never been one for super creative au’s, but this converted me. The idea of Russian!Sirius and a Callboy!Remus makes me melt. In most wolfstar fics, writers use Sirius’ and Remus’ trauma to give them issues in communication, and its done wonderfully, but this fic gives an entire new version of that. The language barrier acts as such a creative hurdle for them to get over, and I loved it so, so, so, much. Also, have google translate ready if you want some extra heart wrenching action. Also, I am in love with @lumosinlove and everything they make <3

Meet You At The Bottom by Remy_Writes5: This made me obsessed with Uncle!Sirius somehow even more than I already was. Also, porn with plot, basically (my kryptonite).

Sweater Weather by lumosinlove: OH MY GOD!!! This fic had me going through a roller coaster of emotions. Once again, never been one for creative au’s, but THIS. This absolutely beautiful piece of artwork had me hooked from the very beginning. The writing is beautiful, the idea is so well executed, and the characterizations are so amazing. It also has a spin off based on some of the original characters, and they are so adorable! Basically, just read everything lumosinlove has ever written, please and thank you.

Casting Moonshadows by Moonsign: Okay, so, I have yet to read this one, but from what heard, it’s like All The Young Dudes but with a different characterization of Remus...? I wanted to give it a try, and I’m adding it here because other people have recommended it to me.

The Kitchens by lumosinlove: Yes, another lumosinlove. I can’t help it. This fic is so beautiful. It has no hesitation in blatantly showing both Sirius’ and Remus’ flaws, while also being so adorable that it hurts. I’m a sucker for royal au’s and this did not let me down.

The Annunciation by bigblackdog: This fic!!! I have little to no knowledge of catholic history, but this fic made me want to. Sirius and Remus are monks set in the Italian renaissance, forbidden love, of course, and the storytelling is so captivating and descriptive. I may not have understood 50% of the religious references, but I sure did enjoy the wolfstar in it.

Dress up in You by MsKingBean89: The ever so talented author, MsKingBean89, my lord and saviour, blessed us with this amazing non-magical, modern, wolfstar, Remus is poor and in a band, Sirius is hot and a hairdresser, masterpiece. Adorable Jilly content in this. It says its incomplete, and usually, that puts me off, but the way this ended is completely fine with me and a genuinely happy ending.

---------

okay! so, there are some of my favorite wolfstar archive of our own fics. i beg you all to read them, just so I can have someone to talk about them with. i also beg you to create an ao3 account, just because it truly is so amazing. i also may or may not be posting my wolfstar greek island au fic over there relatively soon :0 okay love u guys I hope you enjoyed let me know if you want more compiled lists of my fav fics bc I am more than willing to share.

238 notes · View notes

horribletestsubject · 3 years

Text

Fic I just wrote based on These Two art pieces that I’ve drawn and THIS POST by @body-utensil-travels-terrain

———

You’ve spent your life being told you couldn’t. Now there’s a voice telling you that you can.

You remember it distinctly. You were fourteen at the time, just really starting to figure out what you wanted to do with your life (it certainly isn’t what society expected from you— but then, society doesn’t expect someone like you anyway, does it?) when you first heard her voice over the radio in your living room. The words she said resonated with you, the promise and ambition that she spoke with. It was almost like she was talking directly to you.

You do your research. You study hard. You tinker away at things in your garage, supplementing your studies in your own way. And five years later, after you’ve graduated, you put in your application.

A letter arrives a few weeks later, emblazoned with the circular symbol you’ve kept in your mind’s eye all this time, and bold lettering on the front— Aperture Science Innovators. It’s addressed to you. You open it, and your fingers tighten around the smooth paper— “congratulations” it says. You’ve been accepted. At the bottom is Her signature. You trace over it with your fingers. Delicately, as gently as you’d handle an irreplaceable machine part.

Two weeks later your bags are packed and you’re boarding a flight to Detroit. The attendant greets you. You hold up your boarding pass and get on. You land a few hours later. Getting a cab would be too complicated— people don’t like to take the time to read, and most can’t speak the way you do. So you walk to the train station, it’s not too far. Just an hour or two. You’ve walked further before.

Flat fields flow by endlessly as the train rattles down its tracks. You lean your head against the window, watching the hues of gold rush by, blurring on into infinity.

The sun is gone when you pull up outside a strange little town, surrounded by chain link fence. You fish through your bag for the packet you’d been sent— and pull out the temporary ID you’d been given. You show it to the gate guard. He lets you in. A man is waiting to show you your dormitory. You shake your head at his offer of a tour— you’ll explore the place yourself tomorrow. There are a few days before you’re actually needed for orientation.

The room is small and plain. A bed, desk, and dresser, and a small closet. That’s alright. You don’t need much. You hang up your few articles of clothing and tuck your shoes next to the door. The bed isn’t soft, but it isn’t hard. You fall asleep quickly, exhausted from your travels.

The next few days are spent wandering. Visiting the little shops, the stations. Peering into labs where you can. Climbing over fences (they could never keep you out) before quickly retreating as a security guard passed. You don’t want to get in trouble before your internship even begins. You wonder if you’ll see her. But you only hear her voice in announcements as you trigger motion sensors throughout the complex.

When work actually starts, it’s tedious. Getting coffee. Taking documents to the shredder and the incinerator. You don’t usually see the labs. Or, well, much of anything. It’s just a lot of running here and there, back and forth at your superiors’ beck and call. It’s tiring. But you do it— after all, you want to be here, you want to do this— and you never give up.

It’s a few months before you see her— before your internship takes you to the main complex. Now you’re checking inventory, sorting mail, sorting records (and chucking the casualty lists into the incinerator as instructed). Occasionally they’ll call you in to fix the coffee maker or the refrigerator.

You hear her voice once, muffled— she’s talking to someone, to a group it seems, just outside the room you’re in. You look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse. Rosy cheeks and bright-red lips, wavy dark hair flowing around her shoulder, a smile on her face (manufactured, you can tell with just this glance that she’s concealing so very much), a bright red scarf tied around her neck.

Your eyes lock for just a second, and the corner of her mouth creases, dimpling her cheeks. Your heart races— that, that was a hint of a true smile. Warmth flushes your own cheeks and you tear your gaze away. Suddenly shy— much shyer than you’ve ever been before.

It doesn’t make sense to you. Not yet. Not until you start seeing her more. Not until her smiles become more frequent and pointed. Not until her gaze lingers on you a little longer than before each time. The fluttery feeling doesn’t go away— and you’re determined more than ever to reach her.

Of course, it happens sooner and easier than you think. She starts requesting you specifically to bring her her coffee. You take a red pen and draw a little smiley face next to her name before giving it to her. When you come up to her office, there’s a sticky note left on the monitor, in that oh-so-hard to read yet absolutely beautiful cursive of hers. At the end of it is a smiley face, so much more elegant and less childish than yours. You keep the note. On her next cup, you add a heart to the dot of the ‘i’ in her name. You start responding to her notes with little notes of your own, your rounded, sometimes scratchy handwriting a stark contrast.

The notes are never there when you get back. You like to think she kept them. You’re pretty sure she did.

A year after you arrive, your internship is over, and you’re up for a promotion— junior mechanic. Probably still more of the same, but you’ll be getting a salary now (not that you really have any use for it since Aperture provides your housing) and you’ll have a permanent place. But you’ll see her less. You’ll miss that, of course— but you’re finally moving beyond your station, moving up in the company.

The day before your internship ends, you get another note. “Wanna get coffee together tomorrow?” Your heart leaps. You scribble out your answer just beneath her writing.

You’re sitting across from her at the cafe table. The cafe serves the same stuff as the cafeteria, but it’s decorated more quaintly, and always costs more for some reason. Maybe because there’s sunlight coming through the windows.

“So, headed up the ladder,” she begins after the two of you sip your drinks (well, she sips her drink, you’re too caught up in the crimson of her lips). “I guess I won’t be seeing as much of you now.”

There’s something behind her cheery voice, a sadness that you’ve caught glimpses of before, a wistfulness deeper than her words. You look up, catching her gaze for a moment and nod in response.

“Well, this is nice. Maybe we should do this more often. Once a week, at least? Or you could come over to my place. We could spend time together. As friends, or something.” With that, she gives you a wink. Your cheeks flush bright red.

You catch the implication right away. Your hero, your inspiration— and now here you are sitting across from her at a cafe while she all but outright asks you out.

You thought you’d be excited for things to grow beyond the notes and the gestures. But you feel different than that. After the initial jolt, the initial flutter, you look back over at her and you see the chasm yawning out between the two of you. The mountain she’s perched on, the valley you’re standing in. Your scratchy print against her elegant cursive, your short, bitten nails against her sharp manicure, your messy ponytail against her shiny waves. You look down at your simple intern’s badge, then over at her emblazoned one. She doesn’t even have a title listed— everyone knows who she is.

You’re miles apart, even if you might have seemed to be closer.

You stand up, your throat knotting up as you shake your head. You can’t look at her now, but you can practically feel the disappointment in her face as she murmurs “oh.” You want to explain but you can’t, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. The last thing you want is to turn Her, your idol, the one who makes your heart flutter, the reason you came here in the first place, down.

But you can’t do this now. Not yet. Not until you’ve reached the top of the mountain. Not until you’re close enough for her to reach out her hand and pull you the rest of the way up.

“Let me know if you change your mind,” she says.

You pause, halfway to the door. You turn back just enough so that you can glimpse her, and give a tiny nod.

After that you throw yourself into your work. Up to senior mechanic, then technician, then engineer— you’re working on Aperture’s new technology now, its most important projects. But you’re still not close enough. Into the test chambers you go at the CEO’s behest, defying death and physics at breakneck speeds, trusting in the tech you’ve helped create to ensure your survival.

Sometimes you look up and see her watching from the observation room, the tell-tale flash of red. You don’t look too long.

The CEO falls ill. He leaves a disturbing message. You try not to think too much of it— you’re almost there.

Your superior fails a test. You’re not surprised. Not hurt, not sad. It just happens and now you’re in the upper echelon. Now you’re at the top— now, you can reach out to her again. Tell her you’ve changed your mind. You can be equals now.

You go to her office. She isn’t there to answer the door. “Don’t you remember Mr. Johnson’s last request?” They say to you. You tried to block it out, but you remember.

You use your pass on a high security door. It opens. Your name is emblazoned too now. Just like hers was.

Before you is a massive operating system. On the screen reads a message: “transfer complete. transfer successful. writing data : do not disconnect subject.”

She’s lying inside a tube-like compartment. A transparent coffin. Wires hooked up to her. Eyes closed. Lips still ruby red.

You reach out and touch the glass. There’s no response. There won’t be a response.

This technology is untested. This is the first human-AI interfacing project Aperture has conducted. There’s only a fifty percent chance it will work, and even if it does, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s gone. You’ll never clasp her small hands inside your own calloused ones, tuck your head against her shoulder, press your lips against hers.

You’ve finally reached the top of the mountain. Finally reached her. But it was too late. When you crested the summit, she was already gone, and there was only a spatter of crimson left behind to show that she was ever there at all.

#portal #fanfiction #portal fanfic #portal fanfiction #chell #chell portal #portal chell #caroline portal #portal caroline #chelline #cheroline #chell x caroline #portal au #intern chell #intern chell au #my writing #cinna writes #might edit and post to AO3 at some point #but for now have the rough draft

39 notes · View notes

supersickies · 3 years

Link

Summary: "MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her Ph.D. she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it.

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.”

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!”

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it."

Peter is basically on his death bed, but MJ has a plan.

A/N: Yay! @sicktember day two! I can't lie this is really the only other sicktember fic that I have complete. Everything else is simply a WIP or merely a figment of my imagination just hoping to be made into an actual work. But who knows! Maybe I'll muster up some motivation between now and when I go see Shang-Chi in a few hours! Either way here's my first (of many) PeterMj fics for Sicktember 2021! Read it here or click the link to read on AO3!

EDIT: LMAO I FORGOT TO POST IT BELOW THE CUT BUT ITS HERE NOW SORRY !!

MJ wasn’t really sure what she was trying to prove when she decided to take a microbiology course. Yes, she graduated from a STEM school (as valedictorian with honors, thank you very much) but college science courses like this were a whole other ballpark. Especially as a journalism major. But hey, she needed the STEM credit. That and her adorable (insufferable) boyfriend practically begged her to take the class with him.

And who was she to say no to Peter?

So that’s how she found herself on the floor of his dorm, notecards of test questions scattered about, trying with all her might to study for their first midterm. But something was keeping her from concentrating.

That something being her boyfriend, hacking up a lung.

Again, MJ wasn’t a STEM major, but if she were going for her PHD she would bet he had a raging case of bronchitis. Not that the boy would ever admit to it.

“I can’t get sick MJ. It’s probably just some dust in the air.”

“Seriously Em, I just swallowed wrong that’s all.”

“My throat’s dry! I’m not sick!”

MJ had heard it all in the past few days, and she believed none of it.

She had seen Peter when he was ill, long before the spider bite. In fact she had seen him sick a bunch of times, because pre-bite Peter was quite the sickly kid. She noted that this current “mystery cough” he had now was eerily similar to the one he had during their 6th grade holiday choir concert, and he sounded a lot like he did in 8th grade when he could barley talk for their group presentation on The Outsiders.

Not that she took note of all the times he was sick. She wasn’t obsessed, just observant.

(She was a little obsessed).

But it doesn’t take an overly observant girlfriend to know that Peter should be in bed and resting right now. Especially when he could barley manage to catch a breath.

MJ tenses as she hears the deep chesty coughs come from where Peter sits studying at his desk. She holds her tongue, not wanting to poke the bear more than she already had. Peter would never and has never in his life gotten angry at Michelle, but the more she had pushed him to admit that he wasn’t feeling well, the more annoyed he was becoming. So she stayed quiet.

But Peter didn’t.

It seemed as time went on, Peter’s coughs became harsher, deeper, wetter even. MJ couldn’t help but grimace at the wheeze that was also now very evident in his breathing.

She glances up at him, his eyes glazed over with fever and his nose burred in micro-bio notes, seemingly unaware of the world around him and the virus raging in his lungs. MJ stifles a sigh, feeling fed up with her decision to keep quiet. She sets aside her flashcards and lays her head in her arms as she weighs her options.

She could continue to push and try to beg Peter to admit that he was unwell. But Michelle knew that would only lead to more defiance, so that was out of the question.

She could also simply force him to rest. She knew she had the capacity to get him into bed with just a look, but the idea of doing so made her feel uncomfortable. This was her boyfriend, not some animal she could just boss around.

Her feet kick in the air behind her as she continues to wrack her brain. She listens despairingly to Peter’s coughs as she thinks, and if she’s being honest, just the sound of his hacking was making her throat feel kinda scratchy too.

Wait. That could be something.

What if it wasn’t just Peter who wasn’t feeling their best.

MJ was known to be prone to migraines, but hadn’t had one in a while thanks to a medication she had started. But what if, hypothetically, maybe she’d accidentally missed a dose?

MJ takes another glance at Peter, who was still zoned in on his own study guide, before making the first move in her grand plan.

She groans.

It’s too loud or overly painful sounding, but hopefully enough to warrant some alarm from her boyfriend.

And it has the desired effect, as out of the corner of her eye she sees Peter stop his studying and glance at her. Now, with his attention, she takes it up a notch. She groans slightly again, this time adding a wince and an eye rub.

She hears Peter make a soft concerned noise. Bingo.

He’s sill looking at her, so she does her best to look just as rundown and sick as she can. It works.

“Em? You okay, babe?” Peter’s voice is gravely and nearly gone, but she can hear the worry in his tone. She’s got him right where she wants him.

She turns her head to answer him, her eyes squinting to make it seem as though the lights were making the headache worse.

“Hm? Oh, no yeah everything’s fine, Pete.” MJ’s voice is usually deeper and raspier than most, but she really cakes it on for this. Again, desired effect achieved.

“You really don’t sound great, Em. You sure?” His sentence is punctuated with a rough coughing fit, ironically enough. But even as the fit dies down his attention stays on MJ, who is now rubbing her temples like her life depended on it, both eyes squeezed together tightly.

When he sees her miserable demeanor he quickly (yet shakily) abandons his own work to sit on the floor beside her.

“Seriously, MJ.”

She looks up at him with pitiful eyes, time to really sell it Michelle. She sighs, “M-My head just kinda hurts…It’s nothing.” She caps her Oscar worthy performance with another wince before burying her head back in her folded arms.

She feels his way too warm hand on her back as he rubs it in an attempt to comfort her.

He’s still buying it.

Maybe she should get a minor in theater performance?

“You sure? This doesn’t look like nothing.” He questions hoarsely. Now that he’s closer to her she can almost hear the crackling in his chest when he breathes. She had to get him to rest now or else this shit was going to get way worse.

“I-I think I may have forgotten my pill this morning. I can’t remember. I think I was just so anxious about the exam that- I don’t know…e-everything’s so fuzzy, Peter.” She says quietly, letting out a shaky breath just like she would if her head were actually pounding.

“Oh, Emmy.” He coos. “Come on, you need to lay down.”

“But the midterm-“

“Hey, the midterm can wait. You’ve been working hard, okay? Take some time to take care of yourself.”

Practice what you preach, Parker.

“Will you lay with me?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically small as she looks up at him, eyes still scrunched in “pain” but full of emotion. She’s laying it on thick. The things she does for this boy.

“‘Course I will, Em.”

And jackpot. He bought it. What a sucker. At least he’s pretty!

MJ does a victory dance in her head as she lets him help her stand and climb onto his unmade twin bed. She waits for him to climb in and join her, but frowns when he turns and begins to to walk away. She quickly grabs his wrist and once again dons her best pitiful sick person face.

“Stay. Please.” She “begs”, which works again (of course). Peter’s face breaks into a sad smile.

“Just turning off the lights, Emmy. I’ll be right back, I promise.” He leans over and kisses her on the forehand, and she does her best not to think of all the germs he may have actually just passed onto her. She had him in the palm of her hand, she couldn’t break the illusion now.

For the full effect, she lets out a few pained groans here and there as he turns off the ceiling and desk lights in his room, leaving them under the glow of the spidey string lights she’d bought him as a dorm-warming gift.

He’s rather sluggish as he makes his way back and up onto his bed. MJ figures he’ll be out as soon as his feverish head hits the pillow. And she’s basically right, as he lets out a huge yawn as soon as he curls up next to her.

“Get some rest, Em.” He murmurs, already taking his own advice. “‘M right here if you need me.” He snuggles closer to her with a sigh, his arm wrapping around her torso and face pressing into the side of her shoulder. Only moments later soft snores are coming from his mouth.

“You too, dork.” She responds.

Mission accomplished, MJ thinks triumphantly.

#sicktember #sicktember2021 #spideychelle #sick peter parker

16 notes · View notes

piracytheorist · 3 years

Text

Fanfic Self Promo: KnightRook

I decided to make a few self-promo posts on my older fics, starting with the ones centered on KnightRook! All are short one shots or drabbles, but they’re worth a little promo after all this time. They’re in a list of older ones first.

Missing Knight | T, 2.4k words, written 16 Oct 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Speculative fic about Detective Rogers meeting the girl who, unbeknownst to him, is his own daughter.

I wrote this a little after 7x02 aired, before we knew anything more about Killian’s daughter. I was completely off with it, but I’m still quite happy with it.

A Young Tempest | G, 1.3k words, written 20 Oct 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian Jones raises his daughter and learns things along with her.

Another speculative fic about Killian’s history with his daughter. Once again, completely off, but it’s one of my favourite stuff I’ve written.

A Song for Goodnight | G, 1.8k words, written 28 Nov 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Alice Jones I sings a lullaby to her son. A long time later, Killian Jones sings the same lullaby to his daughter. Warnings: Canon character death in the past.

I have feels about Killian singing his mother’s lullaby to his daughter. Some of these made it into this fic.

Untitled ficlet of Killian thinking about the white elephant he gave Ella | Tumblr link

A Family by Choice | G, 3.3k words, written 04 Feb 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: The curse is broken, everyone’s memories are back, and Roni with Weaver find a way to remove the poison from Rogers’ heart. But it’s not easy nor perfectly safe, and it might just as well pull that family apart again rather than bring it back together.

This one is a little sad, as usual with me. But again, lots of feels.

The First Rain | G, 590 words, written 25 Mar 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Alice is finally free and gets to explore how being under the rain feels.

This one includes only Alice, but it’s got a lot of focus on KnightRook. (If you thought you’d find happy stuff on my fic, you thought wrong. KnightRook was brimming with angst and I milked the hecc out of it)

Mother’s Day | G, 650 words, written 14 May 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Modern AU. Alice makes something for her papa for Mother's Day.

I felt that Killian deserved a little more love and appreciation for raising such a kind human as Alice all on his own. Father’s day doesn’t get as much appreciation as Mother’s day, especially considering it’s usually after school starts summer break. So I felt that in a modern setting, Alice would choose to celebrate her father and their love for each other on Mother's Day at some point.

Poor Old Man | G, 530 words, written 12 Mar 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: While in the tower, Killian realizes he's growing old. But not alone.

There’s a sea shanty with the same name, but only the title has a reference to the story. I just thought that it would be interesting to see Killian, who’d spent his centuries in Neverland not expecting to survive his revenge mission, realize that he’s not only actually growing old, but that he’s also got someone to love and love him back as he does.

Sad drabble of “What if Killian hadn’t managed to save Alice from being pulled into her worst nightmare in the finale?” Like, really sad. | Tumblr link

Sad Old Hook drabble in direct response to the fic above, because he did end up old and alone. Be sad with me, people. | Tumblr link

Marks | T, 1k words, written 15 June 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Little Alice wonders why she doesn’t have any marks on her back, like her papa does. Warnings: Mentions of past physical abuse of a teenager

If you know me, you know I headcanon Killian having multiple scars on his body, many particularly from the time he was a indentured servant as a kid/teen. Being the only one who Alice sees in her first years, she thinks that she’ll grow to have such marks on her body. This is a bit of a melancholic take on Killian trying to explain it to her.

Untitled ficlet about Old Hook “fusing” with OG Hook, becoming one with him. | Tumblr link

A New Experience | G, 1.3 words, written 19 July 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian makes a re-imagining of a storm in the tower for Alice.

Humans have more senses than vision. In this story, Killian does his best to create an experience for Alice by invoking her other senses. (Also nerding out for my music knowledge by adding an ocean drum)

Sad drabble about how Killian seeing his daughter pull away out of fear of hurting him sometimes hurts worse than the curse in his heart. | Tumblr link

Under the Weather | G, 2.2 words, written 12 Nov 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Young Alice gets very ill and Killian tries to help her.

Don’t let my habit for angst worry you, this has a happy ending. The medicine techniques are probably inaccurate, but I wanted to focus on a scenario of Killian trying to heal Alice with the very very limited sources he has.

Remembering Alice | G, 424 words, written 04 Dec 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: After Lucy's birth, Killian can't help feeling sad as he remembers how his daughter is forced to live away from him.

It is what it is. A short angsty thing. Only Killian appears here, but the focus is on KnightRook.

A Merry Little Christmas | G, 1.6 words, written 24 Dec 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: This year, Rogers and Tilly won’t spend Christmas Day on their own.

I don’t participate on Secret Santa and similar events, cause they stress me out over producing a specific kind of content at a specific time. However, all the love people gave to that year's KnightRook Secret Santa inspired me to write a kinda independent contribution, which came out as this. It may not be Christmas yet but the warm, fuzzy feelings are the same!

Untitled ficlet about re-awakened Killian thinking how his true self conflicted with Rogers’ memories and original goals. | Tumblr link

I barely remember writing this one, lol. I think, it may have started as a meta post, then it took a fanfic route on its own. Fics be doing that. I’ll probably post it on AO3 at some point, too.

Outward-Bound | T, 2.5 words, written 20 Mar 2019 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Old, dishevelled, broken-hearted Hook is drowning his sorrows in alcohol, when he happens upon a familiar face, someone he never imagined he’d see again. Warnings: Depiction of alcoholism

Oh, this be sad! Again, only Killian appears, but the KnightRook feels are prominent.

Sad (shocking, I know) drabble about Killian being taken away in the ambulance in 7x20 | Tumblr link

The Dreams That Won’t Come True | G, 2.1k words, written 14 Sep 2019 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian and Alice find a way to be together through their dreams... but it doesn't end up being what they expected.

That made me sad. Almost made me cry when I first wrote it, and I’m very hard to cry.

Bonus Fics!

Untitled ficlet with Robyn and Killian; three moments between them | Tumblr link

Accepting Happiness | G, 1k words, written 26 Nov 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: A little after reuniting with Alice, Killian takes a moment to try and let everything sink in. Hooked Queen, open to your interpretation.

Some introspective thoughts on how Killian and Regina would feel, right after the climactic ending of the finale, the one set before the final scene. Only Killian and Regina appear, but KnightRook is in focus.

#KnightRook #kr ff #Alice Jones #Alice Jones ff #Killian Jones #Wish Hook #Wish Hook ff #piracytheorist writes

24 notes · View notes

umbry-fic · 3 years

Text

kakurenbo

Summary:

"How do you always find me?" Colette would ask every time, pouting.

"Because I'm the best seeker around for miles!" Lloyd would declare, grinning.

Their disastrous first game of hide-and-seek, and a promise made between children.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Genis Sage Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving & Genis Sage Rating: G Word Count: 2565 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 27/09/2021

Notes: A short fluffy fic about hide-and-seek, featuring a lot of kids being kids!

~~~

Their first game of hide-and-seek, when Colette was eleven, was… something of a disaster. Even that was something of an understatement, considering the situation she found herself in now - shivering and alone.

Lloyd was the one to introduce it, like always, this game where one person covered their eyes and everyone else ran around like headless chickens. He was the one that coaxed her and Genis into trying out the games that they were all no stranger to - having spent many years peering out the window at the other children, caught in the middle of merriment - but had never experienced for themselves. He would clamour on about whatever exciting game had caught his interest at the moment, gesturing wildly, infectious energy spreading from him. So much, that even Genis couldn’t help but succumb, leading the three of them to make plans in hushed whispers during class, always in danger of getting an earful from Professor Raine but revelling in the thrill of it.

And then they would carry out their plans, clumsily, but always with childish exuberance flooding the air. Giggles bubbling from her chest while Lloyd grinned, Genis letting out a laugh of his own. It would end in disaster half the time - things just had a tendency to go awry when it was the three of them - sometimes burying them head-to-toe in mud, sometimes completely drenching them, and sometimes leaving them covered in tiny scratches and bruises, though they were never happier.

They never learned their lesson. Because they did it, over and over again, her and Genis always following Lloyd’s lead. It was so easy to fall into step behind him, to trust in him to bring them on fantastical adventures full of joy and wonder, that they had once barely known. Like he was a captain, leading his measly, but very enthusiastic crew, onwards with large, confident steps.

Which led to them starting an ill-advised game of hide-and-seek in front of Dirk’s house in the late afternoon after school, each one of them raring to win. Even the usually reserved Genis was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a competitive fire burning in his eyes. The matter of setting boundaries, one of the most important parts of hide-and-seek, had slipped their minds completely. Or perhaps it had never occurred to them at all, three children utterly lost in the heat of the moment.

The games their classmates played were always confined to the school grounds, the insistent ringing of the bell by Professor Raine a sign to stop or face her wrath.

Out here, there was no indicator for the game to end, no barrier as to how far they could wander. They could go on forever if they wished to, until they disappeared beyond the edge of the forest, perhaps even past the edge of the world.

And that was how Colette came to be sitting here, in this log that acted as her hiding spot, for the past two hours.

She’d been confident that no one would find her here - this massive log hollowed out by rot that she had only found by complete accident, tripping and tumbling head-first into this space on one of the days that she’d wandered into the fringes of the forest to get away from everything. She’d sat up rubbing her head, hoping there wouldn’t be a bump arising in the next few hours - only to find that she couldn’t see past the entrance of the log, wreathed in deep green, the overgrown leaves hiding her away from the world. Crawling out had revealed that the entrance was completely obscured, nigh invisible to someone who didn’t already know it was there.

It had become her go-to spot, when she just needed to be alone, to bury her face in her knees, let the weight of everything press down fully and leave her in the form of sobs that wracked her shoulders, her back trembling, here where no one could hear her.

Past the river, turning right at the stone that resembled Noishe, pushing past the branches that scratched at her skin.

The same path she had followed as Lloyd had bellowed out the countdown, hands cupped over his mouth and voice audible even through the denseness of the forest.

She’d sat here, relaxed with her legs stretched out before her, feeling ever so proud of herself. Her first game of hide-and-seek, and she would be clinching the victory!

That certainty had given way to doubt as time continued its inexorable march, each second almost tangible as Colette struggled to keep track of them. It felt like they were all piling atop each other, her mind sluggish as her eyelids grew heavy. The cold wasn’t helping matters - the morning had certainly started off more chilly than usual, but it hadn’t been this bad. The temperature must have plunged since she’d gotten here, and it was enough to make her huddle her knees close to her chest, rubbing her hands together as she shivered.

She knew she’d been here for too long, but she didn’t want to leave, an uncharacteristic stubbornness gripping her. It wasn’t fair that she was the one who had to leave and risk getting tagged! That would mean immediate defeat!

It wasn't fair... But nothing was fair...

No, she would stay here, she decided, clinging on to the idea of victory, of winning the bet that she’d made with Lloyd. She would be the one to snack on the last of Grandma’s odd number of baked cookies! No more would she have to duel Lloyd for the rights to it, a duel that usually ended with the two of them rolling across the ground, each aiming to subdue the other with tickles. The victorious would get to experience a delightful sweetness that melted in the mouth, while the loser had to watch the final mouth-watering cookie disappear.

She would spare herself the trouble this weekend by deciding things, here and now.

The heaviness continued to press on her, however, no amount of painting imaginary scenes of playful dogs on the walls keeping it away. The darkness claimed her not soon after, head falling slack against the wood behind her.

~~~

She awoke with a violent sneeze, the shivers returning in full force as she wrapped her arms around herself.

She registered a thudding sound overhead, and glanced up with bleary eyes. It appeared that sometime during her sleep, the heavens had opened up. It would certainly explain why it was so cold.

The roof appeared to be leak-free, thankfully, though there was a shallow layer of water filling the bottom of the log, even more slowly seeping in through the entrance. The bottom of her white robes was submerged, and she knew they’d be heavy if she attempted to stand, water falling off her in rivulets.

Colette had to concede by now that staying in here wasn't as comfortable as she'd once thought it would be, her legs starting to cramp from being squeezed in this position for so long.

Where were Genis and Lloyd? Was Genis still hiding, or had he been found? And what about Lloyd? Was he still running around everywhere, poking his head in every nook and cranny, peeking around every corner, trying his very best to find her?

Or had he given up entirely?

That last thought sent something dark crawling into her heart. And no matter how much she told herself that it was just a stupid fear her tired mind was conjuring up, for she knew she wouldn't be stuck in here forever, knew that she would most certainly be seeing her friends again... It was futile. The cold could only spread, a cold deeper than the shivers she currently felt.

She was alone here. Alone, in a way she hadn't been for a long time. She hadn't realised, just how much she would miss the company of her friends when they weren't by her side.

Was this what it would feel like, once she left everyone behind? She would be all alone then too. Where no one could see her, or hear her, or even know where she was... Where the only thing she knew would be silence, eating away at her...

She buried her face in her knees, but there were no tears this time. She was too tired to move, and it felt like she was gradually becoming as motionless as the wood that surrounded her.

Slowly rotting…

The rustling of leaves at the entrance gained her attention, her head raising as she realised that the thudding had grown significantly softer in the time that had passed.

She watched, as slowly, a hand poked through the curtain of green, followed by a familiar head of brown hair, and then the entire body of a boy, tumbling to a stop before her. It was almost strange to gaze upon a human again after not seeing one in so long, but it was just Lloyd. Familiar old Lloyd, if a very drenched Lloyd, hair falling into his eyes and clothes two shades darker than usual.

"I finally found you! Wow, this is a good hiding spot," Lloyd said in a whisper as he picked himself off the floor, unwilling to talk loudly in the sacred confines of the log. Only to bang his head against the top of it, letting out a little squeak as he quickly sat down, rubbing his head sheepishly.

"It's my private little spot," she whispered back, smiling at Lloyd’s antics. The words felt a little foreign in her ears after such a long period of silence, but it felt good, to finally say something. To hear her voice again.

"Oh! Sorry for intruding..." The tip of Lloyd’s ears flushed a little red, his expression shifting minutely. Why, she didn’t know.

She only knew that it made giggles burst out of her, the strange misery that had been filling her chest vacating instantly like it had never been there, the hole it left behind filled with that bright happiness she always felt in Lloyd's presence. "Don't be silly, Lloyd. I'm glad you found me.”

I was starting to think you never would…

"I'm glad I found you too! I promise, I'll always find you!" Lloyd declared with a confident grin, his hand grabbing hers. And despite the droplets of water rolling down his hand - for he must have been looking for her even in the heavy rain - his fingers were so, so warm. She couldn’t help but grip onto his hand tightly, letting the ever-present warmth he exuded chase away the cold biting into her bones, let it stop the shivers, even if for just this moment.

“Now, let’s go home,” he said gently, leading her out into the open, the word “home” echoing in her heart. Always leading her, with her hand in his. It was how she knew she was safe.

In the outside that she’d nearly forgotten existed, rainwater dripped from leaves, creating an almost mini-shower that landed on her face and made her blink.

“Where’s Genis?”

“Oh, he was hiding by the riverside. I found him pretty quickly! He’s gone home. But, uh,” Lloyd muttered, averting his gaze. “Your father’s here. You’ve been gone for quite a while.”

“I see…” she murmured, head bowing.

Father would no doubt scold her harshly once she got home. The Chosen wasn’t supposed to partake in such frivolous activities, not least ones that endangered her. Such irresponsible behaviour wouldn’t be easily forgiven by the Church.

“It is my fault for not setting a time limit! Dad’s hammered that into my head already, so I can just tell your father that!”

“No, it’s fine,” Colette replied, shaking her head. “Thank you, but I was the one who decided to stay in there for so long.” She couldn’t even explain it now, why the need to do so had been so strong, so insistent. It had been a foolish thing to do.

Some strange act of defiance, nothing more than a childish impulse - the kind not allowed of the Chosen.

“Hey, it’s not that serious!” Lloyd retorted, chasing away her thoughts as the two of them fell into a playful argument that lasted until they left the darkness of the forest and stepped back into the dim light of the evening, washing the world in a coat of warm orange and pink.

Most people would label this a terrible experience. One that ended in Father berating her, and both her and Lloyd falling victim to a terrible cold, as Genis lamented having gone along with everything.

Yet she cherished it anyway. The aftermath wasn’t all bad, after all. Lloyd had recovered first, and spent the days where she remained on bedrest sitting by her bedside, feeding her cookie after cookie, taking none for himself. “A treat,” he exclaimed, waving another cookie in the air and dropping crumbs everywhere as she alternated between sneezing and laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

And she couldn’t help but paint the promise Lloyd had made into vivid memory, memorise the warmth of his hand.

Though she never did figure out how he found her.

The answer to that question continued to elude her in future hide-and-seek games, where Lloyd never failed to sniff out her hiding place, no matter how hard she tried. Scarily fast too. Maybe he just possessed a good eye?

In response to her grumbling and pouting, he would only grin. And declare, “Because I'm the best seeker around for miles!"

He never made mention of the promise he’d made her. To him, surely it must have been nothing more than a trivial turn of phrase, not to be taken seriously and easily forgotten.

That was alright. It was enough for only her to remember, and to continue having fun with her friends, in the time she still had left.

~~~

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around Lloyd, glad to feel his warmth again after weeks of empty coldness. "For... finding me."

How strange of her, to put it that way. What Lloyd had done was tirelessly work to restore her soul, to let her take control of her body again instead of being locked behind a thousand chains. But it truly felt like he had reached into the darkness and found her, pulled her out into the light.

Just as he’d done when they were little children still filled with naive hope, in the hollow of a log. And countless times after. Always leading her, back into safety, back into the world, back home. Sometimes playfully, sometimes desperately, but always, always ensuring he never let go.

She felt Lloyd's laughter reverberate through her, shaky but full of joy.

"I promised, didn't I? That I would always find you."

How silly, she thought, burying her face in his chest as laughter shook her shoulders as well. How silly that he would still remember such a trivial little promise. How silly of the both of them. Like it meant the world to him in the same way it did to her.

His hands resting on her back, he pulled her closer, and she could not be any more at peace.

Here, where she was safe in his arms. Here, where hope still shined strong, and childish joy still thrived.

Here, where she never needed to hide, and so would never be lost again.

#fanfiction #one shot #tales of symphonia #colette brunel #lloyd irving #genis sage #yeah this is a lot of posts at once #but today has been emotionally draining #and this is just something nice to do

5 notes · View notes

pseudoneiiric · 3 years

Text

meta post: ocd, mysophobia, and a revelation on my part.

not to mention that a really important part of lili’s backstory is… her germaphobia. she has persistent delusions accompanied by visual hallucinations where she sees people as “parasites”, which visually manifests as them rotting or decomposing. because of that, she wears gloves all the time and is repulsed by physical touch. but when she meets c (whose real name is vincent) in person, she pretty much instantly goes for skin-to-skin contact with him, where she takes off her glove and holds his hand. and like, sure, that’s sweet, but that’s really not how mental illness… works. in the slightest. she doesn’t react at all when his hand touches hers, despite the fact that she has literally had panic attacks in canon from touching things without her gloves. and it gives off this implication that mental illness can be cured with romance somehow, and that’s a really bad take!

this feeds into fandom understanding that like, well, if lilian sees vincent as pure and allows him to touch her, then Obviously she’d let him kiss her, they could probably have sex, etc. and like… she’s canonically asexual though! and that brings us to the other implication, that asexuality is somehow… caused by something. like, there’s nothing in canon to state that lilian experiences sexual attraction (or even really romantic attraction, like i know etherane went off in heaven’s gate and did a lot of ship tease, but she never really outright says she’s crushing on anyone), but judging from the way etherane handled lilian’s gender identity, i have a sneaking suspicion that she established lilian’s asexuality with her mental illnesses specifically in mind. lilian’s autistic, germaphobic, has severe ocd, and she’s been sexually assaulted in the past. therefore, she must be asexual! that’s the sort of vibes i get from the game, and im not here for it.

— me, circa november 2020

the other day, i was writing a crossover ship fic for lilian when i ran into a problem. namely, the Touch Aversion problem. at first glance, the reasoning behind lilian’s touch aversion seems really simple: she hates germs and dirty things, so she wears gloves and washes her hands so frequently that they blister. since she has ocd and mysophobia, it makes sense for her to be obsessive about cleanliness and for her passive skill to be listed as cleaning. she doesn’t touch q84 in canon even in life-threatening situations, except for the very end, because she hates touching people. when anri kissed her, lilian was so grossed out that she imagined anri as a parasite. and when it comes to her taking off her glove and holding vincent’s hand... well,

but upon replaying hello charlotte 3 and doing a little bit of digging with regards to the actual symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder and mysophobia, i realized something. and this “something” was a game-changer.

so let’s start off by defining some things. obsessive-compulsive disorder, shortened to ocd, has several diagnostic criteria, which you can read here if you’d like the full clinical definition. for the sake of length, though, i will only talk about the most important part to take away from the diagnostic criteria.

ocd is not a fear of germs. ocd is not a fear of germs. ocd. is. not. a fucking fear of germs. obsessions may involve cleanliness. compulsions may include wanting areas to be clean. it is entirely possible for ocd to be accompanied by mysophobia, but a fear of germs is not inherent to the diagnosis of ocd. what is inherent to the diagnosis of ocd is a repeated and pervasive series of intrusive thoughts which cause the person with ocd debilitating anxiety or distress, and a set of compulsions that the person with ocd performs in order to mitigate said anxiety. these compulsions do not need to correspond to the actual obsession. a lot of obsessions don’t. for example, your obsession could be around disliking cluttered environments, but your compulsion could be pacing a hallway fourteen times back and forth while mentally reciting the preamble to the american constitution. in some cases, the compulsion is related to the obsession but is generally considered excessive. remember that ocd is not characterized by a need for cleanliness and that it is instead characterized by ritualistic behaviour accompanied by obsessive thought patterns.

i also want to talk about this section in particular, taken from the website linked above:

D. The disturbance is not better explained by the symptoms of another mental disorder (e.g., excessive worries, as in generalized anxiety disorder; preoccupation with appearance, as in body dysmorphic disorder; difficulty discarding or parting with possessions, as in hoarding disorder; [ ... ] ritualized eating behavior, as in eating disorders; [ ... ] thought insertion or delusional preoccupations, as in schizophrenia spectrum and other psychotic disorders; or repetitive patterns of behavior, as in autism spectrum disorder).

Specify if:

With good or fair insight: The individual recognizes that obsessive-compulsive disorder beliefs are definitely or probably not true or that they may or may not be true.

With poor insight: The individual thinks obsessive-compulsive disorder beliefs are probably true.

With absent insight/delusional beliefs: The individual is completely convinced that obsessive-compulsive disorder beliefs are true.

i want to let the record show that lilian has several of these disorders. while i don’t believe that this disqualifies her from having ocd, i do think it’s important to note that there is comorbidity between these disorders.

i included this section on inslght because i’m going to go into depth why i believe lilian has absent insight/delusional beliefs. but in order to talk about that, we need to figure out just what it is that lilian is obsessively thinking, what it is that’s causing her so much distress. if ocd doesn’t inherently involve a need for cleanliness, then could it be that lilian’s obsessions revolve around her mysophobia? after all, mysophobia is germaphobia, so maybe she’s just scared of germs, and that’s why she’s always washing her hands.

so, let’s talk about mysophobia. it isn’t listed under the dsm v on its own, but it does exist (albeit not by name) under the umbrella term specific phobia disorder. you can look that up yourself, but from the research i’ve done, i can fairly safely say this: mysophobia, more commonly referred to as germaphobia, is not a fear of germs for the sake of fearing germs. it is a fear of being contaminated, sick, or infected, whether it be through other people or through the environment. symptoms of mysophobia include but are not limited to obsessive handwashing, an extreme avoidance of places that are deemed unclean, and excessive planning to avoid contamination. this separates it from ocd in that ocd involves ritualistic behaviours (like handwashing) to ease anxiety, whereas mysophobia involves these ritualistic behaviours to actually make the area cleaner. to summarize, mysophobic actions are directly related to the fear of contracting an illness.

okay, kids, what have we learned?

though ocd can be accompanied by mysophobia, the two of them are not synonymous. ocd is a pattern of obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviours designed to ease anxiety surrounding those thoughts.

there are lots of comorbidities present with ocd and other disorders lilian has, such as autism spectrum disorder, body dysmorphic disorder, eating disorders, and psychotic disorders.

mysophobia is more accurately defined as being afraid of being infected or contaminated. mysophobic compulsions relate directly to the desire to eliminate contaminants, rather than being a self-soothing action to reduce anxiety.

now that we’ve laid the groundwork for analyzing lilian’s behaviour, let’s dive into canon. what can we say about lilian’s anxious preoccupations? what excessive planning does she undergo to avoid contact with germs? and, most importantly, why is she perfectly fine with holding vincent’s hand? (it’s still bad writing, but i found an explanation that makes it better)

the most obvious sign of both ocd and mysophobia present in canon is lilian’s intense preoccupation with handwashing. we only see this happen once, in hello charlotte 2.

i’ve removed some sections for the sake of length, but here are some revealing lines from lilian:

My fellow students smashed my head into a worm soup.

I can’t [stop washing my hands]. I’ve washed off [most] of the soup, but I still feel dirtied.

In fact, everything I touch feels contaminated. I can’t just shake off the feeling of disgust.

between ocd and mysophobia, this reaction seems very solidly linked to the latter. lilian’s head was dunked into soup, and she felt disgusted and contaminated, so she began to obsessively wash the soup away. the only other place where handwashing is mentioned is in lilian’s mind exhibition in hello charlotte 3.

in this poem, lilian attributes her handwashing to her ocd, where she writes, “wash and repeat! it’s not enough!” she doesn’t state in this poem if she does this to reduce the possibility of getting sick or if she does this as a compulsive ritual. both interpretations are plausible, given the vague statement “it’s not enough!”. perhaps it’s not enough because she still feels contaminated, or it’s not enough because she has not been rid of the anxiety caused by her intrusive thoughts. maybe it’s a little bit of both.

however, excessive handwashing does not a disorder make. sure, lilian washes her hands until they blister, but why? what is she trying to avoid? in the example in hello charlotte 2, she’s washing off soup. this is a direct response to an uncomfortable situation and not to an anxious preoccupation. in her poem, she offers no hint as to what is causing her so much anxiety that she needs to wash her hands compulsively. and once you start to pick through her behaviour in search of a thread of obsessive thinking, it starts to become clear that there might not be one.

the truth is, lilian’s actions in canon are generally inconsistent given the definitions listed above. her touch aversion is implied to be caused by her mysophobia, but she has no real plan for avoiding touch besides wearing gloves, which she ditches anyway when touching vincent. in heaven’s gate, it’s implied to be more of an aromantic or asexual thing. (i say aromantic because the scene was a little weird about not dividing the line between romantic and sexual attraction, so even though lilian’s canonically asexual, the scene was actually talking about kissing and dating and might have just been a ploy to get nonconsensual kissing in because that’s apparently mandatory in like every game anri appears in.) but that doesn’t make much sense either, considering that platonic and otherwise non-sexual touch is also off-limits.

we return to the intense, excessive and obsessive nature of both ocd and mysophobia. passing fears of contamination or infection don’t classify as mysophobia, and vague and isolated anxieties don’t classify as ocd. the individual has to be intensely preoccupied by these thoughts. however, in canon, lilian is generally not preoccupied with getting sick or dirty until it actually happens to her. her goal in life is to become a doctor, a profession that involves repeated and close contact with infectious diseases. she also takes care of her bedridden mother, which in many cases involves helping the individual with their personal hygiene. her mother is the reason why she wants to become a doctor in the first place, and since anri knows about this dream, it’s fairly safe to assume that this is lilian’s own dream, not scarlett’s. however, in hello charlotte 3, when q84 is wounded, she asks lilian to treat her wounds, and lilian’s response is as follows:

this is further reinforced when q84 is decomposing after having used her wish, and umbrella man states that lilian is fighting the urge to vomit. however, in the infirmary scene, lilian is quite comfortable with being physically close to q84, even when there is a possibility for skin contact. note how charlotte’s hair (which has the possibility of carrying bacteria, skin flakes, etc.) is close to lilian’s face, but how lilian seems quite content, even relaxed.

this is stressful! what is the truth?

on top of that, we know for a fact that, despite being mysophobic, lilian has no issue (at least in hello charlotte 2) with using public bathrooms at school, something that is generally a huge obstacle for people struggling with mysophobia. in true realm, this is never addressed, which lends credence to the idea that she simply doesn’t worry about the transmission of germs in shared spaces like bathrooms, nor is she worried at all about using anri’s smartphone to take blackmail pictures when screens are generally a hotbed of germs. we could say that she makes such liberal use of her gloves that she doesn’t even think about the germs living on them (unlikely), but then she’d likely have a panic attack when she does things like touch her face, which she does in at least one of her sprites.

in fact, the only thought she has about cleanliness in true realm flashbacks is in one of the final ones. she thinks the following: “we lie on the floor for a long time. i briefly wonder if it’s properly vacuumed.” this is, like, a normal thought. i can’t stress enough how normal this thought is and how quickly this thought passes. i cannot stress enough how little she cares about the cleanliness of this floor.

so, like, what gives? why does lilian wear gloves? why does she say she’s squeamish in false realm or want to throw up when holding charlotte? and most importantly, how is she mysophobic when she doesn’t seem to fear germs at all?

the answer fucking blew my mind, folks. are you ready? here it is.

This world is swarming with parasites. Tiny. Invisible. Tenacious. Once they outwit your immune system, they eat you from the inside. Use you as an incubator for their offspring. Control your mind and alter your personality. They keep reproducing, and reproducing, and reproducing, endlessly reproducing. Until every single person is consumed by the disease.

from this excerpt, we can glean the following:

the parasite lilian is describing is a disease that targets the immune system;

the parasite functions by controlling its host like a puppet and altering aspects of their personality, potentially causing them to act in a way that is uncharacteristic; and

the parasite’s goal is to reproduce and to eventually infect everyone in the world.

these are the very first lines in the very first flashback to true realm. an echoing of these very lines are found later, when lilian is saying them to q84. note that, according to etherane, it has been many, many years since these words have first been uttered. but lilian manages to quote them verbatim. given that she can recite these lines perfectly years after her death, it seems that this is a comforting mantra about the world’s truths. and from that, we can gather that repeating this mantra is one of her compulsions, alongside handwashing.

this is it. this is the root of lilian’s mysophobia. these lines accurately explain a pervasive delusion that manifests both in lilian’s thoughts and in her visual hallucinations. more accurately, it is the mantra that describes the “o” in lilian’s ocd and the illness that causes her mysophobia. the parasite is the disease she’s afraid of contracting, and that fear is the intrusive thought that brings her so much anxiety. i tried to compile a list of all the times lilian or someone modelled after her has mentioned contamination, a preoccupation with purity, a parasite, a tumour, rottenness, or anything relating to this core concept, but there was just... so much. the entire world of hello charlotte is based around parasites and mind control. the deus ex machina of this world is a parasite itself. all charlottes have the disease. this world is literally obsessed with the delusion lilian’s held her whole life.

and now that we’ve framed it like that... is it any wonder that this is the obsessive thought? something we’d previously assumed to be a persistent metaphor is actually an intense preoccupation. lilian’s inconsistent actions in canon make sense because she’s not worried about contracting a physical illness, but rather a mental one that’s linked to a persistent delusion of hers. throughout canon, we see no instances of lilian questioning this belief, leading her to be classified as having absent insight/delusional beliefs.

before i continue, i want to mention that the pitfall many hello charlotte fans fall into, and the one i myself have fallen into in the past, is assuming that lilian was always unable to touch others. though she wears gloves throughout the entirety of the true realm flashbacks, she was actually alright with making contact with others up until a specific point in her life. and, interestingly enough, it was not vincent's death that spurred on this change. a full three months pass between his death and the time when lilian's mental health took a nosedive. the critical moment of change involves the very last flashback: 531 days before the trial.

lilian and anri decide to run away together. however, lilian was actually planning a double suicide. upon learning this, anri grows agitated, punching lilian and pinning her down to the floor. it's at this point that lilian realizes anri's feelings for her. after anri kisses her, she becomes a parasite. when lilian gets home, she checks on mother and realizes that mother has become a parasite as well.

from this day onwards, lilian begins to see everyone in her life as a parasite. she says it herself: "That moment I realized. I could never touch a human being ever again." this is the start of her intense touch aversion and marks the beginning of the end of her life. it’s at this point that lilian becomes physically repulsed by everyone around her and the environment she exists in, and these feelings generally persist, albeit on a lesser scale, in false realm.

but what is the parasite? in true realm, the parasite is only described in lilian’s mantra, but there are several nuances to the definition that go unexplained. however, in false realm, parasites take a variety of forms. similarly to how scarlett and umbrella man are reflections of lilian’s inner self that take shape as their own entities within false realm, lilian’s definitions for what a parasite is also breaks off and takes shape into various different forms after her death. when we examine what parasites are in false realm, we can begin to understand what makes someone turn into a physical deformity in lilian’s eyes and why she’s so afraid of the parasite in the first place.

there are three kinds of deformities in false realm. there is the oracle (left), the bullies (upper-right), and the faceless (lower-right). these are not all official terms, but they’ll be the ones that i use going forward.

the oracle is the entity that most closely follows the original logic of the mantra — it is an entity that rapidly multiplies (either through a race like the pythias or organically through cell division as it does in hello charlotte 3) and forms a collective out of several individuals. hello charlotte 2 explains that unification of a civilization is an arduous and painful procedure involving the slow loss of individuality until the race completely submits to the will of the parasitic host. the oracle is, to summarize, an entity that can “control your mind and alter your personality”. the oracle is the only parasite that ever enters another’s body. the other two forms of parasites are never called parasites themselves, but show visible deformities that house tenants and other important characters do not.

the faceless visually signify a lack of importance. these people do not do anything special. in some cases, they appear as a literal amalgamate, showing a hive-mindedness even if they are not being controlled by the oracle. these individuals are usually treated neutrally, and are not generally considered “bad”. they are simply narratively unimportant. by contrast, bullies do have faces, but they are vastly distorted and exhibit bright colouring. i may talk a bit more in a future post about colour symbolism and how it plays into both lilian’s and q84′s mysophobias, but to briefly summarize: the presence of colour is considered a contaminant, whereas white is considered an absence of colour and therefore “pure”. therefore, the brightly-coloured bullies are contaminated. these individuals show corrupted behaviour. they hurt others for personal gain, and are generally considered irredeemable.

in true realm, however, we see no such stylistic distinction. however, though they are not represented visually, the parasites in true realm show the same patterns as the oracle, the bullies, and the faceless. .

now that we have determined what the parasite is, we can determine how the parasite spreads. as previously stated, the parasite does not spread through shared surfaces or skin contact, as normal viruses do. lilian herself seems to treat it like it's just chance, like the parasite just chose to infect people randomly. but there are some things that she says that lends credence to the idea that the parasite is discriminate. after all, though her delusional belief is that the parasite will attach itself to any host it comes into contact with, this delusional belief did come from somewhere. and after examining the process of contamination over the course of the two or so years we see of her life, i believe this belief stemmed from her black-and-white views on good and evil and her penchant to see life as a narrative.

the first outcropping of parasites in lilian’s life were likely the faceless. she seems much less perturbed by them, and seem to view them as simply background pieces. this may be because of her belief in “protagonist” characters. in false realm, q84 makes liberal use of the term “npcs”, though all charlottes seem to have a concept of other students being faceless and subservient to them. this is a tenuous connection, but i believe lilian shares a similar belief. she may consider others "narratively unimportant”; that is, lacking direction or initiative, or perhaps simply not making an impact. she prides herself on being an observer, but she is undeniably the self-hating protagonist of her story. she says that if there is an afterlife, she doesn’t want to be its protagonist. this implies that on some level, she’s considered herself the protagonist of her own life. it’s definitely plausible given lilian’s tendency to project negative traits on others for her to see herself as comparatively good or blameless. by placing her own negative traits onto scarlett, for example, lilian creates a shaky ideal self. in other words, she creates a somewhat worthy protagonist.

and worthiness is incredibly important to lilian. a strong recurring theme in hello charlotte is the notion of “goodness”, especially when it relates to being polite. for example, in hello charlotte 1, a door refuses to open for you if you don't say please, and will call you insolent. all charlottes strive to be a “good girl” because their mothers told them to. interestingly enough, this is also what lilith tells lilian in true realm. since all charlottes have this strict adherence to being a good girl, this must have been very impactful for lilian. being considered “good” must have been very important to her. and being considered “bad” must have been similarly devastating.

knowing that charlotte is lilian's self-insert oc makes things even clearer. charlotte embodies an extreme selflessness, wanting to sacrifice herself for the good of others at any cost. any desire she has to be saved is rapidly dismissed as selfish, and she repeatedly states that she doesn't want to be a burden. charlotte's character makes a clear statement: good people are not burdensome. good people have faith in humanity. good people believe in others, and they help others even if the other person doesn’t deserve it.

the delusion is lilian’s failsafe. it’s her way of ensuring that she could never consider herself a bad person or a burden. in creating the narrative of a contagious parasite infecting the world, lilian is protecting herself from personal responsibility, both in herself and in others. instead of maintaining her belief that some people are evil, which she would consider a Bad Belief to have, she believes that they have simply caught a contagious disease. the bad-person disease, if you will. and since that disease alters the mind and personality of its hosts, these people are not directly responsible for their actions. here, lilian is absolved of hating people who hurt others. now, like charlotte, she can simply wish for their recovery. because they aren’t choosing to hurt others. they’re being manipulated into it by an invisible, malicious, contagious puppeteer.

a similar logic is applied to those lilian finds burdensome. since good people, in her eyes, can make themselves a martyr no matter the circumstances, it would be considered very bad if lilian could not do the same. this is evidenced when mother turns into a parasite. in that scene, lilian thinks the following:

It'd be easier if my mom was a workaholic who was never home. It'd be easier if we hated each other. It'd be easier if I didn't remember the days when she was still full of energy. Who would want to admit [to] their parent giving up on life and slowly rotting in the bedroom? Who would admit to thinking of their only parent as a parasitic existence? After that day, nothing was the same anymore.

in this instance, the word “parasite” is used to describe a leech, someone who constantly takes and never gives back. and in using this word to describe them, lilian relegates them in her mind as bullies, because she can’t admit to feeling burdened.

we see this also in anri. it’s not the physical action of the kiss that turns anri into a parasite. it’s the realization that anri has always had ulterior motives, that anri expects something of lilian. and lilian, feeling burdened, projects her own guilt about her lack of reciprocation onto anri. even at the end of her life, when she’s in the ocean, she reveals that one of her greatest regrets is not being able to reciprocate anri’s feelings.

vincent, on the other hand, is a charming stranger. he never gives lilian any reason to suspect that he may have ulterior motives. he’s successful, driven, popular, and talented. in many ways, he’s everything lilian wants to be. and since she doesn’t meet him for a long time, she can imagine him to be simply “the blinding icon on her screen“. she can project anything she wants onto him, and she chooses to project hope onto him. with his politeness, his charm, his compliments, he appears to be the ideal human. like lilian, he has managed to avoid being infected by the parasite. lilian grows attached to this interpretation, just as she grows attached to the mutuality of her friendship with anri, and just as she grows attached to her love for her mother. lilian doesn’t want to think of these people as parasites. in vincent’s case, he dies before he ever gets the chance to burden her. rather, he leaves her with the guilt of not being able to follow him and a misplaced idolatry of him and his beliefs.

the parasite, being a visual representation of perceived evil intent, seems to be non-contagious in nature. this doesn’t change, though, that lilian believes it is contagious. she wants to spend time with people she has deemed good, and to avoid bullies. however, the simple act of feeling burdened is enough to make lilian believe that the parasite is spreading at a breakneck rate and that the world she lives in is becoming more and more contaminated. once she feels she’s lost her support system, the parasite begins to spread, and she begins to feel less and less inherently good. it’s clear that the people around her had a stabilizing effect on her. but once she feels abandoned, her unhealthy coping mechanisms begin to catch up to her. lilian describes herself as filthy by the end of her life, and it’s very likely that she feared becoming a parasite herself if she were to continue down the path she was on.

the last piece of the puzzle is this: what saved anri and mother for so long, and what saved vincent from becoming a parasite altogether? after all, anri is a perfect candidate for developing the parasite, and arguably, so is mother. both of them rely on lilian for different things, and anri actively engages in blackmail. it would be simple as well to see c as disingenuous or fake. but lilian doesn’t entertain any of those thoughts, either for a very long time or at all. why?

the answer is simple. the people that lilian loves are less likely to be infected by the parasite. even if they are infected, she is kinder to them. after anri says she’ll leave lilian, after her confession and her subsequent contamination, lilian lets anri cuddle her. she even hugs anri tightly before they part, and keeps in contact with her until... well, just before she commits suicide. despite the relationship between lilian and her mother being one-sided, lilian holds onto pleasant memories of her mother because she doesn’t want to believe that she could feel burdened. and lilian is so attached to her love for c that she doesn’t see anything wrong with him.

all of this is to say that lilian’s touch aversion does not stem from physical cleanliness, but rather her perception of the other’s purity. this means that she’s not only willing to touch others if she deems them a “good person”, but that she is actively okay with it. this is evidenced even in false realm, where she is alright with exchanging casual moments of intimacy with charlotte and q84, such as in the “take my hand” scene and in the infirmary scene. since she loves these individuals, she sees them as inherently better people than she would if she viewed them objectively. this is a game-changer when it comes to touch-aversion. with respect to the charles/vincent ships where lilian’s okay with kissing... that’s a different story. even though saliva may not trigger her mysophobia, we’ve seen on multiple occasions both in canon and in heaven’s gate that lilian is indifferent to mouth-kissing at best. however, she is definitely comfortable with some displays of physical affection with those she cares for, and is generally willing to excuse much more when it comes to those she loves.

thank you for reading this post in its entirety! i did not expect it to get this long, so if you got to the end, i just want you to know i love and appreciate you SO much

#lilian eyler: study.#body horror //#unsanitary //#suicide //#long post //#the way that i still feel like i have more to say #this post got SO long but i care about her so much

5 notes · View notes