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kierancaz · 2 years

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𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐊𝐢𝐝

(𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐱 𝐈𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐊𝐢𝐝!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫/𝐎𝐜)

A/N: I have rewritten this authors note three times and I’m so close to just giving up oh my GOD. Anyway. Hello !! This is my first fic on here and honestly it was completely unintentional !! This idea has been rotting in my brain for days so I figured I would write it and here we are. It’s a little dark ??? read the warnings before proceeding. Tell me if you guys would want a part two to this bc honestly I have ZERO plans for this fic and it just kinda happened so I could totally do that if it’s wanted. Geralt might be a little ooc ? but yk what it’s like 20 or so years after raising Ciri so idc. ALSO ALSO I labeled this a Reader/Oc bc I’m toying with making it a oc story. It’s written in second person POV but I kinda want to give reader grey eyes and white hair (bc character things *cough I haven’t decided what they’re going to be as for the inhuman part cough* and also easy to project onto bc they’re bland yk?) and I was maybe thinking of giving them a name? So tell me if you guys would be ok/would want that, ok? OK GOOD HOPE YOU ENJOYYY [A/N2: I’m 99% sure the production of this post killed me and I’m still not happy with the lay out. I am so sorry. Future fics will be better I promise.]

Warnings: starvation, death threats, injury, violence? (If I missed anything tell me and I’ll put it here)

The spring breeze was chilly as Geralt entered the next town on Roach. He was hoping to find a place to stay for the night and possibly a job. He had heard rumors about their being a monster in the woods around here from the town over, although they weren’t very specific he figured he could check it out just in case there really was some coin to be made here.

Geralt was wrong. There was no place to stay and there was no coin to be found here. There was however, a very, *very,* tiny thief.

You had seen him from behind the corner of a building. His back turned to you and from his belt a tiny leather sack was hanging. It may have had coin in it, you hoped it had food in it, but you wouldn’t know until you *had* it.

Once his head was turned you sprinted out from where you had been watching the woman and snagged the pouch from his belt. Not one second later your shirt choked you as you were yanked backwards and your feet left the ground. Instinctively you curled up, clutching the pouch in your hands so hard your knuckles blanched white.

Geralt was… unsure of what he was looking at. There was you. In his hand. Held up to eye level by the back of your shirt and cloak like one would hold a kitten by the scruff of their neck. You couldn’t have been more then four or five, but it was hard to tell. You were so dirty he couldn’t tell what color your hair was or if you were a boy or a girl. On top of all that you looked sickly. Pale with sunken eyes and hollowed out cheeks, your legs and feet were bony and he noticed how a couple of your fingers were crooked, clearly having been broken before and didn’t heel correctly.

You were pouting at him, but he assumed it was meant to be more of a glare. He could see the fear in your eyes. You were so small…

Geralt signed. Lambert was right, maybe he *had* gone soft since he adopted Ciri.

He set you down on your feet and crouched down to your level. “What’s your name?” He asked as soothingly as possible. Your eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the ground in front of your feet. You were stiff as a board and if Geralt couldn’t hear the almost imperceptible huffing of your breath he would’ve assumed you stopped breathing.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured cocking his head to the side to try and catch your eye. “Do you have a name?”

Your lip trembled for a moment and you refused to look at him. A few more seconds of silence passed before Geralt signed for a second time and got to his feet. Your eyes flicked to him for a moment before looking back at the dirt. He looked at you, still completely frozen in fear, before he made a final decision and lifted you from the ground once again.

You didn’t struggle as he lifted you from under your armpits and rested you on his hip. You found footing on his armor but didn’t move after that. Your breathing sped up and he could feel the frantic pounding of your heart and put a hand on your back in attempt to sooth you. “You look like you could use some food.”

You where standing in front of a brown horse while the white haired man fished around in his saddle bags. You leaned away slightly, side eyeing it nervously as the horse brought its nose to your cheek and sniffed. It whinnied in your ear and bobbed it’s head.

“Easy Roach,” the man said and pat its neck. He crouched down to your eye level and held out his hand to you, he was holding a biscuit. “I’ll trade you.” He said and you thought the corner of his lip might have twitched upwards for a moment.

Your mouth watered. *Food! He has food!* Your eyes were big as saucers and solely focused on the thin biscuit in his hand. You pried one of your hands from where they were suck in the coin pouch and hesitantly began to reach out.

You stopped, looking Geralt in the eyes for a moment. Geralt nodded, silently telling you that it was ok. Quickly you snatched the biscuit from him and dropped the coin pouch to stuff your face with both your hands. Slowly Geralt reached out and took it from where it lay at your feet and watched at you devoured the honey biscuit he had given to you.

He lifted the pouch and examined it, there were ten tiny holes in it now. He would have to get a new one. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed you had stopped eating. You were coughing with your mouth closed, your face twisting in pain.

“Hurts…” was all you said and touched your throat. Geralt was a little taken aback by the sound of your voice. Strained, croaky, and like it hadn’t used in months. He handed a canister of water to you and you drank a couple sips eagerly.

He sat down on the ground in front of you. After drinking you didn’t go back to eating but instead cast a rather upset look at the honey biscuit in your hand. “You can soak it in the water to make it softer if you’d like.”

The next few minutes went by with you soaking your biscuit in water and trying to choke down the rest of it, sitting down the process. Geralt studied you as you did all this.

The more he looked the more you seemed to shrink. You were entirely to skinny and your clothes to big for you. The way you where sitting allowed him to see the bottoms of your feet, they were so dirty they might as well have just been black and had open wounds the bled crimson. Those would be infected if nothing was done about them, it must’ve hurt to walk. Every couple of bites you would cough, choke, and gag, before chugging some water and continuing to eat.

You had noticed him staring, glared, and shuffled so your back faced him.

“What to tell me your name now?” Geralt asked. You glared at him over your shoulder for a moment, then went back to your biscuit. “Will you let me bandage your feet?”

Again you looked at him over your shoulder, but your eyes where softer now. More surprised and curious looking. Geralt took some stuff out of Roach’s saddle bag once again and when he looked back at you, you where facing him and looking up at him with a curious gaze. He gave a slight smile as he crouched in front of you and with a wet rag began to wipe off your feet.

You winced and tried to yank your foot away but Geralt had a firm hold on your ankle. “It’ll sting, but it’s better then being infected. Hold still.”

And you did. You stayed perfectly still and let Geralt wipe off the dirt and bandage your feet. Once he was done and put his stuff away he picked you up once again and carried you like he had before. Your heart was beating just as fast and you were just as stiff as earlier.

“Do you have a home I can bring you back to? Parents we could find?” He asked. He felt your grip on his shoulder tighten. He hummed but didn’t ask anything else.

He carried you to an inn and when he entered he got many strange and alarmed looks, but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. He went up to the man at the bar. “Excuse me,” he said, you shifted in his hold to peak over your shoulder, and the man lifted his gaze from the cup he was cleaning.

Immediately his eyes blew wide, the cup he was holding hit the floor and shattered as he stumbled back into the shelves of alcohol and sink behind him. He pointed a shaky finger at the witcher. “Get out,” he said shakily, trying to find his voice.

Geralt opened his mouth speak again but the man beat him to it.

“Take that foul *thing* out of here!” He shouted catching everyone’s attention.

You squirmed in Geralt’s gasp like you were trying to melt into his armor. A sudden pain shot through his shoulder. Like tiny knives had pierced his skin. He didn’t let the pain show on his face, he could feel your tiny heart beating more rapidly then he though possible.

From behind him he heard chairs clatter to the ground and swords being drawn. “You heard him,” one of them men who had drawn his sword said. “Get it out of here.”

“Before we kill it.” Added the other man menacingly. You had frozen solid in his arms, he could feel you short, panicked breathing against his neck. Your eyes wide but staring at nothing. The men inched closer.

Geralt held up his free hand and the men stopped. “We’ll leave.” Was all he said before turning and make his way out of the inn.

He walked you back to Roach, you were still the entire time. The claws in his shoulder were beginning to burn. But he didn’t do anything until you reached Roach.

There he gently maneuvered your fingers free from his shoulder and set you down on the ground. There was a long moment of silence.

“You don’t have a family do you?” He asked. Looking at your feet, you shook your head.

“Or a place to live?” You shook your head again.

“Do you have a name?” He asked. You nodded your head, he waited a for a moment but when you didn’t speak he continued.

“You can’t stay here can you?”

You shook your head.

“How would you like to come with me then?”

You looked up at him for the first time since he picked you up last. Your mouth parted in surprise. Quickly you closed it and gave him a single nod as your answer.

“Well then,” he said as he quickly tied off the wound in his shoulder. “We best get moving.”

With that he picked you up and set you on Roach and the two of you left town.

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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[please blacklist spoiler tags: #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, #loki spoilers]

Yes, I did just watch episode 2 at 5:30 in the morning.

No, I am not sorry. Not at the moment, although when I inevitably crash later this afternoon, I will be.

Just some very, very quick - and scattered and messy - thoughts: That is a straight up lie; they’re definitely scattered and messy but not very quick at all.

Under the cut for spoilers and length.

I’m going to start with Loki’s characterization. My honest opinion is that Loki’s overall characterization feels like a fic characterization. He definitely is not Avengers Loki, like, at all. I don't know if Tom just, like, forgot how to play that Loki or ...?? That, or Loki was so much more mind-controlled than we realized and getting hulk-smashed just completely reset him back to zero but also fucked him up a little bit and affected his personality, kind of like how some people completely develop weird new personality quirks after a traumatic brain injury.

… yeah, I think that’s where I’m gonna land for now. TV series!Loki feels like a more-or-less canon version of Loki, but if that Loki got hit in the head really hard and now he’s just a little bit fucked up but overall no worse for the wear. Which - it may be that it’s so early in the morning, but that’s actually really fucking funny to me, lmao. God, I kill me. It’s not funny.

No, but, that’s pretty much how I feel. He’s ooc but he’s also ic, and the reason I’m not particularly bothered by the inconsistency, for lack of a better word, is because that’s what pretty much every fic Loki already feels like to me? (Including my own, so I’m not, like, saying that in a derogatory way.) Which is why I say Loki feels like a fic!Loki and to try to explain it better - there is always, for me, a little suspension of disbelief that I employ when I read fic. The reason for that is because the context, the plot, and the dynamics of the fic are usually pretty different than what we ever get in canon, so it becomes a matter of taking film!Loki and, like, bending him a bit in order to fit him into the perimeters of the fic.

The result ends up being that I don’t see the exact Avengers!Loki or TDW!Loki, and thus by definition the portrayal is ooc, but the version that I do see feels like a genuine extension of the canon version, possessing enough of Loki’s overall traits and characteristics that he feels authentic, albeit a bit pretzeled for the new context.

I honestly think that’s something that’s unavoidable, just due to the fact that in fic - and now, in this series - there are a lot more variables at play than there are in the films, wherein Loki is not just a supporting character but also the villain/antagonist and is therefore very limited in what he does/what the narrative allows him to do. When those limitations are taken away, what are we going to see? Probably a lot of different things, and yeah, a lot of them are going to feel a little ooc. And, like in fic, even if the characterization mostly lands, there are definitely bits and pieces (some fics more than others lean this way) where the author didn’t stick the landing or got carried away or otherwise probably forgot for a while that they were writing Loki, not their own OC.

That’s the point where it strays into cringe territory for me (and where the ‘heh, he’s Loki but with a brain injury’ aspect comes in), but while I had to consciously decide to just ignore those moments, overall the tone in this episode felt a bit more balanced between the new, the old, and the cringe, and less whiplash-y from the beginning of the episode to the end.

… I have no idea if that makes sense, but what I’m basically saying is that while I am enjoying this version of Loki, I do recognize all of the ways he’s ooc but, unlike how I feel about Ragnarok!Loki, the ooc-ness feels genuine and unavoidable rather than just a fundamental and careless misunderstanding of the character altogether. In other words, I feel like any ooc-ness here is happening despite the writers taking care to do their best, and isn’t just a result of Loki being lazily written by a person or persons who just doesn’t want to bother with him at all.

Again, I don’t know if that makes sense, but fuck it, there we are and I’m moving on.

I liked all of the little details, including again, things that felt straight out of fic, like Loki asking Mobius why he has the jetski magazine. (Also, if any of my thorki friends read this, was I the only one who noticed that when we see Loki reading the magazine, it just happens to be open to a page with a picture featuring a jet skier who looks like Thor? l.m.a.o.)

Loki interrupting things to explain the difference between illusions vs the other power (I can’t remember which one, off hand, and if I stop writing to go look it up I will lose my train of thought and not finish this) was great, but his overall input and contributions to the missions inspired very mixed feelings for me. On the one hand, I loved that the narrative, via Loki, is reminding us of all these things that he’s capable of that the films generally left out or brushed aside or ignored - but, every time he spoke, he was met with eye rolls and sighs and just a general feeling of “someone please shut this guy up” and I didn’t like the narrative treating him that way.

But also, it’s understandable bc none of the people on his team are actually on his team. None of them want him there (story of Loki’s fucking life), none of them trust him, and none of them are particularly interested in hearing what he has to say. So it’s like, I understand why they reacted the way they did, and I don’t think their reactions are meant to support an overall narrative undermining of Loki’s skills and input - but, the tone is hard to read for me bc I am very defensive and protective of Loki. I can’t quite determine the line between the TVA agents being unreliable narrators (ie, they’re annoyed by Loki bc of who he is to them, but that doesn’t mean the audience is supposed to feel the same) and the TVA agents validating that Loki is just being a nuisance (and, thus, the audience is supposed to feel the same).

That is, I know how I am consuming the narrative (that they’re unreliable narrators), but I’m not sure if that’s how tptb are intending for me to consume the narrative - and I guess it doesn’t really matter, but it’s worth mentioning.

In general, I really liked, again, Loki existing in his own space and watching the way he carried himself. I especially found it interesting that his hands were almost always in his pockets - for one thing it's a stance I tend to imagine him taking often in fic, but also it’s kind of a weird choice bc pockets don’t seem to be a thing in Asgardian clothing. It makes me feel like Loki is the kind of person who never knows what to do with his hands but is always conscious of them, as is common among anxious and self-conscious people, and I just find that relatable on a weird level.

I am really kinda torn on Mobius in this episode; when not interrogating Loki, he’s much less antagonistic toward Loki and therefore I’m more inclined to take-him-or-leave-him but I’ll go ahead and take him I guess. Yet at the same time, bc he’s not interrogating Loki he’s also not trying to put on a show for Loki and when you take that away, he really doesn’t seem to like Loki at all. It supports that Mobius only wants what Loki can do for him and doesn’t actually particularly care about him as a person, which is fine and more or less what I figured, but it contributes to me not really being able to decide how I feel about him in general. Idk, though, I kinda like their dynamic? Like I want them to end up friends?

Regardless, Tom and Owen have amazing chemistry and it’s really funny to me bc (not to be a jerk) I honestly didn’t know Owen Wilson could act. Like, I’ve never seen him in a role where he wasn’t just playing Owen Wilson. So for him to not only be playing Mobius so well but also having such chemistry and a sense of holding-his-own against Tom Hiddleston is like, color me surprised but pleasantly so.

I like B-15 a lot, even though she obviously hates Loki, so idk why I like her but I do. I like Renslayer less, but meh. (Side note - when I was in undergrad in Syracuse, I took the Amtrak from Syracuse to Boston and back more than a few times, for reasons that aren’t relevant, and that route always had a layover at Albany-Rensselaer and every single time I see Renslayer’s name, I want to call her Rensselaer instead.) Shout out to the guest appearance by Casey, sorry Loki stole your juice lmfao.

The moments from the trailer that were very cringe were less so in context (though still kinda cringe, tbh). I think we’ve seen most of the content from the trailers in the first two episodes now, though, which means going forward, it’s going to be like 95% previously unseen material (aside from the brief apocalyptic shots and so forth).

One thing I fucking loved was how Loki, reading about Ragnarok, was visibly affected and even teared up a bit, and you could tell he was in his feels about it, but then later when Mobius expresses sympathy, Loki is just like, “Uh huh, very sad, but anyway.” It was a subtle (well maybe not that subtle) but effective way to remind us that what Loki presents to other people is more often than not a mask and he keeps his true feelings close to the chest. It makes last week’s breakdown have even more of an impact, I think, bc clearly Loki was at the end of his rope to allow himself to show that much raw emotion and vulnerability, but also - for me - there’s a niggling little doubt there that wasn’t there before, in that there was probably more performance in it than I thought.

By which I mean, I think his reaction to the film of his life when he was alone was genuine but, while I previously thought his admission to Mobius later was also genuine, I now think was probably half genuine and half performative. I know others already figured that out, but I’m a little slow and, also, I don’t mind changing my opinion and interpretation from week to week.

Along the same lines, I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that Loki is “undercover” in the TVA, but it was nice to see it acknowledged fairly quickly. Not sure I buy that Loki wants to overthrow and rule the TVA - it’s still a little too “Loki only wants a throne” for me, but again, just because that’s what he told the variant doesn’t mean that’s actually what he’s after.

And, finally, I like the variant, I love Loki’s reaction to seeing her, and while I realize that the show has acknowledged Loki’s gender fluidity and we’re meant to assume that Lady Loki (I guess? Not sure if we’re going with that or not here) is Loki, I saw a theory somewhere about how this is actually not Loki-Loki, but - I wanna say her name Sophie but that’s the actress, again I can’t go look it up bc I will lose my train of thought - but it’s a character who is similar to Amora and who was created by Loki and models herself as Loki but she’s actually someone else.

Ugh I can’t remember the details of the theory, but I am kinda going with it bc I don’t think that Loki would look so - not surprised but just kind of “oh, well, I wasn’t expecting that” if he were seeing the female version of himself. Like, he doesn’t seem to recognize her the way I assume he would recognize himself, male or female. Not only does that make me feel like she’s actually someone else, but also not recognizing her as the female version of himself doesn’t necessarily mean Loki doesn’t recognize her at all. He may very well recognize her as this other Amora-similar character and, if so, I really want to see how that character fits with MCU Loki (as I think she’s a comic book character but, again, I’d have to go back and find that theory).

Edit: I found a version of it here.

Overall score, B-. Mostly solid, but needs moar Loki breakdowns and tears. (That's just me, don't fucking judge me.) Also, I really hate that we have to wait a week between episodes. I wish they were following Netflix’s method of dropping the entire season at once but, then again, if they did that, I’m not sure any of us would survive.

I gotta get ready for work and I deleted and rewrote so much of this and it still seems nonsensical to me, lmfao fml. Anyway feel free to interact/send me asks/whatever, it’s going to be a long fucking day with all of this on my mind. I’ll be working my way through my dash as best as I can.

Oh, also! Loki is so fucking pretty in this episode! The TVA suit is ugly, but he makes it work, and his hair's combed nicely and he looks like he finally got an opportunity to sleep and shower and eat something and, yknow, it's working for him.

#loki tv series spoilers #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki pokey artichokey #also thought it was interesting that as soon as mobius gave him the jacket #loki barely took it off and didn't go anywhere without it #lending even more credence to the fact that he likes to be as covered up as possible at all times

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seijorhi · 3 years

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asks :))

what i have learned today is that y’all wanna get fucked by some monsters...

What does nostos mean? What language is it in? 🤔 also I of course loved it, mind blown as usual queen

it’s ancient greek! it means homecoming, the idea of a triumphant return home for the hero after a long journey. i found it through looking at the root of nostalgia. in this fic of course it’s kind of a grim tongue in cheek play on it. the reader’s coming back to the mountains, but she’s running away after a bad breakup, and the welcome she gets is... shall we say less than ideal haha

Just read nostos-

First of all as a person who reads monster shit- hell ya. Mhm. That’s some good shit right there. That was DELICIOUS horror. It actually had me a bit nervous and afraid to read what was gonna happen next 😳

Secondly- omg I wanna know what happened next (at the end) 👀 know what I mean??? 😼

ANYWAY AS ALWAYS you never disappoint and your writing is fantastic (if/when you write horror yandere stuff again I’ll be there- frothing at the mouth. A+++++ work ILY💖)

you want me to write the monster porn, just say it bby ghfjdkshgfjkd but ty

Omfg that fic was so good!

Did the readers mom know about monster kuroo?? Or was she just worried because of the previous murder? And did Kuroo somehow manipulate reader into coming back to the forest or was it just a big coincidence? (👁👄👁 there's no such thing as a coincidence)

Looking forward to your future work <3

ty nonnie!! i didn’t have the right space for it, but after kohsuke was ripped apart and eaten kuroo stayed by the reader’s side until late in the night, only disappearing when he heard the reader’s parents/search party approaching. they found her lying in pools of blood (and scattered half eaten body parts), shaking and unresponsive – they knew no animal could’ve done something like that. so they knew something lurked in those woods, but considering the reader had repressed the memories, her mom couldn’t just come out and say it <33

You are an AMAZING horror writer!!!

The uneasiness I got from the conversations with the mom is just *chefs kiss*

A+++++

ahh thank you!! horror is such a hard genre to write because i’m never sure if the suspense and everything’s gonna hit right haha

I read Nostos before going to sleep last night and at the time I was like “sure hope this doesn’t give me nightmares” and thankfully it didn’t lol. But I think I’m willing to take that chance again because it’s so GOOD and I think I’m just going to have to relive it – @ohno-otome

fhdjgbfhjkdfn i’m glad it didn’t give you nightmares bby!! but i also appreciate that haha, i’m an absolute wimp with scary movies and stuff but i just can’t stop watching them haha

I just wanna say that I was listening to "You're a psychotic villain playlist" on youtube while reading Kuroo's oneshot and I can't explain the emotions I felt, but I'd let Kuroo do things to me asdfghjkl – @itishebihime-samaforyou

ooh nice! sometimes the right playlist makes things doubly as fun haha

OH MY GOD!?!?! Nostos was soooo GOOD?!?!? Like it was so creepy (but in a good way), and scary and suspenseful!! And the ending!?!? Omggg honestly one my fav fics from you!! You did my mans Kuroo justice 🥺💖💕

TYYYYYYY i was genuinely concerned i was gonna scare everybody off haha

Ah! The new fic! Chiefs kiss! Magnificent! Bravo!🧚‍♀️✨🧞‍♀️🦖🦭🌹💫

tysm nonnie!!! <33

i’m pretty sure i’m in the same/similar timezone as you? and i do be staying up late to be one of the first to read your fics (i usually stay up late anyways). so imagine my surprise when i see you post in the afternoon. in conclusion, whether you post to align with your european and american readers’ timezone, my gmt+10 arse will still be one of the first to read your fics. also nostos sjdufigyyjf i have to admit, i recently just found out about monster fucking and nostos scratched the itch😫 i feel bad for kohsuke though

bby i always post at like 2-4 in the morning please get some sleep!! the fics will be there in the morning lmao. i kinda low key forget about my aussie/gmt+10 followers because i think there’s like... 3 of you haha

Honestly if i could give u a dollar everytime i got off to your fics, you'd probably be rich by now

lmao the idea that people find my fics hot enough to get off to still blows my mind lol

your newest kuroo fic was so SO good!! its totally okay if you dont want to answer this so you can keep things ambiguous but is monster kuroo planning on killing the reader after he's...done with them

thank you, bby!! but no, monster kuroo isn’t gonna eat her – he’s had plenty of chances to do that if that’s what he wanted, but he has other plans for the poor reader

RHI, I WANT TO STATE FOR THE RECORD THAT I AM OKAY WITH MORE MONSTER FUCKING IN THE FUTURE. i also want to say im not a monster fucker, but that just feels like a lie at this point. okay, now that that's off my chest, i love it. the mystery, the connections of kuroo to a cat. kuroo's probably gonna go and batter around his prey once they're under his grip like my cat does. hopefully the reader will come out somewhat unscathed, if they are ever allowed to leave 😌 love this, love how different it is, the way kuroo just tries to weasel in. very monster and yandere vibes, very you. have i said i love this yet?? id willingly let him get me drunk on his cock, maybe never leave the peace of the mountains again

‘i want to say that i’m not a monster fucker’ bby the denial will get you nowhere haha. just lean in and embrace it hgfjkdlkfgjnkdl ahh but thank you this is such a sweet ask ILY!!!

Omg omg the monster thing kuroo was in ur latest fic is so familiar to me abdhdmfnjfjf. I remember being told abt a monster with VERY SIMILAR characteristics to it (aka the not being able to go inside a house unless invited and using fire to lure ppl out) AND JFC IT TERRIFIED ME. Esp how when i told ppl around me and they didnt recognize what it was, but it was somehow known to the kid that told me abt it.

(Some ppl thought it was familiar but still didnt know what it was)

Do u know what im talking abt? Hopefully u do

-🥚

GHFJDK so the monster in this is kind of based off the nekomata spirit in japanese folklore - they can appear like people, torment victims by reanimating the corpses of their loved ones, they’ve been blamed for forest fires, so it was just fun to use that as a basis and then go buck wild haha. anyway thanks for the ask bby!

Rest In Peace Kohsuke, you would’ve loved Haikyuu season 5😔✊– @joyvstheworld

poor kohsuke deserved better, i’m just mean to the oc’s i throw into fics haha

Monsterfucking ❤❤❤❤❤❤ a little annoyed you're making me simp for yan Kuroo though (a vibe tho tbh). You're so extremely talented!!!! &

This is probably a stupid question, but how did Kageyama react when he couldn't find y/n? How is life with yan Suga? I imagine probably awful BUT yknow maybe the stockholm syndrome set in fast lmao. Sorry, I'm going on a binge reading your stuff. - @oracleofdin

i will not apologise for making you simp for kuroo he deserves it the man’s a snacc. and as far as your second question, suga’s a very caring, very smothering kinda yandere, so i guess in some ways it’s better than what the reader had with kageyama but... pick your poison haha

That was so good. I’m so shook rn I can’t comprehend anything but how good that was and how good a writer you are

TYSM NONNIE!!! <33

Ok, so, I just read Final Girl and the lil' ticket addition to it and just---

Well, ok I've been playing Dead by Daylight a lot lately? And I'm just picturing Tetsu as the newest killer "The Trickster" and I'm positively RANDY.

Your writing is ALREADY thirst inducing and just as satisfying, but this has SENT ME- If you're not familiar, please...

https://youtu.be/iowkiPobYYQ

Understand my thirst. (I'd also like to clarify, I use a different skin for him that gives him black hair and he looks like Kuroo with an undercut.)

~ @the-casual-hedonist 🌸

i love how feral y’all got for final girl kuroo. like bo and akaashi had his fans, but i put a spiked bat in kuroo’s hands and y’all lost your goddamn minds and i love to see it. fghdjkvhfjdkls thanks for the ask bby

idk why but I love preggo reader as long as I don't pretend it's me 😢✋ I hate babies n pregnancy anywhere else other than horny haikyuu fics

i think that’s a valid thing for a lot of fans. the idea of breeding is sexy, the actual getting pregnant and having a kid thing... not so much. but especially with non-con scenario’s, it’s more about the aspect on control than the actual desire to have kids. but yeah, i feel you

Sorry to bother but uh was just wondering in fracture did Osamu kill his wife or was it actually an “unfortunate event” ? Love your work btw!!

he most certainly did :))

LMFAO RHI i totally get not liking cheating/infidelity fics (towards reader) bc IT HIRTS ME SO BAD I CANNOT HANDLE THOSE.

id be reading fics those fics like: tf you mean my yandere aimt gonna baby me and only want me??🤨🤨🤨⁉️‼️

EXACTLY! listen i get that it’s a fucked up fantasy, but in my fucked up fantasy you damn well better have the decency to be loyal smh

Finders keepers is the most beautiful thing I've read by you: I read it twice like I normally do and here's what I figured out the second time (that's when I analyze it and find the little tidbits of things that are much darker than they appear (: )

To start I LOVE THE DETAILS OF THEM NEVER TEACHING READER ANYTHING- at first I assumed "oh they might see her as a little sister or child or something" but realized thAT WAS THE ISSUE!! they infantilize her and isolate her from everyone but her group. the small details like that are what make the story amazing 😎💅

ahh thank you so much, nonnie!! pls this is making me soft 🥺

I just wanted to stop by and say that I love your writing and I hope you're doing well!!! Drink plenty of water and keep up the amazing work :) but seriously you're one of the best fanfic writers I've seen on tumblr! I read your "Imitation" piece about kuroo and i keep coming back to it, it's so good! I did want to ask if you think it'd be possible for the reader to ever escape with the baby (or at least attempt to). Or if Kenma would "help" at all just to put an end to kuroo's antics lmao

kenma would in no way help the reader, and tbh by that point if kuroo did get her pregnant, she’d be far too emotionally dependant on him to actually even want to leave, but thanks for the ask!

You know who I think would be a perfect Yandere in the JJK world? Choso.

🚨Spoilers Ahead🚨

After being locked in a glass jar for however long he was, and all that happened with his brothers, I feel like he would absolutely never let his darling out of his sight. He would be possessive. Obsessive. And Oh So delusional. Sure he’d be your anything - he truly is a softy - but to what end?🤤

choso would make an excellent yandere, ngl 😌

what au/troupe of your fav character(s) that you have written do you like the most?

(rlly hope this makes sense🙏)

i am always a slut for soulmate au’s :))

#ask #anon #rhi answers #ohh so many asks #i love you guys <33 #fic q's

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s11e17 · 3 years

Note

5 and 16, and then 22 for A Remembered Earth! <3

ohooo 💖💖💖 fyi im answering this on mobile so if the formatting is fucked im sorry 😭

5: Share a snippet that you’re proud of from an upcoming fic/chapter.

ok for context cas has been rescued from a djinn and is telling sam what he saw in his dream

“Okay,” Sam says, “sure. If you’re really okay with it, then yeah, I’d— I’d love to know what an angel dreams about.”

Castiel wonders how to say it. “We had a house,” Castiel starts, “me and Dean.”

It was a small house. Castiel remembers that vividly. It was tall enough to feel comfortable, but with only a single floor. Two bedrooms— their room, and a guest room. Roof access. It was the kind of house where you could bump shoulders with someone in the kitchen easily, the kind of house that built intimacy. Castiel remembers Dean standing in the back door with his coffee, face turned up to the sun, as he did every morning. He was so beautiful. He’d had a smile on his face, an easy and gentle smile. He’d taken a sip of his coffee, and said, glad we started shellin’ out for the good stuff, Cas, because he knew Castiel was behind him. After so long together, Dean could trust that Castiel would always want to watch him in the morning sunlight, freckles coming in across the bridge of his nose. Some days, Castiel would kiss his shoulder, and say, You are who I cherish most in my life. Do you know that? and every time, Dean would say, Yes, sweetheart. I know.

“We were so happy,” Castiel whispers. It’s all he can think to say. He looks at the sunset. Dean will come home in an hour with new parts for the ‘58 in the garage and a spring in his step, and Castiel will say, Welcome home, Dean, and Dean will say, Thanks, man. They will sleep in separate rooms. Dean has no need for the kind of love Castiel dreams of. Dean is already as happy as he will ever be. In his own way, in the way Dean has outlined with his words and his body, Dean has delineated what it is that he wants and what it is he finds unnecessary. Castiel is honored to fit almost entirely into what Dean wants. The only thing he wishes is that he could jettison the remains.

16: Do you stick to canon when you write characters and fics?

Definitely yes! I love & respect AU writers, but I generally prefer to stay in the canon universe. I just saw a post that described fanfiction as literary analysis which really resonates with me - I find it a conpletely different beast to original fiction (both fanfic & original fic are legitimate forms of writing, but for me, they're just completely different and have few transferable skills) so stuff like worldbuilding and OC-making doesn't come easily to me.

22: Have you used any symbolism in [the remembered earth]? What does it represent?

Ahhh!! wow what a question 🥺 there are a few I can think of now, looking back:

the small trees — little shrubs, round and brittle, nothing like the Californian redwoods or even the Virginia conifers — grow at half-height and half-density, cut down by the wind and the sun and the solitude. Dean can see right through them. in this bit, those trees are definitely supposed to parallel Dean himself (or rather, his view of himself).

Dean can barely imagine surviving another year, let alone ten. But he has reason to, now — him and Cas, and the smile that comes out of Sam every so often, and the girls, and Amanda, too. “Yeah,” he grits out, feeling it like an oath. She tilts her chin at him, and he nods back, like signing a contract. This isn't really symbolism, but I very much took this concept from Lee Maracle's novel Celia's Song, wherein an agreement between Celia's nation and the longhouse snakes is broken because many members of Celia's nation (I'm avoiding the name bc I've forgotten) were killed by a plague introduced by colonizers. It doesn't matter whether they had a good reason or not -- they were unable to fulfill the terms of their agreement (taking care of the longhouse), leading to chaos. Obviously you should read the actual book rather than just taking my typed-up-in-two-minutes-summary haha, but I am interested in the idea of agreements that last beyond your lifetime, intergenerational responsibility, and how the Winchesters fit into settler colonialism. This is especially relevant since spn is filmed on unceded Coast Salish territory.

#asks #💖💖💖💖

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thegeminisage · 3 years

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for the fic ask meme - 3, 9, 17, 23! <3

ANON MY BELOVED <3 thank you this is so many!!! sorry this took so long to answer!!!! i wound up having a lot to say rip

3: Do you have any upcoming WIPs? How far along are you with them?

i have 3!! there was one thing i was working on prior to nov 5 of last year, which i have only just started considering again. the tag for that is “secret project tag” because well. it is a secret. im not even saying that like “oh im playing i secretly do want to be asked” i dont bc if i told anyone about it i think that i would stop being able to work on it :( like i’m just not sure i’ll finish!!! in the beginning i didn’t even want to say that it was writing, yk? i only even started tagging it because it’s obnoxious to talk about something i can’t talk about & i wanted people to be able to blacklist. i am only about 10k into it, and it will probably wind up being quite long, 150k bare minimum, so it will probably be a very long time before it ever sees the light of day, IF it sees the light of day at all.

second wip is of course the claire-centric envesseled from @cambionverse. cally and i have been struggling with it on and off since 2013 and it is Finally Time. for anyone not familiar with it, cambionverse is a fixit for the end of s6 (initially written during the airing of s6) that centers on claire novak, cas’s vessel’s daughter from s4, ben braeden, dean’s not-kid from s3/s6, and jesse turner, the little half demon from season 5, as young adults. they’re basically ocs at this point and the idea was to do one story for each of them. we did one for jesse and one for ben and claire’s was supposed to be the end of the trilogy, but we got started on a bunch of side projects and had to rewrite almost everything to prep for it, so it’s taken nearly a decade. i am so glad to finally be getting to it!! right now we’ve got about 36k, the first chapter is completely done, the second chapter is in a couple of pieces we’re trying to stitch back together, and the third chapter has like half a scene in it. it’s slow going rn because we’re sort of putting everything from previous drafts back together in coherent pieces, but i think after we get to truly new stuff we haven’t written before (this is our third draft...) it will go a lot faster. i hope so anyway, because we have 7 chapters an an epilogue planned lol. and there’s no guarantee it won’t get bigger! as these things often do.

third & final wip is ofc triptych part 3, the third in the series after to an angel and broken road, currently being called 12:46pm because i don’t have anything better to call it. (12:46pm is when i had the idea for it, or more accurately when @cleaver-2007 GAVE me the idea like the horrible influence they are.) i wrote some about it here! right now i only have about 2500 words for it because i’m struggling with my structure + trying to devote most of my free time to envesseled. i don’t want to give away the big spoiler for its premise but i am really looking forward to it & also terrified because i have seen other people doing it and i think they probably did it/will do it better than me. the way i pick my projects out is “nobody else has done this in a way that satisfies me” or “nobody else has done this at all” because then i don’t feel like im competing with anybody. like NO ONE ELSE wrote a fic where all of camelot, including uther, got magic. i was the sole corner on that market so there was no pressure yk? but this is a fairly popular concept so im angsting hard about pulling it off!!!!!

9: Are there any fics you’d love to see but don’t want to write yourself? What are they?

weirdly enough not too many! most of the time if i REALLY wanna see something and no one else has done it i will simply do it myself, assuming im in a place where i can take on a big project. such as for example a good nuanced john winchester fic. i’m sure there are some but i’m blanking, nothing is coming to mind...i think the only one i can think of right now is really long season/series/episode rewrites, but even then i am reluctant to get too invested in longer works because What If The Author Has Bad Opinions. i bet i will think of a better answer to this question when i am trying to fall asleep tonight

17: What has been the proudest moment for you so far since you started writing?

ok, so it’s a tie. one is of course the huge response to broken road, particularly that bombshell of a 6th chapter...even though i don’t think broken road is my best work, it is by far my most popular one, and i was and still am absolutely humbled by the huge amount of people who followed along week-to-week, who sent in almost literally more comments than i could reply to before it was time to post the next chapter. i know fic popularity is a matter of writing for the right thing at the right time, but it felt like the work resonated with so many people! i can’t even describe with words how that feels.

the second moment is when i finished my first-ever fanfic, which was a novelization of ocarina of time. i started writing it because i wanted to read a novelization but nobody else got to the end...i’d read dozens of deku tree chapters and no ganon’s tower chapters. it wasn’t a great or even very good fanfic, but it was a FINISHED one, and as far as i know i was the first person on FFN (maybe even the only person on FFN) to actually get to the end. when i got done i was like “that is literally the most fun i’ve ever had doing anything and i wanna do it for the rest of my life” and i started a novelization of majora’s mask the very same day. haven’t quit since!

23: What’s one piece of advice you would give to anyone who wants to start writing or posting their writing online?

i actually have a whole list of advice posts but i’m going to cheat and do two again anyway. the first one is, OUTLINE. i swear by the triangle method which posits you need 3 things to do well: enthusiasm about what you’re doing, time to do it, and to know where you’re going next. that last step IS CRUCIAL.

my second piece of advice is to have fun!!! i see posts constantly about how wrting is hard and it sucks and people quit writing all the time because they didn’t get enough comments or whatever, but if i had based my willingness to write on the amount of comments i got i would never have finished my first story, let alone go on to write another (almost) two decades. if you can find even one person to be excited with your shit about, that can be enough. write bc you love to do it - if you don’t, why bother at all?

[fic ask game]

#liz answers asks #anonymous #ask memes #liz loves writing #long post #WAH ty i was so bummed i didnt get any this is so many ilu <3 #cambionverse #12:46pm #undisclosed project tag

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mira--mira · 4 years

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...i think that i remember that you had gone and had mentioned somewhere that hashi has got four mothers, like not all of them at once i'm sure, but i guess for different au's that you have got? so the soulmate au with hagane, then kuuru from boaf au, then kiyomi for oot au and whoever the last one is supposed to be! i've got to say that your worldbuilding is just awesome how you have come up with all of that and how detailed that it is

I did! I mentioned it when I posted the two Kou’s I drew but never got around to finishing that piece, LOL. I have my design references and they’re rough but I’ll post them.

Anon, it blows my mind that you kept track of all the oc moms 🥺 and just for you I will reveal the fourth mom! (though with the valentine’s one-shot it may bump up to five unless I decide to use Kiyomi there too LOL) This is a short breakdown and in order of who’s most likely to murder Butsuma at any given point. Why is that my mom-ranking system? I don’t know, but it is.

Hagane (Two Hearts, Tied Together aka soulmate au)

The quintessential terrifying mom who loves her kids but will kill anyone who threatens them. She’s skilled in genjutsu, long-range weapons (kunai, senbon, shuriken), and sensory techniques. I love Hagane, she’s one of my favorite characters I’ve ever made but it’s very hard to put her in any aus because 1. she will murder Butsuma or 2. she’ll abscond with the Senju kids and throw the plot into disarray.

Kiyomi (Out of Time)

Kiyomi’s actually a mix of Kuuru and Busuko in terms of looks/skills. Since she’s from Uzushio she knows fuinjutsu, in addition to being skilled in suitons and poisons (though she was mostly a healer, not a poisoner). Kiyomi has generally become my “base” for Hashirama’s moms despite her being created last. She’s a good middle ground of a warm, caring figure who also will do anything to protect her kids.

Busuko (Birds of a Feather)

Ah the mysterious fourth mom! We haven’t gotten to Busuko yet because I am behind in writing for BoaF but hopefully this answers some questions to those who are curious! Busuko is not Hashirama’s biological mother. Since so much of that fic is about exploring cultures and I plan to bring in Uzushio in a decently big way, Hashirama is the biological son of Kuuru, an Uzumaki. I mentioned in the last BoaF chapter there were two options for the Senju to deal with Kou 1. marry Butsuma to an Uzumaki for their sealing or 2. marry him to another clan with a water affinity strong enough to counter her. Busuko is from that second clan and was the option Butsuma first wanted to go with before the elders refused. That’s because while Busuko is a strong suiton specialist and a sensor she is, first and foremost, a poisoner and has a kekkei genkai that negates poison for her but makes her blood one of the most poisonous substances in the world. All that said, I’ve read a few fics where if Hashirama and Tobirama have different biological mothers, Tobirama’s is vilified to hell and back and that is not how this plays out. Busuko and Butsuma were in love before the Senju elders made their decision and while Kuuru did die early, Hashirama was a product of that union (ie one of the bigger reasons Butsuma dislikes him in this au.) But Busuko adopted him and considered him her own son and absolutely abhorred Butsuma’s attitude/treatment towards him. They fought about it a lot before she died and that’s why she’s third on this list instead of fourth.

Kuuru (Birds of a Feather)

Hashirama’s biological mom and Butsuma’s first wife. Kuuru is the youngest sister of Ashina and was married off when she was seventeen. (I know that realistically this kind of marriage would have been with an even younger girl but I already feel ill at imagining a seventeen-year-old getting married so I won’t go lower.) It was completely political and she didn’t like Butsuma but wasn’t in a position to say no. In their short marriage they generally avoided each other, especially after she got pregnant. Kuuru was an Uzumaki so she specialized in fuinjutsu and was one an up and coming sealmaster and historian, in addition to having a small water affinity. She died shortly after Hashirama was born due to complications from his birth.

I honestly adore worldbuilding and figuring out how events before the story impact it from the start! (It’s also therapeutic to add in multiple moms bc canon refuses to acknowledge them!)

#naruto #ask #anon #hashirama senju #hashirama's many moms #hagane #kiyomi #busuko #kuuru #out of time #birds of a feather #soulmate!au

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clarionglass · 3 years

Text

tagged by @dheiress to post the first line of my last 20 fics (thank you! <3)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 other authors!

aight my lads here we go, there’s going to be a few unpublished wips and other piece of dubious writing in here bc i doubt i have 20 stories but anyway, here we go (this is very long! press j to skip or just get that dash scrollin bc this might take a while :// ) in very rough chronological order going backwards, starting with the published work:

1. so i ran to the river (tma grifters au, unpublished yet but will be soon!): The sunlight feels different on a face fresh out of prison, and it feels even better to Jonathan Sims now that he’s truly home.

2. crowned by an overture bold and beyond (tma pretentious college au, based loosely on the secret history): It was a cool, rainy day in late March when I first approached the Magnus Institute--one of those days that served as a reminder that the London spring, that fragile creature, was still all too vulnerable to the occasional strike from the claws of winter.

3. we should ride this wave to shore (tma chatfic where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts): Friday, 3:14 P.M. “archives research & statement envestigation” Timothy Stoker renamed the group “drinks drinks drinks” Timothy Stoker changed Sasha James’s nickname to saucy sash Timothy Stoker changed Martin Blackwood’s nickname to martini kart Timothy Stoker changed his nickname to stonked stonked: so how bout it lads saucy sash: oh god.

4. i am the maker of rules (dealing with fools) (tma chatfic, an elias-and-peter-focused accompaniment to wsrtwts): Monday, 7:39 P.M. Elias Bouchard to Peter Lukas Elias Bouchard: Peter, I need to talk to you. Elias Bouchard: I’ve had the most infuriating day at work.

5. An Optimistic Tragedy (good omens orchestra au that i swear to god i’ll finish one day): Three years ago Eve shifted in her chair, her mind clearly on things other than Milhaud and the music in front of her.

6. The Spaces Between the Stars (the Beast of a dw fic that i can’t even begin to describe; a mate and i have been working on this since 2015 and it’s a sprawling mass of writing that encompasses Many google docs--what’s on ao3 atm is a very small percentage of it,,,,): The Doctor clutched the TARDIS railing as if somehow, it could take the pain away.

7. Carol of the Bells (a chrismas chatfic companion to aot! i’ve always been a sucker for a chatfic but oof looking back on this one my formatting style sure has changed): [Friday December 13, 1:31am] Anthony Crowley to Angelface: u up? ;)

8. An Exploration into The Nature of Human Beings, sub. Homo Sapiens: A Research Paper by Milton Jones (british comedy rpf. this is my oldest piece on ao3 and it shows, but there’s a special place in my heart for this dorky lil fic about an alien researcher making a place for himself in british comedy. fun fact! i actually added the final three sentences to this a couple of days ago, and will post it when i do my next fic update): <<I knew you’d be down here, as per usual. Do you never stop working?>>

and now for the stuff that i like but hasn’t yet/will never/one day, if i get my act together, might be posted to ao3... please ask me about these bc i love them, even though i’ll probably never post them :)

9. untitled mitchell spy comedy (a show that @monimolimnion and i want to pitch to the bbc in which david mitchell and victoria coren mitchell are married spies who work for MI5 and MI6 respectively, and most of britcom pops up in one place or another. it’s nothing more than a Lot of planning and a few snippets, but i love returning to this doc): [David is sitting at his desk, shaking his head at an open file.] David: They’re taking the piss. That’s what they’re doing, they’re taking the piss.

10. In the Demonic Style (a good omens au of @teashoesandhair’s glorious smooching contest piece, which is the first piece of fiction writing in the reblog chain. i’ve promised a chapter 2 to this, which i’m halfway through, and feel incredibly guilty for not finishing. still, my quarter-year’s resolution is to finish something old whenever i post something new, so maybe it’ll get done soon!): “It’s the end of the world” was not a good statement with which to start one’s morning in any circumstances, but the angel Bryndael was in the middle of cataloguing his newest shipment of tea samples when said statement reached his ears, and he didn’t much appreciate being disturbed.

11. magpie (good omens canon-mostly-compliant fic based around the song magpie by the unthanks/the magpie folk song/nursery rhyme): Wednesday (approximately 11 years before the end of the world) From a bird’s-eye view, St James’s Park was beautiful at this time of year.

12. untitled ficlet for tales of dwrwedd (a present for my writing buddy! the link is to her fic, i just wrote a bit of her two witcherverse ocs being soft as hell): The two women seated by the hearth didn't look old, either of them. But there was something about the pair--in their movements, or their mannerisms--that suggested an age far beyond what their unlined faces would suggest.

13: Tempo d’Attacco (an original bit of Light Crime a la midsomer murders, set in a university music department that is naturally a thinly-veiled copy of my own, hence why it will never ever be posted anywhere. i wrote this for my supervisor at the end of honours (her character is the sleuth) :P ) Dr Marisa Tan didn’t exactly start her morning well, on the day that everything seemed to upend itself.

patterns...... i’m not seeing that many, tbh? idk if i could call this in media res, but there’s certainly a good bit of plot starting without heaps of setup.

my favourite? hmmmmmm i’d say my favourites would be crowned by an overture bold and beyond, and in the demonic style. i gotta say, going back to revisit a lot of my older writing has been nice! time and distance have been v kind :)

i’m hella bad at tagging things so if you see this and want to share your own writing please go ahead! i’m very shy when it comes to Fandom Interaction (tm) so i don’t feel comfortable launching myself into people’s notes (i loved this tho! i just need other people to make the first move lol), however i will give a specific shoutout to @monimolimnion whose writing i adore and who needs to do this!

#clari speaks #clari writes #long post

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years

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Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck.

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person).

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

#long post anon #autumn-foxfire #let's talk hawks

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lilolilyr · 4 years

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Fics I Wanted To Write This Year But Didn't, Part 2: Star Trek AU

For @spookyvoidangelskeleton for this ask

Now I suppose these would have been several fics, but in a series or a collection as they're all about the same main storyline: The collapsing of a (or several) universe(s).

If you've known me for a while, you know that I am very into Multiverse Theory, both real life and fictional, and Star Trek with the Mirror Universe is of course one of the first fandoms that comes to mind for me to write my batshit ideas in xD

Basically, in my personal little (fictional, bc I know and understand 0 about real life physics or whatever would be relevant for this) multiverse theory, there are an infinite number of universes, evenly spread around the multiverse, and a new universe comes into existence when a timeline/universe (same thing) can go into 2 seperate ways naturally, or when there is timetravel involved to manually change a timeline: The original timeline won't be affected, you can't change what's already there, but a new changed timeline will be created.

Now, in some cases that works out well, with the timetraveller ending up in the new timeline and never knowing that their original universe is still out there- in other ways of time travelling, not so much. If the person trying to make a change manages to do just that but never notices, because they or a version of them is stuck in the orginal timeline, what do they do?

Try again, with the same result, many many times.

And that's where it gets problematic, because the multiverse gets unbalanced, and whether you see it as a sentient entity connected to the Qs in Star Trek or just as something that Works That Way automatically: the multiverse doesn't want to be out of balance, so the new universes start to collapse in on each other, creating a Splitter-verse and leaving its inhabitants to a fate arguably worse than death (in this fictional world): they completely stop to exist. This doesn't just affect the new universes but the surroundings ones, which would have split earlier and are already more different from each other, too, to make sure the one that was the cause for it all falls, too.

Now (of course, because I can't help myself) this would be part of @thelucyverse , with there being Central people trained in spotting such time anomalies before it is too late, but with there also being time-bombs (yeah hahah) created in inter-universal wars to create smaller, controlled splitter-verses (I say small and controlled here but like. We're still talking about entire universes), and with Central having back-up plans to get people out of the 'verses, in order as follows: anyone visibly IDing as Central (the organisation is still largely volunteer-based, shit's got to have some perks), then everyone whose energy indicates recent travel in-between universes, as these are also most likely to a) be Central and b) be okay in a new 'verse, after that, if there is still time and anyone willing to go back into the falling universe, children as they are also more likely to adapt in a new world. If there is enough warning, they also get out whoever people Central members want to have saved, but usually it just turns into whoever stands close enough to grab and get the hell out of there.

Whether taking people out of a universe against their will is a good thing or nah is ...debatable and still being debated amongst those who do it and those who think that taking someone away from the possibility of dying death in their own universe is vile (as amongst most religions, it is thought that you can only reach the same afterlife as those who died in the same umiverse- but again most also think that there probably won't even Be an afterlife in a splitter-verse).

Sometimes, people are also pushed out of the universe by the explosion itself, but they then tend to die upon impact as they seldomly end up exactly at the coordinates where they left, which leaves them either suffocating in hard matter or in space.

If you want to use these ideas for your own fanfic feel free, just give me credit and link this post as inspired by/ link to my ao3 or @ my tumblr!

Anyhow! To Star Trek... and I suppose this is now SPOILERS not rly for any Star Trek canon but for these fanfics, if I do end up writing them!

I tend to forget which characters are canon and which are complete OCs because I spend Way more hours on tumblr and ao3 + thinking about my own headcanons than I spend consuming the original media, but I am fairly certain a canon Joana McCoy, daughter of Leonard 'Bones' McCoy exists? If no and I stole the idea from sb else's fanfic I am sincerely sorry. Gotta look that up.

In one universe close to what would be the centre of the splitterverse, Joana- as a young child nicknamed 'Jojo', but now as a young teen trying to get rid of the childish nickname- has a younger part-vulcan girl as a friend, and this girl, nicknamed Aka, has, through having sticky fingers and connections to Central, a device that allows you to jump between universes. She's used it before and gotten into a lot of trouble for it, but to her it had always been great fun- until reality is starting to collapse around them while she is visiting Joana, and Joana is the only person she can reach in time and take with her to the next universe.

Distraught, the children are left in a new world, debating what to do, waiting for Central to contact them, hoping that they saved their families- but of course, Central has quite some different problems right now and won't contact them any time soon, and even if they did it wouldn't be with news of their parents: the adult families of non-Central members who only happened to have jumped between universes before themselves are really not the top priority, and the universe is collapsing too quickly to even get down the prio list to 'children',

Aka wants to leave the universe again and look for Central elsewhere, hoping that her moving around will attract their attention. Joana has enough from universe jumps for a lifetime. Thus, they part ways.

While Aka at some point does run into a group of Central troubeshooters who more or less adopt her as one of their own and teach her how to work their equipment and use magic and weapons and starships (not what a child her age should be learning. But then, none of the adults there ever signed up to be a parent, so who's to blame them), Joana goes looking for her family in this world.

Now I could write entire novels about Akas adventures and how it may or may not be healthy to not have a home at all and decide to not rely on anybody instead of either finding new versions of her original parents or letting someone new into her life properly (spoileralert: it isn't healthy at all), and how meeting a girl from one of the original splitter-verses (the not bombed ones) telling her not to make the same mistakes she made finally makes her think about her choices and and and, but this post is already going to be Long so I won't. That would all be a seperate fanfic anyways.

Joana finds a girl her age who looks just like her and acts almost exactly like her, too- the only difference seems to be that there's no Aka around, which made this version of her less used to adventure but also less wary of it.

The version of Joana from this universe- she decides to call herself Joan when they are alone, while the Joana we already know goes with 'Jojo'- her once loathed childhood nickname now a connection to her past- is thrilled to meet her and begs her to stay, I mean what is cooler than suddenly having a twin, and won't it be fun there is so much they can do! As their parents are seperated, they manage to spend their time mostly at one of their homes, either together when the parent is too busy to notice that there are two kids around, or one at each place, guessing correctly that if the parents were to talk about it, they wouldn't even think of the possibility of there being two children and instead just get mad at each other.

This goes on for a few months during the summer, with Jojo feeling vaguely guilty both to her original dead parents and these new ones who think that she is their real daughter, and the girls are just deciding about what to do when school starts again when-

Reality breaks apart around them.

Jojo clings to Joan in fear, and- as Jojo is now on the list of people who have travelled between universes in the past, she is saved by Central, and Joan with her. They are placed into a universe further away this time, a safe distance to the only slowly contained Splitters.

Meanwhile, in the same universe, two people were currently out on a space-walk: Michael Burnham and Philippa Georgiou.

They are thrown out of the universe in the explosion, and as they are wearing their suits, they survive as they end up somewhere in space again, but- they don't end up in the same universe. Michael ends up about 20-30 years earlier in a universe further away, and she doesn't even end up in what would've been federation space in her old 'verse. Philippa is only thrown one universe to the left and picked up by Central. As Central likes to name their acquaintances in some way that makes it easier to identify just which version of a person you are talking to without having to add the long universe number (even harder when the universe was destroyed and there isn't a known number), they ask Philippa to pick a new name. She is way too rattled and desperate to go looking for Michael as quickly as possible to care about what name she is supposed to have, so she goes with the first option given to those who don't have their own nickname ideas: lastname for firstname, making her Georgiana, short Gia.

Through Central, she finds out that the universal explosion left her and Michael connected- but it won't be much help in the search, basically just a way to say 'alright this verse is closer to it than that one', it's still trial and error... (I could also involve some body switching here, idk I already wrote a long fanfic with that trope in the Andromaquynh fandom, but I happen to Like that trope so yeah maybe I'll recycle some parts of In Your Stead if I ever do manage to write this Milippa story. Which, btw, if not already obvious, would again be a seperate fic from the Joana universal-sister story. On the other hand, Aka runs into Georgiana a lot, even calling her 'auntie Gia').

Meanwhile, Michael doesn't have to jump through universes but make her way through just the one universe to get to federarion space. Except what she find's isn't the federation at all... you guessed it, the 'verse she ended up in is more similar to a mirrorverse than to Prime. However, the Georgiou of this world isn't the emperor yet, she's young and Michael is able to influence her enough over the years so that she turns her back to the Empire.

Yes, it takes years for Michael and Gia to find their way back to each other, maybe decades... they also wouldn't have spent exactly the same amount of time apart as they aren't in the same 'verse. In fact, Cleo of Central carefully tells Gia that Michael might have died by now, but of course Georgiana doesn't want to hear this.

Michael and that universe's Georgiou also get quite close, though Michael doesn't want to cheat on her Philippa... of course, after years of this, she might think that she will never see Philippa again... (We are approaching ot3 territory here lol, and I don't even want to think about the potential of ot7 with the two canon mirror and prime versions adsfghjkl because if I finish this story here, I would 100% write a lil fix it where Central! Gia Mikay and Phil go fish Mirror! Michael and Georgiou out of a splitter-verse into the next prime verse in which Michael already knows that Georgiou... and ad they're already at it they also get half dead! Prime Philippa away from the Klingons... heheh sounds like the kind of poly chaos I would enjoy writing, but sadly I have to make it through all the Plot first)

Anyway! Back to Jojo and Joan: they decide that while they maybe should have told Joan's family about Jojo's existence soon if they had stayed in that 'verse, the initial idea of staying with one's universals wasn't so bad, so they go looking for this universe's Joana McCoy. The girl- (nicknamed Anna, which makes Joan decide to change hers from Joan to June because she doesn't want to be half Jojo and half Anna), is happy enough to meet them, but often feels left out from the other two as they act as if they've known each other forever even though of course it's only been a few months... In turn, Jojo and June aren't sure whether Anna really wants them around, whether she might think they're trying to steal her life and family from her...

Lots of potential for conflict! Yay! XD would of course come to a happy ending, with at least Bones accepting his three daughters, dunno yet whether they'd tell the mom... also Aka ends up in the same universe at some point, together with a version of her vulcan birthmother who she had never known the original version of but now gets along with alright... oh and if I do write aforementioned Milippa ot7 bullshitery, this would also be the Prime!verse for that, so all stories in the series or collection interconnect again!

this got... long... and I could obviously go on but I need to go back to writing my Bachelor thesis :(

@whoever read through all of this, do let me know whether you like these ideas and which you would like to read proper fanfic for! Might influence future writing decisions.

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years

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Hello. Thoughts on Dads!Harringrove??? the boys like in their mid 40s with 3 kids. what type of parents do you think they’ll be??? will their grandpa jim spoil them??? i love harringrove parents w all my heart. they both deserve a big happy family of their own 🥰

Hello, my thoughts are it’s the cutest damn thing ever and i could cry just thinking about it aUGH HARRINGROVE DADS.

Okay, so i’ve read quite a few things talking about the Harringrove Dads and adopting little babies, adopting sweet little girls, etc. and i absolutely live and die for that shit. Like i’m so serious, i think it’s so sweet, it warms my heart, i eat it up, i LOVE it

But also (and i’m sure i’m not the first to say it) I feel like they’re NOT the type to go adopting babies. They’re not getting a surrogate to raise a kid from infancy. They may want to, they may have that inkling, they may see Jonathan and Nancy having a baby and get that infamous Baby Fever, but I just… I really can’t bring myself to write that.

Bc (in my canon) Billy was adopted as a 17 year old delinquent. El was adopted as a 12 year old lab rat. Steve was basically abandoned at home when he got too old to be the “cute little boy” their parents could tote around to promote their Nuclear Family image. They’re two boys who were made very keenly aware that there are shitty people out there who believe kids get less desirable the older they get. Shitty people who think babies are worth more than older kids who probably just come with “problems”.

(i’ve also been rewatching Boy Meets World and GUYS. i see a lot of Billy in Shawn Hunter. Boy who’s taken in bc he’s been neglected and he’s a sensitive kid underneath but he’s got this hard, bad boy shell bc it’s easier than crying every day)(AUGH and just like Will in Fresh Prince goddamnit i fucking LIVE for those kids who think and act all tough and use their pretty looks like a weapon but all they really need is a caring and stern hand who’s gonna keep them on the straight and narrow and help them out along the way i am SOFT.)

So if these boys have 3 kids, it’s 3 kids who were seen as the “worst” of the bunch. 3 kids they fought to connect with bc these kids didn’t see anything in themselves anymore but goddamnit, Steve and Billy saw 3 kids beat and broken by the system that told them the older they got, the smaller their chances were of ever getting out of this place. They came with problems and fears and shells harder than Billy’s steel toed boots but like hell were Billy and Steve going to let these kids go the rest of their lives thinking they were damaged goods.

(god now i wanna write OCs of their children. look what you did to me!)

Okay so their parenting style changes as they grow and adopt more kids, as what happens with most parents. They learn what’s good and what’s not so good and they get better at fixing problems (but of course it’s never quite that easy bc they’re adopting kids of different ages).

And of course i’m saying they adopt the kids everyone has turned away, but for their first kid they adopt a little boy, about 5 years old, bc they gotta start small. He’s very cute and has a bit of a lisp and he mixes up some of his letters and he’s… energetic. He runs and he screams and he tires himself out real quick to the point where he just flops down and takes naps where he is, meaning there has been more than one occasion where Billy or Steve has found the child sleeping face first in the middle of a room (the entry room seems to be his favorite. Billy doesn’t blame him, the carpet is softer there than anywhere else.) One time he even flopped down on the middle of the sidewalk and again in the middle of a department store. Both times Billy scooped him up like a rag doll and carried him around the rest of their trip out.

And i know it’s not the BEST movie but i can’t help but think their parenting at the beginning would be a bit like the movie Big Daddy. Like, a lot of well-intentioned but misguided advice, a lot of “real world” lessons (like how to piss on the side of the road), a lot of hurried and frazzled solutions to things because “kids are messy why are kids so fucking messy why can’t he ever stay clean?”

“He’s just a kid, Steve, c’mon-”

“He’s always sticky! How! How is he always sticky? What’s making him so sticky!”

And I just!! Augh!! Imagine Steve at work all day and Billy has off/maybe he’s inbetween jobs right now so he can be home with the kid/whatever and so he has errands to run and takes their little kid with him and the kid’s like:

“What’s your real name?”

“You know that. It’s Billy.”

“…. why?”

And Billy shrugs with an “I dunno, cuz I couldn’t talk and my parents could and they had to call me somethin.”

“You could’n talk?”

“Hey, you couldn’t either.”

The boy thinks for a second before: “Could too.”

“Could not. Not when you were a baby.” He pokes the boy in the shoulder, still very tentative with how much the little tike can take. “Don’t start attacking me! You didn’t name yourself.”

They walk for a second but Billy chimes in before the kid can.

“Hey, that’s not fair though, is it?”

The boy looks up and shakes his head, but he can see the confusion in his eyes.

“You should be able to name yourself, right? What do you want your name to be? Anything in the world, what do you want me to call you?”

Which is how Steve comes home to their child and Billy eating some baby carrots smothered in BBQ sauce and his husband telling him: “By the way, the kid’s new name is Hot Dog.”

“…. what?”

“He picked it out himself.”

And just imagine Billy and the kid are going grocery shopping and Billy catches the boy reaching for a can of spaghetti-o’s.

Billy reaches for the can and takes it off the shelf. “You like these?”

The kid nods.

“Alright then. Watch out-” he hold the kid back gently before chucking the can at the ground. He turns to his boy. “Dented cans are half off. Y’know, Microsoft dropped 3 points.”

His kid nods in awe.

“Wanna pick that up for me?” Billy asks and the kid follows, before rearing the can back to throw it on the ground.

“Woah woah woah! Watch it there!” Billy grabs the boy’s arm, before aiming it a different way. “Aim away from your feet… there ya go. I know they’re kinda tiny targets but still, don’t wanna give yourself a flat tire there.”

The kid chucks it and Billy laughs. “Nice job, little dude.”

And i just have so many THOUGHTS about this!!! Their second kid being a little 9 year old girl who’s real fucking good at boxing and fighting and also a little too good at sneaking out the window. They’ve caught her a few times in the backyard or the front yard, just sitting around shivering. It always gives Billy and Steve a heart attack.

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asks, kneeling down to look at the girl, Billy taking note of her hands balled up into little fists.

“I heard a… noise. A loud noise.”

“Oh, yeah, your brother just dropped a glass.”

“Oh. Did you… did you… hurt him?” Her fists clench tighter, her shoulders get tighter, closer to her ears. Billy sees himself in it. He wants to ease her shoulders down out of her ears.

“No! No of course we didn’t.” Steve soothes, rubbing the girls arms soothingly. She looks skeptical.

But it becomes a pattern, and they realize it’s whenever she thinks something is going on or someone is in danger. To the point where if any loud noise happens, one of them rushes outside to look for Jordan climbing out a window.

Steve’s out there this time, grabbing hold of her middle and helping her out of the window because they’ve let their plants grow a little wiley and she was having a hard time getting past them. He sets her down gently.

“It’s fine, hun. You’re fine. Your dad just dropped a pan.”

“Oh…”

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What?”

“Ditching out the window like this.” He kneels down to look at her. “It’s not safe. And one of these days it’s gonna be snowing and you’re gonna jump out in your PJs and be all cold.”

“I’ve done it before.”

And if that doesn’t break Steve’s heart. He thinks about Billy when he was a kid. About the stories Billy has told him when he’s tired and a little drunk and feeling a little emotional. Steve loses himself in the sadness of the thought for a second.

He brushes a little bit of dirt off her shoulder.

“Yeah… well you don’t have to ever again, alright? I mean it. Nothing is happening to you here. We’re not gonna hurt you… Now give me a hug.”

She accepts it, which is big for her, and Steve squeezes her as tight as he squeezed Billy that one night he found him with a cut on his cheek and bruises all up and down his arms.

And then they adopt another boy. A 17 year old boy. A boy who’s been in and out of so many homes he doesn’t have a number for it. A boy who’s angry and jaded and… loves poetry and is so gentle with children and animals.

And him and Billy butt heads… a lot. They’re so similar… at least he’s similar to what Billy used to be. And it pisses them both off bc suddenly Billy knows what Hop felt- frustration. Utter frustration at this boy not understanding his fucking potential.

And i’ve written a whole dialogue for this but it’s long and very dramatic and I might just end up writing a fic about all of these little sweethearts (bc i have so many ideas!!!) but basically the boy telling Billy and Steve that he’s fucked up. He’s fucked up and no one will ever be able to change that and Billy is adamant that he’s not until he admits-

“No. You’re right, you are fucked up.”

Steve is shocked. “Billy!”

“No, shut up Steve.” Billy points at the kid. “You are fucked up. You’re a fucked up kid, and you know what? I’m fucked up too. And so is Steve. And so is your aunt El, and your Aunt Max, and your Uncle Will and Uncle Jonathan. And y’know what else? Your grandpa Jim is fucked up too. Hell, even your Grandma Joyce is fucked up. Wish I could tell you she’s not but ding ding ding! She is!”

And they get in a fight. There’s no fists, no touching, but it’s a major fight of Billy telling this boy what Hop told him once: You’re our kid now and we love you. And you can leave and never think about us again but we’re never gonna forget you.

And: “Don’t you dare fucking compare us to those assholes because I’m not giving up on you. We’re not giving up on you. You’re family now and no matter what you do, I’m gonna be there to worry about you and be happy for you because you deserve it!”

And Billy gets frustrated with all of his yelling so he grabs his stress ball and walks away, breathing heavy, and Steve is there to look the boy in the eye and tell him Billy’s right. And that he understands that the boy has a past before they ever met him “but Billy had a life before he met me… and same with me and him, and we can still love each other. So maybe we’re just on an even playing field. We get to learn about you while you learn about us and… and even so, we can still love each other, right?”

AUGH I’M SOFT. ANYWAY.

Hop and Joyce spoil them fucking rotten. It’s really hard to spoil a 17 year old boy as stubborn as an ox (“You were bad enough, now you bring me another one?” “You saying you didn’t like taking care of me, Pops?” “I’m saying I have enough gray hair as it is.” “Oh shush, Hop!” Joyce hits him) but they do their best. They give him love and support. Joyce bakes a shitton of cookies and cakes and Hop buys the kids toys (and the older boy CDs and records and band tees)(“I’m trying! The older I get, the less I know what kids what.”)

And they love all their aunts and uncles too! The little girl has a hard time reading and she reads way below her level, so Aunt El helps her out!

“I understand. I learned to read really late.”

“Really?” The girl’s heart lifts a bit. “How late?”

“I was twelve.”

“Really??”

El nods and gives a kind smile. “Yeah, but I learned, didn’t I? I had a lot of help, and I can help you, too! Just like your dad helped me.”

The girl smiles brightly.

Will’s favorite is the youngest boy (but he would never tell the other two that. Of course not.) because he’s silly and he took to Will almost instantly and he likes to roll around in the grass and catch bugs and those were never really things Will liked as a kid and he… he likes that. He didn’t think he’d ever like that but there’s something about this kid that brings out adventure in him. He reminds Will of Mike when they first met. A bundle of energy and excitement that always dragged Will around on adventures.

The older one hangs out a lot with Max and Jonathan. Jonathan likes hanging out with the kid cuz he reminds him of Billy when Billy was young. (“I don’t remember you being this… exhausting though.” Jonathan tells Billy.) (“You’re just getting old, bud.” Billy says with a laugh and a clap on the back) They smoke weed whenever they can and Jonathan gives the boy some good old 70’s and 80’s music to listen to and tells the boy “Meatloaf is not the best of our decade, don’t listen to your father. Either of them, honestly. Their music taste is shit.”

Max hangs out with the older one too. She gives him advice about girls and how to talk to them and she picks up a skateboard for the first time in years because of him. They go to the skate park sometimes and everyone there is amazed that a twenty something year old girl is here to skate with them until she skates circles around them. (She becomes the hit of the skate park)

She also wrestles around with the little 8 year old girl sometimes! She has a lot of heart to hearts with the kid, giving her advice as well and telling her silly stories of both Billy and Steve so that the girl learns to trust them more.

And overall they’re a big, loving family!! And they’re slightly dysfunctional too and i just! Can’t see it happening any other way!! Bc they’re a little dysfunctional but they’re dysfunctional with LOVE and isn’t that what matters???? It’s a lot of work and a lot of sweat and a lot of tears but it’s their family and in the end their kids love them to death bc they realize their fathers love them to death and!!! Everyone’s heart is full and happy and i’m crying!

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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

Swansong || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader

summary || sequel to ‘debut’. it’s sixteen years after you and roger first started dating. fourteen years since you graduated university. eight years since you married someone else. three weeks since you realised your husband was cheating on you. what are the chances that you run into roger, after all this time?

rating || family friendly, folks, apart from a few swear words here and there. just angst. pure angst, basically. with a christmassy, festive vibe.

word count || 5.8k (somehow, for fuck’s sake)

author’s notes || so, i’ve had quite a few people ask about a ‘debut’ sequel. surprise! here’s the sequel that i’m sure none of you were after. the idea just popped into my head and, despite the fact that i do not like reading angst (or writing, generally), here i am. also, this is a much older roger than i normally write for (he’s 52 in this), but i still wouldn’t call it pd roger by any means. this video is what i pictured when i was writing him - he was actually 52 years old in 1999, so it works perfectly. roger talks about his kids in this fic, but bc this is an alternate universe, of course, i’ve not used the names of his real kids. (sidenote: there’s an oc in here whose name is naoise - it’s pronounced ‘neesha’!)

masterlist

“I can’t do this anymore. I have to break up with him right now. I have to.”

Justine grabs your wrist, snatching your phone from your hand. “No, are you serious? What are you going to do, break up with him over the phone? Text him?”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you feel tears well in your eyes. “I can’t deal with this anymore, Juss. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Justine sets your phone down on the table, and cups your cheeks in her hands, brushing the tears away with her thumbs. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. Deep breath. In and out. With me.”

You follow her lead – a shaky breath in, a shaky breath out.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she murmurs. “I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, especially not my best friend. But you have to hold it together until after Christmas, okay? Just two more weeks. For April.”

You nod, and take another steady breath. “For April.” April, your daughter, the love of your life.

“Let’s just go to this stupid party, all right?” Justine said. “Go fix your make-up, I’ll call an Uber.”

You nod, she gives you a warm, sad smile, and you head to the bathroom.

You take a drink of water and sigh heavily, then dig out your make-up to fix your foundation and mascara. Fuck him, you think to yourself. Fuck him for ruining everything. Eight years of marriage. Hope that side piece was worth it.

You’re not sure if he knows that you know about… all of that. But you have your suspicions. He’s not exactly trying to hide it. Coming home late, smelling of another woman’s perfume, having no other excuse other than he’s ‘working late’. He’s been telling you for weeks that he’s just been ‘too tired’ for sex.

But he’s with April tonight, while you and Justine are heading to the Christmas party of an old friend from uni.

You tell yourself it’ll be a fun night. It’ll be nice to get away from home for a few hours, anyway.

The host, Naoise, welcomes the both of you with a glamorous smile and kisses on the cheek, and waves you over with a manicured hand to the drinks table. You recognise a few familiar faces in the room, but you and Justine stick mostly together. Christmas music – mostly Michael Bublé, from what you can hear – croons in the background, just underneath the hum of conversation.

“She was always good at throwing these things, wasn’t she?” Justine murmurs into her glass of champagne.

You nod and hum in agreement, trying to surreptitiously cram an appetiser into your mouth and eat it as quickly as possible. “Nice of her to invite us,” you manage to mumble around the mouthful.

“Yeah,” Justine says. “Naoise was always lovely.”

“Have you met her kids?”

“Yeah. She had them young, didn’t she? Right out of uni? They’re, what, ten and twelve now?”

You finally swallow the food. “Christ.” You pick up your wine and take a gulp to wash it down. “Uh, yeah, I think so. She and Chin got married, like, a month after we graduated or something. Can you imagine April being that old?”

Justine snorts. “I thought I had my kids young. But she seems happy, so I’m happy for her.”

“Mm, yeah.” You take another sip of wine. “Wow. Getting married at, like, twenty-one, twenty-two. Oof.”

“Right?” Justine says lowly. “Like, I would’ve been terrified. I was dating Amanda.”

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit, Amanda. I forgot all about her.”

“I know! I can’t believe we dated for almost three years. Even I forget about her sometimes. Can’t imagine being married to her. Eugh. Plus, if Amanda hadn’t dumped me six months after graduation, then I never would’ve met Jules. I wouldn’t have the kids I have now.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah. Weird.” Justine’s eyes idly meander over the mingling crowd, and then she looks to you. “Out of everyone you dated at uni, who would you have married? If you had to choose.”

You sigh. “Juss, I don’t know if I wanna talk about marriage and stuff right now. Not marriage when it’s got anything to do with me, anyway.”

“Right, of course. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You give her a reassuring smile.

The two of you drink in silence. You know you should be mingling with everyone else, making small talk, but it’s been a rough couple of weeks, to put it lightly. And everyone will be asking how’s Will? and all of those casual questions and you’ll feel overwhelmingly uncomfortable and bitter that everyone is prying into your personal life, even if they aren’t, they’re just being polite, and that’s just too much to think about.

So staying by the snacks table it is.

“Roger,” you say softly.

“Hm?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and glance at Justine. “I, um– I would’ve married Roger. You remember him? Second year? The older guy?”

Justine gives you a look. “Uh, do I remember him? The guy who was, like, twenty years older than you and you lost your virginity to? He paid you for it? Yes, I remember him.”

“Sixteen years, thanks,” you correct her. “And he didn’t mean to pay me for it, it was a mix-up, his friends set him up, and– oh, whatever, you know the story, I don’t know why I’m telling you again.”

“I’m just saying, hard to forget something like that,” Justine says. “You would’ve married him?”

You nod. “Given time, yeah, I think so. There was just something about him, y’know? I mean, it makes sense why we didn’t work out. He was older, and I had uni, and I’d never really dated before, all of that. I think it was just a matter of wrong place, wrong time. But he’s – well, everyone has their ‘one that got away’, don’t they?”

“I guess,” Justine says. She thinks for a moment, and then says, “I used to think mine was the girl I dated all through high school, Kayla. Then I met Jules.”

“Really?” you say. “You don’t have anyone who you think would have been your perfect match, had things just been a little different?”

Justine shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe at the time. But not now.”

You look away, and finish the rest of your wine. “I’m getting another glass,” you mutter.

“Hey, hey, [Y/N],” Justine says, taking your wrist. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault.” You hesitate, and then say, “Am I a bad wife for– for thinking that? Even after Will and I got married, I– I mean, I never wished I had Roger instead of Will, but I just always knew that, if things had been different, then I know I would’ve ended up with Roger.”

“No,” Justine says firmly. “No. You were never a bad wife. You’re still not. Don’t ever think that.”

You take a moment to drink this in, and then say, “You know, I’m the same age now that Roger was when I first started dating him?” You let out a laugh. “Oh my God, I’m thirty-six. When the fuck did that happen?”

Justine chuckles. “I know. I still feel twenty.”

“I still feel seventeen, sometimes.”

“I don’t think that ever changes.”

“No, maybe not.” You twirl the empty wine glass in your fingers. “I was head-over-heels for that guy.”

“For Roger?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Justine says with a grin. “I always thought it was just because the sex was really good. And he had the money to buy you nice stuff.”

“All of that helped,” you say lightly, and Justine laughs. “But he was just such a good guy as well. He was such a good listener, and he was so thoughtful and patient and understanding, and, I don’t know if you remember, but he used to do this thing where he’d invite me over if I’d had a hard day at uni, and when I arrived, he’d have a bubble bath all ready for me, and some snacks, and he just…” You trail away. No point in getting too caught up in the memories.

“I always liked him,” Justine says. “After I got over the age gap. For what it’s worth, I think he really liked you, too.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think he did.” You sigh. “Well. No use thinking it over, is there? Doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

Justine freezes, her eyes like dinner plates.

“Juss?” you say. “What, what is it?”

“No fucking way,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick to yours, and she grabs your wrist again, her grip tight. “You’re not going to believe this. I cannot believe this is happening. Turn around.”

“What?” You turn around, and your jaw drops to the floor.

Talk about speak of the Devil.

He’s older, definitely. How old would he be now? Fifty-two.

You wouldn’t have picked it. You would’ve guessed maybe mid-forties. But he always did have a bit of a younger face.

“Am I dreaming?” you say. “Am I actually dreaming?”

“What are the goddamn chances,” Justine says incredulously.

You watch as Roger greets Naoise, and then her husband Chin. By the way Chin beams, you guess Roger was his invite.

“Go say hello,” Justine hisses, nudging you.

You whirl around to look at her. “Are you out of your mind?” you hiss back. “I haven’t seen him for, like, sixteen years!”

“Then you’ll have so much to catch up on.”

“He wouldn’t even remember me. We only dated for less than a year.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re as hard to forget as he is. I’m sure he’ll remember forking over three months’ wages to sleep with y–”

“Jesus Christ, Justine, can you give it a rest already?”

Justine tries to smother a smile. “Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s too weird. Especially in light of everything, and this whole conversation, it’s… No. Maybe later, but not now.”

“Maybe it’s fate, or something.”

“Don’t,” you say, your voice hard. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

You leave Justine at the snack table.

You’re just deciding whether to stick to wine or to switch to champagne when a shocking familiar voice says behind you, “Good God, [Y/N]?”

Hearing him say your name again really is like something out of a dream – like a memory come to life. You turn to him, and, inexplicably, feel a blush heat your cheeks. You have no idea what to say, so you just say, “Roger?” as if you hadn’t already known he was here.

Up close, you can tell more easily that he’s aged. But he still smells good – different, but good – and he’s dressed nicely.

Still not wearing glasses, though. He never did. You used to pester him all the time about it when you dated.

There’s a moment of awkwardness, but both of you go in for a brief hug. It’s weird. You shouldn’t have gone for the hug.

“My God, it’s been how long?” Roger says with a laugh. “Fifteen years or something?”

“Something like that, yeah,” you say.

“You look great.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

“Oh, don’t,” Roger says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m actually old now, I know.”

“No, you do,” you insist. “Look good, I mean. Genuinely.”

His outfit is simple, black-and-white, which almost surprises you. He used to dress a little more eclectically; there was always something patterned or brightly coloured in just about every outfit he wore, especially to parties. Maybe it’s something he’s outgrown. The thought makes you quietly sad.

He does have a little reindeer pin on his lapel, though. It looks handmade, like something he would have bought at a market, made out of mini pom-poms and tufts of tinsel. So maybe he hasn’t outgrown that part of him entirely.

He seems a little flustered by your compliment, and, yep, that’s the Roger you remember. “Well, er, thank you. And I meant it too, of course.”

“Thank you.” An unmistakably awkward moment passes, and you blurt out, “You– How are you? What brings you here?”

“Funny story, actually.” Roger ducks forward and grabs a glass of red, and you take the opportunity to take some champagne. “I, uh, decided I hated dentistry, so I went back to uni and studied biology instead. Wanted to become a professor, but I was already thirty-seven when I started, and I would’ve had to retire by the time I got my PhD. I’m a teacher these days, high school teacher. Chin just started working with me earlier this year, and we hit it off, I suppose.”

You blink in surprise. “A biology teacher?”

Roger chuckles. “Yes, I know. My friends were all shocked and appalled when I told them. The salary’s miserable in comparison, but I don’t hate my life when I wake up in the mornings, so I see that as a positive.”

You hesitate, unsure whether to ask, but go for it anyway. “Did you always hate being a dentist? I don’t…” Is this too far? Is this out of line? “I mean, well, I don’t remember you hating it that much.”

Roger drinks this in, and then nods to himself. “Right, yeah,” he says, sounding almost surprised. “I, um, never really told you, actually. I didn’t want to, uh, force you to listen to me whine about a job I hated while you were studying and all of that.”

“Oh,” you say. You look at your champagne. You should’ve stuck to wine.“Well, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have minded. At all. As I remember, I used to whine about university all the time.”

“University’s for whining,” Roger says with a shrug. “I’d done my fair share of that already, all through dentistry school. And I got to do it again, as it turned out.”

“Is there, ah, anything else you didn’t tell me while we were dating?” you joke half-heartedly.

Roger’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, I–”

“No, sorry, I was kidding,” you jump in. “Obviously, I don’t expect you to…” You inwardly curse yourself, and pour some champagne down your throat.

Roger opens his mouth, as if to say something, and, in the back of your mind, you recognise that look, but you can’t quite place what it is.

Then someone calls Roger’s name, and the look is gone, and Roger politely excuses himself from the conversation to be swept up in another.

You bolt back to the snack table, as subtly as you can, but Justine is nowhere to be found. You quietly vow to throttle her next time you see her for disappearing on you, and shovel one more appetiser into your mouth, washing it down with champagne, then turn to face the crowd you’ve been immaturely avoiding all night.

It feels like an hour, but must be no more than twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes, before you find a reasonable excuse to slip away again. You’re not having a bad time, per se, and you’re enjoying getting to catch up with old acquaintances, but it’s damn exhausting. You still haven’t seen Justine.

You wish it wasn’t so freezing outside. You could do with some fresh air.

Maybe another drink will help keep you warm. Even though you know you shouldn’t. You’re already tipsy.

You take another flute of champagne and slip outside onto the balcony. The automatic light switches on.

Your fingers and toes immediately feel like they’re about to fall off. “Eugh, this was a mistake,” you mutter to yourself, and bob up and down on the spot. The balcony is dotted with snow, but it’s hardly been the coldest winter you’ve ever lived through. It’s not snowing right now, at least. And it is nice to have some time to yourself.

The back door slides open, and you turn to see who’s joining you, hoping it’s Justine.

It’s Roger. He gives you a smile – a little nervous, a little shy, almost – and holds out your jacket. “You looked cold.”

The first thing that comes out of your mouth is: “How’d you know it was mine?”

“I asked Naoise. Here, let me hold your drink.”

You pass him your champagne, and slip on your jacket, then take the flute back. “Thanks.”

“No worries.” Roger moves closer to you, standing beside you, and squints up at the dark sky. “Not much snow this winter.”

You follow his gaze. The moon is half-full. “No,” you agree.

The sounds of the party are muffled behind you. Beyond the balcony, you can see through the bright yellow windows of Naoise’s neighbours – the silhouettes of family dinners, of other parties, the white light of TVs.

“Sorry,” Roger says, breaking the silence. “You probably came out here to have some alone time. I shouldn’t have intruded. I can go back inside.”

“No, it’s all right,” you say. This is nice, you want to add. But you don’t know if that’s appropriate, and you can’t think of anything to say instead, so you just leave the sentiment hanging in the icy air.

“I realised I never asked what you’re doing with yourself these days,” Roger says.

“Ah, just working,” you reply. “I’m a market research analyst.”

“Oh, right. How long have you been doing that for?”

“Since I finished uni, really. Well, I worked my way up. Started as an intern in web content writing, realised I preferred data analysis, so I wormed my way into market research. But I’ve been an analyst for almost ten years now.”

Roger ponders this. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “I know it sounds boring. Most people think I’m mad for not only wanting to do my job, but actually enjoying it, but I do.”

Roger smiles, and it’s a fond smile, a smile that you used to see all the time, and you feel a stab in your chest. A voice in the back of your mind whispers, Do you remember what it feels like to be loved like that? When was the last time Will smiled at you like that? When was the last time he smiled at you at all?

You push that voice aside. You’re just lonely, and hurt, and sad. You’re reading far too much into a simple smile.

“I think it’s great that you love it,” Roger says. “How lucky you found something you enjoy doing so early in your career.”

You’re taken a little off-guard, and you duck your head to hide your smile. “Yeah, I guess I am lucky.”

You take a sip of champagne.

“Speaking of lucky – who’s the lucky man?”

You try not to cringe. “Oh. Uh.” You glance down at the wedding ring that caught Roger’s eye. “Yes. Um, his name is Will. We met at a work do, actually. Been married eight years.”

“He couldn’t make it tonight?”

“No.” You don’t elaborate.

Roger says nothing to that, and you wonder if he’s picked up on the bitterness in your tone, as much as you tried to hide it.

“Right,” Roger says eventually. He clears his throat. “Any kids?”

“Yes,” you say, and there’s no pretending now – the love in your voice is real. “April. She’s three.”

“April,” Roger muses. “Lovely name.”

“Thank you.” You grin at him. “Actually, this is going to sound so strange, but I always thought to myself that I wanted to be as good of a parent to my kids as you were to yours.”

Roger blinks at you – his eyes are still big and blue, but you doubted even God himself could change that – and, if you’re not mistaken, you can see his face start to colour in the beam of the balcony light. “Oh,” he says. “That’s… one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”

You chuckle. “Well, it’s true. You were such an amazing dad. I’m sure you still are.”

“I try to be.”

“How old are they now? Gosh, they’d all be finished high school now, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah,” Roger says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Yes, um, my youngest, Sam, she graduated last year. She’s taking a year off this year, working and travelling. Daphne’s the oldest, if you remember, and she’s moving in with her girlfriend soon. She still lives at her mum’s, but her and Asha have been looking for a place for a few months now. She’s an industrial designer. Then there’s Fox, he’s a musician, he’s a bassist, and Sophie’s still at uni, she’s studying theatre, and she wants to do a master’s in artistic directing.”

“Wow,” you say. You never got to know his kids personally too well – you met them a handful of times, but you were far too nervous to spend too much time with them back in the day. The last time you saw them, Daphne hadn’t even started high school. Sam was still learning to talk. “Wow, that’s– they’re so grown-up now.”

“God, you don’t have to tell me,” Roger says with a chuckle.

You shake your head, sighing, and drink some more champagne. “Do you have a lucky lady, then?”

Roger’s face tightens, and he looks down at his left hand, splaying his fingers, but you don’t see a ring. He tucks his hand into his pocket. “I’ve been seeing someone for two months now, almost three,” he says. “Jean. I teach one of her kids. She’s lovely.”

“Jean,” you repeat. “She couldn’t make it tonight?”

Roger shakes his head. “No. She’s a nurse, so she often works nights.” He pauses, and then says quickly, “She’s fifty.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Right.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I always go for younger women,” Roger explains hastily. “You were an outlier. A wonderful outlier, but an outlier nonetheless.”

“‘A wonderful outlier’,” you muse, a touch playfully. “Could be the name of my memoir.”

“It could very well be,” Roger says.

Something doesn’t sit quite right. It seems impossible that someone wouldn’t have married Roger in sixteen years. Surely he’s not just been dating on and off that whole time. Not a guy like him.

Don’t pry, you tell yourself. Don’t pry, don’t pry, don’t pry– “I don’t mean to pry,” you say, and hate yourself for it, “but – did you ever get remarried, or…?”

Roger looks a little taken aback.

“Sorry,” you say. “That’s so rude, I’m sorry.”

“What gave it away?” Roger says.

You bite your lip. “You, um, looked at your left hand. No ring.”

Roger nods. “Hm. Well. Got it in one.” He shoots you a wry smile, but you can see that he’s uncomfortable. “You seem to keep appearing in my life after I’ve gone through a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s all right,” Roger says. “It was a year ago now, just about.”

“Were you married long?”

“Twelve years.”

“Christ, Roger, I’m sorry.”

Roger just shrugs, and sniffs, staring out at the apartments and houses beyond the balcony. But you can see the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m divorcing my husband,” you blurt out.

Roger looks to you. “I thought so,” he says carefully. “I could see it in your face when I asked about him.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be. He deserves it.”

Roger grimaces. “Oh.”

“He’s been cheating. But I want to wait until after Christmas to– to do all of that. To tell him I’m leaving him, the lawyers, the paperwork. So April doesn’t have to go through it during Christmas. I don’t want to ruin it for her.”

Roger nods in understanding. He looks for a moment like he wants to reach out and touch you, comfort you, maybe, but he doesn’t. He just nods again and says, “You’re a good mum.”

Your throat tightens, and you have to look away. You don’t dare to try to thank him for the compliment. The last thing you need is to break down at a Christmas party in front of your ex.

“I’m sorry,” Roger says.

You manage a forced laugh, turning to him. “For what?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I just… felt like I needed to say it.”

You drink him in. The moment feels familiar somehow, and simultaneously foreign altogether.

You sniff, but, luckily, no tears have fallen, and you take a breath to compose yourself.

“Can I get you another drink?” Roger offers, holding out his hand to take your empty flute.

“No, I shouldn’t,” you say. “I’ve had more than enough.” You chuckle. “I don’t remember ever saying that when we dated.”

You expect Roger to laugh along with you, but instead he blinks in shock at you. “Oh, er, I– I also never– I’m glad you…”

“You’re glad what, I enjoyed getting shitfaced?” you tease, not quite understanding his confusion.

His eyes go wide. “Oh, drinking. Yes, well, everyone’s like that at uni a bit, aren’t they?” He chuckles uncomfortably, and then rushes out, “Just getting a drink,” and disappears inside.

You frown to yourself. ‘Oh, drinking’? What else could you have possibly meant?

Unless Roger thought you were referring to–

Surely not.

Referring to the sex?

Your stomach drops to your feet. “Oh, God,” you groan softly, hiding your face behind your hand. You hope Roger doesn’t think you’re flirting with him.

That’d be a story to tell the kids, wouldn’t it? Or to tell Jean. Hey, love, guess what happened last night? Ran into an ex, I dated her almost twenty years ago for a couple months, and we weren’t even chatting for more than half an hour before she was cracking onto me. Even though she’s married. Turns out I still got it!

A shiver rocks through you, and you realise you can’t feel your fingers, but you’re loathe to head back inside. It’s nice out here, in the snow and ice, in a stiff, numb sort of way.

Roger reappears not long after, wine in hand. “Thought you’d have headed back inside by now.”

“I probably should,” you say, and cross your arms to warm up your hands. “But no, I don’t think I will.”

“Do you mind if I stay out here with you?”

You smile. “Not at all.”

You don’t know for how long the two of you stand out there. With each passing minute, more of the awkwardness and discomfort slips away. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but soon the two of you are chatting away like no time has passed at all, laughing and bickering.

He tells you more about the kids, and you tell him about April. He tells you about his second ex-wife – a title that he despises, and, for a while, you let him bemoan the notion that maybe he’s just a terrible husband before you tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself.

Mostly, you both reminisce about the past. About the good times and the bad.

“It was mostly good, though,” you say. “I like to think it was mostly good.”

Roger nods thoughtfully. “I think it was, yeah,” he says.

“I can’t even remember how we broke up.”

Roger snorts. “Are you joking?”

You shake your head, shrugging. “No. I remember going through the break-up period, which took me far longer to get over than I’m willing to admit to you.”

Roger grins. “Oh, yeah?” he teases.

“No, don’t,” you warn him with a laugh. “You’re not getting an ego boost from me.”

“Did you cry every night? Have a photo of me under your pillow? Eat lots of ice cream and watch rom-coms?”

“Shut up, I’m not saying a word.”

Roger laughs, and the sound of it makes your heart sing. “You’re not saying no.”

You roll your eyes. “I was in a lot of pain for a long time,” you say. “There, are you happy?”

Roger’s smile fades, and he looks down at his feet. “No, of course that doesn’t make me happy,” he says. He looks back to you. “For what it’s worth, I probably took even longer to get over you.”

You study his face. It’s a little more weathered, a little more lined, but it’s a face you missed for a very long time. “What happened?” you ask, so softly it’s almost a whisper, like you wouldn’t dare to speak the question any louder. “I… I really liked you, Rog. A lot. Loved you, even, although I– I didn’t know what love felt like at the time. Where did we go wrong?”

Roger swallows, and shakes his head minutely, his eyes drinking in yours. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Wrong place, wrong time. But I…” He cuts himself off, and takes a deep breath, looking away.

“But what?”

“Nothing.” Roger gives you a small smile. “I’ve never met Will, but he sounds like the stupidest man alive to hurt you like that.”

You snort a laugh. “Well. I’m sure he doesn’t think so.”

“It’ll be too late by the time he figures it out. Stupid men are like that.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything at all. All you can think is that Roger really hasn’t changed much at all, and that Jean is a very fortunate woman.

Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket to check it. “Ah, shit,” you mutter. It’s Will. April’s come down with a fever, the text says. Need you home.

“Is everything all right?” Roger asks.

You pocket your phone again. “April’s sick,” you say. “Duty calls.”

“Right, of course. Let me walk you inside.”

He opens the sliding door for you, and waves you in. “Age and beauty,” he says, and it catches you unaware, makes you laugh.

“I forgot you say that,” you say. It’s a play on age before beauty – Roger used to say that you bested in him both age and beauty, so the original phrase didn’t fit, and he insisted on saying his version of it every time he opened a door for you. Which was often. He liked that his silly little phrase made you giggle and give him a gentle slap on the arm.

“I haven’t said it in a long time, actually,” Roger says with a grin, closing the door behind him, trapping you both in the warmth, along with the music and conversation. “Not since you.”

You both stand there for a moment, grinning at each other, unsure how to proceed, and you feel a familiar squeeze of your heart. “I need to go,” you say, almost apologetically.

“Yes,” Roger says.

“I…” You hesitate. “Wait for me at the door, I just want to make the rounds, say quick goodbyes to everyone.”

“Sure,” Roger says, and you give his arm a quick squeeze, then track down Naoise and Chin to say your thank-yous and farewells, then Justine, then a couple of other people.

You grab your purse, and meet Roger at the front door. “I had a really nice time tonight,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” he says.

You’re unsure what to say, but then an idea strikes you. “Do you want my number? It’d be nice to keep in touch.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Roger says. “That’d be lovely.”

He hands over his phone, and you save your number. “Give me a call whenever,” he says, as you hand his phone back. “If you need someone to talk to, y’know. Or just for a chat. Divorces are… really not fun.”

You chuckle wryly. “Well, I suppose you’re the expert, aren’t you?”

“God, you’re just as rude as I remember,” Roger says with a roll of his eyes, laughing alongside you.

He stops in his tracks, his gaze towards the ceiling.

You tilt your head up. A decorative sprig of mistletoe hangs above the door.

You and Roger look at each other, your faces both pink.

Your heart clenches. Yes, Jean is a very fortunate woman indeed. “Funny,” you say with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, weird,” Roger says. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen mistletoe in real life before.”

“Me, either.”

Another moment passes. “In another lifetime,” you say with a smile.

Roger takes a breath, and there’s something in his eyes, something you haven’t seen for a long time, and he nods, smiling back. “Yeah,” he says. “Right time, right place.”

You nod again, drinking this in, and sigh. “Okay, well, I really do need to go. I’m sure Will is on the verge of panic without me there.”

“Of course,” Roger says. “I hope April’s all right.”

“Thanks, Rog.” On a spur of the moment, you give him a peck on the cheek, and then let yourself out. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he says. “I might see you soon?”

“You will,” you say. Your ride is almost here, so you give one final wave, and head to the lift.

The door closes.

You take the lift down and climb into the car.

You go home, say hello to your husband, and take care of your daughter.

That night, you sit in the dining room, nursing a hot chocolate, listening to the silence of the house.

Then, and only then, do you allow yourself to cry.

Your wallowing was short-lived, though - swiftly interrupted by a phone call from an unknown number.

You wipe your nose on your sleeve, grimacing, and answer. “Hello?”

“[Y/N]?”

You’re gobsmacked. “Roger?”

“I- I wasn’t expecting you to answer. I was just... going to leave a voice message to say this was my number.”

You let out a pitiful bubble of laughter. “Why didn’t you just text?”

There’s a pause, and then an embarrassed, “Oh, yes. I could’ve done that.”

You sniff. “It’s fine, no harm done. I’ll let you get to bed, it’s late.”

“Right,” Roger says. “Um, how’s- how’s April?”

“She’s good, yeah, thanks for asking. Gave her some painkillers and she went right to sleep.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Yes.” You sniff again, wetly, and quickly wipe at your nose a second time. “Ah, well, I, um... should probably...”

“Go, yes,” Roger says. “Sorry. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no, not at all,” you reassure him. “I was just, um, having a hot chocolate.”

“Right, sounds important.”

You laugh. “It’s very important.”

“I’m sure it is. I’ll let you get back to it, then.”

“I appreciate it.”

You realise you’re smiling to yourself like a loon. “Thanks for calling,” you say.

Roger chuckles. “No worries at all. And, um, seriously. If you need someone to talk to, at any time, please just call me. I couldn’t bear the thought of you, I don’t know, sitting alone and crying, or something like that.”

You almost laugh out loud. “Thank you, Rog. I’ll make sure to save your number.”

“Please do, so I don’t have to call you in the middle of the night again.”

You smile. “G’night.”

“Night, [Y/N].”

You hang up.

Your hot chocolate tastes a little sweeter than it did before.

#mine #my writing #roger taylor x reader #queen fanfiction #rpf #angst

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