#anyway I know its been some time since I posted any weaving which is because life has been evil lately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misnomera · 4 years

Text

On racial stereotyping of the Haans in TMA...

Right so as someone who is ethnically Chinese I have NO FUCKING clue how I didn’t notice this more distinctly in my initial binge of tma (going too fast and not paying closer attention to character names and descriptions, probably) but the Haan family storyline is, all horror elements aside, pretty fucked up in terms of racial representation re: stereotyping. This got long as hell, but please please please take a moment to read through if you’ve got time for it. thanks.

To start off, the Haans are one of the few characters in tma with an explicitly specified race and ethnicity—Chinese—and pretty much the only explicitly Chinese characters in tma, other than the mostly unimportant librarian (Zhang Xiaoling) from Beijing. But like, Haan isn’t even a properly Chinese surname, at least not in the way that it’s spelled in canon (it should be Han, one a. A quick google search tells me that Haan as a surname has...Dutch origins??).

Of course, that could be chalked up to shoddy anglicization processes within family histories, which certainly isn’t uncommon with immigrant families, so I’m not going to dwell on names too much (although I also find it interesting that John Haan’s name is so specifically and weirdly anglicized that he changed his own surname?? Hun Yung to John Haan is a very big leap of a name change and frankly not very believable. ANYWAY, this is not that important. I don’t expect Jonny, a white Englishman, to come up with perfectly unquestionable non-Cho-Chang-like Chinese names, though it certainly would be nice. Moving on).

What really bothers me about the Haans is how they almost exclusively and explicitly play into negative Chinese immigrant stereotypes. I don’t even feel like I need to say it because it’s like...it’s literally Right There, folks. John Haan (in ep 72) owns and operates a sketchy takeout restaurant. They’re all avatars of the Flesh—and John Haan is Specifically horrific and terrifying because he cooked his wife’s human meat and fed it to his unknowing customers. Does that remind you of any stereotypes which accuse Chinese people of consuming societally unacceptable and ethically questionable things like dog/cat/bat meat (which, if it’s not already crystal fucking clear, we don’t. do that.), which in turn characterize us as horrible unfeeling monsters? John Haan’s characterization feeds (haha, badum tss) directly into this harmful stereotype that have caused very real pain for Chinese people and East Asians in general.

And Jonny does nothing to address that from within his writing (and not out of it either). And, speaking on a more meta level, Jonny could’ve easily had these flesh avatars be individuals of any race (like, what’s Jared Hopworth’s ethnicity? Do we know? No? Well then). Conversely, he could’ve easily, easily had a Chinese person be an avatar of any other entity. So why did he have to chose specifically the Flesh?

(This is a rhetorical question. You know why. Racial stereotyping and invoking a fear of the other in an attempt to enhance horror, babey~)

On Tom Haan’s side, Jonny seems weirdly intent on having other characters repeatedly comment on his accent (or rather, lack thereof) in relation to his race. Think about how, in ep 30 (killing floor), the fact that Tom Haan had spoken a line to the statement giver in “perfect English” was an emphasized beat in that statement, and a beat that was supposed to be “chilling” and meant to signify to us that something was, quote-unquote, “not right” with Tom Haan. Implicitly, that’s saying that it was unexpected, not “normal”, and in this case even eerie, for someone who looks Chinese to have spoken in fluid, unbroken English. Mind you, the line itself was perfectly scary on its own (“you cannot stop the slaughter by closing the door”), so why did Jonny feel the need to note the accent in which it was spoken in? Why did Jonny HAVE to have that statement giver note, that he initially “wasn’t even sure how much English [Haan] spoke”?

This happens again in episode 72 with a Chinese man (and again, his ethnicity is Explicitly Noted) who we assume is also Tom Haan. This one is rather ironically funny and kind of painfully self aware, because the statement giver expresses surprise at Haan’s “crisp RP accent” and then immediately “felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English,” and subsequently admitted that thought was “low-key racist.” Like, from a writing perspective, this entire passage is roundabout, pointless, and says absolutely nothing helpful to enhance the horror genre experience for listeners (instead it just sounded like some sort of half-assed excuse so Jonny or other listeners could say “look! We’ve addressed the racism!” You didn’t. It just made me vaguely uncomfortable). And again, having other people comment on our accents/lack thereof while assuming we are foreign is a Very Real microaggression that east asians face on the daily. If Jonny needed some filler sentences for pacing he could’ve written about Literally anything else. So why point out, yet again, that the crazy murderous man was foreign and Chinese?

At this point, you might say, right, but yknow, it was just that the statement givers were kind of racist! It happens! Yeah sure, ok, that’s a passable in-universe explanation for descriptions of Tom Haan (though not John Haan, mind you), but the statement givers are fake made up people, and statement’s still written by Jonny, who absolutely has all the power to write overt discrimination out of his stories. And he does! Think about just how many minor (and major!!) characters are so, so carefully written as completely aracial, and do not have their ethnicity implicated at all in whatever horrors they may or may not be committing. Think about how many lgbtq+ characters have given statements, and have been in statements, without having faced direct forms of discrimination, or portrayed as embodying blatant stereotypes in their stories (though lgbtq+ rep in tma certainly has their own issues that I won’t go into here). Jonny can clearly write characters this way, and he can do it well. So why, why, am I being constantly, repeatedly reminded in-text of the fact that the Haans are East Asian, that they’re from China, that they’re Chinese immigrants, that they’re second-generation British Chinese or whatever the fuck, and that they’re also horrifying conduits for blood, gore, and general fucked-up-ness? It’s absolutely not something that is Needed for the stories to be an effective piece of horror; the only thing it does is perpetuate incredibly harmful and hurtful stereotypes.

And listen, I love tma to bits. It’s taken over my blog. I’ve really loved my interactions with the fandom. And I am consistently blown away by Jonny’s writing and how well he’s able to weave foreshadowing and plot into an incredibly complex collection of stories. But I absolutely Cannot stop thinking about the Haans because it’s just. It’s such a blatant display of racial stereotyping in writing. And I’ve certainly seen a few voices talking about it here and there, and I don’t know if I’m just not looking in the right places, but it certainly feels like something that is just straight up not on the radar for a lot of tma fans. And I’m disappointed about that.

Just, I don’t know. Take a look at those episodes again and do some of your own thinking about why these characters had to be specifically Chinese (answer: they didn’t.). And in general, PLEASE for the love of god turn a critical eye on character portrayals and descriptions whenever they are assigned specific races/ethnicities (Some examples that come to mind are Jude Perry, Annabelle Cane, and Diego Molina), because similar issues, to an extent, extend beyond the Haans, though I haven’t covered them here.

You shouldn’t need a POC to do point out these problems for you when they’re so glaringly There. But for those of you who really didn’t know, hope this was informative in some way. I’m tired, man. If some of the only significant Chinese characters you write are violent cannibalistic men with a perverted relationship with meat, just don’t do it. Please don’t do it.

EDIT: Since the making of this post Jonny has acknowledged and apologized for these portrayals on his twitter and in the Rusty Quill Operations Update, which went up September 2020. A long time coming, but better late than never. This of course doesn’t necessarily negate the harm done by Jonny’s writing, and doesn’t make me much less angry about it, but is appreciated nonetheless. For more on this topic there’s a lot of productive discussions happening in my “#tma crit” tag and in the notes of this post

#tma #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tma 30 #tma 72 #tma crit #racism #sinophobia #racist stereotyping #tw cannibalism #tw violence #long post #tom haan #john haan

3K notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 3 years

Note

As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.

~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.

~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.

~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.

~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.

~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes.

~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of it, of course.

~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell.

~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy.

~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.

~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.

~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.

~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen.

~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.

~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.

~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.

~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.

#claude von riegan #fe claude #claude von riegan headcanons #fe claude headcanons #claude von riegan x reader #fe claude x reader #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #headcanons #did i put too much thought into this? yes #do i regret it? a little #but this has been festering in my mind

135 notes · View notes

denkineptune · 3 years

Text

mha date headcanons- boys and girls :))

♡ request: “i love ur blog already, ur writing is so good!!! im so excited to see the content u’ll be posting !! :D since ur taking requests, how abt some date headcanons for the mha boys (or girls if u want!) ?” - @dianangels

♡ thank you for letting me write girls aaa i chose to do some as first date hc. it was kinda hard to keep jirou’s gn because i wanted to reference wlw stereotypes but i succeeded in gender-neutral because i want everyone to be able to enjoy

♡ dedicating part of this to @anxious-botanist because she’s the one who inspired the momo cuddles hehe sorry it took so long

♡ fic details: headcanons, fluff, gender-neutral reader, 2nd pov

characters: kaminari, amajiki, jirou, ashido, yaoyorozu

kaminari- arcade

↠AR C ADE DA T E

↠you hear me??? arcade!! date!! ideal man, right here, someone claim him immediately or else i will be forced to take ownership

↠he’s super laid back and chill, pretty childish at heart. he only means the best, though, so i think an arcade is exactly what he would go for when taking you on a date! he doesn’t have a lot of money but still wants you to go home with something to remember the date by

↠he buys like $50 worth of tokens and splits it between the two of you, making sure that he tells you which games give the most tickets, because he’s definitely been here enough times to remember

↠his favorite game is either crossy roads or the big bass wheel- he loves crossy roads because of how cute the style is, but also there is impending stress and levels of d o o m as you progress further. big bass wheel is basically just gambling, and i think he’s yumeko jabami.

↠he hacks games to make you win sometimes,, his quirk is bascially designed to do this. it’s like he was born just to take you out on this arcade date. he uses his quirk to short circuit the game and trick the computer into giving you hundreds of tickets

↠he just wants to make you happy and see you smile!! there’s not a feeling quite like succeeding at something as silly as an arcade game, but there’s a certain pride to it that he loves seeing on your face.

↠kaminari only does it a few times, since he knows that you should be earning your prizes ((not that you know when he does it, he’s really cheeky about it))

↠playyyy multiplayers with him! he loves DDR (dance dance revolution)- you do multiple rounds and are equally exhausted by the end of it akdflad you may not be good, and tbh neither is denki, but you still have fun, which is what matters

↠he also loves taking photobooth pictures, he puts on the most horrendous filters and does the dumbest poses, but it’s so adorable. he does the typical one smile, one “serious”, one silly face, one kith > <

↠kami gets cocky,,, it’s just how he is,, he gets overly confident whether or not he’s been on a winstreak

“heyy, y/n! look at my speedrun on this, i’m getting so many tickets, i’ll be able to get a house by the end of it!”

↠and then he CAN’T because he doesn’t get the jackpot eghgdhgeh

↠by the end of the day, you’ve spent hours at the arcade, laughing and screaming with denki as you terrorize the small children. yes, he’s that kind of guy

↠by “terrorize”, i don’t mean like a bully, but he’s unintentionally intimidating kids with his pockets overflowing with ticket chains, a crazed look on his face as he goes absolutely ham on the shooting games

↠there’s electricity coming off of him, kids sometimes have to dodge it when passing by

↠so anyways, by the end of the date, you’re basically being kicked out of the arcade, because, as kami puts it,

“we were here when it opened and i’ll be damned if we’re not here when it closes,”

↠between the two of you, you’ve aquired tens of thousands of tickets??? the employees probably hate y’all, they had to count those beasts of ticket rolls you’ve accumulated during the 10 hours the arcade was open

↠exactly 62,069 tickets (69 go brrr- kaminari’s brain), and you can basically buy the arcade with that currency

↠but here’s the thing: he lets you spend all of it. you heard me, all. of. it. he just wants to see you happy, and the best way he can think of to get a final glorious memory of your smile is to let you spend the tickets as you see fit, this generosity just to see you glowing as you walk out of the building, arms chock full of amazing junk

↠but of course, you’d feel bad if you spent all of it, especially since he was the one who took you out, so you offered him the half of the tickets that were won

“denki, you won most of these with your amAzINg gaming skills, it’s only fair you get to have something too,”

“my prize will be seeing you- your- your-- aw fuck, i forgot the line, it’ll come back to me, just give me a minute.”

↠he tried to be smooth and it failed, but you chuckled at the attempt, so all around, he considered it a success

↠denki gets a lot of dumb things that will probably end up being thrown away soon, but he also gets you a very soft bat stuffed animal that you should treasure and keep forever

amajiki- a walk and picnic in a japanese garden

↠tamaki is very shy, very socially anxious. he’s the kind to wait for people to leave a section of a store before he goes there, purposely do his errands in the early morning to limit social interaction, and find any excuse to leave a situation. which, tbh, isn’t that all of us?

↠let’s be honest here, if it wasn’t y’alls first date, he’d probably not go anywhere. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t really care for anything too fancy

↠but he’s convinced himself that he needs to do something reasonably big for your first date to make sure you don’t regret your decision to go out with him. so instead of deciding to stay in, he goes somewhere that’s only slightly anxious for him, but where he still feels comfortable

↠so he’s decided on a japanese tsukiyama garden! these places are beautiful by design, not cheap but not too expensive, and people are obligated by rules to be quiet and keep their hands to themselves

↠nobody goes to a garden to socialize, in fact, i’d argue most people go just to look around, rest, and clear their heads. there’s usually not any screaming children, no quirk usage, no villains, it’s a little safe haven.

↠bonus: there’s butterflies :))

↠it’s so peaceful, and he gets to focus on you instead of whatever loud noise is making him anxious

↠he brings a picnic basket filled with all your favorite foods, and his! he makes a show out of displaying what he can manifest with different snacks, making a point to eat edible seeds so he can produce flowers for you 🥺🥺🥺

↠you walk around the garden for a few hours, marveling at the decor and how well-maintained everything is. there’s a koi pond, hanging wisteria trees, and multiple gazebos that create a really comfortable and calm environment

↠speaking of koi ponds, amajiki offers to buy you food so you can feed the fish! you stand on a bridge above the pond, sharing the container with him. the sMILE on his face when he watches you throw the food is so pure i’m-

↠he’s the walking embodiment of “uwu”- his face is so calm and his eyes are shining and he can feel his heart swelling with love i am GOING to cry my eyes out

↠but honestly, he wishes he could stay in this moment forever- you’re happy, he’s happy, and it feels like you two are the only people in the universe. right now, he doesn’t have to worry about school, villain attacks, his future, or anything that makes him anxious; all that he can see right now is how beautiful and at peace you look. he took you out today, and you’re enjoying yourself. this is one of the few things that makes him confident: knowing that he’s able to make you happy

↠tamaki is silently celebrating; you’ve had a good time and he didn’t freak out, so it’s the best possible scenario!

ashido- rollerskating! ((look at her she’s adorable the smile n the eyes aaa))

↠mina is a very energetic and bubbly person, its quite obvious if you’ve spent any amount of time around her

↠for your first date with her, she’d already have a location in mind!!

↠the atmosphere of rollerskating rinks is so electric, she can’t help but feel happy there, and she wants to experience that lovely feeling with you, too :))

↠you enter the rink, and mina is already borderline bouncing off the walls alskdfj

↠whether or not you’ve ever skated before, ashido is super cautious with you- multiple times she’s fallen on her butt while learning how to skate, so unless you’re a pro, she’s watching your every move to make sure you don’t get hurt

“y/n! please be careful- you’re not getting hurt on my watch!”

↠she jabs a thumb in her direction proudly, with the cutest bigass grin on her face awh 🥺🥺🥺she’s really enthusiastic about sharing one of her passions with you

“try to balance, alright? don’t put too much weight on your heel or toes, because then you’ll fall on your butt. here, take my hand and i’ll help you! hey, there you go, you’re doing great!”

↠she pays for everything and will WRESTLE you if you try to disagree aldkfa if you’re the type of person to pay for everything as well, y’all are going to have to fight; mina will not give up

↠ashido comes here a lot, so she’s friendly with all the employees, she has the uncanny ability to make friends wherever she goes ((i mean she’s friends with bakugou,, if she can do that,, she can do anything))

↠she takes one of your hands and backs onto the rink, watching for anyone behind her. once you’re balanced properly, she shows you how to move your feet so that the two of you are in sync

↠skating isn’t super hard to figure out, it’s mostly intuitive, so you’ll get the hang of it quite quickly!! maybe you’re not too fast, but it’s still fun, so it doesn’t matter

↠while you’re moving with care, making sure to focus on your footwork, mina will definitely take the chance to show off her skating skills! she’s moving like crazy, weaving around other people and nearly toppling them over but shh she’s trying to impress you and if i’m being honest??? she’s really fucking good aldkdf

↠it’s obvious that she loves this hobby, and the fact that she likes you enough to share it with you on your first date is so adorable aaaa

↠mina’s really agile- you don’t know if that’s all the hero training or just something that comes naturally, but the way she moves makes skating look like the easiest goddamn thing in the world-

↠she’s such a romantic, she’s definitely put in a request for the dj to play your favorite song, no matter if it fits the mood or not

↠heavy rock? sure!! as long as you’re having fun, who cares about what other people think? super vulgar rap?? w h y n o t ? !

↠she just has that extroverted, positive, charming energy that’s infectious

↠you can’t help but feel at ease around her, she’s a genuinely a great person, and what you think the epitome of a hero is

↠all ashido really wants here is to have fun with you- i mean she really likes you, and hopes that she’ll get to go on another date w/ you, so she’s doing everything in her power to woo u

↠and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working 🥺👉👈

jirou- hanging out in her room

↠kyouka jirou, being the more introverted person she is, wouldn’t really want to go somewhere super public, like mina would

↠i also believe that she’d want to be friends (or at least acquaintances) with you before asking you on a date- she’s easily annoyed by people, so i think that she’d need to be comfortable around you if she was to be romantically interested

↠and you’ve ticked all these boxes! you understand her sarcastic, blunt personality, and find it pretty amusing. beyond all that, she’s kind and caring, and deep down, she aspires to be a hero for all the right reasons. who wouldn’t love her for that?

↠so for your first date with kyouka, i think she’d want to be somewhere quiet and intimate with you. she wouldn’t want any interruptions ((specifically from jammingyay, who enjoys butting his head in other peoples’ business))

↠the most comfortable place for her would be her room, since it’s really just an extension of her personality, and since you’re quite close, she’d be okay with letting you in her private space. she trusts you.

↠just two guys bein dudes 🤠 ((if you’re a girl, it’s just sappho and her friend--))

↠music is one of the biggest things in jirou’s life, and i think she’d want to share it with you. that is, if you’d let her :)) she has dozens of different instruments, so if you want to attempt to learn something, she’d be totally down!!

↠please show her what kind of music you’re into! no matter what it is, she’ll listen to it. she wants to get to know what kind of person you are when you’re not around other people, and music is a great way to do that. even if you don’t have the same taste as her, she wouldn’t mind, since a) she’ll listen to pretty much anything, she’s not picky; and b) it’s something that you’re showing her, and that’s enough to make her happy

↠she’s not a very formal person, so i think she’d just want to talk to you and hang out. i’d think kyouka would be more of a fan of a gradual relationship, one that starts from friends and slowly evolves into more. and yes, as you can probably tell, i am a sucker for mutual pining and friends-to-lovers tropes-- im a simple hoe 😌

↠she’s super fun to hang out with!! her sense of humor is really snarky, she also enjoys talking shit about people she doesn’t like. if you’re not into that, she’s able to carry on conversation really well. there’s not a moment of awkward silence between you

↠jirou actually really likes talking shit about people hsahsh- as long as it’s someone that’s been mean in some way. she won’t say anything bad about someone who hasn’t done anything to deserve it. but if you’ve wronged her in some way, boy, do you have it COMING

↠by the end of it, i just know your cheeks hurt from laughing

↠she’s just a really fun person to be around, she may not be the most bubbly person ever, but she’s super easy-going and cool ((jirou bias incoming ekejke))

↠i do think she’d try to sneak some kind of affection if she thinks you’d reciprocate- if you’re really getting along well, she might snake her hand into yours when you’re sitting on the bed, laughing

↠honestly you might not even notice until she stops, because your hand feels empty and cold without her like your heart aa

↠if she’s really into you?? might get a smol peck on the cheek 👉👈 please try to get a smol peck on the cheek, it’s very cute and she gets so flustered

↠she goes up to you as you’re about to leave her room, grabs your shoulder, turns you around, and gives you an adorable if not slightly aggressive smooch

↠then she reFUSES to acknowledge what she just did akdfld- she turns away, beet red, and is completely silent

↠meanwhile you’re probably laughing your ass off because wow she’s so cute

↠kudos if you give one back to her, baby is on the verge of exploding ejkdjf

↠her heart just can’t handle what you’re doing to her

↠and despite what her appearance is, her heart is doing backflips- she’s whipped <33

momo: tea and c u d d l e s

↠she’s a very fancy person, obviously. yaoyorozu wants only the best for everyone she loves, and that, of course, includes you! she loves showing affection through giving things to others. her family status only magnifies this aspect of her personality, as being born into wealth gives her the means to spoil you rotten

↠and even though she’s bougie as all hell, she also somehow maintains an elegant and simple air about her. it’s impressive, really. it’s not like she tries to flex her money, it’s just a part of her life, and she enjoys using her privilege well

↠that being said, what’s more elegant and mature than going for tea? it’s a lovely pastime that momo would love to include you in!

↠lowkey,, she’s a whole sugar momma dfkdjla im not even joking- she doesn’t try to be, but virtually everything she does shows how rich she is

↠you arrive at the tea room, and by god is it fancy. there’s multiple chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, which is decorated with classic renaissance-style paintings. all the tables are set with white cloth, plates made of pure fine china, flowers and woven baskets set everywhere to create a cottagecore-like setting. the air about it is so sophisticated, from the patrons (wait is that a celebrity-) to the decorations

↠your face is kinda just,,, 😮,, because what in the world did momo get you into??

“momo, you’re so sweet, and this place is lovely, but don’t you think this is a bit much? not that i don’t absolutely appreciate it, it’s just that this seems really expensive, and i don’t want you to have to spend that much for just one date.”

↠she just chuckles, saying that it was “really nothing” (???? MISS GIRL???)

“don’t worry, y/n, this isn’t too much! i want to have fun today, and this place is so nice! let’s just find a table, alright?”

↠like, hunney, you’re so kind, but this is a LOT

↠but if you say so....

↠she looks at you with the most enthusiastic, wholesome eyes, and soon you’re following her like a puppy towards your table. the waiter sits you down, and leaves, giving you a moment to glaze over the menu to find a drink

↠and there’s so many types of teas, at least 30 on this page alone. you hadn’t even heard of half of these drinks, how would you know if you’d like them?

↠yaomomo seemed to notice your puzzlement, and said that you could get a pot of something simple, like jasmine green or earl grey, and she would get something fancier that you could try. why not?

↠a few minutes later, you’ve already adjusted to the sophisticated and intimidating environment, focusing only on the girl across from you, and how her eyes glittered with happiness

↠she orders a few normal tea foods, like scones with jam, lemon curd, and devonshire cream, and finger sandwiches. the fanciest thing she buys, though, is a blooming tea that arrives in a clear pot. it has an open flower inside of it, which is what the tea is infused with. it’s nearly 16,100 yen for one pot, though, and while you protest its expense, momo reassures you that it’s no problem (you just learned not to say anything about money, as it wouldn’t stop yaoyorozu from spoiling you)

↠ngl, it’s so fun to pretend to be fancy for a few hours at a tea room !! you acted as if you were a member of high society, using stereotypes to exaggerate your actions. it made some people only slightly irritated, but hey, it got a laugh out of a pretty girl, so who’s the real winner?

↠yaomomo taught you some classy etiquette that you should definitely use, it makes her so happy to think that you’re learning about new things while still enjoying your time with her

↠she makes really good conversation!! her intellect seeps through everything she says, anyone who talks to her would be able to tell that she’s extremely well-spoken and mature. momo is modest, and deflects a lot of the compliments you try to give her, so if you try to display your admiration for her, you’d probably need to be very specific about it. she doesn’t have the best self-image when it comes to her heroism and field work. spoken affection sometimes doesn’t get through to her, but you know what does? physical affection!

↠she loves cuddles, and will regularly take you back to her house after a date to cuddle in her bed. her mattress is legendary, and it’s comfortable as hell. there’s an abundance of pillows and the bed isn’t too soft or too firm, and it’s always somehow an amazing temperature???? mattresses are investments, and this was definitely a good one

↠momo loves the intimacy and trust of holding you, it allows her to escape from overthinking and only focus on you, her beautiful partner. she doesn’t care if she’s the big or little spoon, but her favorite kind of cuddling is when you’re on your back and she’s curled into your side, head tucked under your chin and hand on your chest

↠she can do this for hours, please let her. she feels safe with you, confident, because you’re choosing to spend time with her in this quiet moment instead of being off somewhere else.

↠in conclusion,,, 💕women 💕

-denkineptune

437 notes · View notes

warmau · 4 years

Text

slytherin!au san

*this post was commissioned | find other ateez aus here warnings: suggestive themes (no strings attached situation), hp themed au but we ignore jkrowling <3

something crawls across your desk

round and dark and you don’t have to look twice to know what it is

part of you wants to turn and look over your shoulder where you are painfully aware of the fact that san is eyeing you up

he’s always sat at the back of potions - while you sat diligently in the front and part of you suspects its a strategical ploy on his end

actually, you don’t expect, he has told you many times before that the view is just better from back there

it’s sleazy and you should scoff at the attempt of bad flirtation

but it’s hard for you to hate it as much as maybe the rest of your gryffindor housemates might

because

you like san

but

you aren’t about to let anyone in school know

so instead of looking behind you, you take your wand and flick the spider off the corner of your desk

it falls - disappearing in a little cloud of smoke midair

san’s always said he prefers them to snakes, he knows his whole houses deal with snakes slithers back to the ancestral wizards and bloodlines - but arachnids are so much cooler in his opinion

you don’t like bugs or snakes or anything that likes the cover of darkness

the only exception funny enough is ...... well......... san

“so did you get a date to the deathday party?”

you break from thought and turn to your friend

“huh - we don’t need a date for deathday parties. it’s just halloween basically.”

“but it’s so much more fun to have someone to cuddle up to while the ghosts do all their prancing around....like what if you get scared and your boyfriend just........”

she clasps her hands around herself

“holds you~”

you roll your eyes and close your textbook

you pull your worksheet out and get up to place it on the professors desk

they smile and wave their hand to let you know you’re free to go, you say bye to your friend who grumbles in response that you’re abandoning them

and as you walk down the rows of students - you reach the back of the room

you don’t pause when you reach out for the door, but you feel the same gaze that's been burning through you since san transferred here last year

you thought you’d be disgusted with it by now

but you’ve come to enjoy the slight, hot sting

“so, about that deathday party?”

you groan

you don’t want to talk about stupid trivial school events right now

with sans lips against your neck and your back against the cool walls of the greenery

instead of an answer you just tilt his head back up, gripping under his jaw and letting your mouth find his in an attempt to kiss him, of course, but to stop him from asking anymore questions

san kind of gets your point and his hands slip from under your robes lower

until they’re pressing into the skin of your hip and then

his teeth sink into your lower lip and you pull back

“hey - i said don’t do tha-”

“do you want to go to the deathday party with me?”

you give him a blank stare

you hope he gets the point of it too, but with the way he hasn’t gone back to touching you, it’s clear he’s waiting for an actual verbal response

“you know we can’t just show up to a party together.”

“why not?”

his hands leave your skin and your uniform falls back into place, he moves a little but still remains standing between your knees

the sudden retreat of full contact makes you upset and you hook your foot around his to tug him forward

instead of tipping over and into you, he puts a hand flat on your thigh

“seriously, why not? are you scared that people will be mad about it.”

“no - you know that isn’t the reason.”

“then what is?”

you sit up and want to tell him the real answer

the one that has been bubbling in the back of your mind these past couple of weeks

it had really just been for fun, a thrilling and almost wholly self-serving reason

when you let san, a slytherin who was barely managing to pass half his classes, and notoriously known for being quite uninterested in studies, magical morality, or any of the things you held so near and dear to your heart

corner you in the history section of the library

the books ruffling their pages on their own to hide the sound that came out of your mouth when he’d bit down into your skin for the first time

really you had just wanted to do something reckless

because you were well on your way to being perfectly clean cut in every other manner

but now - if you were to be completely truthful with him - you couldn’t just say

“the reason is because im just using you. you mean nothing to me.”

because through all the sneaking around in tight corners

using disappearing spells to hide from teaches and classmates

finding yourselves alone in that room of his

far down the twisting halls of the slytherin dungeon

you had fallen for all the charms of a person you had told yourself you should loathe

but san’s embarrassingly bad flirting, desperate manner of scratching to be as close as possible to you, loud and attention hungry attitude

had spun tight around you

because he was all those things, but through it all - through the bedroom eyes and lips on your thighs

he was one of the most gentle people who had ever laid hands on you

sure, you two could get caught up in a firestorm of young energy that would lead to both of you parting ways with evidence under the layers of your clothes that you’d admire in the mirror of your bathroom for days after

but that’s not what you meant when you described him as gentle

it was his soul, that was at the core, tender

little pretty whispers about your neck, your wrist, your eyes

sometimes when you were just talking there was the righteousness that people said he lacked laced through each, carefully chosen word

he could seem like a wreck of a person to everyone, even his own friends

but you’d somehow managed to catch the moments

of him that were most vulnerable

soft gaze that waits with manner to know if you are comfortable and safe with him, poetic words about the shadows of your bodies, there was even a mark of true faithfulness

when you two had almost gotten caught by a angry upperclassman

and san had let you escape before turning himself in and being slapped loud and hard and echoing

“who was with you?”

the angry voice had barked and san had stood with his hands clasped in each other, knuckles white

“no one. i was alone.”

so now when he asks you what the reason is that you don’t just want to let the world know

why you don’t want to make a statement

that this fling isn’t just that shallow pleasure seeking adventure you had intended it to start as and end as

but that it’s two people - that really fit each other like puzzle pieces

you can only think of the real answer

which is

“im scared. im scared that you don’t mean it as much as i do.”

you don’t mutter those words, you just keep quiet again instead and san finally slips completely away from you

he grabs his robe, hands curling around the green collar

“saying nothing is enough of an answer.”

you slide off the table and try to stop him

but your hand doesn’t leave your side and your knees are weak

and you’re worried that too much noise will make someone curious come looking

so you just watch him weave through the plants, until he’s gone.

he’s really gone.

the days seem to start going backwards ..... even though the dates get closer and closer to the end of the month

maybe its you that starts to function on some kind of made up timeline? because everywhere and everyone you look

is somehow san

the couples sitting in the courtyard sharing food, notes, kisses - they’re you and san

the solitary roaming owls circling the sky with letters in tow - all the letters you imagine rain down

and when you pick one up it says his name, written with the pen strokes that you’ve seen flipping through his textbooks

even the spells that leave your lips while you practice just turn to chants of his name

but he doesn’t .... come back like you wait for. he’s not in the classes you share. he’s not waiting in the secret corners you’ve both chosen.

he’s nowhere and yet everywhere for you.

the night of the deathday celebration - the entire school is buzzing

not only are the ghosts all out to chatter and reminisce about their time as the living

but the students are rushing up and down between the houses in costumes and masks

you shove your face into your pillow and snap your fingers, commanding the door to your room to shut

only to be knocked on a moment later

you shout your roommates name, telling them to get it

you’re in no mood to celebrate. you just want to fall deeper and deeper into your bed until you’ve completely disappeared from view

you hear the scurrying of footsteps, laughter, and conversation and then suddenly a hand grabs your shoulder and flips you over

“get up! we’re going to the party!”

your roommate gleams with a grin and you politely, but harshly refuse

“but your date will be so sad if you don’t show up!”

you spring up at the word date. a part of your stomach flips and you think - is there anyway it could be him?

your friend takes your shift in expression as a positive sign, whisking you up and out of bed - putting something that feels like a headband on your head - and pushing you toward the door

you haven’t seen san for a week

even though you feel as if the thought of him has more than tortured you every hour of every day

so even with the chances being slim, you feel your shoulders tense and a nervousness seep in through your veins

did he really come all the way to the gryffindor tower? is he finally coming back? did he tell my friends he-

but you look up when you get to the hall and instead of san you see

kim hongjoong

he’s standing beside mingi, who is twirling your roommate around and giggling in unison with them

“i-”

you start and hongjoong extends his hand

“your friend said you wanted to ask me to the party, but didn’t have the time. but ill gladly take you if you’d like.”

you stare at his palm

then back at him and the pretty prince’s costume he has on

he’s actually exactly what you should want

he’s in the top ten students of the ravenclaw house, he took OWLs early, he has been interning at the ministry of magic since he was a fourth year

he’s clean cut, gentlemanly, quiet spoken, and just - perfect

like you

but your stomach flips again, in a bad way, in a way that’s telling you

no you don’t want to go to this party with him, but to refuse him to his face is somehow even worse than just giving in

so you put your hand in his with a fabricated smile, that somehow is enough to convince everyone else.

until you hear mingi let out a sound of surprise, you turn and look at him - fully expecting him to read through your fake happiness

but instead he points the floor

“spider!”

you turn and see the spider

“sa-”

hongjoong crushes it with his shoe - hand still holding yours

“got it, should we head to the party?”

so you end up in a familiar place with an unfamiliar persons hands on your waist

dancing in the low light of the slytherin dungeons dorm

which has been transformed with pumpkin lighting and live music where every time the beat drops a bolt of electricity sparks from every corner

the ghosts, always fond of the cold and the dark, had chosen this as the venue for the deathday party

and although the headmaster and professors were looking grim about the prospect of the dorms being absolutely trashed

everyone else was having a blast

drinking spiked candy corn punch and pressing closer than mandated by the rules

prefects were running around casting spells to push people from each other, but they were just snapping back into each other like magnets

and in the shadows and heat of everyone else you can’t help but think about san again

you are looking at hongjoong, you are trying to focus on something he is saying about the music

but the wires of your mind are tangling and twisting and turning his hands on your waist into sans and his eyes into sans and his lips into sans-

it takes you a moment because you’re so dazed

to realize the lips you’re dreaming about aren’t kissing you, but hongjoong is

you pull back in horror and he mumbles an apology - but you turn, sensing something daunting

when you see - against the wall - staring right at you is the gaze that’s been on you for so long that you can never mistake it for another

“san!”

you gasp, and your hands drop from hongjoong’s shoulders, fast enough to watch san turn and disappear through the doors

“san?”

hongjoong repeats

“the slytherin? why are you-”

you rush toward him, pushing past the bodies that all seem to meld into one and other

the electricity zaps just as the door closes and it makes you jump and when you push it back open

the sound and the crowd shrinks

and you are looking down a dark, cold hall

you take your wand out and spark a small light from the tip - “san?” you call his name

legs shaking, voice a small tremble

there’s no answer

you keep going - subjecting yourself to the deeper parts of the dungeon until you think you’ve walked almost the entire hall and in front of you is a wall

something crawls up the side of your leg and you freeze

“san?”

you breathe again - but there’s no response and the feeling keeps coming up your skin, up your clothes, up and onto your neck and then

just as you think you can feel it begin to crawl up to your lips

it disappears and you turn because something like a flame starts to bloom from the center of your back

and when you do

it’s san

a spider crawls across his cheek, disappearing into smoke on him too

you don’t want to settle your breathing yet

you feel like you’ve been bounded to the spot you’re standing in

“you could have just told me there was someone else.”

“there isn’t.”

“i saw it - you can’t just -”

he starts, voice dropping until you think there’s only one thing you can say that would prove to him that it’s him

“i want to be with you.”

his eyes, long and overcasted with pain, widen

“being without you is like being without myself”

you stumble over the words - unfamiliar with this feeling of anxiety that has never grasped you so fully

“it’s stupid to be scared of you leaving me, but i am more terrified that i won’t have you at all to begin with.”

he is searing through you with the gaze

but the flame that used to burn hot with desire is now a cool, blue fire

that is scoping you out, weighing your words in his mind

until he presses his lips to yours and you lean back against the wall to let your hands find his neck

“i won’t leave you.”

he breathes into your skin

his scent floating around you and comforting you in the dark as you drop your wand and the only light you two had is gone

“you might even get sick of me and ask me too, but i won’t because i love you.”

you want to laugh at that

not because it is funny but because he must be insane

to think you’d ever get sick of him

even a week without him has left you suffering in withdrawl, for the first time it’s you who san can’t keep up with

as you kiss him back harder and lick into the roof of his mouth and pull your hands under his shirt

and he has to nearly stop you from undressing him there - because you just want to devour this moment over and over

until the taste of him is ingrained in your memory and you can recall what its like to have his pulse against your tongue even if a million miles separate you

san returns the sentiment, his hands itch too to find the places he adores most but even still

the entire school is a hallway away, so is the headmaster

so he lets you kiss him again, mark the side of his jawline and get your hands down to his belt before he mutters that he knows a shortcut to his room from here

you and san don’t return to the party

but the house ghosts saw you

and in the morning when san is walking down the gryffindor hall from your dorm

everyone knows very damn well why he’s there

the shock the questions the side eyes are all what you expected

but they don’t compare to the comfort that comes with having him beside you again

sitting with him at the top of the tower, legs swinging over the side, his smile in your neck

“i think its kinda cool that our anniversary is on halloween”

he comments one day as you’re sitting in his lap in slytherin commons

you turn to look at him

“wait, did you have a costume for the deathday part - what was it? i didn’t see.”

“oh you didn’t notice?”

you shake your head and san plays with your fingers before grinning up at you - long cheshire smile

“i was dressed as your boyfriend. fitting huh?”

you lean forward and he puckers his lips in anticipation, but then yelps when you flick his forehead

“i think you might have been right about that getting sick of you predication.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #san scenarios #san imagines #san au #ateez #suggestive themes #members: ateez #choi san imagines #choi san au #writing commissions #hp!au

577 notes · View notes

troubatrain · 3 years

Text

with you around - n. patrick

a/n: so this is a repost of an old fic from my old blog that survived the purge when I deleted - there’s actually two parts i just need to find the other one to post it lmao. i’m tagging @prettyboybarzal because nolpat is the dream stoner boyfriend and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise

You open your back door, sneaking out and walking to the back of the yard, climbing up the worn ladder to the tree house your parents built over a decade ago. You check your phone, knowing Nolan would have landed an hour ago which means he should be walking over to you now. You move the random throw pillows you’d collected over the years, trying to make the wooden house slightly more comfortable.

“You have got to stop making me climb up here,” You hear a deep voice huff, and you knew exactly who was on his way up.

“It’s tradition, Nolan,” You deadpan, it was how you both spent every first night of summer.

You watch as Nolan flicks on the old Christmas lights you’d hung up when you were sixteen. That was the first year you’d spent without the comfort of having your best friend next door. You were proud of Nolan, but it didn’t take away from how rough of a year it was without him. He finally plops down next to you, “So what’s been going home?”

“Same old, same old,” You say, pulling the joint from your hoodie pocket, twirling it in your hand.

Nolan laughs, “You’re going to get me in so much trouble one of these days.”

Regardless of his words, Nolan snatches the joint and lighter out of your hand, lighting the paper and taking a big puff, coughing as soon as he did.

“You’re losing your touch Nols,” You say, joking about when you were younger Nolan could smoke more than anyone - hockey being the only reason he’d stop. You take a huge puff of smoke, blowing it out easily.

“Why are we still friends? All you do is bully me,” Nolan says, nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

“You’re too grumpy for everyone else,” You say, “I just put up with it.”

Nolan laughs, and your heart swells at the sound. You’d missed him, and you were happy to have him with you. He looked like your Nolan when he was home, his eyes a little glassy from the joint, his cheeks rosy and full of joy, and his eyes that only ever seemed to be on you.

“How are you?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder. You knew he had a rough season with everything that was going on. You’d wished you could have been there but you got so wrapped in school you couldn’t find the time to make the trip out to Philly.

“Some days are good, some days are bad,” Nolan says solemnly, “I wish I got to play.”

“I wish you got to play too,” You say, moving your hand to run through his hair, “You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

You fell into a long conversation about what the other person had missed. Nolan told you about his year, living with Kevin and TK’s usual antics. You talked about how college was going, living out in Alberta to go to art school. You got so excited talking about your classes and what you’d been creating.

“Speaking of art school, take any thought to those post grad plans?” Nolan asks, looking down at you next to him.

You sigh, knowing what he’d been referring to. He mentioned it from time to time, moving to Philly with him after you finally graduated. He knew it was a good city to create art in and that you would have more opportunities out there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to up and leave everything you’ve ever known to move all the way to Philadelphia - even if it was with Nolan.

“I don’t know Nols,” You say.

He nods, it was the same answer you always gave him, “I just want you to have every opportunity you deserve.”

You smile, he’d always been your number one supporter. You sometimes think you could the worst painting in the world but Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to say he liked it. He didn’t totally understand art, and it definitely wasn’t his comfort zone but he always listened to you talk about it anyways.

“I’ll give you an answer next summer,” you say, “Pinky promise.”

Nolan’s eyebrows raise at the seriousness of your voice, “A pinky promise?”

“Yeah Nols, let’s go, hold it out,” You say, holding your pinky out for his to link with yours.

“If it matters, I really want to have you out in Philly with me, you’ll love it,” Nolan says, throwing his arm around you to pull you closer.

Your face finds its usual spot, tucked right under Nolan’s chin, he still felt the same. He talked more about Philly, and all of the things about it he knew you’d love. You doze off, the sounds of Nolan’s deep voice putting you to sleep easily.

You scan the house party for the millionth time, waiting to see when Nolan was getting there. He had a late afternoon skate, and you knew for a fact that he was going to pass out afterwards - but at this point you thought he was never going to make it out.

“Are you looking for your other half?” You hear your friend, Kacey, say.

“He’s not my other half,” You say to the tattooed brunette next to you, her eyebrow raised at you, and you took a big gulp of your drink to try and avoid the topic all together.

“He wants you to move to Philly with him after you graduate,” Kacey says, “You’re practically married, and he’s here.”

Your whips around to the front door, Nolan walking in, his skateboard in hand and a case of beer in the other.

You hear Kacey scoff at how quickly you turned your head, “I hate both of you really.”

Kacey walked away as soon as Nolan spotted you, walking over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Nice of you to show up,” You say, pulling back from his arms, “Take a good nap?”

“How did you know I was asleep?” Nolan says, grabbing a beer for himself.

You turn your head, giving him a knowing look, “We both know you’ve been passed out for the last like four hours.”

Nolan laughs, “You’re 100% right.”

Nolan sticks by your side for the rest of the night. He’s never been one for parties, even if all of his friends were there. You didn’t mind, having Nolan around allowed you to drink however much you wanted. You knew he’d keep you safe, and there wasn’t anything bad about having all of his attention. He’d been your partner for beer pong, ignoring the look Kacey was giving you from across the table. You had lost him eventually, after you insisted he danced along to the Blink 182 song that was playing on the speaker.

“Nols!” You say, finally finding him across the party, leaning against the wall on his phone, you step in his arms, the alcohol blurring the boundaries you usually set for yourself.

Nolan slipped his phone back into his pocket, one his hands moving to weave through your hair, “Ready to go?”

You nod, definitely ready to pass out. Nolan smiles, grabbing his skateboard he’d left right at the door, and your hand, walking right out the front door.

Your mouth curves up to a smile, “Nols…” you whine, trying your best to pout at the boy in front of you.

Nolan sighs, turning around so you could hop onto his back. You jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. Nolan drops his skateboard, stepping onto it and heading in the direction of your house. It wasn’t the first time you made Nolan carry you home, it was so easy when he just could.

“Are you ever going to get sick of this?” You mutter into his shoulder.

“Of what? Carrying you home?” Nolan asks, and you nod, “Nope.”

“You’re lying,” You tease, knowing there was no way Nolan hasn’t gotten sick of you yet. You’d been bothering him since the day he moved next door and you knew you wanted the rosy cheeked boy to be your best friend. Your eyes started to get heavy when Nolan finally hit your street, stopping in front of your house.

“Be sure to give me a five star rating,” Nolan says, bending down gently so he could get you down.

“Ride was a little bumpy, you can have four,” You say, opening the gate to the front of your house, “Get home safe Nols.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, waiting for you to walk into your house. He closed the gate behind you, walking over to his house to head to bed, checking his window one more time to make sure you were in bed before he fell asleep.

You walked around the small art supply store, the same place you’d been working in since you were sixteen. It was the best, you got a great employee discount and the older couple who owned it let you work when you were home from college. The bell above the door chimes, Nolan stepping into the store, two iced coffees in his hands.

“Is that Nolan?” Barbara, the owner of the store, called out as soon as he walked in, “Here to get Y/N into trouble?”

Nolan laughs, handing you your coffee and looking over to the older woman standing behind the counter, “If anything, I’m here to keep her out of trouble.”

You roll your eyes, “Hardly, Barb he can’t even tie his shoes.”

“I can! I just choose not too,” Nolan bickers back.

Barbara laughs at your antics, “You two are so funny, I’m going to run out, I think you guys can handle it?”

Nolan salutes the older woman while you snicker behind him, “I think she trusts us too much.”

“Us? It’s you she trusts too much,” Nolan says.

Nolan spends the rest of your shift at the store bothering you. He helped you stock the shelves, reading off the weird names of the paint bottles he was putting up. And when you asked Nolan why he was spending a beautiful summer day inside working with you, he just shrugs and tells you there's nothing he’d rather do.

Summer nights had always been spent the same. They were either at some party, the treehouse, or Nolan and yourself would just hang out in your room. He’d let you paint, setting up his own video games in your bedroom so he could keep you company. You both enjoyed your peace and quiet - but you enjoyed it even more with each other.

Tonight was one of those nights, you were standing in the corner of your room, a blank canvas in front of you. You’d been looking for inspiration for almost a week, just having no idea what to even work on. You tie your hair up into a bun, and you step back, hands fiddling with the end’s of the oversized t-shirt you had over your shorts.

“What’s up with you?” Nolan asks, his focus not breaking the game he was playing.

“I don’t know what to paint,” You huff, hands on your hips.

Your mind ponders for a minute, and you pull out the box of polaroids next to your bed. You dump them on your bed, hoping you took a picture that could spark something. Nolan pauses his game, moving to look at the picture you poured out. There were ones of him, and ones you took when you came to see him in Philly. There were images of your friends, your roommates at college, and your family. You took your camera with you everywhere, you just liked having the memories. Nolan pulls a photo up, of someone’s back painted with a scene of the beach.

“Oh that’s Kacey,” You say, it was something you’d seen on Instagram that you wanted to try.

“You could do that to me?” Nolan says, voice deeper than usual.

You think about it for a moment, Nolan was big, and quite frankly his back wasn’t a bad canvas, “Okay turn around.”

You move to grab some paint and some brushes, watching as Nolan grabs the back of his t-shirt, tossing it in the corner of your room. You shake any of the dirty thoughts that ran through your head as you sit next to him. Nolan turns to you, grabbing your leg and swinging it over his waist so you were straddling him, grabbing his controller and going back to his game. You take a deep breath, and get to work. You think about what you’re going to paint, but you just let your mind rest - painting whatever came to your mind at the moment.

“Tell me if the paint is too cold for you,” you say, moving to create some sort of base on his back.

“I think I can handle it, Y/N” Nolan deadpans.

You start to think about Nolan and the thing he loves most, painting a forest in the back that looked like the one at lake you’d both spent your summers at. You painted evergreen trees and a glimpse of the lake in the corner. Quite frankly, by the time you were done you were proud of yourself.

“Take a picture, I want to see,” Nolan says.

You grab your phone, snapping a photo and tossing it to Nolan, “This is sick, you should really draw me something to get tattooed.”

“You don’t trust me that much,” You say, glancing at the photo on your screen, “Can I post this on my Instagram story?”

You ask, you always did. Nolan was a private person, and you knew he liked it that way. It was better than having to deal with him when he was grumpy.

“Go for it,” Nolan smiles, “I should probably head out.”

“Don’t sleep with that on your back,” You scold, watching Nolan as he goes to climb out the window of your bedroom, “Use the door, we’re adults Nolan.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nolan assures you, climbing down just like he used to when you’d hang out all night instead of sleeping.

You clean up your brushes and paint, trying to shove the feelings about the way Nolan’s back muscles moved under your touch to the back of your mind, to be locked up forever. You slide into bed, checking your phone to see only one notification, a DM from TK.

Tell me that’s Nolan

With summer came a various string of weekends up at the lake with your friends. The older you’d gotten, the more fun the weekends had become. You were all almost adults, just riding out one of the last summers together, and you all decided to rent out the house you usually did, cause it might be one of the last times you do. You sat in the passenger seat of Nolan’s jeep, just like you always did. Your coffee in one hand, and Nolan’s phone in the other, mindlessly changing the songs for the ride. You glance over at Nolan, the roof was off his jeep, and his hair had hit the morning light just right. He looked good, he always did.

“Did you really have to tell TK that was me in your story? He hasn’t stopped making fun of me for days,” Nolan says, looking at you.

“You guys spend so much time together, I think he just knew,” You say, knowing they’re basically a married couple at this point.

Nolan shakes his head, turning up the street to the lake house. You spot all the cars that were already there, knowing you and Nolan had to have been the last people to arrive. You run inside, leaving Nolan to grab your bag out the trunk, running right into Kacey’s arms.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Kacey says, pulling back, “I miscounted and there’s one room left so you and Nolan are going to have to bunk up.”

Nolan walks in during Kacey’s sentence, “That’s fine, which one is it.”

Kacey points to the room upstairs, Nolan nodding, your bags already in his hands to bring upstairs. You turned to Kacey when he was out of earshot, “You did this on purpose.”

“If rooming together is all it would take to get you guys together, it’s not the rooming together it’s the fact that you guys are obsessed with each other,” Kacey says.

“Best friends, we are best friends,” You defended, you knew better though. Something was shifting between the two of you, but you didn’t know if it was from getting older or if it was something more.

Kacey shakes her head at you while you head up to your room, Nolan unpacking his stuff.

“You’re okay sharing a room?” you ask, knowing you could bunk with Kacey if you really had to.

“I’m fine with it, I’m going to go fishing with the boys for a bit, I’ll see you after?” Nolan says, stopping at the bedroom.

“No I’m actually going to go home,” you say sarcastically, unpacking your own bags.

You spend the rest of the afternoon next to the lake, getting a tan and day drinking with Kacey and the rest of your girlfriends. You guys head inside, setting up for the party you were throwing for the rest of your friends who’d been up at the lake too. You get dressed for the silly tourist theme you’d planned, tucking the terrible Hawaiian shirt you’d bought into the jean shorts you were wearing. Nolan pops out behind you and you take in his outfit, the shorts that hit above his knee, showing off his thigh tattoo, the Hawaiian shirt that matches yours, and his god awful mid calf socks. He had his vans on - and of course they were untied.

“You have the worst taste in fashion,” You laugh, Nolan striking a pose in response.

“Sorry we’re all not you, I can’t make this shirt look good,” Nolan says, poking at your sides gently, causing you to blush.

He walked out of the room and you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. It was now or never with your feelings, you either had to tell him or you had to just get over him but you couldn’t keep pushing them down, it was going to drive you crazy. You move down to the party, seeing it’s in full swing already. You grab a drink, moving to go play drinking games with Kacey. After a few hours, you were a little buzzed but mostly sweating from the heat inside. You step out, walking over to the docks and staring out at the lake in front of you. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you knew it had to be Nolan.

“Needed a minute?” Nolan asks, knowing you would disappear from parties from time to time, and you nod because he was always right.

“Nols, can I ask you something?” You ask, your voice small, a tiny amount of courage guiding you to ask him a question that’d you wanted to ask since he got home, “Do things feel different between us?”

“Do you want them too?” Nolan asks, looking over at you with rosy cheeks, and a nervous look in his eyes.

“So badly,” You whisper, looking into his eyes that had gone soft at your words. Nolan leans in and you stop him for a moment, “Nolan this has to mean something to you too.”

“Everything, it means everything,” Nolan says finally, planting a kiss on your lips, your bodies molding together out on the dock underneath a twinkly night sky. It felt so right for your lips to be on his, your hands running through your hair, and hearing him finally say that he felt the same you have.

“So Philly?” Nolan asks, finally pulling away, the question he asked you when he first got home still burning.

“We’ll talk later,” You promise, stealing another kiss from his lips.

#nolan patrick #that's my greasy stoner boyfriend #nolan patrick imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

280 notes · View notes

httphonsool · 3 years

Text

the great spymaster

2. dancing shadows

synopsis; a series of drabbles in which you manage to conquer the great, brooding spymaster’s heart, this time; you’re both in a library.

warnings; mentions of assault/hinting towards assault, hallucination, nightmares, cutting, i think that’s it but let me know if there’s something i missed.

tag list; @grandpascurtains @samaras-weavings

notes; i don’t think i took too long to write this did i? well, anyways, the story progresses and you find out more about the reader’s life and personality, i’m not sure how many parts this will have, it’ll probably be a lot as these are quite short, but anyway yeah, enjoy!!

My, my, it’s been four days, or well, you’re guessing it’s been four days due to the meal pattern you’ve figured out, and not a word from the strange, beautiful interrogator. Perhaps if it wasn’t such an odd situation you would have taken a liking to the interrogator but after having stuck you in a cell with only darkness for a whole week, it’s hard to say you even want to talk to him. You’ve noticed shadows lingering in the darkness, highly resembling those who’ve wronged you in your past, one face nagging at your brain with clear persistence. This was a madhouse. You see hallucinations, reliving your worst memories, you dream of your worst days; though you could hardly call them dreams, it’s hard feeling much other than fear, so you’ve taken to pressing into your previously shackled wrists, scratching and cutting into the raw, bruised flesh with your nails just to feel pain. A madhouse.

How long does a consultation with his High Lord take? Surely it couldn’t have taken more than at least a day. Or perhaps this High Lord doesn’t exist and you’re dreaming, just dreaming. Or maybe this High Lord is cruel, not wanting to spare much time over you and slowly torture you until you died—

“I assure you, torturing you is not the reason my spymaster and I took so long. We had protocols to abide by.” You turn your head to see your interrogator and a man—it’s hard to see in the dark but the men in this realm seem to have very prominent eyes, this man’s is almost violet. Your interrogator’s hazel eyes seem to give much more mercy than those of his High Lord, “So you’ve broken our wards, I hear.” The High Lord continues, pointing his eyes down, pacing around your cell.

“I’ve heard this news too, except I didn’t even know these wards existed.” You say. The High Lord paces some more, searching for something; what he was searching for you had no clue but you waited in silence for as long as he was quiet.

“After looking into your mind I see no reason to keep you in this cell any further,” The High Lord pauses, offering a smile as you breathe a sigh of relief, “but you can’t go back, either.”

“Please,” You plead, “I beg you, take me out of here.” You hope he sees the purple smudges that have appeared from your lack of sleep; lack of being able to stay sane.

“Oh, we’re taking you out,” your interrogator speaks, for the first time that day, “I’ll be watching over you the entire time.”

“W-where- where are you taking me?” Your arms tremble, the deathly temperature nipping away at your skin.

“The House of Wind,” The High Lord replies, “where my spymaster, Azriel, will be watching over you.”

The House of Wind was…it was something for sure with its ten thousand steps, of course, the view from the house was quite picturesque but you didn’t have time to admire it while you feel like Rapunzel in her tower, though even Rapunzel wasn’t given the luxury of ten thousand steps down to a city.

Your room, however, was definitely a score with its rustic four-post bed, old-fashioned red curtains that drooped low to the white-marble ground, and the grand walk in wardrobe: it was rich, yet tasteful. You really felt like a princess. Though, I suppose you aren’t far from it with you locked up high in building with little to no contact with the real world.

Being some princess wasn’t even the worst of your problems, no, no, the worst of your problems was the Fae man with swirling shadows surrounding him who looked like a God and barely spoke to you since he flew you up straight into your doom.

Right now, you were sitting in the library, the great spymaster only a couple of metres away from you, glancing at you every few minutes, his shadows no longer visible, as if they had melted into their surroundings.

“Is there absolutely nowhere else I can go? I have to stay up here?” Those are the first words you’ve spoken to him since you both arrived.

“Not necessarily.” You wish you could reach over and rip his throat out for being so short-spoken.

“Can you explain?” You grumble, turning the page of your book.

“I could fly you to anywhere, really,” He pauses deciding whether or not he should continue, “The only policy is that I have to watch over you.” Is he free all the time? Surely this man had his own duties.

“Don’t you have other duties? Couldn’t someone else watch over me?” You ask, keeping your eyes on your book.

“I have other people taking care of the work. This was an order from the High Lord.”

“So I’m stuck with you? All the time? I can’t even breathe without you stalking over me?” You huff; out of all the people you could’ve been stuck with… it had to be some quiet, short-spoken, boring shadowsinger (which by the way, no, you do not know what that means but you heard him mention something about it on your way here, you’re guessing it has something to do with the shadows coming out of his body), who can’t even hold a conversation to save his life?

“If you want your space go to your room and get naked, I assure you I won’t be coming in to see you any time soon while you’re in those conditions.” You have to admit it hurts that someone so pretty and so beautiful has just insinuated that he thinks your body is ugly, but the great spymaster- who you don’t even know the name of- doesn’t need to know that.

You scoff, “You fae have some audacity. Take me to some other library I can read in, I want to see more of this city.”

So he did, and you screamed as he took off into the air without any warning, and you screamed some more when you landed and saw in a puddle how messy your hair had become; it’s safe to say he didn’t give a damn at all, if anything you think he looked quite satisfied.

You learned that the priestesses ran the library, only allowing people they approved into the library, and for whatever reason they saw fit, they approved you. Maybe it was because you could relate to their experiences somehow, maybe they could feel the trauma in your past, but you didn’t say anything; just thanked them and went about on your conquest to find the filthiest, most smutty books to read.

So here you sat, your eyes pretending to read your book whilst your ears listened into the conversation he was having with some priestess of the library. Her name was Gwyn apparently, and though it was none of your business, you were interested anyway. She’s gorgeous. That’s the only comment there is to make, and she seems quite pleasant too, sincere and honest; but of course, she’s a priestess.

And you don’t miss the way the shadowsinger’s shadows dance and prance around her, celebrating and indulging her presence. They don’t show up around you, which meant that the shadowsinger actually must be friends with her. You gasp with realisation; maybe he even feels for her.

At least he can actually feel something.

“How much longer were you going to listen into my conversation?” He asks, crouching down beside you.

“I wasn’t listening, just observing.” You state, turning the corner of your page. He doesn’t answer.

A few moments later, he opens his mouth, “What did you observe?”

“Just some things,” you tease, he stares at you expectantly, “those shadows were dancing around her,” you turn another page, “maybe…it’s because you have feelings for her.”

“Shut up.” No blushing, no smiles, just a boring monotone face. What a dickhead.

Well at least one thing was clear; neither of you liked each other very much.

#azriel #azriel x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #acotar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #drabble #lucien vanserra #lucien #lucien x reader #scenario

123 notes · View notes

aomineavenue · 4 years

Text

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 007. realizations

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ dinner disaster | realization | chapter seven bonus ↪

mia’s note(s):

another easter egg found here! can you find it?

i’m so excited because we’re almost done. remember how i said it’s 12 chapters? well, i’ve shortened it ok lmao dont be mad but homesick is almost over hehe

i would just like to personally thank @newfriendjen and @hqstuffsforme bcoz they literally give me the motivation I need to continue writing lmao

The model scrunches her features up in annoyance, puffing her cheeks as if she were a child being deprived of sweets. She flickers her attention over to you, her jaw clenching at the mere fact a woman was seated next to him. “Excuse me.”

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” she answers, her eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.”

The past few weeks had been exhausting for him, and it wasn’t because of their intense training for upcoming games. His exhaustion’s source was mainly from the most recent important events, it took a toll on him emotionally. While this may be true, he understands there wasn’t anyone to blame but himself. The anger still existed somewhere in his mind, displeasing him whenever his thoughts reminded him of the chances he had lost to take care of his kids at a much younger age, but he had tried his best to subdue those particular emotions ever since that night. Chaotic as it was, it took him a step closer towards the realization of what he really needed to do. All he needed now was a little shove.

“‘Tsumtsum!” he hears her screech, the muscles around his shoulders grow tense. The irony of it all, just as they were discussing that horrendous memory of the Christmas Party just last December that he had tried his best to eradicate from his brain due to his own embarrassment, he couldn’t believe the model in question had instantaneously emerged out of thin air. What was she doing all the way here in Kanagawa? It was as if he had no escape from her suffocating clutches. A quick glance towards his brother and he recognizes the criticizing features sewn on his twin’s features and all he could do was share a silent communication, pleading for his aid.

Out of all the times this woman could appear, she appears at the very moment where he was sort of, trying, to redeem himself. Silently, he prays as she snakes her arms around his neck, that you, settled next to him, wouldn’t conclude anything from it, but who was he kidding? The position itself was sufficient evidence for you to come up with the conclusion he’s dreading. He can sense everyone’s eyes on him, the irritation they were radiating for such disruption. As she releases another infuriating squeal, this time an inch away from his ear, he pries her hands away from his neck and wraps his fingers around her wrist to pull her to the side.

Her lower lip juts out to a pout as she stands by the table, ignoring the dirty look he was directing her way. “What’s wrong ‘Tsumtsum? Did you not like my surprise?”

“Surprise?” he disputes, his brows furrowed in confusion as he releases his grip from her wrist, displeasure evident in his tone as he spoke. “Don’t tell me you were stalking me, Yumi.”

She folds her arms across her chest and lets out a scoff of disbelief escape her lips, “You make it sound as if I’m not your girlfriend or something!”

“Well, you aren’t.” he argues, a sigh of frustration escaping his lips, “We’ve talked about this. We’re not together and how did you know I was going to be here anyway?”

“That’s some serious stalking there, Yumi-san.” Hinata quips from his seat innocently, the other individuals around the table attempt their best to contain their sniggering at the sight of the model going red in the face from both anger and embarrassment.

She releases a grunt from her lips, sending a glare towards Hinata’s direction before turning her attention back at him, flashing him an innocent smile. “I don’t care what you say, we’re dating. You can’t just drop me like that. What we have is something special, you love me right? You never really said it before, but I know you’re just being shy, ‘Tsumtsum, it’s o—”

“Please,” He interjects, “Drop it. We’ve discussed this already, Yumi.”

You arch an eyebrow, noticing her glowering towards your direction. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” she answers, her angry eyes betraying the smile she had on, “I believe you’re in my seat.”

“Yumi!” Atsumu hisses, pushing himself to stand from his seat. “Stop this, right now. We’re trying to have a quiet dinner.”

Clearing your throat, you avoid the model’s glare as you stand yourself, “I think I’m full, and I’d like to return to the hospital. She can have my seat.”

“Wait, what?” Reiji chokes, sharing a panic glance over to his current partner in crime across from him. “But we haven’t even gotten to the main course,”

Yumi squeezes her way towards your seat after pulling you away from where you stood with abrupt force, a happy squeal leaving her lips as she occupies the seat you sat on seconds ago, she turns to look up at you, a smug smile evident in her features, “Safe travels.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night, everyone.” you bid, bowing your head slightly before your feet take off towards the exit of the restaurant.

“Good riddance, if you ask me.” Yumi scoffs with a wave of her hand to capture everyone’s attention. She claps her hands together excitedly as she looks up at Atsumu, “I missed you so much, ‘Tsumtsum! You never bring me to dinners with your friends, this is so exciting for our relation—”

As Reiji was practically seething from the side like a predator ready to pounce an attack towards its enemy for disrespecting his best friend like that, and from the sudden thought of regret entering his mind of how he shouldn’t have trusted Atsumu for not doing anything. However, such thoughts were crushed almost instantly at the sight of the furious glare Atsumu was sending over to the model that was seated uninvitedly on your seat.

The sight of a furious Atsumu was enough to send a chill through her spine, as she was about to try to soothe the volleyball player by reaching out for him, he slaps her hands away which causes her to whimper, jutting her lower lip out to pout. “What did I do?”

“Are you serious, Yumi?” he snaps, nails burying into his palms to restrain his growing irritation, “I can’t believe you would do that.”

“Why does it matter?” she whines, trying to reach out for him once again, only to fail as he steps back further, “Are you serious right now? Who was that bitch anyway?”

Reiji interrupts, his voice full of venom from behind the model, “I’d watch your tongue if I were you.”

“Whatever,” she stutters, attempting to look unfazed by the singer’s words by rolling her eyes but her quivering posture radiated otherwise, “She shouldn’t matter, ‘Tsumtsum, let’s just continue dinner.”

“What are you? A child?” Osamu intrudes, not able to hold back his tongue any longer from this model’s personality, “Stop calling my brother such a horrendous nickname like a squealing pig.”

An offended gasp escaped her lips, glowering towards Osamu, “He likes it when I call him that, so sucks to be you! And I’m not a child, I’m a fully grown woman.”

“Could have fooled me,” Asuma mutters underneath his breath.

Yumi lets out a grunt. “Tell them, baby. You like it when I call you—Where are you going?”

He doesn’t spare her a glance, weaving his way through the restaurant to run after you, “I hate that nickname.”

Before Yumi could stand up and follow after him, her path was blocked by the other individuals around the table who had stood up the second they realized Atsumu’s plan of action. “What are you doing? Let me through! You’re all going to regret this!”

Yumi’s screech was the last thing Atsumu heard as he steps out of the restaurant, a part of him feeling bad for his friends being left to deal with Yumi’s ridiculous antics and well, for the other people in the restaurant that might have had their ears traumatized. He never really understood what he saw in her in the first place, it was Yumi who had approached him in the beginning anyway. He should have listened to Osamu instead.

He looks around frantically, wanting to be able to catch up to you. He needed to talk to you, to apologize for Yumi’s behavior. He was just hoping that, somehow, he still had a chance to fix things with you. Hopefully, Yumi’s appearance hadn’t ruined those chances.

He catches a glimpse of your retreating figure walking towards the nearest bus station and he feels his heart soar, you haven't gone too far yet. He doesn’t waste any more time than he already has, sprinting towards your direction, calling out your name.

At the sound of his voice, your name rolling off of his tongue in desperation, you turn your head to look back with confusion. He reaches you almost instantly after you pivot your body to face his direction. Despite looking flustered as he catches his breath, he takes your breath away.

“Oh, sorry.” a feminine voice interrupts his train of thought through memory lane, causing him to turn around, startled, “I didn’t realize someone was already occupying the balcony.”

He lets out an awkward laugh, shaking his head, “No, it’s okay. It’s not like I’d stop you, I don’t own the space or anything.”

“So you don’t mind if I share your space? The party inside is kind of suffocating.” she lets out a sigh, avoiding his gaze sheepishly.

“I don’t mind at all,” he nods, tearing his gaze away from her as she steps out onto the balcony. He returns his gaze over to the buildings of Shinjuku, the different bright hues from various buildings painting the night sky.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He hums softly, lifting the cold bottle of Sapporo up to his lips to take a quick sip. He lets out a sigh, “Just some stuff, it’s nothing really.” He turns to look over at her when she steps towards the edge of the balcony near him, “Wait, aren’t you Tobio-kun’s sister? The sports journalist?”

She lets out a laugh with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I’m glad I’ve made a name for myself then for some of the players here to recognize me. Though, I don’t think I appreciate being known as Tobio’s sister, not that I’m not proud of my brother or anything.”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” he states sheepishly.

She shakes her head, offering him a small smile. “It’s okay, no worries. You realize the party is inside, don’t you? I think I heard Bokuto-san looking for you or something.”

“I suppose I’m not really in the mood right now,” he mutters underneath his breath, looking back up ahead. “Not really in the right mind space. I don’t really know why I’m telling you this, you’re a journalist.”

She pouts, “I’m not as bad as those gossiping sharks. I prefer to actually produce worthy news. Speaking of news, you’ve been everywhere lately. I suppose it’s hard for you. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happens.”

“I don’t mind it,” he admits, his forehead creasing.

“Pardon?”

He lets out another sigh, shifting his position so his back is leaning against the railing of the balcony, “I don’t mind it. I just wish she was left out of things. She doesn’t deserve such slander.”

“I suppose the woman associated in the news with you actually means something to you then,” she muses, “I always thought that model Yumi was irritating. I’m sure her fame will fly out the window sooner or later.”

He lets out a scoff of irritation, taking another swig of the beer in his hand, “Don’t even remind me of her.”

“She’s not really well liked either,” the journalist beside him snickers, “Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll grow wrinkles. Say, Miya-san, do you love her?”

He’s startled by the direct question, if it were not for his tight grip around the beer bottle, it would have slipped from his fingers and came crashing to the floor. No one, not even his brother, had asked him such a question. He never really thought about it, but ever since that night, you were all he could think about. “It’s complicated.”

“A lot of things are complicated.” she starts, tilting her head back up to look at the dark sky from the penthouse balcony, “There will always be complications, you know. But, do you know what’s the bright side of it?”

He turns his head to look over at her in curiosity, “What?”

She lets out a heavy sigh, a sad smile forming on her lips. “For each complicated situation we are in, the only person who can deal with such complications, is ourselves. Everything is in our hands. The only question you should be asking yourself is, what is the outcome you wish to have? Then from there, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a solution to your complicated situation.”

“I wish it were that easy,” he frowns, fluttering his eyelids shut as he lets the cold night breeze brush against his skin.

A laugh escapes her lips, “Nothing is ever easy. Life would be boring if that were the case. But all I can say is, it’s really up to you whether you want to take action or not.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the two occupants on the balcony, the soft chatter from the V.League Association party almost seemed it were music flowing throughout the large penthouse, the usual busy streets of Shinjuku were quiet as the time flew by, signalling how late it had gotten.

“Thank you,” Atsumu breaks the silence, a small smile playing on his lips.

She nods her head, returning his smile with her own, “It’s nothing, really. I may not know what’s really happening, but I know the feeling of being part of a complicated situation. Trust me, I’m having a hard time following my own advice.”

“I’m sure you’ll—”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The two switch their attention over to the man that steps into the comfortable space, Atsumu flickering his gaze back and forth to the woman next to him and the volleyball player that made his appearance. He notes the stiff posture of the woman who had been accompanying him and he comes to the conclusion that it was his cue to leave. “Ah, no Ushijima-san. I believe you’re looking for this one, so I’ll leave you two to it.”

Before Atsumu could leave the two to talk, the woman calls out his name. He glances back over his shoulder, capturing a glimpse of her encouraging smile. “If you love her, you should let her know.”

He gives her an appreciative smile before stepping back inside of the penthouse, the murmur of a chatter earlier from the balcony becoming more clear and loud. Placing the half-empty bottle of Sapporo down on a surface in the lounging area, he glances over at the digital wall clock.

An hour until midnight. It would take him at least an hour or so to travel back to Kanagawa from Shinjuku.

Not wasting another second, despite the calls from his teammates, he leaves the party with determination.

The thin hospital blanket you had requested earlier from a nurse barely gave you any warmth, your body engulfed in a chilly embrace. Not even curling up your body to a fetal position and clinging the white sheets closer gave you any source of heat.

Letting out a groan of frustration, you push the blankets away and shift your body to a sitting position on the rather uncomfortable armchair provided by the hospital, giving up on sleep for the meantime. Aside from the murmur produced from the air conditioner and the steady beeping of Atsuhiro’s vitals indicating a healthy heartbeat from the monitor, it was too silent for your liking.

You realize it was almost midnight after a quick glance at the digital clock that rested on the surface of the side table next to Atsuhiro’s bed, and you couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh. At least Atsuhiro was sleeping peacefully. It had taken a while before he had gotten used to sleeping in another bed that wasn’t his, often waking up in the middle of the night or not being able to sleep at all.

The sound of shuffling breaks your train of thought and you shift your attention over to your sleeping mother who you insisted occupied the small couch. A little sore back was nothing of an appreciation for your mother’s attentiveness to your sons. She had refused to return back to Hyōgo until Atsuhiro had been discharged from the hospital, and despite it taking awhile since there hadn’t been a suitable donor for him yet, not a single complaint had left your mother’s mouth.

You couldn’t help but shoulder the burden of the delay on finding Atsuhiro a donor, the past weeks had been hectic and stressful. And if you were going to be honest, ever since that disaster of a dinner, you had been putting off the idea of having the much needed talk with Atsumu. You were just thankful that Atsuhiro’s condition hadn’t worsened since then.

You were, more or else, afraid, of where or how the conversation was going to end. The doubt you had was not just because of your insecurities, but it was also because, since that night, you hadn’t heard from Atsumu himself. You couldn’t blame him, the night had ended in disaster as well, nor was the morning after very pleasant from being bombarded with strings of questions from your friends.

Fame.

It was something you never got used to despite your friends being in a boy band for so long. You were now under the spotlight, and what was worse was that after some thorough digging by crazy fans, your sons, your precious sons, had been dragged through mud. However, you were grateful for certain fans, the fans of Galaxy Standard in particular, had defended you without much of a command from their idols. As soon as your name, and your kids, were mentioned, they immediately jumped in to defend you. Bless their souls.

Although, you still couldn’t believe it yourself of the events that occurred right after you had exited the restaurant, intent on returning to the hospital.

The already dreadful night takes a turn for the worst, the annoying high pitched shrill being repeated causing you to wince as the woman who had completely ruined, well, a already ruined dinner made her way through the threshold of little sanity that you had left and closed the gap between her and Atsumu by wrapping her arms around his neck from behind where he sat, she was dangerously standing close to you, more so enough for you to maybe stab your chopsticks to her side for her pesky squealing. What is she trying to imitate? A tortured pig?

You didn't bother to cease your eye roll, this is Atsumu's type? Now, you know you aren't all that amazing or anything and looking at the woman clinging to Atsumu, she looked all around amazing, it was pretty obvious that she was a model. However, the personality she was exhibiting was nowhere near your expectations of the women Atsumu would date. It was overbearing.

Instead of dealing with such ridiculous antics from a grown woman acting like a child, you decide it was best to find an excuse to leave. As the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter, you took it without any hesitation despite the quiet protests of Reiji from behind you. Exhaustion had left you with little sanity and dealing with someone like Yumi, well, you weren’t having it.

Saying your polite goodbye, you left without another word, ignoring the pleading looks from your friends. It wasn’t as if you were angry or anything, maybe just a tad on the jealous side when Yumi had introduced herself as Atsumu’s girlfriend, but either than that, you just wanted a quiet night. The rowdy bunch was already enough to drain you, but having to deal with someone like Yumi? Yeah, no thanks.

Stepping out of the restaurant, you shiver from the rush of cold air that brushes against the exposed patches of skin, making you silently regret not bringing a jacket with you. Instead of dwelling on your silly mistake, you wrap your arms around yourself for your momentary source of warmth, rubbing your exposed arms with your soft palms, it would have to do for the meantime.

Luckily, you were familiar with the area since you’ve been to the restaurant more times than you can count, that despite not having a ride back to the hospital, you were at least knowledgeable of the area. You began your journey towards the nearest bus stop, knowing it was still fairly early since the dinner hadn’t even progressed that far yet. Somehow, despite being irritated by Yumi's presence, you were grateful for intrusion, at least you would be able to return to Atsuhiro earlier than expected. You’d have to give Shizuma a call once you return to the hospital to check on Atsuhiko.

Thankfully, the walk to the nearest bus stop was short, because walking in heels was never something you adored, wincing already from the discomfort. You couldn’t wait to take them off for much more comfortable shoes. However, as you neared the bus stop, you hear his pleading shouts of your name and you halt almost instantly. For a moment, you wondered if it were just in your head, but at the sound of shouts mixed with hurried steps grew louder, your heart swells weirdly in your chest. Spinning around, you come to face Atsumu, catching his breath, his hands on his knees.

“What…?” you mutter under your breath, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your girlfriend back there?”

As he regains his composure, he pushes himself to stand properly, meeting your gaze instantly. His gaze catching your breath in your throat. Mesmerizing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he shakes his head, looking at you with sincerity in his eyes, “I promise.”

The corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “Why are you telling me this, Atsumu? It’s fine. You’re not obligated to tell me who you’re dating. Just because we have kids together, doesn’t mean we should fix our shit and get togeth—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, causing your eyes to widen briefly before your brows furrowed in confusion from his apology. Sensing your confusion, he continues, “I’m sorry for everything. For our shitty past, for not treating you better, for not realizing my idiotic ways. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

You press your lips to a thin line, racking your brain for a response. Well, what were you supposed to say? You had imagined this before, imagined what it would be like when Atsumu apologizes for things, and back then, you would have seen yourself rejecting his apologies, but as you stood there at that very moment, you couldn’t find the anger that you had. Then, you realized. This was Atsumu.

Your best friend since you were eight years old, the one person that always bothered and teased you to no end, but no matter what, you could never find yourself being mad at him for a long period of time. You were always quick to forgive him.

“And, I’m sorry for this,” he breaks your train of thought and you wonder what he means for a second, but as he closes the gap between the two of you as he cups your cheeks in his hands, you don’t fight back.

You let him bring your face closer to his.

You don’t fight back.

Not even when his lips had found its rightful place against your own.

You are pulled from your thoughts at the sound of knocking echoing throughout the quiet room, not realizing how your fingers have found their way against your lips, brushing along its luscious shape, almost as if you were reminiscing the sensation of his lips.

The sound of knocking interrupts you once more and for a second, you had thought you had imagined it, but as it was repeated a few more times, you began wondering who it might be. After crossing the room in long strides, you slide the door open, eyes widening at the man standing before you.

“I love you.”

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu imagine #atsumu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq imagines #hq x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader

405 notes · View notes

microcroft · 3 years

Note

Speaking of Merlin fics, if you don't mind, do you have any recommendations? I'd really appreciate it since Big ADHD means I have little patience for finding good ones -.-'

okay this was sent back in april but tumblr is garbage and i didn't see i had any new messages until right now?? im so sorry Anyway i fuckin get that my dude, except like my adhd does the opposite specifically with merlin fanfiction for the past year which has been my hyperfixation and i have been using to cope with a multitude of issues so you are in luck (if you still want recommendations) because i created a collection of my favorite fics that i am adding to a lot because i read a, quite frankly, concerning amount of merlin fics (there are some non merlin/arthur in it but its mostly merlin/arthur fics)

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bestfunnylittlemagictwinkfics but more specifically, the ones that immediately come to mind are the long but very good ones that live rent free in my mind, in no particular order, there are a bunch in the collection which are just as good but I am really tired right now and dont want to make this post extremely long so I just want to make sure you (and whoever else may be reading this) know about these ones:

Born of Magic - "Set after 1x13. When Arthur learns he is of magic, he decides it's time to grow out of Uther's shadows. Secrets are revealed, and Arthur comes to learn just how far his father is willing to go in his war against magic. With Merlin on his side, can Arthur build the kingdom he was destined to create?" Arthur has his own cool special brand of Once and Future King magic, merlin also he is adopted by a unicorn.

Para Bellum - "After Merlin goes missing, Arthur forges new alliances to repel a deadly threat to Camelot. Nothing will stop Arthur from finding Merlin, and nothing will stop Merlin from protecting Arthur -- no matter the cost." I will never get enough married Merlin and Arthur fics and this is

The Care and Keeping of Camelot - "With Arthur dead, Camelot's destiny has soured--if it was ever any good to begin with. Gwen is fed up with grief and mediocrity and takes matters into her own hands, returning to the start to make a better Camelot or break history trying. Knighthood, rekindling her first love, and Merlin's silly almanac are all just byproducts." Post Canon Gwen is sent back in time by Merlin fix Camelot using what they learned. Featuring Morgana and Gwen having homoerotic sword fighting lessons and Merlin and Gwen's mlm/wlw solidarity.

For Want of A Nail- "Fleeing from Essetir in the bloody beginnings of the Purge, Hunith finds herself on the doorstep of old friends. That's all it takes to untangle the skeins of destiny and weave a new tapestry." Canon rewrite set in an alternate universe where Merlin grows up with Leon as his adoptive big brother, he has a very good dog, he and Leon give morgana a puppy for her birthday (very important to me), there's a whole lot of pagan rituals (which i fucking love), and merlin is a badass with a staff and throwing knives.

pretty much every CaffeinatedFlumadiddle merlin fic I have read, they are genuine comedic gold and so fucking well written it blows my mind. but out of all of their fics my faves are: Calling the Middle Man (Lancelot's characterization in my head is now entirely based upon this fic) and Thick as Sorcerers (the cat scene had me dying, and also gwen and elyan's dynamic in this fic is so fucking good)

Next to You (It's The Rule) - In which Merlin and Arthur are pining for each other and basically married, and everyone knows it, Merlin is a little shit, and all of Camelot and other kingdoms love him and see him as their ruler because he is honestly running half the kindom. Merlin and Arthur cant cope with being separated from each other, and when they get into a fight the whole kingdom goes into a panic.

(how do i do a secondary bullet???) (i really do love this fic so much, i love reading merlin and arthur being dumbasses together and co-running camelot and the majority of this fic is so unique, funny and like exactly what i look for in fics, so please dont brush it off just based off of this but i want to state that im not a fan of the genuinely-calling-merlin-queen bit. it was funny at the beginning but it did get taken a bit too far at the end in my opinion. i get that it is fantasy medieval times and it makes sense that people probably dont quite grasp that there can be two kings, i could write a whole essay on this topic but in the end it does make me feel uncomfortable, a bit like forcing heteronormativity when you dont have to because its fantasy medieval times not actual medieval times, and misgendering- it honestly did trigger my dysphoria a bit at the end but there is so much in this fic that is so good I can't not recommend it.)

okay there we go im cutting myself off now. if you want any more fics or to talk about merlin at all hmu i mostly just send shit to my friend who has never watched the show but probably has an extensive knowledge on it just from the shit i have been sending her like every day for the past year lmao.

#merlin #merthur #fic rec #fearoffalling #life #haleigh gets talked to

30 notes · View notes

laurore-stormwitch · 3 years

Text

Did someone say Zoya and Genya getting ready for a ball? I had this sitting in my computer for a while. I've written it at the same time of the Nikolai/Genya interaction and went for that instead, leaving this unfinished, so that's the reason why they're similar. But even if this is not wildly original I decided to post it, maybe some of you will enjoy it anyway!

together now - AO3

word count: 2661 (cause I can’t write short fics sorry)

______________________________________________________________

“Zoya, if you move again, I’m going to turn your hair purple.”

Zoya rolled her eyes. Drama queen. Whoever believed that getting ready for a party with your friends was fun, clearly never had to deal with Genya’s perfectionist and dictatorial tendencies. She purposely shifted in her chair in front of the vanity, making Genya glare at her.

“Do you want me to complete my masterpiece or not?”

No, not really. Nothing about going to Sainkt Nikolai’s ball seemed to be exciting. Dreadful and annoying were the only two terms she could come up with to describe the evening in front of her. Mainly having to do to the fact that she was going to have to watch Nikolai and his future wife simper over courtiers and nobles, with the bride-to-be practically coerced to attend the ball. And she wasn’t even allowed to get drunk; saints forbid someone attempted to murder the king again.

“Do you want your hair up or down?” Asked Genya, moving some strands of her hair over her ears.

“Are you really inquiring for my opinion?” The squaller noted ironically, pouring herself another glass of wine.

“No, of course not. Down is better, they make you seem wilder.”

She winked at her and Zoya huffed again. Genya began braiding some thin locks away from her face, leaving the rest of her mane free on her shoulders. She weaved the fine tresses with silver threads and held them in place with diamonds pins. Zoya relaxed under her delicate touch.

“A bit more practice with breaking Grisha’s orders and I’m going to tailor myself at some point. What are you going to do when the day comes?”

She had meant it as a joke, the tone light. But through the mirror she saw a shadow pass behind Genya’s eyes and immediately regretted her words and lack of tact. They knew only one person who had held as much power as Zoya was wielding now; he was rotting in a cell beneath them, and Genya would forever wear his marks on her skin. Of course her mind would have run to him; she tended to darken whenever they touched the argument surrounding Zoya’s newly acquired abilities.

“I hadn’t meant to make you think about that, Genya. I’m sorry.”

Genya smiled at her, coming back to her delightful self.

“It’s okay. I’m just a bit worried about - well, about everything. How is it going with these powers? I’ve spied on you summoning fire the other day. You were glorious.”

Zoya curled her lips and held up her arm, making the fetter made of dragon scales dangle. Juris rumbled inside her. She had told Genya what happened in the Fold, in broad outline. Zoya knew that even if they didn’t say it, they were all concerned with this. She caught them glancing at her sometimes, as if they were waiting for a ticking bomb to go off. It was unpleasant, but she understood them; after all, she was waiting for herself to go off too.

“I’m managing. I’m still not so sure of what I can or cannot do.”

Genya kept working on her hairstyle thoughtfully, letting the quiet stretch between them. She bit her lower lip before adding something else, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Does it feel good?”

Zoya understood that question too. Power is protection. No matter the cost, it would always hold its appeal for a Grisha. That was the pull they felt towards the Darkling too.

“It feels risky.” She answered after a while, releasing a long breath. It was not like her to betray uncertainty or weakness, but she hadn’t anticipated how both frightening and fascinating it would feel to be in this position. “It’s so much power, Genya. What if I can’t control it?”

“If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you, Zoya.” There was not hesitation in this answer. Yet, Zoya didn’t feel much reassured. She didn’t have a sense of who – or what – she was becoming.

“What if it’s too much power?” She realized that was not the right question, the one thing she dreaded to come true. She corrected herself. “What if it’s not enough, and I want more?”

At this, Genya paused, avoiding Zoya’s gaze, and fell terribly silent. She looked worried, almost scared. A shiver went through Zoya’s spine at the idea of eliciting something like fear in one of the people she loved most. She felt a stabbing guilt and the sudden realization that she didn’t want to explore this topic more and find out what Genya was thinking. She waved a soothing smile at her friend, hoping to stir this exchange away.

“Enough of this. Don’t you want to show me the dress?”

Genya’s eye lightened up as she was pulled out from her gloom towards a more delightful diversion. She turned to the bed and pulled up Zoya’s gown, handing it to her. As usual, Genya had outdid herself. The gown matched the decor in her hair: Zoya thought of the dark midnight sky over Pachina while looking at it, one of the few memories she held from her childhood. When Genya moved it towards her, a million tiny crystals sparkled like stars against the sheer fabric. Zoya slipped inside it gracefully and turned to her, making the dress shimmer; the red head was gloating.

“I always give you the best dresses. All eyes are going to be stuck on you.”

Zoya doubted it, considering how equally gorgeous the other girl was looking right now, hugged by velvet the colour of blood. Genya made her wirl around on herself while she smoothed the dress; Zoya tried to reach for the wine, but Genya snatched the glass from her hands. She shrugged her shoulders at her outraged look. “What? I’m not going to let you stain this magnificent gown, excuse me.”

“You know, you have David’s adoration all for yourself.” Zoya pointed out, scowling. “Don’t get greedy. Let them admire me instead. If I can’t get drunk, I can at least have a different kind of fun.”

Genya rolled her single eye turning her gaze to Zoya, furrowing a brow at her.

“I do hope that by now you know that you have someone’s adoration all for yourself, too.”

Genya had clearly noticed the subtle shifts in Zoya and Nikolai’s behaviour, since she had been dropping this casual and mildly vague comments for a while now. At first, Zoya just ignored them; but then it occurred to her that denying what was going on was not the way to fight this. That maybe the right angle was to approach it much like a military campaign: know your enemy before you defy it. Which for her, it meant to understand what was happening so that she could crush it. And since feelings were not an area of expertise for Zoya, she had figured Genya could come in handy. So at some point she had just let it become a mutual understanding that this whatever-it-was-thing was out in the open, and she started posing carefully pondered question of her own. Zoya crossed Genya’s eye for an instant, replying with a sceptical click of her tongue.

“Both his adoration and his efforts better be for Ehri, for all our sakes. Much like his gaze better be kept on her all night like she’s the most beautiful creature to ever grace this earth. If he cannot sell it to her, at least he has to sell it for the rest of the world.”

“With you in that dress it’s going to be a challenge to look at anyone else.” Teased Genya, grinning. Zoya glared at her, pushing down the uncomfortable satisfaction this remark brought.

“He seems rather immune to my appearance and my presence.”

A poor and unconvincing objection, to say the least. Genya scoffed, handing her the wine as if she was going to need it to hear what came next. Zoya gladly took the offering.

“You do realize I’m a Corporalki, right?”

“What would that mean, apart from making people faint every now and then?”

“It means he can keep his eyes trained on the ceiling all night for all I care, because I’ll still feel his heartbeat spike up every time you pass beside him.”

Zoya didn’t much like to have this particular piece of information, that stirred some unpleasant feelings in her lungs. She swallowed the rest of the alcohol, her throat burning for something else entirely.

“Do you peer in all your friend’s visceral reaction for fun?”

“Just the two of you. Want to know what happens with you?” Mused Genya, knowing damn well the curiosity that sparkled in Zoya’s eyes and even more well feeling her breath itch. Know your enemy, right? Zoya grunted, not even bothering to try and look unfazed.

“Fine. Rip the band aid off.”

“Your heart usually beats like it’s at war. On the contrary, it slows down when he’s around, like you feel- I don’t know, safer. At home.”

Zoya fell silent, turning the words over in her head. It was always a punch in the gut when she wondered when things have started to turn and understood just how much they had turned. Instead of lingering on this painful realization, she did what she knew best and deflected the conversation again where it hurt most. She had the strange belief that if the heart was indeed a muscle, you had to train it like any other one in your body. The more pressure and blows you would put into it, the less you would feel the pain with time. Yuyeh sesh. Be cruel to your heart.

“How are the preparation for the wedding going?”

“As good as they can be.” Genya’s gaze turned sweet and affectionate, and she went along. “No one would say anything, you know. If you wanted to stay away for a while or get some distance.”

“We both know that a lot of people would say a lot of things.” Zoya held her chin high. “And you know that’s not my way of doing things. This is my place; I’m not going to let anyone take it away.”

I don’t want to live in darkness. She fought and lost and suffered to get to where she was. She was certainly not going to give it up for a bad timed and poorly chosen crush. An idiotic and simple crush. Genya nodded, getting the hint that it was enough for today. She seemed to remember something and got back to her tailoring kit.

“Speaking of Nikolai, there’s one thing missing. He gave them to me before I came here.”

Genya walked towards her and clipped what looked like a pin on her dress. She made her turn around to look herself in the mirror. Zoya felt something warming her from the inside when she looked at it; it was more of a medal than a pin. Ravka’s double eagle was shining on her chest, pleated gold, with Alina’s sun behind it and an Etherealki blue ribbon. It resembled the medals she saw on the supposedly war heroes’ generals that worked with Nikolai, but it was more elegant. She brushed her finger on it, full of pride.

“Me and David have one too.” Genya showed her the other one she was holding before securing it on herself. It was Corporalki red. “David has a Materialki purple ribbon. Nikolai told me people should always know we are his most trusted generals and friends. That we work for Ravka as much as he does, and we are owed the same respect, even at a ball.”

Respect. Recognition. Another time, Nikolai managed to surprise her. Because this wasn’t just a pretty thing, a nice embellishment. And while she had been his general for almost three years, that didn’t mean people had accepted and treated her with the appropriate regard. This was a symbol of the king’s trust, something that would force the nobles and the army to behave accordingly, even at events where it would be so easy to down-play her and treat her like another beautiful hollow courtier. Stupid thoughtful Nikolai. She was torn between wanting to kill him for making her feel like this or kiss him senseless for the same reason. Get a grip, Zoya.

“You’re not going to be like him, Zoya.” Zoya startled at Genya words, confused for a moment. She cleared her throat, shoving the treacherous thoughts she was having away. Genya had moved beside her, taking her hand in her own. Looking at Genya firm and proud gaze, she realized they were not talking about Nikolai anymore, and that she hadn’t dropped the conversation before because she was scared or angry at her. It was because she understood where Zoya’s fears were coming from, and she was facing them head on now.

“The Darkling.” She added to clarify, lingering on his name with a tremor in her voice. “Even with all the power you have, you are nothing like him. You managed to do what he had always claimed he wanted, and he had never done: you are saving Grishas, you are rebuilding the Second Army and you hold a position as the King’s right hand. What drives you is not the hunger for power; is the care you have for Ravka and your people. The Darkling wanted to control them, to own them. You protect them.”

Zoya tightened the hold of her hand, while looking at their reflections in the mirror, in the stunning gowns and the triumvirate’s pins. Two women who had believed in the wrong man and kept paying the price for their ingenuity, who had saved themselves in the end. She sucked in a breath, seeing someone she barely recognized; there was almost nothing left of the scared little girl. With the medal on her chest, diamonds in her hair and a glowing fierce light in her eyes she really looked like the leader she aspired to be. She wondered if she was still pretending, or some of the act was now true.

“Stop me before I can become like him.” Zoya blurted out, the words unsteady and whispered. Genya shook her head, leaning in towards her.

“You are different in every way. And you have something he never had; you have people who love you. Believe me, Nikolai is going to burn down all of Os Alta before he lets anything happen to you. None of us is going to let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not afraid of something happening to me, rather than to others.” What if I hurt Nikolai? What if I hurt anyone of you? Genya lowered her head on her shoulder, still holding her hand.

“We fought our way out of his grip once. We’re not going to let him bring us down. We’re stronger than we were before.”

“And we’re together, now.”

Zoya needed something to anchor herself on; the words felt uncertain, more like a question. Because she knew, deep down she knew she was still somehow living by what he had taught her: love is a weakness. And she knew that while Genya talked of friendship, Zoya herself was distancing from everyone. That she was suffocating her feelings for Nikolai, effectively cutting out the person she had relied on the most. That she didn’t know how to be close to someone. That, like the Darkling, she felt destined to be alone. And yet a part of her still needed to believe that a strand of what she conquered was going to save her, that someone was going to reach for her.

“And we’re together.”

Genya repeated, more firmly. We’re not going to let him bring us down another time. A litany. It was our blood on the skiffs, in the sand, on the rocks of a mountain. I’m nothing like him. An enchantment. And we’re together. He had taught her wrong. One day she would be free of this last cage, too.

#genya and zoya have my heart #i don't know if you can tell but i love genya as much as zoya and nikolai #genya safin #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoya and nikolai #zoyalai #mainly genya and zoya friendship #rule of wolves #nikolai duology #post kos #my writing #fan fiction #grishaverse

74 notes · View notes

knifeewifee · 4 years

Text

Into the Dark Tamaki x Fem! Reader

A/N: WOW this took fucking FOREVER, But I’m super proud of it! I didn’t proof read the last bit cause I’m LAZY but I hope yall like it!

This is in a Apocalypse AU. There are no Quirks in this AU. Female Reader

TW: NSFW, Gore, Death, Violence, Some Blood, SelfHarm ish, Kinda Angsty

Tag list: @strawbirb @heroheads @caprisun-calories @hummusatune @honeytama @we-mentally-unstable @redflannel @engel-hageshii

Check out the others here!: https://lady-bakuhoe.tumblr.com/post/620733945423740928/here-is-another-nsfw-collaboration-for-the-bnharem

Word Count: 4.3 k ish

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

The irony of the situation was not lost on you. It has been over a year since the mysterious disease that spread worldwide had first come around. There was no real name for this infection other than calling those who were infected ‘Vampires’ or ‘The Dead Ones’. There’s only one real way of being infected and that's to have one of the infected’s blood mix with your own in some way or another. They always show the same feature. Sharp teeth and claws, inhuman speed, strength and the most dangerous of them all, a never ending hunger for human blood. So strong that the ‘vampires’ become bloodthirsty and violent monsters who are more than willing to tear into the throats or limbs of their loved ones to quench an almost never ending need for the crimson liquid. Once infected there was no way of turning back. Mostly because you were, in fact dead as a doornail. You can’t reverse death.

When the disease first came around the only option was to kill them. Despite their strength and speed it wasn’t so hard. They were weak to the sun and always burned in a horrific way into ash. The smell of burning flesh was so strong around that time. Another way to kill them was to take off their heads. Which wasn’t as easy. They could heal their bodies quickly and if you miss it almost guaranteed your death by the monster.

Once they were changed they were no longer the one you loved or knew. Most aren’t even sure if they remember who they were before they were changed. They attack with no remorse. So they ended the same way.

Which is why you find your situation so.. Disheartening. You sat on the wooden crate staring at the dark haired man in front of you. Tamaki Amajiki was someone who you didn’t know well before this whole event happened. His anxiety was an ever flooding emotion that got in his way of making friends. He sat next to you in your animal science class and his shyness always made it difficult to start a conversation with the man. Despite this your heart would always flutter at the sound of his soft voice whenever he did speak. When he did speak his passion was conveyed in a way like no other. You could see it in his dark colored eyes. The sparkle in them when he talked about how he wanted to become a vet to help animals in need.

His kindness didn’t stop at animals though, he was also incredibly kind to people as well. More than willing to help others in need. Which is how you both ended up in this situation. Tamaki was chained to the brick wall. The gray metal shined dimly in the little candle light there was. You watched him softly as small whines of pain left his lips. You hated to see him this way.

While out gathering supplies you were attacked and Tamaki protected you. Unfortunately he was badly injured from it. You don’t know how but at some point the vampire must have bled onto Tamaki, because now he’s on the floor in front of you as one of the infected. You know that you’re supposed to get rid of them. To stop the spread of this, but over the year you have spent together you had fallen deeply in love with the timid dark haired man. You couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him. So instead you chained him up in the basement of a cabin that the two of you had found way out into the forest in the mountains away from the dangerous cities.

This was a stupid thing to do, this could get you killed but the fear of death didn’t scare you. Tamaki would never hurt you. He is far too kind and caring to do that. Not on purpose anyways.

When you first met him one year ago he was timid but had a kind heart that you found to be his best trait. Over the time that you had spent with him you learned more things about him. You learned he looked up to his best friend Mirio. You learned how hard Tamaki worked. You could see the passion in his eyes, you knew no matter how much anxiety he had that Tamaki would do his best no matter what.

You thought that he’d become a great vet. That was before everything went to hell. When this mysterious disease first appeared it spread fast and took down large cities, Like Tokyo, New York and Shanghai in only a matter of days. Law enforcement and medical workers were affected first since they came to the aid of those injured and infected. Without reinforcements and medical care many people died or were unprotected. The ‘vampires; were mindless and violent. No one was sure if they could even talk or communicate in any other way other than ungodly screaming. Like the hunger they suffered was so painful they could feel it in their very souls.. If they had one anymore that is. They attack any and all without prejudice. Blood covered the streets and the inside of homes. It was clear to most that leaving the city was the best option. If only it had been that easy.

You did what most people did and packed up your car to leave. You didn’t pack much, some clothes, pictures, food and water. You knew this would last a long time and packing light was your best option. It hurt to leave some of your things, to leave precious memories behind, but at this moment, survival was what was important. You didn’t have any family or much friends for that matter. Not anymore. All of the streets leading out of the city were packed with cars as far as you could see. It seems you weren’t the only one with common sense. After an hour night fell over the streets like a suffocating blanket, you felt uneasy. Nothing was moving.. Why weren’t the cars moving?

That's when you heard it. Screaming, it wasn’t just from one person. It was from many. Young and old, men and women. All their screams echoed down the packed streets. You panicked and slid into your back seat grabbing canned food, water, a shirt and pants into a backpack and slung it over your shoulder, there was no way in hell you were gonna sit here like a pig to the slaughter. You exited your car with a machete in hand and weaved and dodged around cars keeping low. How could you have been so stupid? You put yourself in a bad position. Surrounded by people in a place you couldn’t move, you needed to get out of here.

You didn’t want to die. Not yet, you wanted to do so much. You wanted to be so much. Though those plans are ruined now that you look back. You were disoriented by a scream. This scream wasn’t far away. In fact this scream was right behind you. You turned and saw it standing over the body of a young woman. You could hear her downing in her own blood as that thing tore into her throat with a god awful sound that you could never describe in a way that would truly express how horrid it was. No amount of horror movies could prepare you for a sound like that. One that made your stomach turn and your heart break. The glass of her car window laid on the ground, her hands gripping at it, like she was trying to look for some sort of weapon to protect herself. You could see the desperate fight in her eyes. One of someone, who wasn’t ready to die yet. Soon her body went limp. Her blood colored the street and her car like paint.

You slid behind a car and covered your mouth. You wanted to sob, scream or try to help her but you knew there was no helping her, she was gone. You steadied your breathing and looked around. Was that the only vampire here right now? Was there still hope of getting the fuck out of this situation? You couldn’t keep yourself still, you wanted to run. You wanted to get out of there. You didn’t want to be like her. Suddenly you felt something on your neck, something that both terrified you and sent your heart into despair. The smell of copper heavy on its rotting breath. You turned your head to see it staring at you with sharp golden eyes that practically glowed in the darkness that surrounds you.

It was mere inches from you, and yet your body wouldn’t move. Fear etched its way into your bones and muscles stiling you like a statue. Your eyes moved down to its fangs. It’s mouth twisted into some sort of sick grin as its clawed and disfigured hand reached out towards you. That's when the situation hit you. You need to fucking MOVE. NOW. It was like the cement in your bones disappeared as you bolted from your hiding place. You had never moved so fast in your life your legs and lungs burned as raced around cars and people.

Just as you thought you had gotten away you feel a sharp pain in your side and your legs turn to jelly under you. Your face hits the rough asphalt hard, bits of rock digging into your hands, knees and cheek. The matchette you once held thrown out of reach. You let out a whimper of pain. Not from the fall but the burning hot pain in your side. Like someone pushed hot steel through your skin. The taste of copper filled your mouth. A string of curses leaves your lips as you desperately try to crawl away. This wasn’t how you were going to die. Not by one of those things. You were NOT going to be an unsatisfying meal to one of those vampires.

You felt something grab your leg with sharp dagger like nails digging into your ankle. You kick at it with your other leg screaming as you desperately try to fight. ‘Is this karma?’ You thought. ‘ Am I being punished for standing by while others died in front of me?’ A sob wrecked through your body as you turned clawing at the ground trying to reach for your only weapon.

“L-LEAVE HER ALONE!” the familiar erupted through the night. It felt like everything was in slow motion as you turned to see the face of the timid man who used to sit next to you in your class and the now headless vampire who had your life in it’s hands.

Before you could even react to what had just happened you were wrapped into Tamaki’s arms and lifted up. Tamaki didn’t say a word. In fact he didn't even really look at you as he ran through the cars and into the grass that separated the road and the thick forest that leads to the mountains. His breathing was uneven and panicked as he bolted past the tree line and into the dark forest.

That was how the two of you ended up together in such a fucked up situation. The two of you wandered through the forest for days until the two of you found an abandoned cabin at the base of the mountains, the thickest part of what seemed like a never ending woodland. Your wounds weren’t too bad and with the little medical knowledge Tamaki had from class he was able to patch you up. As the weeks went by the two of you became closer.

The more you were with him the more you fell in love with him, and he also fell for you just as hard. On cold nights you’d sleep close to him with his arms wrapped around you. At the time. The small things you two did together made it seem like the world hasn’t fallen apart. Like Everything was okay.

But now. Your world was falling apart all over again. The one person you had, the last person you had in the fucked up world was now one of the vampires. The pain of this realization twisted in your chest. Being stabbed again would hurt less than to watch your love cry out and whimper on the floor, begging for something to eat. But you knew it wasn't food he wanted. Unfortunately the blood of animals didn’t work. Instead it only made him sick and hurt him more. You want to stop his pain. You want to ease his hunger. There was only one way to do that.

You pulled out a pocket knife from your jacket pocket. You pulled off your jacket and tossed it on the cold cement floor. Tamaki looked up at you from the floor, his reddened eyes scanning your form. “W- … What are you doing?” His vision is blurred from pain filled tears but he could clearly see the gleam of the pocket in the dim candle light. He knew exactly what you were going to do. He didn’t want that. Tamaki shifted from his laid down position and tried to move towards you. “S-Stop don’t do that!” The chains pull tightly, stopping him from moving closer.

“Tamaki.. You’re in so much pain. I just want to help you.” You look at him softly as you open the pocket knife and put the blade to your wrist. “I can give you some of my blood. Animal blood is only hurting you more, it makes you sick!”

Tamaki pulls at the metal confindments roughly. The thought of you hurting yourself for him made his chest burn in despair. This was his fault. He got infected and now you’re suffering for his mistakes. “I’m infected. I’m already sick. Don’t … Don’t hurt yourself for me, bunny” He looks at you with sadden eyes as he watches you intently. It made him feel sick that part of him wanted it, that he could smell your scent no matter how far away you were. A sickly sweet smell of burning sugar or incense. One that he craves to always have near him. It only made him hunger for your blood more. To be buried in your scent and devour you whole.

His heart sank as he saw beads of crimson blood slide down your perfect skin. You slowly make your way towards Tamaki with your arm outstretched. “Tamaki Please.” the crack in your voice spoke volumes about how you felt. This is your fault. You wanted to help him, he was in pain because you lost focus, because you didn’t check your surroundings. You had your head in the clouds and forgot what kind of world you live in now.

“Just drink it, Tama.” Tamaki looked away from you and moved back. “N-no. I can’t. I don't want this..” He swiftly turns away and leans his head on the wall behind him. He wraps his arms around himself like if he didn’t he’d fall apart right there. You wrap your arms around him and lean your head against his back. You felt his body tense under your arms. At this point it didn’t matter to you that he may be dangerous. This is Tamaki. A man you loved more than anything, whose kindness knew no boundaries. Nothing would change that, here he is, in an unbearable kind of pain you’d never understand. A never ending hunger you'll never feel, but he still refuses. He’s different. He isn’t like anyone else. He may be a ‘vampire’ now but he’s still the gentle man, with the same soft eyes and caring hands.

“I’m sorry, Tama. This is all my fault. You’re like this because of me.. I just wanted to help you.” Tamaki starts to shake a small groan escaping his lips. “I-I .. You need to move away from me...”

“No.” You rub your face into his shoulder, trying to fight off the tears. “I’m not going anywher-” your words are cut short by a sudden and swift movement from Tamaki pushing you into the freezing brick wall. You never saw Tamaki as being particularly big. He always slouched into himself making him seem much smaller than what he really was. But in this moment he loomed over you, his dark eyes almost shining red in the soft yellow light. You’d be lying if a small bit of fear didn’t grip you in its paralyzing claws.

Tamaki grabbed your hand, the blood from the cut you made earlier smeared across your arm and hand. His thumb moved carefully over the red and raised skin. He never breaks his gaze from your arm as he brings it closer to his trembling lips. Tamaki didn’t want this. He needed this. Overwhelming guilt flooded him as his pale lips pressed against the fresh cut. He couldn’t hold back any longer, the smell of copper and your overstimulating scent made his head spin.

You bring your other arm up and run your fingers gently through his indigo locks. Your face twists slightly with pain as Tamaki’s tongue runs across your self made injury. The crimson honey sliding along this tongue and down throat. It was almost intoxicating, it was addicting. He wanted more. The normally reserved man pressed into you his grip on your arm tightens as he locks his lips around the source of his pleasure. He slides his knee in between your legs, a soft groan radiating from deep in this throat.

“Tama-.. ki?” A heat rushes to your cheeks as soon as you see the look in his eyes. Not the same look he used to have. He has a much darker expression now as his lips release from your wrist and he pressed his forehead to yours. The smell of the rouge liquid heavy on his breath as he leans in closer to your lips. His hands move down to your hips and pulled you flush against his growing bludge. You gasp slightly as his lips lock with yours in a needy and sloppy kiss.

Tamaki bites your bottom lip asking for entrance that you gladly gave him. He slid his tongue into your mouth and the taste of your own blood filled your mouth. There were so many things running through your head at the moment. Should you even be doing this? Was this okay?

You grab onto Tamaki’s shirt to tug him closer to you. The heat of the kiss was leaving you breathless, your mind was reeling from lack of air and the pang of need that radiated from in between your legs. You’ve never done something like this with Tamaki. You’ve never really kissed him before, because he’s always become far too nervous and would hide away. Now here he is taking your breath away in a way you never thought he could. Or would do.

The way Tamaki’s scorching hot tongue explored your mouth made your heart feel like it was going to explode. You wanted to melt into his arms and stay like this for ever. But the moment was cut short when Tamaki pulled away heavily panting, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You almost forgot you hadn’t been breathing, “Tama..”

“I want more..” His lips brush across your neck making your heart leap into your throat. A small whine forms at the back of his throat as he nips gently at your neck. His hands slip under your shirt as he kisses and sucks on your neck leaving small hickies as he works his way to your collarbone.

“I… I want more of you” Tamaki lets out a shaky breath as his fingers make their way to your unprotected plush breasts. You let out a sigh as he pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor. The cold air of the stale room brushed over your now exposed skin. His sharp eyes trace over every line and curse of your body committing it to memory. A red blush dusted across his face and to his pointed ears as he looks up towards your equally flustered expression.

He looks back towards your breasts cupping one into his hand and taking your sensitive bud into his searing mouth. His sharp fangs drags gently over your skin as he sucks and licks your nipple. His fingertips run gently over your sides causing you to moan his name softly. The sound of your voice only makes his erection that much more unbearable for him. He bites down softly and a small sharp pain fills your breast. The metallic taste of blood ran over his tongue once more as he runs it across the newly made mark. A twinge of guilt setting in this stomach at the small whimper that radiates from your throat. He pulls away slightly, only to have your fingers run through his long soft locks.

“Tamaki.. Do whatever you want with me, I’m yours..” You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his lips, that quickly turns heated once again as his worry and guilt dissipates and is replaced with lust. His hand slides over your bare soft stomach towards the hem of your pants. He quickly unbuttons them and slides his fingers into your panties brushing his fingers against your silky wet folds.

A shiver runs up your spin as you feel Tamaki’s warm breath against your throat. “You're so wet and warm..” his words dance across your skin as he nips at your pulse point gently. A low grow reverberates from his chest as he slowly rubs circles with his calloused finger over your engorged clit. Your delicate hands quickly cling on to Tamaki’s shirt. A needy moan fills the room. You hips moved on their own begging for more stimulation against his hand. You almost felt embarrassed grinding against his finger like a bitch in heat, but you’ve wanted this for so long. You want Tamaki. You didn’t care about anything else at this moment.

“You’re so pretty like this.. You’re so beautiful. “ Tamaki begins to rub against your greedy clit faster. “Cum for me, bunny. Please” His lips latch into your collarbone kissing and suck eagerly leaving his mark. Your cries of pleasure become stuck in your throat and all you can let out are choked out whines and praise as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten rapidly. You pussy empty pussy clenching around nothing. You wanted him so badly. The feeling of euphoria washes over your quacking body as your orgasm washes over you. You bury your face into Tamaki unable to hold yourself up anymore as his fingers continue their assault against your now overstimulated clit.

“Tamaki, Please. I want you so bad.” With your words Tamaki helped you pull off your remaining clothes. He unbuckles his pants and pulls his cock out. It was much thicker than you thought it would be. A small bit of panic runs through you as you begin to wonder if that would fit in you. You push the thoughts to the side as you run your fingers over his hot shaft. He pushes you back into the wall pulling you around his hips, his hands cup around your ass holding you up. The cold metal of his chains press into your skin causing a chill to run through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck looking for any kind of support. The feeling of his precum covered tip running over your entrance set your body on fire.

His names fell from your lips to implore him to take you. To finally make you, his. His sensitive tip presses into your cut without much resistance, inch by inch his member stretches your wall. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass as he bottoms out inside you. A loud moan rips through his throat as the taut ring of your entrance squeezes around him.

Before you could become used to the size of him inside you his hips began to move. Your legs wrap securely around his lower back as you cry his name with each needy thrust. His thrusts are irregular and fast slamming into you without thought. His lips find yours in a passionate and burning kiss. His moans fill your mouth as his hips snap into yours. The feeling of his cock rubbing against your tight walls made your head spin. You hadn’t noticed the look in his eyes as he kissed your jaw and down towards your throat once again.

A scorching pain fills your body as Tamaki’s fangs skin into the soft skin of your neck. A small string of sorrys leaves him as he laps up the small river of crimson honey. He sucks your blood desperately as his pace picks up and becomes much harder. The pain in your neck and pussy sends you over the edge again as your body is once again hit with another orgasm. Your nails dig into Tamaki’s shoulder as you press your head into the stone wall.

The head of his cock kisses the entrance of your cervix and his sloppy movements become slower. You could feel his cock twitch inside you. A loud groan radiates from the back of his throat as his cock spits ropes of cum into your pussy, filling you up. A hiss of release bruisers across your neck as he kisses the bite mark on your neck in apology.

“I’m sorry… Did I-I hurt you?” he slowly lets you down as his knees finally buckle underneath him. He wraps his sinewy arms around your waist and lays his head in your shoulder. Taking in your sweet scent. You shake your head and run your hands down his back.

“No.. You didn’t” The two of you stay like that on the floor for a while. You didn’t mind this.. You didn’t mind that he was no longer human. If this was the life you were meant to have them so be it. You’ll gladly go into the dark with him. Tamaki is different from the rest. You love him and he loves you.

#bnharem collab #bnharem #tamaki amakiji #tamaki amajiki x reader #bnha #n-s-f-w #apocalypse AU #amajiki #amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki #knifeewifee art #knifeewifee fic

647 notes · View notes

accioxreparo · 4 years

Text

memorias | g.w.

synopsis: You finally work up the courage to go back home for día de muertos after nearly twelve years for a trip you find that both you and George needed.

pairing: George Weasley x hispanic!reader

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of the wizarding war(s), a bit of grieving

a/n: I know, I’m bad at time management but I loved this idea too much to not post it. I know it says hispanic reader but please don’t feel like you need to be one to give this a read!

Also I’m a native spanish speaker so if you google translate the spanish it might not make too much sense so I’ve put the spanish phrases in italics and the translations will be right after [bolded and in brackets like this] just to make it a little easier to read.

I’m curious to know what you guys think about this one so feel free to hit me up with your thoughts/questions if you’d like!

The soft golds and warm reds that met every single place your eyes landed on brought back an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sugar and smoke mixed together in the air like nothing else did and it was like you were seeing yourself as a child all over again. Memories floated around in your brain. Ones that were happy. Ones you knew didn’t deserve the treatment you’d been giving them recently.

“Can you tell me about these?”

The sound of George’s voice interrupted your thoughts. He was drifting towards one side of the uneven cobblestone street crowded with people and lined with booths. You couldn’t help but stare at the soft, excited smile on his face as he looked all around him. He was curious and it was a look on him you’d never get enough of.

With a smile on your face you held his hand tighter and pulled him in the direction of a booth covered in little wooden animals painted in every bright color you could imagine. You picked one up and set it in the palm of your hand, grinning in amusement when George touched the top of its head just to see it bob up and down again.

“It’s an alebrije,” You told him, setting down the little figure. Almost immediately he picked up another to examine it more closely. “It’s mostly just art. Tomorrow especially, though, they decorate almost every ofrenda since kids tend to love them.”

George nodded, hanging on every word you told him just as he had been for the last two days. It had been that long since the two of you had arrived at your mother’s house. It was only that long that you stayed and now you were headed off to the place you really wanted to visit.

“Tomorrow’s the first day, right?” George had to resist the urge to pick up every single little creature he saw and hand over a pile of colored bills. Instead he let you pull him away again, his attention being caught by all the buildings surrounding him.

“Yeah. Everything has to be prepared by nightfall to greet the spirits of children on the first of November.” You nodded and stared down at the stones underneath your feet, kicking a few across the street as you walked. George immediately noticed your silence but before he could say anything you spoke again, looking up at him with a newfound smile on your face. “Have I ever told you about my Tia Valeria?”

“Once or twice,” He laughed a bit, recalling the countless stories you’d told him before already. He dropped your hand just long enough to be able to throw an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him as you walked. “Tell me more.”

“We’re going to see her now actually,” When he looked at you shocked you only grinned. “She’s the one who took me in after I started at Ilvermorny. My mom wasn’t too into the whole magic thing after -”

You stopped again and George knew exactly why. It was the same reason you’d avoided being home for years now. It had been twelve years now since you’d been back and it had taken a lot of convincing along with an argument or two to get you here. He didn’t fail to notice the way you plastered another smile onto your face, pushing the topic to the back of your mind.

“Anyway places like these are called pueblos mágicos [magical towns] by the muggle government. See how every place here is a different color?” You watched as George looked around again, waiting until his attention drifted back to continue. “It’s to symbolize the town’s culture. For some places it’s the history it has, others it's the traditions that have been in place for as long as anyone can remember, and for some it's just the natural beauty they have. They’re called magic because of those reasons. There’s 121 right now all over Mexico but there’s something muggles don’t know about them.”

“What’s that?” George asked before you could say another word. When he caught you holding back a laugh he rolled his eyes playfully before leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Come see for yourself,” You turned down a seemingly normal street until you came to a steep grey staircase that looked like it was built right into the rising hillside.

But you didn’t go up the staircase. Instead you moved to the right side and placed a hand on a statue that sat on the very bottom step. Once again George focused only on your movements as you dropped his hand and traced a swirling pattern on the back of the statue, mumbling a quiet revelio.

There wasn’t a single thing you did that didn’t amaze him and this wasn’t any different. He watched as the stone stairs shifted, morphing into an archway before his own eyes revealing a whole separate part of the town that looked even more alive than the one they’d just snuck to the outskirts of.

“Almost all of them are hiding actual magical communities.” You smiled as you stepped into the shimmering archway, turning around to find George more astonished than ever before. “Well c’mon.”

George had been in awe of everything you’d shown him so far. The view of the sun setting from the peak of the little town your mother lived in. The carefully crafted decorations that hung all over. The sea of colors that blended perfectly together everywhere he looked. The way you lit up with excitement every time he asked you to tell him more about the things and places you grew up around.

This place was different though. It was so much like the places he’d visited as a kid but at the same time it was in a league of its own. There were kids running around and potions shops and small evidence of magic everywhere. But there were also items he didn’t recognize in shop windows and spells being said he hadn’t heard before. He wasn’t too sure he’d ever seen anything like it at all.

“She’s waiting for us,” You said after glancing at the pocket watch that hung on a chain on your own bag. “Trust me, we don’t want to be late.”

George didn’t move though. Instead he bit his lip momentarily before fidgeting a bit and holding on tighter to you. “I’m nervous.”

“You’re nervous? Really?” You couldn’t help but smile as you moved back in his direction.

“Don’t laugh,” As he said the words, though, he let out a laugh of his own. “Fred and I must’ve read practically all her books when we were trying to work out some of the products for the shop. It’s a little intimidating meeting somebody who has their own chocolate frog card.”

“But your own brother has one?”

“He doesn’t count,” George shook his head and gave in and started walking beside you again. He didn’t take in everything just yet, though. “Honestly, do you think she’ll like me?”

You nodded without hesitation. “I know she will.”

It took an extra hour but finally you and George had managed to weave your way through the countless streets until you reached the main square, only stopping to buy little trinkets twice.

The door you walked up to led to a shop that had papel picado decorating the outside of the windows. It wasn’t like the ones you’d seen earlier though. These had little figures dancing across the colored paper, almost looking like they were laughing.

You smiled at the sight of them, memories of helping your aunt make and enchant them flashing through your mind. George’s eyes followed the little figures across the paper and he laughed at the sight of them, “You said she makes them herself right?”

“More than just a world renowned alchemist,” You smirked a bit as you walked into the shop with ease despite the closed sign on the door. “Though I guarantee she’s still going to yell at us for being late so get ready for that.”

It was like it was planned. The moment the words left your mouth was the moment your tias voice rang from the back of the shop. George chuckled at the way you winced and started trudging towards the source.

“Que hora es esta de llegar? Ya pasan de las seis, te dije que llegaras antes de las tres!”

[”What time do you think it is? It’s passed six and I told you to get here before three!”]

“I know, I know,” You sighed as you stepped into the backyard the shop led into. It was covered in plants of all sorts, both magical and non magical. No less than three crups ran back and forth all over the place, the biggest of which barked loudly and ran for you. “Es que este quería ver las ofrendas que pusieron en el pueblo alla afuera. Como le puedia dicer no, iralo, que lindo.”

[“Well this one wanted to see the ofrendas they put up all around the town. How was I supposed to say no, look how cute he is!”]

“Quien -” [“Who -”] She looked up suddenly, forgetting for a moment that you were bringing somebody with you. Almost immediately she sighed and she put down the large steel cauldron she’d been burning some leaves in. “Of course!”

“Tia this is -”

“Don’t bother, mija, I know exactly who he is already,” She walked over and stood beside you, staring at George as if sizing him up despite the fact that she was at least a foot shorter. He couldn’t help but feel as if she was looking into the very depths of his mind and honestly given what he knew about her he wouldn’t be surprised if she was. “Es el marido.” [“He’s the husband.”]

“Novio, tia,” [“Boyfriend, tia,”] You tried to fight the blush that crept up your face as you shook your head quickly. “We’re not quite there yet.”

“Y porque no?” [“And why not?”]

You changed the subject quickly, shooting around to face George again. He could tell you wanted to change the topic but frankly he was curious about the bits and pieces of the conversation he was able to pick up. “George meet -”

“Call me Valeria,” Your aunt immediately waved you off, shooting a momentary glare in your direction, silently telling you the conversation was one you’d be forced to continue later. “Believe me, I’ve heard so much about you, mijo, we hardly need an introduction.”

“Thanks for letting me come visit,” The quickness with which he went from feeling a little nervous to completely at ease surprised him. It felt shockingly similar to being at his own home and he loved it immediately.

“Por supuesto,” [“Of course,”] She shook her head with a smile that faltered for only a second, so fast that he almost didn’t notice it. “I think we all needed this after the year we’ve had.”

“So um,” You gulped a bit at the overwhelming sound of silence that felt much too loud. More memories flashed through your head. This time it was everything you had dealt with during the war. Things you shouldn’t have had to face but ones you did anyway without hesitation. The fights and the training and the dueling and the teaching.

It was all the reason you had gone to England in the first place. What had started off as an assignment turned into something you couldn’t have possibly imagined. Funny enough you didn’t regret parts of it at all.

“Where do we start?”

George had rarely been anxious before in his life. He didn’t like the feeling. Not at all. But as he stared down at all the things he’d brought with him with your assurance that they would do, he found himself slowly pushing the feeling away.

It was especially comforting to feel your presence right next to him despite the fact that you were as anxious as he was. It was your first time celebrating dia de muertos in twelve years. He knew all about your own struggles with accepting what had happened during the first wizarding war all those years ago.

It was then that your father had died in a duel not a couple days before the first defeat. When you were old enough to understand you’d decided immediately you would follow in his footsteps. It was the cause of the rift that had grown between you and your mother, the same one that pushed you and your aunt closer than ever before.

She was the one to support you when you decided to attend Ilvermorny over Castelobruxo. She was the one who had told you stories of your father. She was the one who had seen you off when you left for England and never once judged you for not being able to handle the overwhelming emotions and memories that flooded your mind at the beginning of every November.

And she was the one who stood with you now, helping to prepare the ofrenda that would soon hold pieces of memories you'd been ignoring for twelve years.

“Three levels,” Your voice was soft and a little hoarse as you took George’s hand in yours, each of you feeding off of the feeling of each other. “They represent the underworld, the earth, and the sky.”

You moved to hand George various pieces of papel picado before picking up the purple tablecloth and the white lace for yourself. “Hang these along the edges and above.”

He could easily recall the explanations you’d given him as the two of you had bought the rest of your necessary items earlier. George looked between you and your aunt for a moment before gently touching the tip of his wand to each piece, watching as the little figures came to life right before his eyes. “The wind right?”

“When they blow in the wind it means our difuntos [deceased] have arrived,” Valeria offered him a smile that didn’t quite look completely there before handing him the orange marigolds he’d seen everywhere the last few days. “The charm to get the petals off the cempazúchitl is simple. Scatter the petals up all the way from the front doorway to the foot of the ofrenda.”

George stared at the marigolds in his hands for a few moments, frozen in place. The color was bold and loud and reminded him too much of his brother. There was a bouquet of them sitting on the kitchen table at the Burrow and they were the exact same kind of flower he had left in front of Fred’s grave just a few days before alongside you.

You had told him the meaning of them then and your words echoed through his head now. They’ll help guide him home.

When he came back you’d finished setting up the bottom level with your Tia Valeria finished the highest level. You walked over to him the second he entered the room, wiping the ashes off of your hands before reaching up and setting a hand on his cheek.

George hadn’t realized there were a few tears in his eyes until you gently wiped them away. It was silently that you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips and almost immediately he sighed.

“Are you ready?” You nodded behind you and when he looked he could see your aunt digging out several pictures from a cabinet on the other side of the room. “This is the most important part.”

It took George a few moments before he nodded, eying the bag he’d left in the living room carefully. “I’m ready.”

First came several mismatched cups and two large pitchers of water. Each cup was poured to the top and the pitchers were refilled before they too were set on the middle level. Next was the bread you’d picked up from a bakery, pan de muerto, along with the sugar skulls.

Valeria put down a variety of sweets, ones she said your grandfather, uncles, and various other family members loved. You placed a few bars of a bittersweet chocolate you’d picked up at a store in the muggle part of the plaza earlier on the table. The same ones you could vaguely remember your dad always having stocked in his pockets. George put down a couple chocolate frogs and a box of Every Flavor Beans, the bad ones already picked out.

The three of you laughed together as you put a couple different bottles of alcohol, both magical and non magical, down next. A bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey brought back more than a few bittersweet memories of Order meetings at 12 Grimmauld Place.

Then it was time for the pictures. One by one photos of family members who had passed were set on the ofrenda. Your grandfather and one of his brothers who had both fought against Grindelwald years ago. Several aunts, uncles, and cousins alike. Your father who’d been a casualty of the first wizarding war.

George held on to the picture of Fred for a second, not daring to look at it just yet. You couldn’t bring yourself to either, you’d been close to both of them after all.

“Let me tell you something my brother, your father, told me when our papa died,” Valeria walked over and took the picture out of George’s hands. It was clear where you got your personality from because she placed one hand on top of your intertwined ones.

The two of you watched as she looked at the picture, smiled, then moved towards the ofrenda.

“Hay que vivir sonriendo para morir contentos,” She set the picture in the very middle right next to the chocolate frogs, a handful of ton-tongue toffees, and a faux wand. “You have to live smiling to die happy. What do you think your brother would say if he was here now?”

George suddenly let out a loud laugh and looked at you, both of you thinking the same thing. “Reckon he’d tell us to snap out of it.”

“Then snap out of it,” Valeria took out her wand and placed it at George’s temple first. “Think of your happiest memory of him.”

George closed his eyes and thought his hardest for the perfect one. When he found it he let out a shaky exhale and nodded. His eyes opened just in time to see a blue whisp at the end of the wand being placed into a vial.

Valeria repeated the same process with you, telling you to think of your dad. Then she took the vials and set them down on the ofrenda. “Memorias, memories, to remind them of how much we love them.” She then motioned towards the single bottle of firewhiskey that was left on the counter and grinned at the two of you.

“Vengan, [Come on,] that bottle isn’t going to drink itself.”

Three days later both you and George felt more at ease than you had in awhile. The celebrations had come and gone and you’d cried a bit, sure, but also laughed and took part in every celebration going on both in the magical part of town and the muggle part.

You’d even gone to visit your father’s grave for the first time since you were just five years old. The strange feeling of being at peace was one you weren’t expecting. One you weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.

But there you were sitting in the middle of your Tia Valeria’s backyard in the dark watching the fireworks dance across the sky for the third night in a row.

“Did I ever say thank you?” George asked from where his head was laying in your lap as your hands ran through his hair. He was focused only on you and chuckled a little when you grew genuinely surprised.

You shook your head, hair falling in front of your face as you looked at him. “For what, mi amor?”

He couldn’t help but grin at the name, now knowing fully well what it meant, and reached for you. “For making it easier. For being there for me when I really didn’t think I could get through it.”

A soft look of complete understanding and affection spread across your face as you took his hand. “You did the same for me, you know.”

“Guess we really did need this then, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, kissing the palm of his hand before letting your head fall onto it. “We did.”

“Any chance we can come back soon?” George laughed again and looked up at the sky, his view a combination of you, the fireworks, and the dozens of the little wooden alebrijes he’d finally given in and bought flying all around. “I quite like it here.”

“Any time you want, mi amor.”

#is this self indulgent? maybe but i like it #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #poc reader #poc!reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #george weasley imagine #hp fanfic #hp fic #hp imagine #harry potter #hp #hp series

168 notes · View notes

tossawary · 3 years

Text

Chapter 25: “Home Sweet Home” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Anyway, Shang Qinghua makes himself so fucking sincerely annoying that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators can’t figure out how to politely tell him to fuck off fast enough. Shang Qinghua makes outlandish assumptions about how many thieves there are (at least a dozen, he’s sure, probably twice that) and what methods they might be using (special invisibility talismans, he suspects); Shang Qinghua repeatedly apologizes for being too busy with important things for Cultivator O.B.B. at the last Immortal Alliance Conference, then tries to commiserate with the man about having to get important things done without getting any respect for it; Shang Qinghua also anxiously wonders if they should all go to Zhao Hua Temple Sect to report what happened here, since there’s a troublesome demon and also some sneaky rogue cultivator thieves on the loose out here! He gets turned down immediately, but assures everyone that he’ll at least let Yue Qingyuan know everything that happened here right away!

Liu Qingge pretty much just stands there scowling silently the entire time - he’s no Shen Qingqiu for sheer menacing "I can and I will ruin your entire life" glares, but he’s still pretty intimidating. He does a great job! No notes!

Shang Qinghua nearly pats himself on the back as he and Liu Qingge leave less than an hour after he arrives. “Holy shit, I’m good,” he thinks, a little giddy with the successful extraction. “That’s a skill that good ol’ Liu-Shidi will never have!”

AN: Of course this has a high chance of backfiring. Is Shang Qinghua going to weave webs of lies anyway? Of course.

Love the fact that Shang Qinghua can shamelessly act like a total pushover, while actually manipulating someone so that he gets the results he wanted. Some snobby sect leader walks into a negotiation room, prepared to use SQH as a doormat, and Shang Qinghua is probably internally like, “Bro, me and my jelly spine welcome you to hell.”

He gives them the rundown on what happened, but, to his complete lack of surprise, that doesn’t seem to satisfy interrogators like his little sister-in-law and his fellow transmigrator. They have so many questions! And Shang Qinghua doesn’t have enough answers for them!

No, he doesn’t know what Huan Hua Palace Sect knows or thinks they know. No, he doesn’t know how they knew about that place. No, he doesn’t know whether the monster was just a local opportunist preying on distracted cultivators or something more sinister. No, he’s not experimenting with the creepy special item or discussing it at length here. No, Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber are not allowed to poke at the creepy special item!

Why the fuck would he ever let them do that?!

All Shang Qinghua knows is that Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber should eat their vegetables and then go to bed! Because they all have a long journey back to the sect in the morning! And also that words cannot describe how painfully old he feels as soon as he says this.

AN: I’ve been thinking about a Demon Trio fanfic in which Mobei-Jun finds himself in a similar position with Luo Binghe and Sha Hualing.

Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are, like, bare minimum twice the age of Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan. Like, yes, neither Mobei-Jun nor Shang Qinghua are old old by the standard of the PIDW world. Yes, MBJ and SQH are stunted as all get out. But the fact that they have bare minimum 2x the life experience as Bingqiu is, in my opinion, funny as hell and severely underused in fanfiction.

Like, imagine Mobei-Jun unintentionally dadding new demon LBH in SVSSS. Mobei-Jun being like, “Don’t eat the meat from this monster. It makes you hallucinate.” Or being like, “These people aren’t politically important enough to be shown this kind of respect. Look down on them properly and go sleep, or no one will ever respect you again in demon politics.”

MBJ looking at SVSSS LBH and SHL like, “Damn, who raised you?”

Because, like, I love to joke about Mobei-Jun being an oblivious fool, but that’s in regards to human culture. Mobei-Jun operating on demonic culture + his level of arrogance in regards to how he’s handling SQH suggests that MBJ can be politically savvy among demons when he wants to be. Also, the mental picture of MBJ being like, “Eat your weird demon vegetables, there’s nothing wrong with them, you picky half-breed brat,” is extremely funny.

I’ll probably turn this into a separate post.

Shang Qinghua does not miss the man’s unconcealed “oh, great, some of my favorite problem people are back, probably with bad news” expression when they arrive. The man is not at all impressed to hear about the drugged-up Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders or the evil, murderous, madness-inducing plant they fought on their mission, but the Qian Cao Peak Lord is reluctantly, partially placated by the jar of three-eyed skeleton tears Shang Qinghua super thoughtfully brought back for his inspection. Mu Qingfang really likes his research projects!

Shang Qinghua lets himself feel kind of good about this gift - he’s the man who gets things and gets things done - and ignores the Weeper’s Eye whispering in his head, “He has resigned himself to the untimely deaths of everyone he knows.”

(Wow. Oh, Shang Qinghua knows that feeling!)

AN: Mu Qingfang doesn’t think that everyone around him is inevitably going to die, he’s just extremely aware of how dangerous the world is and how reckless cultivators can be. Also, for many years, he was fairly certain that Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu were headed for bad ends.

This felt like a good place to insert some optimism back into the sect in general. Luo Fanli has been cured and is willingly going to visit her sister, Liu Qingge has got a hold on his self-destructive tendencies, Mu Qingfang thinks things are getting better, Shen Qingqiu’s health problems have been essentially fixed, Qijiu might actually work their shit out, Shen Yuan shares his real name with Shang Qinghua, and so on and so forth.

It felt like a good contrast with and buildup towards Luo Binghe’s Skinner mistake (not everything is rosy yet, there are still growing problems), the secret basement, and the encounter with Bing-Ge.

Only to flip that around and then bring some surprise Moshang into things!

“I have now been informed that, after learning that you had returned and, at the very least, completing the duties that were intended to have him reflect on his actions, he has disappeared yet again,” Shen Qingqiu continues. “This second disappearance has set some of the other junior disciples into a renewed panic, which has concerned some of the senior disciples, which was, apparently, cause to alert me.”

“Ah,” Shang Qinghua says.

AN: Shen Jiu should not be in charge of a bunch of children, but it is funny to imagine him going through the same “be a less shit person” adoption process as Shang Qinghua. Like, oh, it would be so easy for him to be cruel about this situation, but fuck you if he’s going to be outdone in the recovery and redemption process by Shang Qinghua of all people.

Shang Qinghua: *grows into a kind of decent person*

Shen Jiu: “Fuck you. That’s not allowed.”

Shen Jiu: “...”

Shen Jiu: “Well, if THAT FUCKER of all people can do it...”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t have to look long or far to find his nephew. He finds the young protagonist sitting despondently on the doorstep of his own Leisure House, sniffling into his sleeve. Peerless Cucumber of all people is sitting beside him and keeping him company.

“Focusing on other people’s lives is easier than looking at his own.”

“-think a drowning man first has to save himself… or else he’s only going to bring down the people he’s trying to save,” Peerless Cucumber is saying.

Binghe nods.

AN: Going by, like, the everything of SVSSS, Shen Yuan really is the asshole going, “I’ll die before I look inwards to recognize and deal with my own emotions.” Also, going, “Yes, I’m a hypocrite who won’t take my own advice. And what about it?” What a repressed nerd.

Shang Qinghua clears his throat to get their attention. Both kids (well, teenager and young adult, but still... kids) look up and then stand up quickly. Luo Binghe takes a forgetful step forward, before he wobbles into an appropriate respectful bow instead.

“Shang-Shishu!”

“How dearly this boy is loved!” the Weeper’s Eye declares, in its soft way inside Shang Qinghua’s head. “More than life itself! More than death itself!”

“Ah, never mind all that,” Shang Qinghua says, and steps forward to wrap his nephew in a quick hug instead, keeping the creepy talking eye oriented away from his nephew. “You’re a little too late to talk to me about your mission before your shizun did.”

Binghe, who was just relaxing into the unexpected hug, freezes.

Shang Qinghua knowingly pats the poor young protagonist on the back.

“Oh, shit” is right!

AN: Uncle Shang really is adorable. Still kind of knocks me for a loop writing it, though, given that the SVSSS SQH and LBH relationship is... nothing like this whatsoever. Look upon the field of SQH and LBH content and see that it is relatively barren except for the stubborn motherfuckers with excellent taste in character exploration.

“Ahhh, well, I’ll be there too for this potential family reunion, bro,” Shang Qinghua assures him. “Maybe we can finally get to the bottom of where this ‘Shen Yuan’ name came from.”

Peerless Cucumber makes a strange expression.

“What?”

“...It’s my name.”

“What?” Shang Qinghua repeats.

“It’s my name,” Peerless Cucumber says again, quietly. “It’s my real name.”

“Oh.”

“Huh,” Shang Qinghua thinks, having been operating on the assumption that the System made the name up for its mysterious backstory. Well, that gives new dimensions to Peerless Cucumber’s criticism of the scum villain!

“You can use it,” Peerless Cucumber says, with an air of determined nonchalance. “Everyone else is doing it.”

“Ah, alright. Thanks.”

AN: This is probably the part where I would have made Shang Qinghua reveal his original name in turn... IF HE HAD ONE. It drives me... kind of wild that we get the Airplane Extras and we STILL don’t get 1) Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky’s original name, and 2) MOBEI-JUN’s name.

Which actually makes things a little more interesting here, in my opinion, even though not having those names gets a little frustrating in terms of fanfiction writing. With Mobei-Jun, you get to explore the fucked up possibilities of him not having a name outside of his identity as the future Northern King. With Shang Qinghua, you get to explore him being a squirrelly little fuck who refuses to let anyone into his life.

So, because we don’t have Airplane’s name, we actually get this mildly interesting dynamic in which Shang Qinghua doesn’t even really think to reveal it to Shen Yuan. We don’t see this part, but Shen Yuan is actually a little miffed by this degree of secrecy, which is going to come up later. (Shen Yuan doesn’t like the fact that Shang Qinghua has as much power over him as he does.)

I personally do not hold the headcanon that Airplane’s name was “Shang Qinghua”. It’s a little too on the nose for me. At that point, the only reaction to transmigrating into SQH kind of has to be, “Ah, well, I was asking for that!” Maybe Airplane projected his worst qualities onto Shang Qinghua, but I don’t think he went so far as to give the character his own name.

Airplane’s main identity when he died appears to have been Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky, and we know that he wasn’t particularly close to his divorced parents and any step- or half-siblings. So, the only names that are really relevant post-transmigration are “Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky” and “Shang Qinghua”. By the time that SY gets here, he’s firmly entrenched in those identities, and his original name is completely irrelevant. I could honestly believe that Airplane just doesn’t think it matters anymore.

Shang Qinghua’s nephew, in the way of a true young protagonist or fucking cannon fodder, got the bright fucking idea to slip away to speak with the concubine called Butterfly privately.

“I thought: what if she didn’t want to speak in front of that lecherous old man? What if she wanted to get away from him?” Binghe confesses.

“She was the demon,” Shang Qinghua guesses.

Binghe nods, voice breaking. “It was… I was really, really stupid, Uncle.”

“Well, at least you know that,” Shang Qinghua sighs, and pats his sniffly nephew on the back again.

Oh, he can see why Shen Qingqiu was pissed the fuck off now. Shang Qinghua kind of wants to start yelling! Or maybe just screaming, coherently or otherwise!

Except yelling isn’t going to help much right now.

Shang Qinghua listens as Luo Binghe recounts being captured by the demon and then waking up bound by Immortal Binding Cables - of being so terrified that he could barely breathe with it. His only hope was Ning Yingying and Ming Fan tattling on his disappearance and a senior disciple tracking him down on time. The skinner demon apparently nearly killed Binghe, crooning over his young and beautiful skin, except a flash of warm light intervened and dropped an unstable part of the ceiling in on them before they could hurt the captured protagonist.

“Fu-Shijie and Shizun arrived after that and k-killed it,” Binghe says. “Uncle, it was all stupid luck! Shizun said I should have been dead and that, between my efforts and the demon’s, he had no idea how I wasn't! And he was right! It was so close! If the ceiling hadn’t fallen in like that-! Fu-Shijie suggested the ropes might be faulty and it could have been an unconscious use of spiritual energy, but I didn’t do anything! It wasn’t me!”

It sounds like the System to Shang Qinghua, intervening again at a crucial moment to prevent the premature death of the protagonist. Just thinking about how close his nephew came to dying without him knowing is nearly enough to inspire a cold sweat! Shang Qinghua can’t speak about the System, so all he can really do is keep hugging! Keep holding on for dear life and saying soothing nothings to his crying nephew!

AN: I wanted to include the Skinner mission, but I didn’t want to redo it onscreen because that’s been done in many fanfictions before and I felt that there was really no good reason for Shang Qinghua to be a part of it. The reason I wanted to include it is to show how the plot is off the track of the SVSSS (and PIDW) stories, with the changed LBH and the changed Original SQQ.

LBH wants to be a hero, but he’s not there yet.

“...Don’t put yourself above him… or below him. Tell him what you want and listen to what he wants, and don’t be surprised if things don’t change all at once,” Shang Qinghua advises and, at Yue Qingyuan’s look, quickly raises his hands. “Ahhh, not my business, I know! Not my business! I just… I hope it works out! I hope you two get something better out of this mess! Aha, make the sect meetings a little less awkward and… things.”

“He has never known what better looks like. He will always be Yue Qi, the slave boy. No matter what he does.”

“...Thank you,” Yue Qingyuan says finally, thoughtfully. “I appreciate your… restraint in this matter… in recent months.”

Aha, yikes.

AN: I know that some people wanted more stomping on Yue Qingyuan, but... like... this man is as or nearly as traumatized as Shen Qingqiu. His childhood fucking sucked. He broke his own soul trying to save Shen Jiu and failed. He made some shit decisions where Shen Qingqiu was concerned, but the logic and trauma he’s operating on are pretty obvious. He was trying.

Part of the theme around the Qijiu and Moshang arcs has also been “an eye for an eye”. Like, are you guys really going to keep on not communicating with each other and then fucking up and then taking chunks out of each other? How many misunderstandings and upset over misunderstandings are you going to throw at each other? Where do you put your foot down and say, “I don’t want to live like this forever. We can be better than this. I want better than this.”

Like, it can’t just be hurting each other back and forth (this applies to Qijiu more than Moshang, in which MBJ definitely carries the weight of this fuck-up). It can’t just be privately nursing hurt feelings forever. The options here are “fix it” or “live like this forever”. Fixing it won’t happen immediately, but the other option fucking sucks, so every little step helps.

So Shang Qinghua here is just like, “Bro, I’m tired. My anger has cooled a lot. I just want all our lives to suck less. I hope things work out for you.”

#tossawary svsss #tossawary commentary #pride is not the word

51 notes · View notes

julek · 3 years

Note

Hi! Since you’ve been reading a lot of modern AUs lately, do you have any favorites? There’s so many to choose from on your call for fic rec posts that it’s overwhelming 😅

HI!!! i’m so sorry it took me ages to get to this, but i wanted to compile absolutely everything (with proper links and stuff), so. anyway, here! some of my absolute favorites from the past few weeks:

i’ll be seeing you by Elizabeth — 46.7K - rated M — it’s a lambert/aiden fic which i absolutely adore (and it’s complete!). it’s part two of her Vesemir & Sons Private Investigators series (part 1 is geraskier, and oh, it’s too good), and oh, my god. you just have to read it, if you haven’t yet!

all you have is your fire by king_finn — 65.3K - rated E — prison au turned into flower shop au. it’s so, so good and it drew me in immediately (i read it all in, like, the span of four hours). definitely worth a read! it’s soft and loving and there’s the perfect amount of angst weaved in between.

geraskier onlyfans au by iisintrovert — 19.7K - rated E — it’s a series! geralt’s got an onlyfans account and, well... jaskier helps him manage it. it’s hot, it’s funny, it’s angsty and frustrating in the best way possible. there are four works, and they’re all incredible!

electric kisses and lace by SweetestHoney — 21K - rated E — another onlyfans au! (i was going through something that day, i’m sure). i’m borrowing the author’s note because it’s too good a summary: That one where Jask is on onlyfans and Geralt calls him out on it, leading to the worlds stupidest morons being dumb at each other for 20,000 words straight. so, so good!

‘tis the season by whisperedstory — 3.4K - rated E — jaskier and geralt keep falling into bed together. no feelings involved, though, obviously. or are there? anyway, this is the sweetest hotest cutest holiday-season modern au ever. go read it immediately. (also, go read time for change is here and its sequel, first day of forever, for fluffiness overload including ciri and christmas time).

over easy by miershooptier — 8.1K - rated T — waffle house au, or five times geralt’s eggs were not over easy, and one time they were. so cute and infuriating + jaskier being a little shit, so. the best.

better together than we’ll ever be on our own by whisperedstory — 17.7K - rated E — oh my god, this one. for their first trip as a couple, geralt and jaskier go camping. it’s the sweetest, most domestic fic ever, so full of romance and easy companionship, ugh, you just crave a love like this.

(basically, go read everything whisperedstory’s ever written).

that’s all i can think of right now - there are some modern au recs back in my thirsty thursday posts, if you’d like more! i hope you enjoy these as much as i did, and if you do, please let the author know! i’m always happy to share these and get new recs, too <3

#hope u like em!!!! i can never get enough of modern aus <3 #fic rec #anonymous #answered #thirsty thursday #fic rec list

56 notes · View notes

snickiebear · 3 years

Note

Hi bby! 1, 2, 3, 6, 16, 27, 29, 33, 35! 🖤

mittens!!! loml!!

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

oh goodness... um, i’d say a 4?? yeah, that sounds about right, only because i often make so many tense mistakes and even when i edit there’s always something to fix. and just,,, im still learning a lot (aren’t we all). plus, sometimes the stuff i put out needs so much more work (see: my recent shisaku fic... i want to tear it up and put it back together.. ugh.. also wt&r, just everything)

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

OH GOODIE! i just... well, i wrote a lot when i was twelve-fourteenish, then kind of on and off through the years. never really had anything to ground me and get me to take writing seriously. and then i found naruto and sakura who has so much unused potential and it just made me so angry to see her treated that way.

point being, the naruto fandom (more specifically the sakura fandom) rooted me down and allowed me be able to grow as a writer even though i’ve only been posting since january my writing style has changed so much, and i can physically feel myself becoming a better writer.

plus, i just love it. the thrill of being able to use these characters and pairings and do what i want with them?? i drink it up, i love it!!! its so freeing and such a great way to really dig deep within writing itself.

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

i think its just the way i word things, you and a lot of others call it poetry but meh i just call it fancy words or word vomit from my brain AHAHHAHA

also, my thing is God Killers, God Eaters, and Angry Wrathful Women at this point, so maybe thats another thing?

but honestly,,, i have no clue... you’d have to ask my lovely readers, im so thankful for them 😭

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

plot probably. this changes often though. usually when i have an idea, the rest comes to mind and i jot it down and come back and change things and stuff, so thats usually pretty easy tbh... at least for now LMAO

and inner dialogue, inner struggles, showing the entire internal thing. its fun writing that angsty part of a story, the small insights into a character’s mind, how miserable and alone they feel. or, perhaps how happy they are, overjoyed and at peace.

OH AND WORLD BUILDING. i pride myself so much on my world building. i honestly think thats one of the better things im good at! just weaving small details into the text, and subtly building a world within your mind, oh i love it so much!!!!

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

mmmm nothing really comes to mind? men simping for women who could kick their ass? tho idk if thats really a guilty pleasure....am very fond of same age aus, sometimes mafia aus too... ummm,, yeah

(probably big dick tenzo tbh... and the fact that kakashi’s face is a legal weapon AHAHAHA,,, and broken, vunreble men. also, shattered, all consuming women.)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

oh god... i cannot chose! you, ele, al, and hika leave the kindest comments, and literally any comment on the things i write just make me so so so so so HAPPY. i just them more than kudos tbh.

but! one comment on the intimacy of being understood i always come back to. it was left by GuardianMars and they wrote that the fic was like a “love letter to the pairing.” and that well. i think about that comment all the time.

there have been so many others comments that have utterly touched my heart and that i will go to read on terrible, horrible days and i value ALL comments. especially those who say “i’m rereading this again” or “i’ll read anything you put out” that just. there is something so intimate about that, that utter faith and loyalty that i do not know what to do with.

its so touching and makes me truly believe in the good of the world.

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

yes! i am attempting to get better at writing smut because ol&w is going to have some fucking in it so i experimented in that shisaku fic and just..... yeah idk man. idk... its something i do want to get better at cause, meh why not? and i want to write some good porn for my readers damnit! HAHAHA

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

hmmm,,, probably that i stress so much and yet so little at the same time? allow me to elaborate! i stress so much about whether my writing is actually good or if people are just being nice LMAO and also posting, i get cold sweats and a thumping heart and yiKES

but also, i enjoy writing so its like “fuck you (jk ily guys) imma write what i wanna!”...do you see my issue? HAHAHA

also, im a planner. most of the time, and a lot of the details in my more serious fics (ol&w) are blink and miss details but they’re important and i LOVE foreshadowing!!!! like yes, i will vaguely mention something and itll simply come back with a vengeance!

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

aaaaaa okokok thank you for this ask LMAO i just love talking about writing and rambling (as i often do,, im a long winded person, im very sorry)!

but anyways! my summer semester just started up and i’m taking three purely online classes and the college im attending (im a dual enrollment student; meaning a high school and college kid,, taking advantage of the system!) fucked up my schedule so! im taking two TWELVE WEEK CLASSES that will end in AUGUST???? and then my fall sem starts five days later so... no summer break for nadia! yay...

writing will be very slow and updates will be too, which i am so sad and frustrated about because i’ve finally hit a paved road and now we’re driving into the forest! all bumps and bruises damnit! BUT worry not! i (as i said above, am i severe planner. every day has a plan, i am also an avid lover of lists also. i have lists for EVERYTHING) am working out a schedule so that i can get all my school shit done as soon as i can (while not failing) and write while hopefully not burning myself out.

ol&w is such an intricate fic and im truly trying to give it the justice it deserves,,, im just hoping that my dear readers can bear with me HAHAHAHA there is honestly so much going on in that fic; shikamaru’s development, the underlying plot, the hate to love build up, the world building, and then laying down the foundations for the next fic (because yes, this is supposed to be a trilogy.. question is; will i be able to write it?) (answer: maybe. hopefully. i desperately want to but it might take some time.)

BUT ASLO i have so many oneshots i want to write! kisame week! kakashi week! kibasaku long fic! and not to mention my og work that i plan on rewriting and putting up on ao3 because a few people showed some interest. there is just so much to do and write and i am itching to do it all! but. well, but school, and the exhaustion of insomnia, and the weight of stress, sigh.

shit sucks, it is what it is. but writing is like my safe haven and i just love pouring all myself into my fics and then baring my soul to you all and you take a peek and decide to keep looking. that is my favorite part of this little pocket of tumblr.

this was not really... fic related? more like a dump of issues! so sorry about that AHAHAHAH

anyways! thank you so much mittens! :)))))))))

pick my brain!

#silly things from silly friends

11 notes · View notes