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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Okay this is very random but I recently discovered a song called “Dangerous Hands” by Austin Giorgio and for some reason I imagine rockstar!Joel having actress!reader be featured in the song and the music video like soon after they get back together and the music video is like the big announcement that they’re back together and idk I just love that so much! If you enjoy the song I think that would be a super fun story, can’t wait for the proposal/wedding content for OFTM though!!

Sorry this took literally so long but the wedding content for OFTM is coming soon!! I’m writing it now but I hope you enjoy how this came out 🥸

Thank God I Found You

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: none! Just fluff :-)

"Do you know how many other actresses there are in Los Angeles?" You ask, and Joel groans from his place on the couch. Daisy runs toward him, thinking he's in trouble, and you laugh when she lands on his chest.

"But why would I hire someone else when I could hire you?" He asks, his voice a little strained with the forty-pound pitbull on his chest, as you perch on the back of the couch to look down at him.

"Because nobody except for our families knows we're back together." You say, petting Daisy. She leans into your hand and slumps against the cushion with an overdramatic harumph, making both of you laugh.

It's been almost six months since you and Joel got back together, and somehow, nobody knows. You've managed to keep it under wraps with strategic NDAs, at-home date nights, and keeping each other off social media. It's been peaceful getting to reconnect without public eyes on you, and you want to keep it that way for as long as possible. However, it's been getting harder and harder to keep it a secret. It's exhausting always waiting for someone to talk to a news outlet or for one of you to slip up on social media or in an interview.

Joel planning a music video for "The Yellow Subway" has brought all those feelings to the forefront. He wants you to star in it, playing yourself, considering how the entire album is about you. He's even talked about paying you, ensuring it's union work, basically giving you any and every incentive possible to get you to do this. Still, you're hesitant. Ever since your last Shakespeare in the Park in New York, you've vowed never to work with another partner again. It's been seven years, and you know Joel would never do anything close to what your last boyfriend did, but there's still that fear.

"This could be how we tell everyone," he suggests. "Could be kinda cool." You take a deep breath and slide your hand from under Daisy's head to play with Joel's hair. He puts a hand on your hip, and his thumb kneads circles into the muscle.

"I read the script." You admit quietly, and he raises his eyebrows.

"You did?" He asks, and you nod. "What'd ya think?"

"I thought it was familiar," you say, and he laughs. It's true. It's basically a visual retelling of your time in New York, and it wouldn't be hard to trace the timeline, lyrics, and story to you. The song is also named after the yellow Q Train you took from Hell's Kitchen back to the Upper East Side. "But I also thought it was really, really beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So, what can I do to get you to do this?" He asks softly, adding a little more pressure to your hip, and you sigh. "A million dollars? A trip to Bora Bora? Sex every day for a year?" He lists, making you laugh. You occupy your mind by tucking a curl behind his ear and focusing on his touch.

"You really don't think going public will change anything between us?" You ask, and he sits up, agitating Daisy enough to make her get up and walk over to her bed.

"Do you think it'll change anythin'?"

"I don't know. We were public before, but that was different. It wasn't on our terms. We were literally forced to be seen out together," you shrug. "And I kinda like our little bubble. It's quiet. It's just for us. We've never had that before." You say, and he nods. You swing your legs over the edge of the couch and slide into his lap, your mind still whirring with thoughts as you straddle him. It's not that you don't want to share your love with the world. It's that the world got pieces of you before he did, and vice versa. But you also don't want to always be looking over your shoulder for sneaky paparazzi and nosy fans. If you're going to go public, you want it to be on your terms.

"If you don't wanna do this, you don't have to. We can… keep our bubble for a little bit longer." Joel says as he kisses your cheek.

"But then you won't have an actor for your video."

"A little birdie told me there are a lot of actresses in Los Angeles lookin' for work," he teases. "I want you to feel safe and comfortable for as long as possible. If that means keepin' things quiet for a little while longer, that's fine. I just care about makin' sure you're happy."

"How are you so perfect?" You ask, and he laughs.

"Could ask you the same thing," he deflects, locking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. Daisy snores lightly from the corner of the room, but other than that, the only thing you can hear is his breathing and the ticking of his watch. Everything you see, feel, and smell is Joel. "I love you." He whispers.

"I love you, too." You whisper back as you push his too-long curls out of his face. Then, like time slowed down just for you, Joel brushes his lips against yours and kisses you. You think this is your favorite way to kiss him. So much of your early relationship was about how fast you could get through dates and obligations, and everything went by so quickly that you barely had a chance to catch your breath. Since you've been back, everything's been intentional and slow, like if things pick up too fast, too soon, this will disappear. Slow kisses, movie nights with the girls, pool days with Daisy, holding each other just because you can— all gone in the blink of an eye. You wish you could freeze those moments and replay them forever so you never forget what they looked and felt like.

"Wait," you say, suddenly pulling away from Joel's lips. He furrows his eyebrows and pouts but doesn't say anything, so your thought doesn't run away. "I have an idea."

For the next three months, you and Joel spend time capturing those quiet, intentional moments of intimacy. He gets clips of you and the girls dancing in the kitchen to an ABBA song while cookies bake in the oven. You get clips of him strumming guitar by the fire pit in his backyard with your legs laid across his lap. At one point, Ellie even picked up the camera and got clips of you two working together to set up your Christmas tree, playing with Daisy in the backyard, and even watching the New Year's Eve fireworks from the balcony. It's a messy, complex, blurry snapshot of your lives, and it's perfect.

A year to the day since you and Joel got back together, the music video for "The Yellow Subway" premieres as an anniversary present. It opens with Sarah's beautiful cursive handwriting announcing, "A year in the making." Then, as pieces of your shared life play, Joel sings the song he wrote when he thought he would never see you again, let alone get to hold you the way he does in many of the clips. You each post it to your Instagram with pride and only a little bit of (healthy) fear. You caption yours, "To the love of my life, thank you for being patient with me. I will always get coffee with you." Joel captions his, "You're my favorite secret. I love you, pretty girl."

Your posts blow up with comments, reposts, and likes, and the music video surpasses one million views overnight. Neither of you really cares about that. The only thing you care about is the fact that the entire world knows you're back together, and nothing has changed. You still fall asleep in his arms that night and make breakfast together in the morning.

You're unsure what the next year of your lives will look like, but if it's anything close to you sliding Joel a cup of coffee while he cooks eggs for you and the girls, you think that's pretty damn good.

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel x actress!reader #tlou au #the last of us au #joel miller au #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #soft joel miller #joel miller series #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel the last of us #joel and sarah #joel and ellie #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff

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psychewritesbs · 10 months

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Hello any thoughts on the new jjk poster? People at X were confused whether the silhouette featured in the middle is Gojo or Megumi, although most conclude it's Gojo cause it does look like the panel from Shibuya when his reflection showed on the prison realm's eyes.

But, I kinda feel like Gege is being purposely deceptive here (cause that silhouette could really pass off as Megumi as well). For starters, the illustration feels like an overview of the entire Culling Games arc up until the current chap (esp. with Heian form Sukuna featured). And what's been at the forefront of the main cast's goal is to save Megumi (or at least that's how it is in Yuji's case). There's also the thing with Kenjaku's rule that everyone with the exception of Geto and Megumi must die for the CG to end. And feel free to correct me on this cause I may be misremembering/misinterpreting, but I've always thought the rule meant that 'Megumi and Geto must be the only ones left alive in order for the games to end'. So Megumi's survival is also to Kenjaku's best interest. And then we have Sukuna who is currently possessing Megumi, and Gojo and Yuji attempting to 'save' him. So like, the four main guys featured in the poster is involved with Megumi's current predicament one way or another.

Another reason why I think the silhouette isn't Gojo is because by chap 236 I believe he finally got an answer for Geto's question about who Gojo Satoru is, basically gaining enlightenment in death. And that scene of his reflection on the prison realm was moreso symbolic of his identity crisis right? So I think it's weird that a CG themed poster would backtrack on this despite the fact that the Gojo sealed in PR plotline was like how many chapters ago. The narrative and Gojo has moved on basically. And I also think it's redundant to feature Gojo twice in that illustration (esp. cause his unsealing is no longer the focus of the current events).

So I wonder, if the silhouette is indeed Megumi and this might be a hint on how he may come back, is the Prison Realm going to play a role in it?

Interestingly enough, there was a theory I came across before that one of the ways the main cast may go about sealing Sukuna is by using the Prison Realm. And if we're going full on with the symbolisms, and apply Gojo's confusion on his 'identity' being reflected on the PR's eyes, I think Megumi's current state may also mirror that very same concept. In the sense that, with Tsumiki (his moral compass) gone he has to reevaluate himself on a fundamental level. Basically rebuilding his identity from the ground up.

And idk I'm rambling now, I hope I'm making any sense cause I'm pretty shit at explaining my points. Anyways, maybe I'm just missing my boy but I sure do hope the center of that illustration is really Meg instead of Gojo.

I'm assuming you mean this one:

Let me overthink the hell out of it under the cut...

Ok so first thing's first, this is defo another mandala like the one from that jump giga issue with Yuji at the center.

What's relevant about the idea that it is a mandala, is that, in Buddhism they represent the universe and/or Buddhist teachings. I particularly like the idea that a "mandala generally represents the spiritual journey, starting from outside to the inner core, through layers" (Wikipedia).

Similarly, from a psych standpoint, Jung saw the mandala as a symbol of wholeness:

“I began to understand that the goal of psychic development is the self. There is no linear evolution; there is only a circumambulation of the self.”

circumambulation... what a word tho

“The mandala is an archetypal image [that]... signifies the wholeness of the Self. This circular image represents the wholeness of the psychic ground or, to put it in mythic terms, the divinity incarnate in man.”

I think I've talked about the Self in an ask before, where the Self (soul) (4) is the total sum of the holy trinity--mind is body is spirit (3).

ehem... you know the drill...

That said, I do agree with you that I don't think it's necessarily Gojo because, if we're talking about a mandala as a symbol of wholeness, it is redundant to show Gojo twice. Rather, it feels like Gojo is part of said wholeness.

Regarding the "eye" at the center, I do like the idea that it is an eye upon which someone can see themselves reflected the way it happened for Gojo.

Crack theory here, but what if this is actually about the reader seeing themselves reflected upon the manga--more specifically the four characters drawn on the mandala.

That's just a thought tho.

Regardless of who is meant to be reflected at the center, this particular poster is just loaded with symbolism.

It's kind of interesting you have two "good" guys and two "bad" guys represented in this drawing, so there is very clear yin/yang symbolism in it.

Each side (good and bad) has a character upside down, we also have the good guys not directly facing the audience, while the bad guys directly face the audience.

One of the things that feels very relevant about this particular positioning is that there is a circular motion happening, in other words, you can look at each character in a clockwise or counter-clockwise manner. Why does this matter? Remember that word from Jung's quote? Circumambulation fuck this word is the ritualistic act of moving around a sacred object. In Buddhism in particular, circumambulation is done in a clock-wise manner.

Ok, next layer.

Another VERY prominent symbol is the number four. I already talked about the wholeness of the Self as represented by the number four, but you will also notice the number is repeated in the poster.

In Buddhism, the number four shows up in a lot of motifs... too many to address here. One representation of the number four is the Four Inverted Views, which represent inverted views of Buddhist ideals, but there's also the Four Noble Truths, of which, the 4th truth outlines the method through which we can overcome suffering--that is, following the eightfold path.

The number eight as a motif also shows up with Maho-chan, who belongs to the Eight Legions of divine beings, and whose eight-spoke wheel symbolizes dharma.

Perhaps not so coincidentally, Maho's wheel is featured in the top left and bottom right hand corner of the poster.

ANYWAYS...

So this is the thing, right... going back to this idea that a character sees itself reflected in someone else's eyes and defines their identity based on that reflection, whomever is reflected in the eye at the center of the mandala is made whole by all 4 of the characters in the mandala.

What is interesting is that Gojo and Yuji are not looking directly at the audience, while Kenny and Sukuna are. And there's something so entrancing (mandalas are technically meant to put people in a meditative trance) about the way Sukuna and Kenny stare directly at the audience.

Ok, to put it all together though, it's almost like all of these characters make up a whole. To me, the circular motion of the mandala speaks to an exploration of identity through the eyes of these characters.

To bring it back to the idea that a mandala is also a map of spiritual evolution moving in a concentric manner from the outer edges and into the center, it feels like these characters and the themes they represent are but pit stops or stages of psychospiritual evolution on the way to "enlightenment town".

As for Mahoraga's wheel being represented, it speaks to Dharma or cosmic and moral order.

Is Maho's wheel an allusion to Megumi? idk, but I'm going to make a crazy leap of logic here and say that one of the themes at the core of Megumi's character is his gray morality and his dualistic thinking around good and evil.

With good and evil so clearly depicted by the characters represented, I kind of have to wonder because they are positioned in a cross-type shape. Esoterically, a cross can represent a union of opposites as well.

Anyways... these are my #thought and I rambled too, but hopefully this helps you with your own #thoughts. I feel like you could be on the right track with the idea that Megumi's identity is being rebuilt from the ground up if he is the character reflected at the center of the mandala.

Also, I miss Megumi too, anon... can't wait to see what the suffering he's experiencing makes of him.

Thanks for dropping by 🥲.

#god i love jujutsu kaisen #ask the mental gymnastics anime girl

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coffee-with-mint-syrup · 7 months

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I finally finished watching the first episode of the atla, took me 2 hours.

So you can already see where the show lacks and where it is just great.

I'd say that the visuals are totally not the strongest feature of the series. Locations are mostly great but the costumes are surely not - colours are just a little bit too bright, ornaments are too large and could definitely use more detailing. They kinda look cartoonish and a little bit cheap. Appa's cgi...did not look great.

Acting, sadly, is not great either. It's not terrible and does not affext the viewing experience for me, kids are quite talented, you can see that here and there, but they idk feel kinda inexperienced? (Although it's not like they are actual newbies in acting). I hope they are learning on set and are getting better and better as the series progresses. They really need to figure out what to do with those hands while talking.

And the saddest of it all - like 50% of what characters are saying feels completely unnatural and kinda flat. Which is also not the worst thing, just kinda...not good. Also - where's that iconic "You're just a child - well, you're just a teenager" exchange? You can't change the iconic stuff!

But as I said previously - all the other stuff is pretty great.

I love the work they did with restructuring of the beginning. The beginning with the airbenders was absolutely perfect (at least for me) except for aang's monologue. I love that they made the tone of the show more mature and serious and didn't break it with more jokes for funzies.

I was afraid that they would make Katara excellent bender from the start just for girlbossification (which she absolutely does not need) and I'm really glad they didn't and showed her struggling at least a little bit at least at the beginning.

As I previously stated I love what they did to Sokka. Yes, he's not quite like Sokka we know and love but it doesn't feel like character assassination, rather, they decided to emphasize different side of his personality and arc. I kinda love his new dynamic with Katara - I feel like this version of her relies onto her older brother much more and it feels natural.

I love how camera sometimes tilts a little bit during tense moments.

The scene in prison cell with uncle Iroh and Aang? It's actually perfect. The way Iroh introduces himself, the way Aang asks why did the fire nation attack - this kid nailed his "child in distress" performance in this scene - and the way Iroh starts with some philosophy...It's just perfect.

Zuko is also great although now I'm a little bit worried that they switched his "honor" with "glory".

And many other little things.

Although there is some really weird stuff and it's, well, Katara. It feels like they toned down her motherly nature and leaned more into her warrior side. I really hope they did not change her "mother in the group" role in order for her to be less traditionally feminine and more badass girlboss type. There could be one more reason - they decided to cut out all the Kataang so there are fewer moments between them with this loving and caring mood, and about this one I feel pretty conflicted about. I'm not a fan of Kataang and I would definitely hate for it to happen on screen with those two actual kids - but I feel like Aang's crush on Katara is kinda essential for the plot and his arc? Like something that he would have to overcome and let go of? Idk. Like I said - I feel pretty conflicted about it.

#I definitely won't be posting such long opinions on every episode and every little detail #it really takes a lot of time that I'd better spend actually watching the series #plus I think all the stuff I listed probably applies to the rest of series #atla #netflix atla #avatar the last airbender

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mercurypyrite · 1 year

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ok so i finished book 6 last night so this is a bit belated but whatever. longass masterpost of my thoughts on everything post 6-81 incoming

i felt awful for vil (3hrs of crying, he’s gotta be dehydrated) but it was lowkey kinda funny how malleus just popped up and was like “i’m in your debt (according to lilia) (pretty sure this was just for their own amusement?? idk man they’re fae) so i’ll help 👍” and just kinda poofed him back to normal.

i think this is the… third time we’ve seen him do smth like that? first at VDC, then during endless halloween night, and finally now. (though EHN came first canonically.) he seems to be making a habit of it. and that joyful squeal? love that. (vil’s normally so poised, though — goes to show how deeply book 6, and being rudely confronted by his fear of aging, rattled him)

leona: i’ve been fighting all night and i’m dead on my feet

ruggie & jack: sorry what. PLEASE elaborate

once i saw adeuce the only thought left in my head was “MY BOYS THEYRE HERE” i’m so glad they’re okay like damn. it feels like everyone’s been gone longer than 2 days lmao

“Human lives are as ethereal as silk thread on a spinning wheel — and just as easily cut short. But their fragility can be a boon. Interweaving and layering those threads creates the strong, resilient tapestry of their history. Such is the creature called man — neighbor to we creatures of the night.”

so so tempted to make part of this my blog quote but it sounds so pretentious. not like the current one isn’t i guess. also sleeping beauty ref goes brrr

ortho (lovingly) dragging idia is one of my new favorite things i think

“You don’t have any close friends who can keep you in line yet, and I don’t know if you ever will. Not to put too fine a point on it, but leaving you to your own devices is a terrible idea. So… I want to stay with you. Is that asking too much?”

“You’ve been my real brother for a long time now, Ortho.”

“Let’s go back to Night Raven College. You’ve got people waiting for you there.”

“…Yeah, I do, huh.”

LIKE GOD. THEM. i want to stay with you. you don’t have to act like my little brother but you’ve been my real brother for a while now. you don’t have close friends but you DO have people waiting for you. they won’t forget. (and then he ends up gaming with vdc gang and bantering with ortho around them, slowly coming out of his shell if only temporarily, and i’m so soft over that)

refurbished ramshackle was nice to see but… not really surprising, lol. looks directly at the guest room feature. twsten rlly likes doing things out of order huh.

also yuu spent “a few weeks” at pomefiore?? honorary heartslabyul student yuu is out, honorary pomefiore student yuu is in. they even got a uniform!!

jk they can coexist

(i will make them coexist. i love them both sm)

(i wanna see riddle and vil fighting over yuu /hj)

“I was called before parliament in the Land of Dawning. Bigwigs from STYX, the Department of Education, AND the Department of Magic all bombarded me with questions and glared daggers at me… ‘Why are so many consecutive overblots happening on your watch?! How do you explain this?!’

“That’s what I want to know! What have I done, except run this school as diligently as I could?! Night Raven College has resident counselors and medical mages appointed by the Department of Education as it is!

“Since the assembly saw no major issues with the school’s leadership, the inquiry came to a close… But I certainly didn’t expect one of our students to bring about an off-campus catastrophe even as we convened!”

crowley actually getting in legal trouble (or at least being threatened with legal trouble) actually surprised me a lot??? i’m so used to thinking stuff like this would more or less get covered up for plot convenience or wtv that it’s nice to see crowley get smacked with it. rip headmage

ALSO rip therapist yuu memes bc NRC HAS THERAPISTS (tho theyre not rlly dead bc. no one SEES the therapists. probably. stubborn kids.)

seeing ortho again = no thoughts left in my head redux, “BABY BOY” edition!! he looks so nice!! i love the lil buttons!! rlly i love all the details, looking like an NRC uniform while still being undeniably ortho

“‘I don’t get it’ is a perfect encapsulation of my current state!”

LOL. he’s not wrong though.

…of course crowley took a bribe. i dunno why i’m surprised to hear that.

though in vil’s words, “It’s hardly our place to interject if it’s a win-win for both parties, I suppose.”

crowley’s inquiry about grim’s health makes me side-eye him more strongly the more i think about it. yes i know why (grim attacked yuu, was more strongly affected by the blot, etc) but i’m still suspicious, i wanna know if there’s more to it.

“I’m truly glad that you — ah, that is, ALL of you — made it back to the school safe and sound.”

the way he added “all of you” made it seem to me like they were an afterthought compared to grim…

twst rlly put aaaall the fluff at the end huh. not like i’m complaining though!! it’s like a reward for getting through all the angst. idia’s gift is very him (lol) and idia and ortho playing video games with everyone is adorable

“We should probably make Idia play holding the controller backwards or something, though. He’s super good.”

“I see what you’re doing, Ortho. Trying to skate by without any handicaps for yourself, huh? YOU’RE the one who needs extra restrictions, like no items allowed.”

play for a crowd! is also up there on my list of favorite twistunes but i can’t play it while sleep deprived or my score goes down the toilet. ask me how i know. half the time normal mode is harder than hard mode.

also i haven’t said it anywhere yet but idia’s battle theme is a banger too. ignihyde osts killed it

and rook and vil’s discussion of ortho’s soul!! screams!!

“He — or rather, they — chose to try and boost their brother up from the depths below to the skies above. What do you call such love and affection, if not a soul?”

the “dream” sequence was so interesting!! yuu and mickey can’t see anything but each other. grim can’t see mickey either, and vice versa.

but. mickey could see silver. why was silver at ramshackle at night? a reasonable assumption is that silver went to ramshackle to find malleus, couldn’t, and left, but really…

why could mickey see silver at all?

i’ve heard (though i haven’t got a source for this unfortunately) that silver says — somewhere — that he’s seen yuu before, or that they look familiar, or something along those lines. i wanna know if this is connected to that. also, silver’s curse. that too. sleep/dreams vs reality etc.

and last but not least, lilia is dropping death flags left and right and malleus is Concerned. to be fair, so am i. what’s going on, dude?

(sidenote: damn it riddle’s hair went back to normal. i was hoping he’d just have white hair now 😭)

(also, eagerly awaiting the “gloomurai is idia and muscle red is lilia” reveal in book 7. yana pls.)

(i… may have gotten spoiled a bit. unintentionally. so now i know that in book 7, [REDACTED].)

#py liveblogs twst book 6 #twst #twst book 6 spoilers

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eri-cheri · 4 years

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Now that we have reached the last chapter of the year. It is time to do a 2020 roll call of what I like to call, “State of the Shippers”:

1. IzuOcha. Status: Placated.

-IzuOcha’s could celebrate several cute tidbits throughout the year. Mini moments as they say.

Anime Highlights: The OVA’s came in clutch with moments for shippers all around and IzuOcha is no exception. We got a cute tidbit where Izuku and Ochako bumped into each other and were flustered.

Manga Highlights: Christmas kept on giving to this fandom as the AM doll Izuku gave Ochako made many appearances. A cute fist bump between the two was also exchanged and Mina was right there bouncing with y’all.

Heroes Rising: Izuku super man carried Ochako to safety. And was Angy she was injured. Fans could enjoy the small Lois Lane moment.

Troubling Signs?: Ochako said “I would like to be excluded from this narrative” when it comes to her feelings for Deku. She’s a hero damnit! So if they are in for something, probably won’t be while they are still in school.

II. DabiHawks. Status: Yikes.

- Dabi and Hawk’s very public breakup set this fandom in disarray but also kind of disayay?

Anime Highlights: None yet. This fandom was cruelly cock blocked by Bones. Sorry DabiHawks stans.

Manga Highlights: Where to begin, my goodness. With these fans, I guess the good and the bad is a plus in this homoerotic double agent relationship. We have the notion that Dabi may have known Hawks when they were kids, which may be a positive? Hori sure loves his childhood friends. Other than that. The GIRLS WERE FIGHTIN’. Hawks is now permanently scarred by Dabi and I don’t think it was kinky folks. Tokoyami inserted himself in the middle to White Knight Hawks, Dabi broke up with him via YT expose and overall, shippers could anguish in the absolute MESS that this ship endured this year. But I’m sure that’s part of the appeal. So...yay?

Heroes Rising: They were both in it.

Troubling Signs?: The entire relationship is a troubling sign which again, is part of the appeal. Maybe Hawks will cuddle up with Dabi’s father after the war. That’s troubling! Speaking of...

III. EndHawks. Status: Yearning and Burning.

-If there’s one thing Endeavor couldn’t stop worrying about, it was his hot (in more ways than one) new side piece who probably should have looked at the fine print when signing a contract to be a recurring guest star on “Keeping up with the Todoroki’s”.

Anime Highlights: A fateful meeting finally in high definition for all our eyes to see! Hawks’s unwavering support of his biggest hero was endearing to watch and their shenanigans together spurred the anime onlies to finally jump on the biggest May-December ship in the series.

Manga Highlights: Endeavor’s admiration and concern for Hawks seeped through the pages as we entered our most exciting arc in the manga yet. Fate split these two up yet entwined their downfall together. And that Fate’s name was Dabi...or should I say ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️ or should I just say Touya!

Heroes Rising: “Don’t bite my head off, Endeavor.” Geez, can you flirt a little less loud Hawks?

Troubling Signs?: They say never meet your heroes and Hawks is in for a rude awakening. We shall see just how deep his admiration runs or if Endeavor’s past will split our dynamic duo up for good.

IV: TodoDeku. Status: “Precious”

-Shoto’s “Midoriya is in Danger” radar was highlighted in both manga and anime. 4th User’s quirk, who?

Anime Highlights: “Midoriya hasn’t returned yet.” “Where’s Midoriya?” “Midoriya! Grab my hand!” “Have some of my Soba Midoriya.” Shoto gets it. His emotional support friend is a danger magnet. TodoDeku’s also enjoyed tiny tidbits in the OVA such as a hand grabbing scene. Gotta hold tight to those crumbs.

Manga Highlights: Two Words. “Precious Friend.” Deku comes in w/o arms or legs fighting for Shoto and Shoto’s honor. These two spent the entire year worried sick about each other, and going against all odds to save each other. Precious Friends indeed. TDDK fans ate.

Heroes Rising: Shoto kicks some dog ass and then faints thinking of Deku (and Bakugo but shh. Let the shippers rejoice.) On the bright side, we have a 3rd movie coming featuring “The Three Musketeers” so shippers of TdDk can HOLD TIGHT to what’s to come.

Troubling Signs?: Shoto still doesn’t know about OFA and he’s gonna have LOTS of questions after this arc. Will Deku finally tell him? If not, it could make or break the ship.

V. TodoBaku. Status: “Shining through the city with a little funk and soul.”

-Who knew the greatest comedy duo we needed was Shoto and his hot headed “friend” or not friend? It still remains unclear to Shoto. Regardless, these two had a fun year.

Anime Highlights: “I wanna see your cute face”, disco dancing, and more fun in the provisional license training. Plus the OVA added some cute moments between the two such as Bakugo staying behind to save Todoroki during a dangerous excercise and his adorable plan neatly animated for us. I’d say TodoBaku’s really were resurgent and energized this year!

Manga Highlights: Shoto, that is not how you properly Catch a Kacchan, I’m sorry. But at least you did it you mad lad. As with Deku, Shoto spent the year worried sick about Bakugo. While the anime let us have our fun, these two were suffering in the manga.

Heroes Rising: Again, Shoto put a dog down and then fainted with Bakugo on his mind (and Deku but we ignore that. Shush.) TodoBaku’s have the 3rd movie to look forward to which is bound to have some amazing content!

Troubling Signs?: They have a lot of trauma to deal with. And a lot of Deku to worry about. I also imagine Shoto will be hurt about being left out of the OFA secret. We shall see what 2021 has to offer.

VI. KiriMina. Status: Unbreakable.

-Changing your hairstyle to match the gal who inspired you in middle school? Sorry y’all but if Mina were a guy, I’d say that’s gay af.

Anime Highlights: We got that backstory Bois. Red Riot’s origin might as well make him be called Pink Riot. Again with Hori and the childhood friends though I wouldn’t exactly call them friends. They just went to the same middle school but Kirishima was highly influenced by Mina’s Chivalrous spirit! A ship is born!

Manga Highlights: The influence is mutual! Mina creates a move based on Kirishima’s unbreakable and we all let out a collective “awwww”. Also in the war arc, we got Kirishima making sure Mina’s chivalrous spirit shines through right into Gigantomachia’s mouth! KiriMina may just be the unsung MVP’s of this arc.

Heroes Rising: They were in it.

Troubling Signs?: I can’t think of a single one. KiriMina’s can enjoy a peaceful sailing.

VII: KiriBaku. Status: Crumb Collectors.

-2020 was an uneventful year for KiriBaku but Bones made sure there were crumbs aplenty! Thank God for OVA’s!

Anime Highlights: KiriBaku’s did thrive in one episode! Kirishima reflects on the sludge incident and evolves his quirk based on inspiring words from Bakugo! Hooray! KiriBaku’s can thrive in their blossoming friendship. The OVA also has Kirishima (and Kaminari but shh) once again following Bakugo’s lead when it comes to the training excercise. How can you not? He’s so manly!

Manga Highlights: Not gonna lie. There is nothing much here this year. I did find a teeny tiny flake in Aizawa’s flashback. Kirishima and Bakugo are sitting next to each other. Oh! And at the hot pot gathering, Bakugo sits next to Kirishima! Eat your crumbs KiriBaku’s! There’s always next year!

Heroes Rising: Kirishima hangs with a lazy Bakugo and delivers the most hilarious line in the whole movie. “Silly Bakugo, there won’t be villains here!” Hahah... Silly Bakugo. Oh you~ KiriBaku’s can inhale the fact that those two sure love to hover around each other!

Troubling Signs?: With great crumbs come little responsiblity. No trouble if there’s no content! 🤔

VIII: KamiJirou. Status: Singing their hearts out 🎶

-If there’s any ship that’s coming close to canonization, I think this is it, folks! “Think of the person most important to you!” Can’t argue with Midnight!

Anime Highlights: Kaminari does non stop encouraging of Jirou and her hobbies! He works super hard to learn guitar for her sake! We love a king who can encourage his queen!

Manga Highlights: Kaminari thinks of the most important person to him and surprise! It’s Jirou! All of the feels can commence.

Heroes Rising: They were in it!

Troubling Signs?: Kaminari does love his women. And men. Kaminari overall is a huge flirt. But Jirou appears to have his heart strings. ❤️

IX: BakuDeku. Status: Rising. 👑

-Alternative Statuses include Winning, Thriving, Soaring. It’s just been non stop content this year. 2020 is truly the year for BakuDeku. The shippers can rejoice.

Anime Highlights: Three words. Be. My. Cane. The OVA’s helped fan the flames of the BkDk hearts with a surprise! Deku tops! Not only that, we got a lovely shoulder tap of encouragement in the canon material. While in season 4, Deku’s primary focus was Eri. Bakugo and Deku still had their moments to be hella gay.

Manga Highlights: Where do I even begin? I guess we’ll just cut to the chase with Bakugo Katsuki: Rising. We finally saw Bakugo’s true feelings manifest for Deku and if getting stabbed for him isn’t the ultimate showing of love, then idk what is. BakuDeku’s rounded out the year with the Volume 29 cover AND the volume 29 cover drafts to eat at our heart strings. Overall, their relationship got the spotlight in the manga this year. And we’re bound to start 2021 with a dramatic confrontation. Hand holding seems to be the key with these two and it didn’t stop with Heroes Rising...speaking of.

Heroes Rising: The entire movie. Like....yeah. That’s it. [OP, your bias is showing. You have to be SPECIFIC.] {But random criticizer in my head, if I lay out the entire plot of the movie, my post will be too long} [OP....] UGHHHH Okay okay. The POPSICLE MELTING. THE HAND HOLDING. THE CHARACTER DESIGNS OF WHAT MIGHT AS WELL BE THEIR LOVE CHILDREN. Did I mention? “It’s fine if it’s you?” CAUSE YEAH. Oh and All Might randomly officiating their wedding in their heads like idk. Isn’t it just simpler if I say the whole movie??!

Troubling Signs?: Well these two’s relationship is extremely delicate and while it has non stop soared this year, Deku might not take too kindly to Bakugo almost dying for him. Will they stop pushing each other away? Time will tell.

That’s all for this year folks! Happy Shipping and good luck to everyone next year!

#my hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #bakudeku #izuocha #tododeku #todobaku #DabiHawks #endhawks #KiriBaku #kamijirou #kirimina

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communistkenobi · 2 years

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putting this under a readmore bc I do not want this to leave my circle but please feel free to engage with it

I have a hard time taking a principled stance against harry potter because I feel like if you wanted to be actually principled you would never consume any mcu product ever. like the mcu is literally just an informercial for the US empire. it has no value or meaning outside of that whatsoever. the fact that it can sometimes be entertaining is a feature, not a bug. propaganda has matured with the art of filmmaking, and you would expect modern propaganda films to be much more technically and narratively competent than the propaganda of fifty years ago. and if you wanted to weigh the harm caused by any given media property as a reason not to consume something, the mcu will always win out no matter what. so like i don’t find the argument “don’t consume this because it financially supports bigotry” very compelling in the context of the broader media landscape and most people’s media diets (including my own!).

but then, and this is where my opinion is consciously contradictory, I have zero patience for anybody who puts hogwarts houses in their bio or talks about hp openly. like keep that shit to yourself lol. it’s not even necessarily about the act of consuming hp, but it now acts as a political signifier. it doesn’t matter how many disclaimers you append to your enjoyment of it, the fact of the matter is that proximity to this piece of media carries foul political baggage that you, individually, cannot shed. hp is exceptional in this way because the creator of it has explicitly tied her political project to it. which authors have done in the past, but the difference now is one of scale. so even going beyond the morality of consumption, if you publicly align yourself with it, you are making a political declaration even if you don’t want to. and I don’t want to associate with you! like at this point I almost don’t give a shit if people still like it, just keep it to yourself. public discussion about this should be focusing on the harm jkr is doing, not whether or not you should buy tickets to whatever new dumbass hp movie is coming out. idk

#if u are stupid on this post I will block you <3 #like obviously please feel free to disagree but if you start crytyping in my notes about hp do me a favour and do not do that

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park.

yet another au by me...

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened.

“S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand.

“What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.”

“Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

“Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see.

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife.

Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms.

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them.

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it.

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings.

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea.

You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream.

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch.

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you.

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom.

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose.

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.”

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world.

But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt.

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut.

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime.

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once. He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.”

His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?”

“Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.”

Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand.

“‘I’m Bucky.”

For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.”

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back?

“She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her.

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.”

Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.”

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.”

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-”

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see.

“She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.”

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.”

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth.

“I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention.

“Wanda.”

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face.

“You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.”

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic, and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock.

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.”

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand.

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.”

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie?

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power.

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.”

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?”

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.”

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.”

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different.

It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather.

It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand.

Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

“That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.”

“I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look.

“Are you into herbal healing?”

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?”

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.”

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm.

“Can I ask you something?”

With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”

You frowned. “What girl?”

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.”

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup.

There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes.

If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you.

You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck.

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger.

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was.

She was silent.

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?”

That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-”

“Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember.

“I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-”

She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin.

For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours.

You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it.

You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all.

Wanda.

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace.

“I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.”

The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you.

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”

Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.”

“Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

“A new life will do that to you.”

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were.

She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves.

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.”

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #my fics #witch!wanda #marvel au #witch!au #scarlet witch #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #no idea what to tag this-#wanda x you #lgbt marvel #lgbt

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vrishchikawrites · 3 years

Note

Are you still taking prompts?

Cause if so, I'd love to see a time travel fic where post-canon WWX and LWJ get yeeted back into their younger bodies, and land just before the GC transfer. And Post-Canon WWX - who's had some years of being a part of a loving, supportive family, in a non-toxic, non-abusive environment; and therefore no longer has any misconceptions about how much the Jiangs were not his family - takes one look at JC lying there on the table in the cave after WQ knocked him out (and is now in the middle of prepping for surgery); and just goes, "LOL, yeah; nope.😆 Been there, done that; 10/10, would not recommend.😝 Hey, WQ - change of plans!😎"

(Except, you know, not written like crack. 😉)

Not necessary to include, but a fun idea:

JC gets dragged along to the past as well because he has WWX's GC; so whatever sent them back mistook him for part of WWX and brought him along.

So when he wakes up from the anaesthesia, he freaks out about not having a GC anymore. And WWX has this whole story ready to tell young JC about how, "Oops, sorry; you can't have a new GC after all" - but this is Post-Canon JC; so he knows about the transfer, and knows that this means that WWX decided not to do it again.

Which means he ends up screaming at WWX about, "How dare you not give me your GC!"

So WWX feels exactly zero sympathy.

(Before that happened he was maybe feeling a little bit bad for young JC; because that JC hadn't done anything too bad yet - but he already knew how it would turn out if he went through with it. And he was not giving up his chance to cultivate to immortality with his hubby; just so that JC could Feel Like A Real Man, and go on to murder his way through life again.)

What would be really, really great about this, is if WWX had brought JC to Qinghe or Gusu; or somewhere the other cultivation sects involved in the SSC had gathered, before JC woke up. Planning to leave him there where he would be safe. So when JC wakes up and starts screaming, everybody hears him.

And they're all like, "...WUT."🤤

"You expected him to do what?!?"😲😨😱

So instead of all the sympathy and compassion, etc, that he would have gotten over what happened at LP (that he probably did get the first time), or for losing his GC; basically the entire allied cultivation world as a whole is collectively side-eyeing him.

IDK; I just think it would be really funny.

But mainly, I just want to see WWX a few years post-canon; having the chance to do it all again, and choosing not to go through with the GC transfer. LWJ going with him is because the thought of post-canon LWJ losing his WWX makes me sad; and I want them to stay together. 😋

Post-Canon JC going back and getting stuck with the coreless body he deserved is just for my own catharsis.

(The rest of that idea is simply for the lulz.) 😉

(I decided not to include JC traveling back in time. Hope this works and satisfies you!)

“No, I don’t.” Wei Wuxian sees Wen Qing blink and stare at him while Wen Ning stills in the process of making Jiang Cheng comfortable.

“What?” Wen Qing asks but rethinks it immediately, “No, no need to answer that.” She starts packing away her instruments immediately like she’s glad that Wei Wuxian has changed his mind. He looks at her and feels aching fondness rise in his chest. She must be frustrated that he made her go through all of that trouble and yet she still chooses to move before he can change his mind again.

“What… are we going to tell Jiang-gongzi?” Wen Ning asks tentatively but Wei Wuxian notes the faint look of relief in the boy’s eyes.

“We’ll tell him the treatment wasn't possible,” He says, glancing at his… former shidi. It isn’t an easy decision to make, because he knows Jiang Cheng would suffer for it. A part of him feels like he’s being unnecessarily cruel by denying Jiang Cheng his core.

But he has already paid his debt and it cost countless people their lives. Jiang Cheng’s actions didn’t just lead to the death of the Wens. Lan Zhan had told him about the numerous ‘demonic cultivators’ Jiang Cheng had pursued relentlessly. Even his love wasn’t certain how many people died or were tormented to insanity because of Jiang Cheng’s persistence.

While Wei Wuxian doesn’t intend to let the situation get so out of hand, it is apparent that Jiang Cheng can’t be trusted with power.

He is worried about how Jiang Cheng would react. Wei Wuxian had promised him a core, after all. But whatever happens, a powerless Jiang Cheng is safer for everyone.

“We’ll tell him that rebuilding the core is impossible because Wen Zhuliu destroyed his meridians as well.”

“He has,” Wen Qing points out, “I was about to repair them.”

Wei Wuxian frowns, “And can you repair them still? Without transferring the core?” That would certainly help Jiang Cheng heal faster and accept some spiritual energy transfusions. Wen Qing looks at Jiang Cheng with a frown and nods.

“Wei-gongzi… what changed your mind?” Wen Ning asks as Wen Qing goes to work immediately. Wei Wuxian knows that if he has to help the Wens, he needs to tell them the truth. While Wen Ning would trust him and accept his explanation without too many questions, Wen Qing wouldn’t be so easy.

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, getting his thoughts in order. When he opens them again, both of the Wens are looking at him with frowns.

He grins wryly and spreads his hands, "I have a tale for you, my dear friends."

Jin Guangyao needed to have his last 'hurrah'. He just couldn't leave them be, even as he died. Whatever he did, whatever tool he used, it sent a shockwave of Resentful Energy that would've killed them all.

As always, Wei Wuxian stepped forward to protect people. As always, Lan Wangji stepped forward to protect him.

Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth and changed his plan at the last moment. At first, he wanted to absorb the energy and channel it somewhere else. But with so many people just lingering instead of running, he needed a different solution.

His mind flashed, he saw Jiang Cheng, and decided.

A forbidden array formed.

"I needed something that would use up all of the Resentful Energy and protect everyone, including Lan Zhan."

"So, at the last moment and on the verge of dying, you chose something as improbable as time travel." Wen Qing deadpans. Wen Ning is looking at him with wide eyes. Strangely enough, both look like they believe him. Well, he did mention a few things, personal incidents, that he had no way of knowing if the Wens hadn't told him.

Still.

"I'm not the one for regrets," He says softly as he looks at Jiang Cheng, "But I thought that array was the safest solution. It doesn't harm the current timeline so everyone is safe. Lan Zhan, I know, wouldn't mind following my lead in this." He did regret taking Zewu-jun's brother away from him after such a traumatic event but there really was no other option. Not with Jin Ling so close and so many innocent people in the vicinity.

Wei Wuxian is quite certain that the blast would've destroyed everything around them, including the innocent people around the Guanyin Temple complex.

The siblings exchange glances before Wen Qing returns to Jiang Cheng's side, preparing to work on his meridians, "You're going to change things." She observes, "Save people?"

"Save you and Wen Ning. Save Jiang Yanli. Save innocents, yes."

Wen Qing freezes.

---

Lan Wangji doesn't know what Wei Ying did but he trusts his beloved. When he finds himself in the past, just before the Sunshot Campaign begins and shortly after the fall of the Lotus Pier, he doesn't hesitate.

He knows that his brother is safe and his uncle is managing things at Cloud Recesses. But he also knows that somewhere out there, his beloved is preparing himself for a risky, painful procedure.

Wangji can't let that happen. He thinks back on everything Wen Ning shared with him about the incident, particularly the location of where it occurred. He's probably too late to stop the transfer but perhaps not late enough to stop the Wens from finding Wei Ying.

It takes him days to reach Yiling without the aid of Bichen but he manages and immediately heads towards the approximate location Wen Ning had mentioned.

"Wei Ying," He breathes softly when he spots his beloved shopping for some supplies. He hadn't anticipated finding him so soon but is grateful nonetheless.

Wei Ying is dressed like a peasant and blends in well with the people around him but Wangji can recognize him anywhere.

Dressed discreetly and without his forehead ribbon, Wangji too is inconspicuous. He moves swiftly towards Wei Ying and catches his elbow, eyeing the people in red and white uniform at the far end of the street warily.

"Come." He whispers.

Wei Ying doesn't say a word, just paying the vendor and following Wangji into a more discreet location.

Wangji looks at his beloved's face, drinking in his bright silver eyes and sharp features with acute relief.

"Wei Ying, you… you look well." Strangely so, for someone who has just given up his Golden Core.

Hope stirs in his chest and Wangji reaches for Wei Ying's wrist.

His love's lips quirk in amusement, but Wangji ignores him, focusing on sending his spiritual energy through Wei Ying's meridians.

A strong core pulses in response.

"Wei Ying," Something bright and triumphant burns in his chest and he resists the urge to pull his beloved into a crushing embrace.

He would've supported Wei Ying's decision to give up his core and cultivate with resentful energy again. He knew it wasn't evil or harmful now.

But Wei Ying chose himself. His beloved had finally chosen to save himself.

"Aiya, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying laughs, "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll do something quite shameless and embarra-"

Wangji kisses him.

He cups that precious face, pulls him close, and slides his lips over soft flesh in a tender expression of love he can't contain.

Wei Ying chose himself.

---

Jiang Cheng returns from his trip to the mountain with a thunderous expression on his face.

He disregards Lan Zhan and grabs Wei Wuxian's arm in a tough grip, dragging him away from the crowded tea house. Lan Zhan follows without a word, his expression frosty and eyes on Jiang Cheng.

"Your Grandmaster," He spits, "Is just as useless and worthless as you. All she could do is repair my meridians! My body was too damaged for anything else, she said!"

Wei Wuxian knows Wen Qing wrote the note they left by Jiang Cheng's side but he hadn't known what she had written.

It must've been reasonably convincing for Jiang Cheng to be convinced.

"That's-" He searches his mind to find words that would be appropriately sympathetic. Saying 'that's too bad' would be just rubbing salt on an open wound.

He may dislike Jiang Cheng, but some of the childhood affection still lingers. He doesn't wish to hurt his former shidi.

"I didn't know," He says finally, his heart throbbing in sympathy at Jiang Cheng's devastated expression. He briefly reconsiders his decision but Lan Zhan shifts discreetly by his side and Wei Wuxian remembers why he made that decision in the first place.

Jiang Cheng had been unworthy of the gift he had been given.

His shidi snarls and turns to Lan Zhan, "What are you doing here, Lan er-gonzi," He snarls, "Coming to triumph in our misery?"

Lan Zhan looks at him flatly, "I came to assist Wei Ying."

"Came to assist Wei Ying," Jiang Cheng mocks, his expression tight and furious, "Well, you're welcome to take him away! There's nothing left for him to destroy. Everything is gone. He invited the wrath of the Wens on our heads to protect you and that led to the destruction of my sect. He couldn't even repay that debt. His Grandmaster failed."

Jiang Cheng turns hate-filled eyes towards him, "You are a curse. My father should have left you to rot on the streets!"

"Jiang Wanyin!" Lan Zhan warns but Wei Wuxian places a hand on the Second Jade's arm to halt him.

"I'm taking you to Meishan to be with shijie." Wei Wuxian says calmly, "And then I'll go join the war efforts."

Jiang Cheng sneers before turning his head away, silent.

Wei Wuxian does as he says. He leaves Jiang Cheng in Jiang Yanli's care and heads to Qinghe with Lan Zhan. The war goes differently than before. He manages to kill Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao early, which gives them a big morale boost. But that's the only thing that goes their way for a long time.

"I'm going to use it," He tells Lan Zhan once, when the scales tip dangerously in the Wen's favor.

Lan Zhan studies him before nodding gracefully, "I will help."

There's no way to avoid using his cultivation method, not if he wants to keep people safe. He's more careful and restrained this time and he doesn't create the Yīn Hǔ Fú. But Mo Dao is Mo Dao. It attracts disapproval from people regardless.

Wei Wuxian doesn't care and Lan Zhan stays by his side without paying any heed to the grumblings of his clan. He goes to sleep every night with Lan Zhan's guqin notes in his ear and meditates every morning with the Cleansing purging the Resentful Energy from his body.

With a powerful and active Golden Core, Wei Wuxian can't use Mo Dao liberally without risking Qi Deviation. But he uses enough to help them win the war.

Wei Wuxian successfully retakes Lotus Pier and Yunmeng from the Wens. Jiang Cheng's hatred doesn't diminish and even Jiang Yanli grows distant after a while. Jiang Cheng's suffering and downfall hardens something in his soft shijie.

Wei Wuxian accepts that consequence quietly.

He hands Lotus Pier back to Jiang Cheng and stays on the front lines, leaving most of the freshly recruited disciples behind to protect his former martial siblings. When the war ends, argues to keep the Wen cultivators in better conditions. He makes sure everyone knows how much the Jiangs owe the Wen siblings, and saves the children and elderly.

With Jiang Cheng out of the Cultivation World and Wei Wuxian's reputation as a war hero, saving the Wen remnants is easier than it had been before.

---

Everyone is baffled when Jiang Wanyin names a new head disciple and Wei Wuxian never returns to Yunmeng. People gossip, sect leaders question, and new Jiang disciple flounder.

Neither Jiang Wanyin nor Wei Wuxian confirms it but it is clear to everyone that the Jiang Sect has, foolishly, kicked out its most powerful disciple. YunmengJiang remains wealthy but the Sect's influence diminishes significantly once Wei Wuxian leaves.

Other Sects, big and small, scramble to find Wei Wuxian, ready to offer him a place and get a powerful cultivator in their ranks. Letters pour in promising wealth and prestige.

Wei Wuxian ignores them all and settles in Cloud Recesses. He's content to teach a group of eye-wide Lan ducklings now to deal with resentful energy and limit the risk of Qi Deviation. He takes them on Nighthunts, teaches them real-life lessons, encourages creativity, and becomes a well-loved senior.

New YunmengJiang disciples aren't near as strong as their predecessors without someone to teach them properly.

People gossip and speculate as the years pass. They hint that he is wrong to leave his former sect behind but he doesn't care.

Wei Wuxian has Lan Zhan and Lan Sizhui. Wen Qing and Wen Ning live happily in a small farming village not far from Gusu. They intervene before Jin Guangyao kills Nie Mingjue. They save Lan Xichen from heartache. Jin Ling is born and has both of his parents.

That's all he needs to be happy.

YunmengJiang is no longer his responsibility.

#short prompts #time travel au #wei wuxian #lan wangji #no golden core transfer #anti jiang cheng

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

Text

No Place I'd Rather Be

Nesta can't go home to be with her family for Thanksgiving, but Cassian decides that doesn't mean she needs to be alone.

Warnings: Fluff; Yep...Just Fluff; and Cooking Together - idk, I just feel like that's something I need to warn this fandom about

Word Count: 3,978 | Read on AO3

a/n: Written to make myself feel better. Based off of my current situation, except I have no Cassian, nor any hot, single neighbor who's secretly desperately in love with me. Yes, I'm projecting. It's fine. Fluff makes me feel better. As does writing. And feeling productive. So yay...?

Only edited by Google Docs.

"I know, Fey. I'm sorry."

"It just sucks. I mean, I feel worse for you, but you can't find someone to watch him for even a day?"

Nesta sighed as she listened to her sister, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she spooned a small amount of the new wet food she bought into a bowl.

"I don't have anyone to ask that isn't going away," she explained…again.

Nesta knew Feyre would be the harder sister to tell. That's why she'd called Elain first. Her middle sister was sad, but understanding and accepting. Her youngest, on the other hand…she wasn't great at accepting the things she didn't want to hear.

"What are you going to do on Thursday, then?"

"Monitor Sellyn, as the vet requested. I bought fixings for chicken cutlets with gravy. It's not exactly a Thanksgiving meal, but it's something different, and still includes gravy."

"So you're not even getting a Thanksgiving meal?!"

Nesta exhaled loudly. "No, where would I go? I'm not going to make one for myself."

"But Nesta."

"Look, Feyre-"

She was cut off by a knock at the door that had her groaning.

"I promise you, I want to come," she continued, not hiding the way her voice broke slightly. "This was a really hard decision, but I'm making the right one, I know I am. If I came home, even just for the one day and night, I'd be terrified the entire time. If I could bring Sellyn home I would, but for him, this flares up because of stress. So traveling five hours with him in the car, just to end up in a house with a very hyper dog…even if he is fine now, he likely wouldn't be by the end of the trip."

Another knock. Nesta started to walk toward the door.

"Okay," her sister sighed from the other end of the line. "We'll miss you."

"I'm going to miss you all too. A lot. But I'll be back for Christmas, I promise."

Placing her hand on the phone to hold it to her, Nesta used her other one to open the door, rolling her eyes at the man before her. "Feyre, I have to go. Someone's at my door. We'll FaceTime on Thursday, okay?"

"Of course! Give Sellyn a hug for me!" And with that Nesta was able to hang up her phone, but sadly no relief came as she looked into a pair of sparkling hazel eyes.

"Hiya, Nes."

"I told you not to call me that." Her gaze narrowed as she looked Cassian over, leaning her body against the open door to ensure he didn't think she was inviting him in.

He was always doing this, finding a reason to stop by. Nesta was convinced he would steal some of her mail just to claim the mailman delivered it to the wrong house 'again'. How many times could that really happen, even if he was just next door?

Cassian flashed her a charming smile, and she pretended it didn't send her heart thundering. "Isn't Feyre your sister?"

How did he remember that? They'd met for a total of two seconds the day Nesta moved in over six months before, her sisters too nosy not to help her.

"…Yeah?"

His head tilted slightly in confusion. "I thought you were going home for Thanksgiving? Why would you need to FaceTime her?"

"Eavesdrop much?"

Cassian chuckled softly, his eyes lit with amusement in a way that brightened his entire face. Nesta did her best to school her features so she wouldn't look like she was staring.

"You're the one that answered the door before ending your phone conversation."

"Someone wouldn't stop banging on it," she countered, Cassian's smile growing wider. She could've sworn she saw the double entendre flash across his eyes. But he didn't respond. Just waited for her to answer his question. "I'm not going home anymore. Sellyn - my cat - it's a long story, but I need to monitor him. We had a bit of a scare over the weekend that he might not be well, so I just have to keep an eye on him and make sure everything's normal. But I can't bring him home, because it would just stress him out more."

"That really sucks, Nes." Her eyes narrowed, pulling a "-ta" from Cassian far too late for him to actually claim he was saying her full name.

"It does," she agreed. She pulled her lips tight to keep her face from fully falling. Based on how his own gaze softened, Nesta knew he could see right through it. "I'm guessing you're going home?"

Cassian inhaled sharply. "That's the current plan."

"And is that why you came pounding on my door?"

"Uh, no," he laughed, bringing a hand up to scratch his head. She couldn't help herself from following the movement of his near-shoulder-length hair as he did. "Mailman did it again." He held up an envelope that clearly had her name and address written on it.

Snatching it out of his hand, she groaned, "I swear, if I ever see him I'm going to have to speak with him about this."

"That's not necessary. I'll do it." Nesta quirked an eyebrow up at him, the disbelief plain on her face. "I will, I promise! I know Bal, I'll have the chance before you do."

"If you know him, how does this keep happening?" With the tone she used, it sounded far more like an accusation than an actual question.

Cassian stood there, a deer in the headlights. "Uh…um…th-that's a great question. Maybe he's worried about you."

"What?"

"You know, living alone, working from home. Maybe he wants to make sure someone is checking on you daily."

She felt her teeth begin to grind. "I do have other people in my life, Cassian. Plenty of people I speak to on a daily basis, people I see regularly."

"I know that. I was just making a guess about Bal." He raised his hands in surrender and Nesta rolled her eyes, huffing out a small laugh.

"Well, thank you for…" She looked down and let out a sigh. "My spam."

"Any time," he beamed, waving brightly at her as she slammed the door in his face.

Nesta only allowed herself to smile softly once the door was locked and she was heading back into the townhouse. Just in case he could see through wood.

A loud pounding startled Nesta from sleep, shooting her into a sitting position. She glanced briefly at her phone to see it was too early for her to be waking up on a holiday she was no longer excited for.

Dragging herself from her warm mattress, she stomped down the stairs and toward her door, pulling it open sharply with a scowl. Which only deepened when she laid eyes on a far-too-cheery Cassian standing before her, filled, reusable shopping bags in tow.

"Good morning, Nesta!" He greeted her at a decibel slightly louder than she was ready to hear and it had her face scrunching.

"What are you doing here?" she rasped.

Cassian grinned down at her and pushed in, taking advantage of her groggy state to get past her defenses. "Happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

"Cassian."

He moved into the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter and sighing as he then turned to face her. "No one should be alone on Thanksgiving."

Finally waking up enough to see detail, Nesta looked him and his hoard over. The bags were brimming with vegetables, cans, boxes, pots, and she was sure she saw the covered legs of a raw turkey. And Cassian stood in front of them, leaning against the counter, his muscular arms crossed over his flannel-clad chest.

Her gaze moved to his face, so hard-lined and perfect it was as if he were carved from the elements by the gods themselves. Yet his eyes were soft, tentative…nervous. And she wondered if this meant more to him than he was letting on.

"What about you?" she finally asked, her voice becoming clearer with each word she spoke.

He chuckled slightly, bringing one hand up to brush through those onyx locks. The sun shone through the window on them, revealing the slightest red and gold hues to his hair, barely noticeable except where he had the tiniest of waves. "I'll be with you. I won't be alone, either."

"No." She huffed out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. "I mean, what about your plans? Your family? Won't they be annoyed at you skipping out on them? Wouldn't you rather be there?"

"Oh, they're annoyed as all hell," he beamed, standing up straight and taking a step toward her. "But no, there's no place I'd rather be than here."

Nesta froze at his words, the tone. Intense and certain, but with a hint of pleading beneath the confident timbre. She met his eyes, losing herself for a moment in the swirling brown and green. In the care that shimmered in those golden flecks, and the desire she thought she saw flash across his face.

"Besides," he added, flicking her nose, "you've never tried my cornbread stuffing. And we can't have that."

She couldn't help but laugh softly at the comment, her heart thundering as she saw Cassian's face light up. But she schooled her features soon enough, straightening her back and lifting her chin. "Fine, you can stay. But you're cleaning up whatever mess you make. And, you should know, I can't cook."

His smile only widened, revealing those perfectly straight teeth. "We'll see about that." His eyes flicked down, rolling over her body, darkening for a moment as he took in her little sleep shorts and tight tank top. Thank goodness she'd worn a black one to bed the night before, all her white ones put her nipples on full display. "But first, I think you might want to get changed."

"I'd like to still be sleeping," she groused.

"Too late for that now!"

She gave him a grimace and then pivoted on her heel, heading back upstairs.

Nesta took her sweet time going through her morning routine. Brushing her teeth, washing her face, moisturizing, and more. She even put on a bit of makeup. For the holiday, of course. Then she pulled on a light cream sweater and tucked it into a straight, plaid mini skirt, purposefully choosing one with autumn-style colors. So no one could complain about her not 'being in the spirit', which just seemed like a Cassian thing to do.

If the skirt happened to leave a fair showing of her legs - well, that was just a coincidence. As was her choice of brown, heeled booties that elongated her legs. They just went perfectly with the outfit.

Still, she noticed the way Cassian's eyes snapped straight to her bare legs when she came back down, lingering on the spot where the slit revealed just a slightly higher part of her thigh. It had her smiling to herself as she went over to the fridge and pulled out the open can of wet food. She spooned out the remainder of it and placed the little bowl next to Sellyn's dry food automatic feeder. His breakfast serving of that was already completely gone, the little glutton.

The second she placed the food down, a large ball of black fluff came trotting in, heading straight for the new food. He didn't take long at all to adjust to the new half-wet-half-dry diet Nesta was putting him on, attempting to force more hydration than he'd currently been getting. Another reason she had to stay in Velaris. She couldn't feed him his wet food if she wasn't there.

She looked back at Cassian to see he'd turned around to continue working on the turkey that he had, in fact, purchased for just the two of them. A whole turkey.

Peeking around his arm, she noticed that the other was currently digging around inside the bird. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Ha!" he exclaimed, yanking his arm out of the bird and pulling with it something curved and red. He reached back in and grabbed out a bag with a few different bits that looked like organs. "Gotta take out the giblets before you cook the turkey."

"Do I even want to know what those are?"

"Heart, liver, and gizzard." Nesta made a face that had Cassian laughing. "Yeah, not my style either. But a lot of people cook them and feed them to their pets as a treat. Sellyn might enjoy them."

Her eyes flicked to the feasting cat, her gaze softening as she did. "Might be nice to give him a Thanksgiving, too."

"I'll start to boil them in a bit," he offered, grinning widely at her in a way that had butterflies begin to flutter about her stomach.

She nodded and looked away, hoping to gain some semblance of control on herself. "So, you wanted me to help?"

His smile grew impossibly larger, and when Nesta looked back up she noticed a dimple in his cheek she'd never seen before. "Most definitely! But, first, you'll need an apron."

Nesta furrowed her brows, suddenly realizing he was already wearing one. Hanging over his chest, keeping his open shirt in place and all but hiding the grey shirt beneath, was a black apron that said, "All This…And I Can Cook".

"How humble."

"Just a reminder for you," he teased, pulling out a white apron as he stepped behind Nesta. He draped it over her neck and then tied the straps around her waist. Doing her best not to think about how close he was, or how her skin seemed to spark to live when his fingers brushed hers at her collar, she looked down to see her own apron also had a quote.

"Bitch, I am the secret ingredient," she read, more mumbling it to herself.

Cassian chuckled all the same, leaning in, his head now next to hers, his mouth right by her ear. "I always thought so." His voice was a soft purr, and for a moment Nesta's mind went completely blank as something began to heat deep inside her.

She coughed to do something, a small attempt to center herself, and then stepped to the side, smirking up at him. "Do I even want to know how many aprons like this you have?"

"No." He flashed her a child-like smile and went back to the turkey, which was sitting on a roasting rack she certainly didn't own. "There's a pot full of potatoes by the sink. Once they're peeled, put them back in the pot, fill it, and we'll boil them."

"Okay." She nodded and went over to the sink, beginning to do just that as Cassian prepped the turkey, got it in the oven, and then began working on other side dishes.

He was a machine. By the time Nesta had peeled the last potato, Cassian had already made the stuffing, which was now waiting in a pan to be baked, caramelized sugar for candied yams, and was now cutting up brussels sprouts and carrots for a roasted vegetables dish he was working on.

"Oh, let me get that for you," he said, wiping his hands on his apron and walking toward her when he noticed she'd finished and filled the pot with water.

"Cassian, this is a lot of food." She looked at the slowly filling stove top, her eyes wide. "I'm sure you eat a lot, but this is too much for us."

He simply smiled at her, a breath laugh escaping his lips. "It's not Thanksgiving if you don't have too many leftovers, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that."

"So many rules," he teased, walking back over to her once he placed the pot down. "Can't call you Nes." She took a step back as he moved closer. "Can't call you sweetheart." Another step toward her and another step back had Nesta with her back at the counter. Cassian's hands braced the edge of it on either side of her, his body practically enveloping hers. "It's like you don't want me to talk to you."

"Took you long enough to catch on." She looked straight into his eyes as she said it, only the slightest quirk of her lip giving her away.

Cassian saw it, his eyes flicking between hers and her mouth. She could feel him trembling slightly, as if he were holding himself back from something…from leaning in and brushing his lips against hers. And for a moment, Nesta hoped his restraint would fail.

Instead, he pulled back and huffed out a small laugh. "You'd miss me too much."

"You're awfully full of yourself," Nesta sighed, following him as he lit the burner beneath the potatoes and then went back to his vegetables. She cleared off the counter space next to him and hopped up, sitting and watching him as he chopped up thick slices of carrots to add to the halved brussels sprouts.

"It's well deserved," he shot back, pointing to the words on his apron.

She watched him in silence for a little while, her eyes trailing the taut muscles of his forearm as he sliced through the vegetables. She appreciated the display, how he kept his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the way the whorled black tattoos peeked out from his sleeves on both arms. The silence was comfortable, but still Nesta found her cheeks heating as she watched him work. As her eyes began to drift up his large bicep toward his face. He had his hair half pulled back in a bun, but wisps had come free as he cooked. She slid her hands beneath her thighs to keep herself from lifting one and brushing some of the strands back.

Nesta was so focused on him, she didn't hear the timer go off, didn't realize the potatoes were done until Cassian's head snapped up, his gaze immediately finding hers, catching her staring at him.

Her blush only grew at that, at the knowing smile he flashed her before he went over to the stove with a fork and poked one of the potatoes.

"They're ready." He grabbed two oven mitts that were also definitely not Nesta's, and brought the pot to the sink, draining it before putting it back on the now-unlit burner. He grabbed out an odd looking tool from one of his bags. It was a similar material to normal cooking utensils, but at the end was a flat, wide oval with a bunch of holes.

"What do I do with that?" she asked, jumping down from the counter and gliding toward him.

"You mash." Nesta lifted an eyebrow at him as she took the utensil. "You'll also likely need this, to hold the bot," he added, handing her one of the oven mitts. She took it and slid it onto her left hand as she walked toward the pot.

She held the tool in her fist, thumb up, and went to press it into the potatoes, only to be stopped by Cassian.

"Here, let me help," he offered, laughing gently. "That'll work, but this will be easier."

He stepped up behind her, her back flush against his front as he placed her left hand on the side of the pot, resting his on top of hers. And then he adjusted her grip on the masher so that it was more like she were holding a shovel, his right hand again on hers.

So much contact with him had Nesta inhaling sharply, her skin igniting beneath hers.

Using their left hands, he tilted the pot a bit toward them and pushed the masher into the potatoes, twisting it slightly as he did.

"You can mash like crazy at the beginning, but this way, as the potatoes become smoother, it'll be easier to find and get rid of the lumps," he explained softly, his breath caressing her neck.

Nesta nodded, barely understanding the words he'd said. She knew she should be stepping away from him, telling him he could have easily just explained it to her without so much touching. But, she found she liked it too much to care, too much to stop herself from leaning back into him a bit as he continued to lead her hand.

She felt dizzy, almost faint from the contact, from being held so close to him. And she was sure Cassian was just as affected. The way he pressed closer to her, how his movements slowed and his breathing deepened.

Turning her face, she found his right next to her head, his eyes already on her, full of something she couldn't quite read, but it had her heart pounding like a drum. This time it was her eyes that looked down to his lips and then back up to his gaze, and she could feel the desperation in her body to lean toward him. But before she did, he coughed, snapping them both out of whatever trance they'd slipped into.

"Th-that should…" he rasped, his voice cracking. "That should help." He nodded and went back to whatever preparation he was doing for the vegetable medley.

Soon enough, all the side dishes were prepared and being placed in the smaller oven or waiting on the big one, and as Cassian cleaned up the counters, Nesta began to set her small table. She didn't have much, just day-to-day flatware, but she did her best to make it look nice, like a true celebration. She even found a pumpkin spice scented candle that she placed on the table, not that it was needed. Her house had never smelled so good before.

Once that was done, she removed her apron and settled on her couch, Cassian telling her he could handle the rest. So she pulled out her current book and began to read, Sellyn joining her, resting his head on her lap.

It was another hour before Cassian was calling her in, letting her know he was about to start carving the turkey.

She smiled to herself, shutting her book as she gave Sellyn one final scratch around the ears. She kissed his head softly and then ignored his protests as she moved her thigh out from under him before standing and joining Cassian in the kitchen.

"Oh my gosh," she sighed, coming in to see all the dishes being pulled out of the oven, the turkey already out on the counter. "Cassian, this all looks so amazing."

He looked over at her, a massive grin on his face that had Nesta smiling back at him. "I'm glad you think so. Should taste just as good."

Placing the final pan on the stove, he removed his mitts and started toward the turkey, but Nesta couldn't help herself. She stopped him before he picked up the carving knife, pulling him to face her.

As soon as he did, she gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, lifting herself onto her toes and pressing her lips to his.

Cassian froze in front of her, just long enough for doubt to creep into Nesta's mind before he was kissing her back, his arms slipping around her waist and pulling her closer.

She pulled away after another moment, only far enough so that she could look up into his eyes as she said, "Thank you, Cassian. For all of this. I-I can't tell you what it means to me."

A soft smile spread on his lips as he kissed her again, gentle and quick before he rested his forehead against hers. "I told you, there's no place I'd rather be."

"Why is that?" she breathed, savoring the feel of his nose brushing against hers.

"Because…there's nothing I'm more grateful for this year than the day you moved in next door."

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @sv0430 @confusedfandomslut @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @whoreforgwynriel @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth

If you'd like to be added to my Nessian or general tag list, please let me know!

P.S. My cat is fine. He just has had a urinary tract inflammation before, and once they have them once, they can get them again more easily. We had a scare over the weekend where he didn't pee for about 30 hours. But he did before I could bring him to the vet (my cousin, also a vet, said I could hold off until the next day when they'd be open). So vet just wants me to monitor him. He's still not super regular, and being picky about his new wet food, but even over the weekend he was happy and energetic and playful, so likely just overreacting, but I'm anxious. Couldn't bring him home (my parents have two dogs and my sister is bringing hers), didn't have anyone to stay with him overnight (as if that wouldn't be stressful), so here I am, not at Thanksgiving with my family and stuffing my face full of turkey, potatoes, and candied yams, all because if I did go home I'd spend the entire time terrified I'd come home to find out there was something wrong with him, since things can shift rather quickly with this, and I'd be gone for over 24 hours.

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Nobody Left Behind

Prompt: So I don't know if you're taking requests? But I just watched Lilo and Stitch for the first time since I got into TSS and I've adopted the headcanon that it is Remus's *favorite* movie (and he's memorized the script) and I love your writing and I'd love to see something angsty involving Remus feeling lonely/unloved by his brother, and maybe Lilo and Stitch is involved somehow. IDK, go wild. (and feel free to ignore this if you aren't taking requests) <3 - anon

it is Le Fluff™ hours my good bitches

Read on Ao3

Warnings: Remus has some abandonment issues, but it’s not too much

Pairings: it is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count: 2935

Ohana means family.

Family.

FamILY.

What a weird word.

Sometimes it’s the people you’re born with. Well, not ‘with,’ not necessarily, but the people you are born to. A mother, a father, a sister, a brother. Sometimes two mothers, sometimes two fathers, sometimes a different parent. Sometimes two sisters, sometimes two brothers, sometimes a different sibling. Sometimes a mess of assorted people that all share the same blood. A family.

Remus wasn’t born.

He was made though, crafted and shaped and born out of the swirling chaos of a child’s mind that didn’t understand the world well enough without other people to help. He remembers getting cobbled together from scraps of thoughts and feelings and morphing them into limbs, into features, into something that vaguely resembled the body of the child he was made to fit. Not the ‘fitting’ was ever his job.

Just his brother’s.

Is his brother his family?

By all accounts he should be, right? A brother is one of those people that are traditionally part of the ‘family’ group, right, someone to laugh with, cry with, fight with, live with. But is Roman really his…brother?

That’s what they decided to call themselves because nothing else worked. They weren’t really brothers, they were halves. But they weren’t really halves because there was never a whole to begin with.

The King wasn’t a ‘whole,’ he was…well, he was the King. Half of a king is not a prince. Half of a king is not a duke.

Half of a king is a mess of blood and bones and viscera dripping off of the end of a Morningstar in the middle of the night when only a destroyed facsimile makes the insanity bleed away just enough to breathe again.

The closest thing to twins, is what they decided on eventually. They’re twins. One light, one dark. One that marches boldly into danger to confront the wickedness of the world, one that dwells in the shadows and cackles with the demons nipping at his heels. One that loves, one that isn’t loved.

Sure, they had some things in common. They both loved to fight, hence the scars and the bruises and the wounds that would never, ever heal, the distrust that would never be fixed ever, because the urge to sink their teeth into each other’s necks and rip never went away. They both loved to make, Roman the peaceful lies he tells himself to make up for the gaping wounds Remus leaves as he carves his perfectly tailored destruction. They both love Disney.

Roman’s made it part of his whole deal as the Prince, he loves Disney. He bursts into song every chance he gets, drags the others in until the Mindscape rings with joyful song and there’s nowhere left for any sadness or darkness. He takes his lessons from it, models himself using the traits of the characters he admires most. Cultivates his art of storytelling, perfect to a tee.

Remus loves Disney too. Loves how easy it is to twist the lens to distort the image just enough to let the darker parts of the Imagination run wild. What is the real implication of never growing old, never understanding what it means to die? What kind of person curses a ten-year-old boy for being cautious about who he answers the door to? What could the story have been if the prince never comes to save the day?

When they were smaller it was fine. When they were still getting used to the fact that they weren’t King anymore, they used to sit and watch so many Disney movies. Roman’s favorite was always changing, one week it was Beauty and the Beast, then it was Mulan, then it was Cinderella, it never stayed the same.

Remus’s was always Lilo and Stitch.

Roman never understood it, said it was boring, there wasn’t a prince, there wasn’t anything exciting. Remus said that aliens were plenty exciting, thank you very much.

But they would always watch it. The King wasn’t there anymore, but the prince and the Duke were.

…when they were smaller, there was one time where the prince wasn’t there at all.

Remus remembers waking up one day and feeling like he was being Split all over again. The maggots in his bones reached their awful little mouths into his heart and pulled, yanking him all the way across the bed and to the door, howling and screaming for his twin.

Only to be met with a blank wall.

He remembers howling at the top of his lungs until Janus had rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him and telling him shh, be quiet, hush now, you’re alright, you’re not hurt. And when he couldn’t explain that he was hurt, half of him was missing, Remus needed to go find him, Janus’s mouth had hardened into a thin line and told him that there wasn’t anything to worry about.

He remembers thinking that was a lie.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a lie.

Roman was fine.

Roman was more than fine, because Roman had a family.

Roman had Patton, who is the actual manifestation of sunshine and rainbows and loved so much it almost burns. The darkness that wrapped around Remus’s corner of the Imagination screeched and hissed at the very idea of being loved that much, even as part of him strained with all its might to get to it. But Patton would never set foot near this side of the Mindscape.

Roman had Logan, who represents everything true about the Mindscape, about Thomas, about the world. The reality of things that would never let anything Remus created make it anywhere close to anything important because it was dangerous, it was hurtful, and it was wrong. Logan wouldn’t want anything to do with something so useless.

And that was okay. Because Roman may have been gone but Remus wasn’t alone. Remus had Virgil, who lived with fear soaking every fiber of his being. Remus had Janus, who wrapped himself in darkness and obscurity and laughed.

But then Virgil left. And now Roman had Virgil, who used Thomas’s anxieties to keep him safe, to help Roman and the others figure out what to do, how to take care of everybody, and how to make the darkness go away. And Virgil would never willingly sink himself back into the darkness when he’d spent so long clawing himself out of it.

But that was okay, because Remus had Janus. Janus, who plotted and schemed and smirked at how easily the others were pulled along by his strings, luring them deeper and deeper as Remus readied his Morningstar for the trap to be sprung.

But then they sprung the trap and everything went wrong.

Roman didn’t want to fight. He just…he let Remus knock him out and didn’t show up again except to scoff and say he didn’t like him.

And that was…wrong.

Because Roman wasn’t supposed to like him but he was never only supposed to not like him. Roman was supposed to declare that he wasn’t welcome and try and slash him with his sword. Roman was supposed to try and banish him from the Mindscape and spit insults at him until he left, cackling all the while. Roman was supposed to hate him.

But Roman didn’t hate him, he just…he just said he didn’t like him.

But that was okay, because Janus could just come up with a better plan with him this time. They could do it properly, and Roman would hate him again and it would be back to normal.

But then Janus left. And now Roman has Janus, who keeps his eyes where the prince’s aren’t, when he can’t see what’s happening or he can’t bear to look, to help Roman figure out what to do when what seems to be happening isn’t anything that the prince is used to dealing with. And Janus would never willingly step away from a place that finally accepted him.

Roman has them now. Roman has people that chose him. Roman’s family chose him. He chose them. They chose each other.

Remus’s grip on his Morningstar slackens and the thing falls to the ground with a heavy clunk. He moves numbly through his room until he can fall to his knees on his bed.

He just came from the living room. They were all there. Roman was talking with Logan, ranting about some new show they were both watching. Janus was in the kitchen with Patton, making something for dinner that everyone—well, almost everyone—could eat. Virgil was on the back of the couch, reaching out for Roman’s shoulder every once in a while.

Remus had waited behind the couch. For someone to sit down, for someone to see him and shriek, or even maybe—just maybe—for someone to ask where he was.

But no.

Patton had come over and gently ruffled Virgil’s hair, saying that dinner was ready. Logan and Roman had moved into the kitchen, demanding Janus’s attention and pulling him into their conversation. Virgil had murmured a quiet thank you and Roman had asked him for what?

“Y’know,” Virgil had said, “for…this.”

“Of course,” Roman had laughed, the soft rustle of fabric as he probably pulled the emo in for a hug—what did those feel like?— “I should be thanking you?”

“What for, kiddo?”

“I dunno, it just…feels like it’s been forever since we’ve all sat down for dinner together.”

Remus’s chest had started to hurt.

“The whole family.”

The whole family.

Remus’s eyes well up with stubborn tears and he angrily swipes them away, baring his teeth at the memory and focusing intently on the things on the bed. Each hand-stitched, each carefully kept clean.

His family.

He reaches out with a shaking hand and tucks the blue frog plushie into the crook of his arm, crawling into the middle of the bed and balancing the purple spider on his shoulder. His hands keep shaking as he wraps the long yellow snake securely around his neck, clutching the head under his chin and nuzzling it protectively. The dark blue cat he holds in his other hand, careful not to tear its tie as he scrunches in on himself.

Wait.

Where is it?

No, no, no, no—

Remus growls, placing all of his family gently on the floor before all but tearing at his sheets. Where is it, where is it, where is it—his heartbeat starts to rise as his search grows more frantic, where is it, where is it—

The slightest little puff of red hair and he howls, lunging for it and sweeping it into his lap. He pauses to make sure the lion’s crown didn’t fall off and sighs when he sees it still in place. He sets the lion between his legs and leans over, adjusting everyone back into place and scrunching himself into a ball again. He rubs his nose against the lion’s fur and nuzzles into the soft fabric.

He’d never be able to forgive himself if he lost them.

Because Ohana means family.

Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.

——————————————————

There’s a knock on his door.

Why is someone knocking on his door?

They knock again.

Remus looks up, carefully butting the spider out of the way with his head and sitting up. The snake hangs off his shoulder and he lets it, only missing its warmth once the knock sounds again.

The frog and the cat watch him warily as he climbs out of bed, the lion clutched in his hand.

The door squeaks slightly as he opens it.

“So, I’ve got popcorn, I found the weird gummy snakes, and they had this chocolate-covered bacon which we have to try—Remus?”

Roman?

Roman stands there, his arms full of snacks and blankets, his head tilted. He glances behind Remus—probably to check something or other—and then back at him.

“Remus? Are you okay?”

“Why are you here?” Roman doesn’t like him.

“It’s movie night, Re, of course, I’m here.” Roman chuckles nervously before taking in his tear-stained face. “Hey, Re, what’s going on? Are you okay? Can I come in?”

Why is Roman here? Roman has his family, what is he doing here? With Remus?

“Remus—“ oh, right, Roman’s talking to him—why is Roman talking to him?—in a soft voice now— “Remus, hey, look at me.”

Remus blinks. Oh. Roman looks concerned now, he’s reaching for him.

“Hey,” he murmurs as he ruffles Remus’s hair, “what’s going on? Have you been crying?”

Remus nods dumbly.

“I’m sorry, Re, can I help?”

Help? Why does Roman want to help?

Oh, he’s waiting for an answer.

“…sure.”

“Thank you,” Roman says softly, “can I come in?”

Remus steps aside wordlessly and Roman walks in, pausing when he sees the rest of Remus’s family on the bed.

“Did you make them?”

Something dark twists in Remus’s chest as he sees Roman reach for the spider.

“Don’t.”

Roman backs off, stepping back as Remus snatches up his family and cradles them in his lap, glaring at Roman and curling up on the bed.

“I won’t, Re, I’m sorry,” Roman says, still speaking softly, “can I sit?”

“…floor.”

Roman sits on the floor, setting aside the blankets and snacks, looking up at him. He still looks concerned. Why? Roman doesn’t like him.

“Why weren’t you at dinner,” he asks gently, “I was worried.”

Worried? About him? Remus snorts.

“You had your whole family there,” he spits, “why would you worry?”

“But you weren’t there,” Roman says like that makes any difference, “so I was worried.”

Remus shakes his head. Roman doesn’t get it. Roman doesn’t worry about him, he worries about other things. But if Roman wants to know why he wasn’t at dinner, he’ll tell him.

“I was with my family.”

Roman’s brow furrows as he glances around again. “…your family?”

Remus huddles protectively around his family. “Yes. My family.”

Roman’s eyes widen as he takes in Remus’s posture and how he reacted when Roman asked about them earlier.

“…are they your family, Remus?”

“Yes.” He holds them tighter. “I chose them. They won’t leave me. They won’t forget me. That’s what family means.”

Something crosses Roman’s face and he lets out a wounded noise. Wait. Are they fighting?

“Wait, Remus,” he murmurs, rising up to his knees, “did you—did you think we forgot you?”

“You did forget me.”

“I’m sorry, Remus, I would’ve come to look for you, but I thought—“ Roman shakes his head— “no, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should’ve come got you, Re, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

Oh.

“…you didn’t?”

Roman shakes his head furiously. “No, Remus, I promise. I never meant to leave you.”

“But everybody leaves me.”

If possible, Roman’s eyes are now wider and he scrambles for the edge of the bed. “What do you mean, Remus, what do you mean everybody leaves you?”

“You left. Virgil left. Janus left. Everybody left.” The lion’s mane brushes against his lips as he bows his head. “But not them. They won’t leave me.”

“Oh, Remus—“

Something big lunges at him and Remus whimpers, he doesn’t have his Morningstar, he doesn’t want to fight, he doesn’t—he doesn’t—

What’s happening? He feels warm and he’s being squished and Roman is pressing himself against him and what—what—

“What’re you doing?”

“It’s a hug, Remus,” comes Roman’s voice, slightly muffled, from over his shoulder, “I’m hugging you.”

Oh.

“R-Ro?”

“Yeah, Re, I’m here, I’m right here, I won’t forget you, I won’t leave you behind, you’re my brother, you’re my family, I choose you.” Roman’s grip tightens on him and Remus just about gasps. “I choose you and I want you and I like you.”

Roman…Roman likes him?

Roman chooses him?

Roman won’t…leave?

“No, Remus,” Roman promises as he cautiously asks, “I won’t leave. Not unless you want me to.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s it.

Remus throws his arms around his twin and sobs, cries an entire ocean of tears into his brother’s shoulder because he’s here and he cares and he chose Remus. The darkness shudders as that small part of him surges forward, into Roman’s chest, finding a home in the prince’s heart and languishing in the warmth there.

“I’m right here, Re,” Roman murmurs, stroking up and down his back, “right here, I’ve got you.”

The snake drapes itself cautiously over Roman’s shoulder, the spider taking up watch on his knee. The cat and the frog stare at him, making sure he isn’t lying, that he won’t change his mind. The lion, sandwiched between them, feels the reassuring rumble from Roman’s chest and purrs.

After a long, long time, Remus pulls back a little and scuffs a hand over his nose.

“…did you say something about chocolate-covered bacon?”

Roman’s smile lights up.

“Let’s put on Lilo and Stitch and we’ll try it.”

Ohana means family.

Family means no one gets left behind.

Or forgotten.

General Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo @cerulean-watermelon @puffed-up-bees

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #remus sanders #roman sanders #they're the main focus #creativitwins

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

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second chance x damon albarn

i'm surprised i haven't written anything about dilf damon yet bc i've been so obsessed with him recently wtf. anyways enjoy x

i might do a second part to this, idk yet tho

Pairing: dilf damon x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 2.786

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Do you want to come over?” I abruptly asked, the silence pouring through the line deafening my ears as my fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt. The desperation and moment that led to me ringing my ex-boyfriend at what was nearing eight in the evening seemed as though it was a fever dream, the words rolling off my tongue so delicately out of apprehension only a fragment of that trance. In all honesty, I had no idea as to why I rang Damon, or to what extent the string of thoughts guided me towards the action of calling - we had been broken up for around a year, and it came as a much larger shock that I was able to muster the amount of courage to tap his contact on my phone and attentively listen to the thunderous rings as the landlines attempted to connect, instead of quickly shutting the phone off before he was able to receive a missed call alert.

“Uh, um - are you sure?” he questioned, the stutter escaping his mouth insinuated that he was just as dazed at my sudden offer as me, the demeanour of his voice accentuating the idea that he was entirely finished with the ephemeral chapter of his life which had me intertwined inside as his partner; that he had gotten over me quicker than the momentary period our relationship lasted. My heart sank, realising how indigent I sounded, as if I had never gotten over him throughout our time apart - which I did, learning to live with myself was easier than I had thought it was going to be; the weeks leading up to the breakup stemming from the distance we shared apart due to Damon consistently being on tour and never providing enough time for me, for us, to consider one another as more than romantically acquainted, though that didn’t mean the gap in my heart had been sealed shut, it was simply brimmed with other, unspecial fragments of things which could only distract the thought of him for so long, until I’d discover myself adventuring for something else to hyperfixate my thoughts upon, though he always returned.

“Yeah…” My voice trailed off, so quiet that I struggled to sustain the volume. Though we had only just spoken, the trance that he had obtained over me for all those months we were with one accord, returned in an instant, having the same rush that a recollection of memories, pastimes that were once forgotten, crumbled to dust, had been reborn; ignited into a new bloom in the height of a harvest, resulting in the scolding of yourself upon how you granted the ability to forget such a thing. It seemed as if all those thoughts, ideations convinced to the point that I had gotten over him, were myriads of masks attempting to say it enough to believe it. Without a doubt, I had never overcome the strains of the acquaintance we shared - and I could only hope he felt the same way.

I heard his throat clear itself before his voice echoed through the telephone speakers once again. “Alright… I’ll be there in a bit.” he mumbled, those words bringing a soft, yet apprehensive grin to my lips. I had no idea what I was doing, or why, but it felt right.

It felt as if only the sum of a few minutes passed when I heard a distinguishable knock on the door; one that had not rang through my ears for an interminable amount of time, one that was able to send me months back in time to a period where he had significantly been a figurehead dictating the story. As I jolted up to answer the door, it felt as if things were normal again, back to how they used to be so many nights previous; me waiting for him to come home after he spent a long day at the recording studio, crafting what could only be assumed was the pure essence of talent, unlocking the door to allow my arms to envelop into an embrace cherished with affection and warmth, proving he longed to have my presence just as much as I craved his. Once my eyes met the sight of him, my heart dropped at the overwhelming feeling of my reminiscing about what once was, the nostalgia for a moment so authentically shaped with what could only be described as true love, my body yearning to relish in the sensation of his arms protectively wrapped around my body, a feeling which could only fulfill one’s heart with all that it desires. "Hi..." I trailed off, stunned by how similar, yet different his appearance was from when we last saw one another. His hair had the same shape, though it seemed a little shorter, his eyebags still prominent on his features, though it seemed as if they had sagged down slightly, posing the idea of whether he had been sleeping alright. His torso still adorned shirts with dark colours, amplified with one of his leather jackets which only made me more attracted to him. Widening the door, he set foot into the apartment, nodding his head lightly as a greeting. Although I was very elated to the fact that he was in my apartment, it felt eerie having him back here after so long, stepping foot into the space that was once served merely as a homely and secure space where we both could simply live and enjoy our time together, no distractions included.

Once I had followed him into the living space, he took a seat onto the couch facing the television. I attempted to make my footsteps omit as little noise as possible, as if to avoid damaging the awkward silence that had been shared between the pair of us. It went without saying that neither of us knew how to break the ice, or where this was going to head. One could only hope that the outcome of this meeting was positive. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, ushering over to the cabinet adjacent to the television, supplied with all sorts of alcoholic beverages in which I had not touched, simply there as a point of manners to offer when somebody had come over. “White?” I offered, pulling out an almost-full bottle of white wine. I knew he hated it.

"You know I’ve always hated white." he mumbled, a small smile playing upon his lips. Something about that little grin plastered on his lips made my stomach flip and turn, welcoming a swarm of butterflies to accentuate the nervous pit that had formed within myself. The intense feelings reminded me of the same bewilderment your body undergoes during the first date; there is such a raw attraction to somebody that you know far too little about, but you are so hypnotised by their presence it is as if they’re the only thing in the world that matters, to the point that they obnoxiously overtake your mind, every little thought occupied with their name, wondering whether they may like such and such, like an infection spreading without you knowing such cure for it. The atmosphere was intense, carrying the same ambience of two strangers meeting for the first time in an isolated space, though there was also a refreshing element of familiarity that neither of us wanted to admit that we appreciated so deeply.

"Red?" I asked, snatching the half empty bottle as I placed the other wine bottle back in its designated place, turning my head back to fix my gaze onto Damon, raising my eyebrows as a form of derise for the drink. Nodding his head in response, I quickly took two glasses from the cabinet, brimming them both with the alcoholic liquid before slowly making my way to sit next to him on the sofa, handing him one of the glasses as he thanked me in response. The same devilish silence echoed in the room once again as we granted the situation to truly sink in - thankfully alcohol was present. As I took a sip of the beverage, I tried to gulp down as much liquid as possible before I spoke once again. "So... how have you been?"

"Good... Just came off tour actually. Was a really successful one." he replied, his voice laced with a slight tone of doubt, edging the regret of so eagerly returning back into a place that was once so attached to his occupancy. He carried on talking about how the tour had been, my head subconsciously nodding, attentive to what he was talking about. Each time he had told me about something new they had added, or something they had changed surrounding the live performance set-up, it never failed to blow me away. Him and Jamie together, working on such a creative idea and putting it to life on stage was truly something out of rare virtuosity, disregarding the lengthy old ramblings from Damon almost every night he had returned home about how much Jamie had pissed him off, having a petty argument as if it was a be or end all in their friendship. It was actually a good form of entertainment, seeing how riled up Damon had gotten simply because of something that Jamie joked in an interview.

Once he had finished talking, our eyes connected, uncertainty clouded in his eyes as he searched for the reason behind him needing to come over. "Y/N, why did you ask me to come over?" He said, abrupt, almost as if those words had been lingering at the back of his mind the entire time we had been in one another’s acquaintance; the ease of the sting of words rolling off his tongue softly implied that, perhaps a try to prevent the harshness of the asking from offending me in the slightest. "We haven't seen each other for a year, why now?"

Both gazes never dared to break contact as if we had attempted to communicate telepathically - the ideation of instigating a conversation as awkward as how this had become, the two of us simply wanting the ground to swallow us whole. His gaze had the ability to put me into a trance upon which I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else except for the utter magnificence that was birthed into his loving eyes. Inhaling sharply, I tried to collect the thoughts in my brain that had been travelling in all directions, searching for all sorts of different possibilities that the conversation could reach. "Can we give it a second chance?" I asked absentmindedly, the realisation of what had just rolled off my tongue not settling in my mind until his eyes widened, speechless and shocked at my sudden questioning.

Sighing, he cocked his head to the side. “Love, we didn't work out the first time..." he began, my heart dropping to my stomach as the thought of him breaking my heart again entered my mind. His expression quickly softened once he saw my face drain colour, explaining all that he needed to know about how I had coped since he had left the picture. "I don't want to hurt you again."

Breaking away from the stare, I gawked at the dark shades of red that had adorned the transparent glass clasped in my palm. Holding in my emotions wasn’t going to do me any justice, and since he was here, it would not make sense for me to stupidly avoid the whole reasoning behind me needing him inside my apartment after so long. “It’s been so hard trying to get over you,” I mumbled, my voice almost inaudible out of embarrassment, though I knew he could hear me. “I need you.”

What I didn’t see from my shameful gaze at the ground, was the miniscule beam that broke out across Damon’s features. What I was unaware of, my body encompassed in such a impotent state of pure isolation, was that Damon had been as dependent on hearing those words escaping my mouth before he could admit the same to himself. Though it had all been answered to me as he softly brought his arm to caress my arm, gently squeezing the skin as a form of reassurance, implying the notion that he understood, that he felt the same way, after all this time. We broke up not because we lost feelings, but because the emotions we carried for one another were too strong to handle, too intense to progress with, that when he was gone for those long hours it had left me in such a stupor of helplessness and melancholy that it was unbearable to handle without it tarnishing my health. Unsurprisingly, at this point we knew where the conversation was headed; my desires to be swathed in his arms once again that I had tried so hard to banish to the back of my mind, to the depths of my distant memories in which by reliving such a hug came flooding back, my body leaned into his touch almost instantaneously, a subconscious reflex that I had craved, such an embrace that no other person could give, the mere side hug from him was able to banish all the pain that I had tried so diligently to mask away for the past few months.

We sat there for a short while, taking in the moment as it had played throughout, our breathing syncing together as comfort relished in the atmosphere, our minds now finally at peace while all the conflict that had battled our minds over the time we weren’t together. "Let me come on tour with you." I said, my head resting against his shoulder.

A chuckle erupted out of his throat. “It’s not that easy love.”

"Why can't it be? You're literally the frontman!" I exclaimed, lifting my head off his shoulder to connect eyes with him. "Damon, it would be so fun!" I exclaimed, attempting to encourage him.

It was as if things had mended back together, all the cracks in the pavements had been glued together to mend the time lost, as if it had never occurred. Through all the hardship I had faced trying to find the remedy to my heartache, I was dumbfounded to realise that it had been sitting in front of me, at the top of my phone’s contact list, right in front of my eyes this entire time. His eyes were calling out to me, enveloping my heart in comfort and warmth, the hunger radiating out eager to the ideation of starting anew and preserving the time in which we had lost, building new memories, unfastening the lock on the clock dictating the length of the relationship, allowing it to elongate, carry on as long as we could. My heart brimmed with homeliness - the house I was inside finally feeling normal to me once again.

"I'll see what I can do," he grins, the beautiful sight causing a small smile to erupt on my face as my body melted back into his arms once again. "No promises though."

It felt nice to wake up next to someone again the next morning, on the mattress that once was a carcass of many tears of sadness and melancholy, authentically conveyed by the essence of nihilism embodied from isolation, the kind of philosophical beliefs one could only develop an understanding towards subsequent to irrational thinking as the hours fell still, leaving you sat there, reliving the last moments from your memory bank with the significant other you had soiled ends with, a person who had supported you from the very beginning, even when things formed a bitter congestion to the relationship devoured by both participants, perhaps from the acceleration of argumentation shared, or the distance that had started to weave its way between, leaving you both stranded to conclude, as if you were both on separate, desolate islands fighting against the starvation of progressing through your lives and starting anew, departing from the old knots and attachments formed once epitomising pure adoration and love, though over time spawning to be the offspring of the devil. A person whom you knew would make your bed every morning, cradle you in his arms at the darkest hours to baptise the negativity coiled in your brain, whispering what seems like sweet nothings, merely sounding like soft raspy groans due to them being exhausted out of their mind, but you knew they were saying something to you, you could hear it, acknowledge it in a language that nobody else was able to understand. I relished in concession that he who lay beside me was the one that bestowed and epitomised all the things that I once lacked a night before. A lover.

#want 2 marry dilf damon ngl #he's literally perfect #damon albarn x reader #gorillaz #britpop #90s #nineties #damon albarn #band imagines #fluff #my writing

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lord-of-christmas-lights · 3 years

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I swear I have normal Narnia headcanons. However, none of them are featured in this post.

So! If you've been following my series of posts about my Inhuman Narnia AU and the couple of oneshots I posted on ao3 under ASkyOfKai, you've probably noticed that in this little universe I've created, Narnia is sort of...sentient. And I've just realized that I've only actually gone into depth about this on Discord with my friends who are probably very tired of hearing about it. So I'm making y'all suffer through it instead. Welcome to Inhuman Narnia 101, please take your seats because this is going to take a while.

Warning for religious themes, theological discussion, and some dark fantasy/inhuman/body horror concepts that involve blood and physical changes.

BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING: Please keep in mind that an AU is meant to be an alternate universe that may not follow canon information. If anything in this post contradicts canon on the creation of Narnia (it undoubtedly will), pay it no mind, this is an AU. It doesn't have to follow canon.

First off, a little explanation of the Inhuman Narnia AU in general. Basically I came up with this AU after seeing some other people on tumblr post about the Pevensies being not quite human after their time in Narnia. Just eerie, cryptid, a bit of dark fantasy kinda stuff. And I was like, "I'm in love, sign me up, I have ideas." I did not sit down and develop this all at once. The worldbuilding I've done for it has come slowly over the past few weeks through posts, fanfics, and discord rambles. The idea of Narnia being a sentient earth deity of sorts is a recent one and there is already so much to it. (Also I call her Narnia because it's convenient, she has other names but I haven't bothered to like, actually make any up so Narnia is what she's called.)

The most important thing to note starting off is that Narnia is not supposed to be a replacement for Aslan, nor is she necessarily "the hero to his villain". Aslan and I have an interesting relationship, as he is literally God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit/etc and I no longer really identify as Christian. While there are times that Aslan definitely takes a more antagonistic route in my writings, I don't actually see him as a bad guy, nor as a good guy. As God, he literally removed from our concepts of good and evil (in my opinion). The same goes for Narnia being an earth deity. I am a Christian-raised pagan, and I definitely subscribe to the idea that gods and deities are not subject to humanity and our rules. Narnia is not a good goddess, she is not a bad goddess, she simply is a goddess. Plain and simple. The dichotomy that exists between Narnia and Aslan in my writing is generally that of opposing deities, but this isn't a hard and fast rule. There were and still are times when they're friends, working towards the same goals. There are times when Narnia's power is stronger than Aslan's and times when Aslan's power is stronger than hers. There is no simple 1:1 comparison between them.

So, getting into motivations and why Narnia as a deity even exists. Essentially, I asked the question, "How do the Pevensies become inhuman?" and voila earth deity Narnia was born. Now, the basic in-universe mythology I've worked out is that Narnia and Aslan are two deities from separate dimensions that came together to create a new world, the world of Narnia. Aslan is the one who oversees things, he's the one who comes up with the ideas, and he's a little less attached to the world as a whole because he's a Creator, not an earth deity. Narnia is, however, and she literally makes up the world, she sort of runs the entire thing on a physical level, and she is much more attached to it. So she's always kinda taken on this role of making the things in her world the way she wants them. For the most part, she and Aslan designed everything together and they're both happy with it blah blah blah. Well, Aslan then decides to bring a few humans from this other world he's created to Narnia. And she affects them a bit (I've got headcanons about Digory and Polly that I haven't posted anywhere yet but I might soon), but it isn't until Aslan brings the Pevensies over that she really gets to experiment. See, there are other deities in the world that kinda rule over the various lands on a surface level (patron gods for Telmar, the Archenlands, etc, they just have less power than Narnia and Aslan) so she has a little less power over the people in those places, but the country of Narnia is both her land and her so when the Pevensies become the Kings and Queens and live there for 15 years, she's very connected to them. And it's through this connection that she starts to affect them. Honestly, I'm not sure if Narnia even knows what she's doing when she starts stripping away their humanity. I think it's that she can feel they're not from her world and she doesn't like that. She wants them to be a part of her, she wants them to belong in her world just the same as everyone else. (Side note—I know Telmar and some other lands in canon are based on people finding portals and coming through and I'd like to say that she does affect them a bit, takes away a bit of their humanity, but it's not to the same extent as the Kings and Queens of her lands).

"So Kai," you might say, "You keep empathizing that she is literally the land and the land is her. What the hell do you mean by that?" Well, essentially, she is...the...land. Basically if you've read Percy Jackson Heroes of Olympus, there's this idea that Gaia and Tartarus are both physically their domains and able to take on a smaller, human shaped physical form because they're gods and not restricted by human ideas of only having one body. Narnia is the same. Her physical form is both the entire world and whatever smaller shape she might appear in to people. However, we have to acknowledge that their world is differently structurally from ours. There's magic, there's talking animals, and in my Inhuman AU, there is a literal Heart of Narnia at the center. Like a physical, beating, human-shaped heart. Except it's a lot bigger than a regular human heart. Also it's golden. And many many many miles underground. So anyways this is where she's centered. It's basically where her soul is. Probably under Cair Paravel because I just came up with that idea and I love it. And radiating out from it are veins of magic and blood, and these stretch all across the world. Now here is where we get into blood magic and some of those fun terrifying concepts I've come up with.

Narnia has her own blood, of course, but also whenever one of her Kings or Queens bleeds in battle, she kinda pulls it down through the earth into her own heart and veins. It doesn't really do anything to her or them in particular, it's just a fun side effect of them having a patron pagan god. Yes this includes Caspian after he becomes King. Also Peter's blood turns golden because he's the High King, and then later Caspian's does too because I just really like imagery of Ben Barnes bleeding gold. (Side note—when Peter returns to England, his blood goes back to red, but it does remain a brighter red than blood generally is).

Diverting for half a second here. Now, in both my regular Narnia writings and my Inhuman AU, Lucy is very very connected to magic. In my regular Narnia fanfic, she studies with the druids, who are sort of like BBC Merlin's druids. They're just like, chill dudes who run around in camps doing magic and making prophecies and shit. However, in the Inhuman AU, they are a lot darker. One of my favorite ideas with the Inhuman druids and Lucy is that they are so connected to Narnia's magic and her Heart that their hands become stained with blood. Is it their blood, is it Narnia's blood, is it someone else's blood? Idk, don't ask questions. But yea, their hands are permanently stained reddish-brown to almost black. In my regular Narnia stuff, I still like the idea of Lucy's hands being stained and go with just earth magic, dirt stuff for the reason why. But yea no, in the Inhuman AU her hands are stained with blood because of blood magic.

So getting a bit more into how Narnia affects the Pevensies now because I love talking about this lol. She doesn't consciously chose how to change them, though she does call them her creations. Generally the way her magic affects them is by connecting them to to the land in some way and bringing out certain traits they have. So for Peter it's his eyes flickering between regular blue and the amber of a lion's, feathers appearing on his back that grow into wings, having a strength greater than that of a giant's. His blood is golden and on clear nights, the Aurora Borealis in the sky is reflected across his skin. For Susan, her skin glints like glass in the sun and she can briefly glimpse the future. Her wounds are sewn shut with golden rays of light, her eyes are cracked but clear, and she seems to glow faintly in the night, a bit of the sun's radiance shining through her. Edmund has a bit of a star's power lodged in his throat, and can manipulate words, uses them to influence people and their actions. His skin is frostbitten in places, a side effect of ruling the Woods where the White Witch once held so much power, and in some spots his bones shine under the ice that spreads across his skin. Lucy has the stained skin from her stronger connection to magic, and when she speaks words from the Old Language (the one Aslan and Narnia used to shape the world itself), her voice echoes and rasps. Her teeth are too sharp, her smile too wide, and when she disappears underwater, she can stay for hours without surfacing. I want to get into Eustace and Caspian now too but this post is already extremely long and I've still got a bit to cover, so we're just sticking with the Pevensies for now. So yea, Narnia doesn't pick what she does to the Pevensies, she just connects herself to them and through that connection, they change. The magic that she is made of, that Narnia the world operates on, that's what changes them. However, as I stated already, she does call them her creations and feels extremely responsible for them.

Wrapping back around up to the beginning, this is the biggest source of conflict between her and Aslan as of the canon timeline. I like to believe that the lamppost incident was an accident, that Aslan didn't actually mean to send them back at the end of LWW and it was pure coincidence, wrong place wrong time stuff. That being said, it did happen and Narnia really didn't like it happening. The Pevensies did return to their (mostly) human selves in this AU in England, so when they came back in Prince Caspian, she felt disconnected from them again. She reacted to this by digging into them even harder on a spiritual level and essentially speedran them back to being inhuman throughout the timeline of PC, which generally takes place over a few months in my mind. I don't remember how long it was in the book, it's been quite a while since I read them, but it's only like a week in the movie and like eff that, overthrowing a kingdom takes a bit longer in my opinion. Now there are a few divergences here. 1. They all stay at the end of PC and yea that's it, they go back to being Kings and Queens and it's like a second Golden Age but with Caspian there as well. 2. Susan and Peter stay, Lucy and Edmund go back and it's a repeat of the human/inhumanity cycle for them + Eustace in VOTDT and then they stay. 3. Everything happens exactly as it does in canon and it's a constant cycle of humanity/inhumanity with the character's various trips and finally ends at The Last Battle. I like all versions and I tend to leave things a little open to the reader on what exactly happens, or I would if I could actually finish some of my drafts and post them. As you can imagine, Narnia likes 1 the best and 3 the least. She really wants her Kings and Queens to stay and rule her lands and like be awesome and stuff. However, Aslan prefers 3 the best and 1 the least. So again, neither of them is really good nor evil, they just have differing opinions on how the world should be run and what the Pevensie's fates should be. I do tend to side with Narnia, I really like exploring these concepts of inhumanity, but I also really like the concept of a cycle. That's very common in mythology.

So anyways, that's a bit of an overview on earth deity Narnia and her role in my Inhuman AU. If you made it this far, congratulations, and I give you explicit permission to use any of my ideas in your own writing/fanart/whatever, as long as you tag either my tumblr or my ao3 (lord-of-christmas-lights and ASkyOfKai) because I need more Narnia+Inhumanity content in my life. Thanks for reading all this and I'll probably be back very soon with elaboration on Eustace and Caspian's inhumanity!

- Kai

#inhuman/dark fantasy narnia #the chronicles of narnia #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #aslan #digory kirke #eustace scrubb #caspian x #narnia headcanons #rambles of a hyperfixating kai

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amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

Not a total frickin’ idiot

For the request: R x Daphne Kluger. R being a part of the original Heist Crew and also being the one Daphne approaches. They’re super flirty w/ each other and everyone knows that they like each other except themselves.

Summary: You thought you had gone unnoticed at the Met, but Miss Kluger never forgets a face.

Characters: Daphne Kluger x fem!reader, the Ocean’s team

Word Count: 1,657

Warnings: swearing!? Do i still have to put a warning for that? idk

If you had learned anything about diva actress Daphne Kluger from Rose, it was that you don’t speak unless spoken to first.

And considering she didn’t talk to you at all during the heist, you were able to get around the entire night never uttering a single word to her, fulfilling your role on the team without any kind of hiccup.

So you were quite surprised when she had slid into your booth at your favourite coffee shop, giant sunglasses and a fashionable sunhat masking her face. You looked up from your phone and were about to comment about your booth being taken until you recognized her.

Your mouth hung open a little bit as she took off the hat and glasses. Her lips were painted a deep red and her outfit was impeccable, as always.

“Say..” she immediately said, pearly whites nearly blinding you as she smiled, “you were at the Met, weren't you?”

“I- I’m sorry?” you began. “I don’t know-”

“Oh my god! You totally were! You were wearing that adorable dress. Gosh, you looked so good.”

You were blushing hard, because in a matter of barely a minute, Daphne Kluger, gorgeous movie star, had called you adorable and good-looking all in the same sentence.

“I was there too- well, obviously you know that,” she chuckled, “and I was wearing that beautiful diamond necklace, don’t you remember? It was all over the news. Especially when I supposedly lost it.”

“O-oh? Right, y-yes I remember reading about it in the news..”

“And you know.. I couldn’t help but wonder how weird my designer was acting all night. And that lady in the black from the staff, who found my necklace? You’d almost think they were acting.”

You were almost as pale as a sheet at this point, gripping your cup in shaking fingers.

“And you know what’s funny? I saw you talking to both of them during the night. I mean, how couldn’t I notice? You looked so gorgeous, almost like you were asking me to see you.”

You gulped, “I do not know what you’re talking about, Miss Kluger-”

“Just call me Daphne,” she leaned forward, lips spread in a feline smile, elbows resting on the table and propping her head up on her hands.

“Y/N, right? I asked for your name from the guest list, I hope you don’t mind. They let me in on those sorts of things anyways.”

“That’s me,” you replied.

“Do you know Debbie Ocean? Of course you do, you two also seemed pretty close all night, hm? You’re lucky I was the only one who noticed.”

“What?”

“I’ve been approached by an investigator who seems really interested in her because the uh, necklace turned out to be a fake.”

You tried to pretend to be surprised at the news, but you couldn’t muster it, and Daphne looked at you knowingly.

“Luckily, I didn’t tell him any of your names, because I wasn’t sure if I was right. But you just confirmed all my suspicions anyways, so..”

“Are you threatening me?” you narrowed your eyes at her, and she gasped in mock offence.

“Of course not!” she leaned forward, giving you ample view of her cleavage, hand trailing over yours,

“I’m seducing you, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to say as she looked at you with those deep, telling eyes. Her own eyes flickered appreciatively over your features, and you wondered if she was checking you out or if she was simply acting.

A small group of fans approached the table, chittering and blushing at the sight of Daphne Kluger in a meagre coffee shop such as this one. She smiled amicably, accepting their compliments and giving them autographs, before saying,

“You’re all so sweet, but do you think you’d be able to let my girlfriend and I have some privacy for the rest of our date? Thaanks,” she waved as the fans rushed off, gasping and gossiping amongst themselves at the prospect of the Daphne Kluger having a girlfriend.

“Girlfriend?” you asked once you found your voice again. She only grinned and winked at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that baby. Now, are you gonna tell me about the necklace, or what?” she sipped your drink and your mouth went dry.

“Chilly,” Daphne remarked at the glances given by the rest of the group, “what about, ‘Hi Daph, welcome to the team. Let’s not all high five at once.’”

You chewed your lip, bounced your leg, avoided her gaze altogether, and tried very hard not to look at how good she looked in her black dress. You were sitting across from the couch where she had plopped down, hunched in the metal framed chair.

“Why’d y’let her get to you, Y/N. I told you not to draw attention to yourself!” Rose said to you, after you and Debbie had explained how Daphne had found you, recognized you and called out the plan. You, being the newbie in the ways of criminality, could barely think of a cover up and ended up bringing her to Debbie with a spluttering confession.

“She didn’t,” Daphne’s eyes were locked on yours, “I just noticed her myself.”

You blushed a little and looked away. Debbie looked at you apologetically, knowing you felt put on the spot.

“Plus,” Daphne continued, “I am the one who is saving your asses from insurance fraud, okay?”

The team burst into shock, responses flying left and right.

“I-I was gonna get to that,” you said hastily, eyeing Debbie, who stepped in,

“It seems that they’ve assigned an insurance investigator-”

“Who’s about to look up your asses with a flashlight,” Daphne pointed out.

“Who?”

"Oh, this little Columbo dude, everything but the trench coat, totally on to you.”

“His name is John Frasier,” Debbie said.

"Wha- you know him?” Amita spluttered in disbelief.

“Yes, he busted my father twice, my brother once.”

“He’s family,” Lou added.

“Lest we forget, this entire enterprise was to keep me out of jail,” Rose interrupted, worry etched on her face.

“No one is going to jail,” Lou assured her.

“We expected this, we prepared for this,” said Debbie. Not many of the team seemed to believe her, with Nineball adding,

“Yup... that’s clear.”

“We will not be the prime suspect,” Debbie said sternly.

"Then who will be?”

“Well,” you added, “we’ve got the security guys, the busboys-”

“...The shady guy who put you away,” Tammy sighed, arching an eyebrow at Debbie, who could barely contain the smirk on her face. Daphne stared at her incredulously,

“..the boyfriend.”

"Mhm,” Debbie replied, “they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

Lou nodded in approval, adding a faint, “that’s nice.”

"Thanks.”

“Wow... that is amazing,” Daphne grinned, chewing her gum in delight, “the precision, right? It’s always the attention to detail and the little grace notes that really make something sing.”

A short silence followed. Glances were cast between the rest of you, wondering what on earth had gotten into Daphne’s head.

“...Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, clearly dumbfounded by this multi-millionaire actress dropping into their party. Daphne stilled for a moment, her eyes flickering to you for a second before saying,

“I.. don’t have that many close female friendships. Plus bookclubs are the worst, so I just thought y’know... could be something fun to share?”

“You’re becoming a criminal because you’re lonely?”

“...Who isn’t sometimes, right?”

"Are you an only child?” you asked her. Her silence told you enough.

The team seemed to accept at that point that Daph was there to stay, so they went about their usual business.

“Beer?” Lou offered you, which you immediately said yes to, feeling a little woozy after that whole experience.

Tammy went to the kitchen and opened another pizza box, and you went to grab a slice for yourself before calculating your next move carefully, hoping your brain wouldn’t short circuit as you grabbed another slice and headed to where Daphne was sitting by herself.

You sat next to her, very very awkwardly, and offered her the paper plate.

“Aw, thanks,” she smiled, cheering up a little, “you know you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me because you feel bad for me. Look, I’m sorry I cornered you the other day. I didn’t mean to seem desperate or whatever.”

“You- you didn’t seem desperate,” you frowned, “and I don’t feel bad for you. Whatever gave you that idea?”

She looked at you with a mouthful of pizza, and made an exasperated gesture to your whole surroundings, indicating the events that had just occurred. She also didn’t want you to know how she had been dying for your attention the minute she had seen you at the Met.

“Oh, well, I mean, I think your reasoning was perfectly justified,” you cocked your head at her and smiled. Then you lifted your pizza and said,

“to crime!”

The rest of the group cheered and replied with the same phrase, lifting their beers or pizza with glee. Daphne blushed at the exclamation.

“Now you,” you said, nodding encouragingly.

“What?”

“Do it! If you’re gonna be a part of the Ocean’s team, you gotta get with the rituals.”

“Rituals?” Daphne scoffed. But then she saw your dopey smile and sparkling eyes, and her insides melted. She delicately lifted the pizza and said,

“to crime!”

You laughed and sipped your beer.

“Ten bucks says they’re dating by next week,” Nineball said in the kitchen, peering into the fridge.

“I say by the weekend,” Constance offered.

“Idiots,” Rose shook her head. “If tonight is gonna keep up like this, I say by the morning.”

They eyed you and Daphne chatting away on the couch, completely forgetting about everyone else.

“Not so lonely anymore I guess,” Tammy smiled.

“Told you, crime’s good for many things,” Debbie nudged her and smiled at Lou, who rolled her eyes playfully.

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