#made some slight changes to match personalities a bit more but overall its the same | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

t-lostinworlds · 4 years

Text

Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @badreputatiom @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl @caramelscoffee @thenoddingbunny-blog @sarcasticallywitty15 @call-me-baby-gir1 @miraclesoflove @tanakaslastbraincell @itstaskeen @hollanddolanfangirl ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @peaches-parker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @spideyspeaches @givebuckyhisplumsnow @asoftie4bucky @dandelionxgal @peterspideysstuff @zspideyy @lmaotshollandd @sluttytears @likearainbowinthedark @hommyy-tommy @madz-holland @becicamina

just let me know if you want to be removed from the taglist hun! <3

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland reader insert #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom #my writing

733 notes · View notes

engineer-in-space · 3 years

Text

a simple call of the wild review that is totally professional and not way too detailed by me (February)

It's gonna be a bit of comparing to previous powerwolf albums/songs and remember everything is my own opinion. If you disagree/agree we may talk about it in a civilized way, I actually love talking to others about this shit!

But otherwise (hate, insults, etc.) you can keep your opinion somewhere where I can't see it :) Also, the album has barely been out for a day and things change with time and I may grow to like certain things more. (but there's not too much that I don't like tbh) But I hope you enjoy this metalhead-gremlin's ramblings!

Faster than the flame

I had to listen to it quite a few times before I could say anything about it. It's a powerful start into the new album, however, it is (as previously stated) powerful but didn't blow me away like the first songs on the previous albums. (Fire &forgive, Blessed &possessed, amen & attack - wait am I just now noticing a pattern here? oh my god. Anyway.) Maybe I got that personal feeling that I want it to be Fire & Forgive, which is, of course, not possible and would be boring. So i think I'm not even critizing the song but rather the order of the songs.

It feels like a typical powerwolf song; both lyrics and instrumental. Fast, heavy, something about flames and burning - awesome. The two Latin parts (I think it's called the pre-chorus? man, I have no idea and will just throw around these words because my internet connection is too bad to look this up. But if you listen, you'll know which parts I mean.) already give me goosebumps. I also really, really liked the bridge (again?? idk??) aka the "flame, flame, burning wild in heavens name" part. This was the most memorable part for me after the first time listening. Of course, the guitar arrangement throughout the whole song is just... god bless. I must say that using the word "pastor" is dangerous because my stupid brain keeps thinking Attila is singing about "pasta" again... Oh well, moving on!

Beast of Gevaudan

Man, I've been listening almost non-stop since it was released as a single! At first, my head was comparing it somewhat to army of the night but after a few times this feeling was gone and it became an awesome new idea/song. The choir and orchestra part are so well placed and support the rest of the instrumental and Attila's voice perfectly. Again, much fast, very powermetal. I've grown very fond of the guitar solo. The lyrics tell us a little about the story of the beast and I. Love. Storytelling. In. Songs. Glad matthew finally came around to put his idea out there!

This song also has a video, which left me speechless at first. I love Attila's acting so much??? And making this sort of their own story of Jesus was such a cool idea. Production is high quality as well (didn't expect anything less after The Sacrament of Sin MVs) and there were really nice shots in there. I doubt that I will get tired of this song and this video anytime soon!

Dancing with the dead

That choir stuff in the beginning, following by that awesome guitar riff already had me. I couldn't stop listening to this one either. This might be, in my opinion, the most catchy song on the whole album. The intruments are in perfect harmony with Attila's heavenly voice. The transition into the guitar solo is so damn smooth and well done. I'm having a whole crisis about how good this song is.

The lyrics are interesting too! Again, there's a story to be told. As far as I can interpret it, being introduced to some darker powers and growing to enjoy them, despite previously having lots of faith, is what's going on here. It has this slight feeling of... corruption (in a good way of course). This makes me want to go dancing (with the dead)

This one also has a video! Once again, very high quality. Every band member had their "special moments/shots" and just looked stunning. But Attila left them all behind this time. Slow dancing, in a suit, with that smirk on his lips??? Well done, my dude.

Varcolac

This one's dark and heavy. It brings me back to the good ol' times of Lupus Dei and Bible of the Beast. Just with more orchestra, choir and overall harmony. It makes me so happy that Powerwolf is using so many real life legends and figures on this album! And they did such a good job with them as well. If this song was alive, it would be a scary beast.

The typical metal elements and orchestra/choir parts are very well balanced. And the organ throughout the whole song is fitting. It supports the dark and sinister feeling of the whole thing. My favourite part may be the "And as army we bing fire..." parts! Man, I just love werewolves. Also, I think Attila's famous gibberish singing made a return in this one!

Alive or undead

Oh boy,here we go. The piano in this one is incredible. "Here we STAAAAAAND!" Goosebumps and shivers. Everything about this is so emotional andreading the lyrics while listening just makes me want to cry, ok?! T_T Powerwolf has become so flexible, exploring different ways to make music. This could have been some kind of typical powermetal song but it's not and I'm glad about it.

Even if it's a little different, they never stray to far from what makes them special. The few parts, reminding one of typical church music would not have been necessary but are appreciated! They know when to leave out the guitars and go slowly. What bothers me a little, is that it somehow feels like Attila's voice had a tiny bit more potential up to the chorus. It could've been a little bit softer? if i can put it that way. But honestly this song is raw emotion and everything still fits together. If you thought their first ballad was emotional, buckle up, this one kicked me right in the feels.

Blood for blood (Faoladh)

Powerwolf ventures again into the folk metal territory and successfully conquers it! Could be a headline of something. Anyway, this song is a very worthy successor of Incense & Iron! It just makes me happy, its melody is so light - combined with your typical Powerwolf lyrics. Perfect song to start jumping up and down! It radiates motivational energy. Just like Dancing with the dead, this song has a very smooth transition to the guitar parts.

The melody is strong but still easy enough to quickly get into it! I can barely sit still and write this aaaa. Seriously, I am just happy with this song and will go jump and headbang a while to it!

Glaubenskraft

I have returned from jumping and oh no. It's a German song. Bold of them to go all out on that Latin beginning... it works really well though! It might be because I'm German but this song hits hard. Very hard. It's not easy to make this language sound good and ( if you don't happen to know much about German) the lyrics consist of a bunch of old words and grammar you wouldn't normally use anymore. But they made it fucking work!!! The quiet verses only make the pre-chorus and chorus itself heavier and blow me away. And SOMEHOW this super epic song with (made up, at least I'm pretty sure they don't exist like that) Latin words is about.. you know what Powerwolf writes about a lot. And I LOVE that. It's so subtle and only if you read into it, you're like "wait a minute".

This song has a feeling of corruption too. But not in a good way this time. It feels evil and intimidating and - honestly, I can't get enough of it. Everyone of my neighbours will think I'm some kind of weird Christian fanatic because I WILL yell "Glaubenskraft" just as much as I yelled "Stossgebet". Worth it, tho.

Call of the wild

The song with the same title as the album! (or the other way around, whatever.) This song is just catchy from the beginning to the end. Like many other songs its fast and hard. Just how I like it. Don't take that out of context.

The lyrics and instruments go wild (haha get it), with a really neat Latin pre-chorus. It's very fun to listen to. Personally, it makes me feel like I belong to the pack. That we're strong together, that we can say fuck it once in a while and just go crazy. The chanted part near the end of the song reminds me strongly of Sanctified with dynamite (ya know "die, die dynamite" and "call, call, call of the wild") and it's really cool they pick up on old things once again. Be it intentional or not. It's a reminder that they still are who they were back then - and their music is still fucking incredible.

Simply an epic song, strong vocals, strong guitars. I really, really like the intro. Attila has to sing so many words in such little time, does he even need to breathe now and then?

Now I'm wondering what came first; the album title or the track title? Chicken or the egg?

Sermon of swords

First of all: WHAT IS THAT OMINOUS VOICE IN THE BEGINNING. Mark me down as horny and scared. Ahem.

I really like how the verse and the chorus have their own theme and melody going on and yet they're connected. The chorus is super catchy too! And just say it yourself "Sermon of swords", how cool does it sound??? The choir in the beginning is a really neat introduction into the whole song. The lyrics match the whole album, very much a soundtrack to go on a crusade to, like Raise your fist, Evangelist or Christ & Combat. Just... "AAMEEN!" Ok, I'm actually going insane here, calm down, Feb. These might be my favourite lyrics of the whole album I think?? (unless I said that somewhere else already, then i have more than one favourite.)

The whole song has a more "classical" feeling to it, not only in the Powerwolf sense but also in the Heavy Metal sense in general. BUT. Orchestra and choir are prefectly mixed, especially supporting Attila in the chorus. The guitar solo is really cool and sounds very Greywolf-y, if you know what I mean. It's just Matthew's style.

Undress to confess

The name of this song says it all. This is your friendly reminder that no matter how much they preach about Jesus or the Devil, Powerwolf should not be taken too seriously. When I first saw the title I couldn't help but chuckle a little.

The melody is pretty catchy and easy to remember, the organ and general approach reminds me of Demons are a girl's best friend. I absolutely love how the lyrics are on that thin line of somewhat poetic and ridiculous. Let me provide two examples here: "all the world we posess for desire and sin we carress" - man, this sounds pretty.

And there's also "dressed to hide the dark, and obsessed to ride him hard on the.... crucifix." Yeah, I... I don't know what I expected here. Anyway, this is how you describe church sex without actually using explicit words. (why are you booing me, i'm right)

Still really nice to listen to and have a good time!

Reverent of rats

We arrived at the last song of the album! And here we picked up on the speed and power again! The way the organ is played during the verses makes it so... sinister. Again, this piece reminds me of Lupus Dei. The verses keep the sinister feeling while the chorus picks up more... drama? An epic melody mixed with epic words make my soul ascend to heaven.

This guitar solo is also the absolute good shit. It might be my favourite from all the songs of this album?! Additionally, the drums? I don't know why but they really stand out here. Love how fast paced they are.

Aaaaand that's it! If you've read all the way through holy shit, you are actually a badass. Thank you for staying with me, my werewolf friend. Maybe we'll meet where the wild wolves have gone. But always remember: Metal is religion.

#powerwolf #call of the wild #album review #well sort of #come talk to me about it i love the whole thing!!!!

21 notes · View notes

the-moon-prince · 4 years

Text

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter I

AN: Hi my lovely fellows! I’m making a Kurapika x reader! This will be the first chapter. Overall I’m trying my best for you to insert yourself in the story as good as you can. However, some point who are going to be relevant in the plot a little further, like (Y/n)’s age, Profession and first language have been modified.This is my debut as a fanfiction writer here on tumblr!

As now, I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the first chapter of my story. (Second coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 783

TW: None!

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

5 am The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears. The same noise as every morning. Another day to go on. He woke up with this peculiar feeling, but so familiar to him. That unnamed pain hit him again as his senses started to stir. The bed beneath him felt cold and foreign. The morning was dull to him. Seeking to shake the feeling away, he sat up and stretched. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes burned. Just another morn after a terrible night with limited sleep and disagreeable dreams. That tiredness was omnipresent in his life for the last months. He immediately saw the space that wrapped him. Empty, just the drawer, nightstand, a lamp, and blank white walls. Finally, getting up from the bed and arranging the also white sheets. Going to the drawer and pulling out his work uniform; a white shirt, black trousers, black tie, and a black jacket. Taking his loose pajama pants and shirt off and starting to button the white shirt. Thinking annoyed at how he had to abide another day Neon dramatically said how sad, miserable, and lonely she felt. The fairly frustrating attitude she had been insisting on the last weeks. What did she know about misery and solitude? Once dressed, he left his bedroom to the tiny hall of his apartment. Leading to the small room alongside his. The big black door remained in front of him. He stared at it for a moment. A certain doubt in his mind made its presence. Lastly, he opened the door, glancing at the scarlet eyes floating on the jars displayed in the room, and closed the door. The emptiness seemed greater than the last morning. He wondered one more time while putting his shoes on, what did he yearn? What did he lack to feel once more this abyss? He stepped outside his home and took a deep breath, the swampy air feeling his lungs. And head straight to the Nostrade mansion. He passed the big entrance gate, the security of the Nostrade's residence, and arrived at the main room. Unlike what Kurapika might have thought moments ago, there was something new that morning. An unknown person was sitting on one of the multiple couches, apparently waiting. Wich piqued his curiosity. Their guise was quite formal and unique, white cigarette bottoms and a moss-green long-sleeved sweater with a white dress shirt underneath. However, the shirt's collar was embroidered with a peculiar decoration. A botanic motif of tiny red, yellow and blue flowers plus green leaves was along the tip of the collar. Naturally, Kurapika carefully observed the intruder to determine if it was a possible menace. The individual had (long/short/medium/ with bangs) (curly/straight/wavy)(hair color) hair; it was loose and a bit messy. Some strands were framing their face. Their body had a juvenile apparent, around one or two years younger than him however their face looked more childlike. Their gaze was lowered into the book, so Kurapika was unable to see the eyes. He just saw the (long/short) eyelashes moving with the occasional blinks the person gave and some eye bags from fatigue. They were sitting with their legs crossed, one hand was holding the book, and the other was rubbing the green fabric of the sweater between the index and the thumb. They gave an overall serene aura. It wasn't long before a butler came near Kurapika. -"Mr.Kurapika, Sir. Nostrade requested to have the young guest to his office. For security reasons Sir. Nostrade wants one of the bodyguards to watch over the guest. Please take them there." Kurapika agreed with a quick "understood" and made his way towards the outsider. Kurapika stopped in front of the sitting figure. "Excuse me, Mx"- The person reading gave a slight quiver in surprise to immediately put the book down and look up at him with a subtle and soft smile. Despite looking up at him, they didn't look directly into his eyes, fixing more in his mouth.- "Mr.Nostrade charged me to take you to his office, please accompany me." he addressed the outsider with a secure tone. "Hello, and thank you" was the quiet response the stranger gave him. Getting up and ranging the book in a black side bag. "This way." The person quietly followed behind him through the hallway, examining the distinct decorations and pieces of furniture all over the mansion. Once the both of them arrived at the office's door, Kurapika gave a knock, letting their attendance be known, followed by a grave "Come in" from Light Nostrade. Kurapika rapidly opened the door and entered the room. At the center of the room was Light Nostrade, sitting at his big wooden desk. Accompanying the desk, a coffee table and matching sofas were placed over a luxurious carpet. In one of the sofas, Neon was sitting playing with one of her stuffed toys. Mr. Nostrade without a word gave the guest sign with his hand to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, as the foreigner obliged. "Neon, this is (Y/n), they're your new companion and therapist. As you have let me know lately, you've been feeling bored and alone. As your dad, your welfare concerns me. So I searched for one of the best professionals to improve your state." -The man addressed the young girl next to him, to take the phone to his desk right away and address it to someone on the other line-"Let the rest of Neon's bodyguards in" -In an instant, the rest of the bodyguards entered the room- "Mx. (Y/n) present yourself to the rest" Mr.Nostrade finally ordered. (Y/n) got up in a unique move from the chair, and facing the rest of the company in the chamber, with their hands clasped in front of their body, they declared "Hello, I'm (Y/n) it's a pleasure to meet and work along with you."-(Y/n) presented themselves with a small politeness reverence, then they turned to faced Neon-"Neon, I am a Doctor with a specialization in psychiatry medicine. I, moreover, am a certified Hunter and I'm here to take care of your psychological and physical integrity. If required I can protect you in case of aggression. Besides I'm here to treat your loneliness and improve your mental health. I honestly hope my faculties will help develop several health skills!" they finally finished, all the discourse was made with the same quiet and kind voice tone, with the subtitle smile never leaving their face. After the quick initiation, Neon's face went from attentive to a worried grimace to shout "DAD!!! AM I SICK?!?" (Y/n) tilted their head and stepped to Neon softly reassuring her "No Neon, don't worry, you're not sick. I am here just to prevent you from being sick. I'll take good care of your mental and physical state and keep you amity so you remain as happy and healthy as always! In other words, I'm your private psychotherapist." Following those words of reassurance Neon's face lights up in a smile "YAY, So you're my new companion! Finally, I won't be so bored around here! I'm Neon, but you seem to already know my name. You look strangely young, you know? Plus you have a weird accent when you talk!" Of course, Neon added lacking discretion as always. (Y/n) just tilted their head once more, without changing their friendly air they responded "Of course I have an accent, Neon, all chic and elegant people have one, like David Bowie or Kate Bush. And regarding my age, It's judged preferable to have someone closer to your age to establish a more organic cooperative relationship." -The response to the rude observations of Neon was devoid of any malice, it was rather merry and kind, giving Neon the sensation of friendship and calm -"If you'd prefer to consider me your "companion" is fine. As planned with your father, I will be with you every Tuesday, Thursday from 11:00 am to 8:00 pm and Saturdays from 2:30 pm to 7:30 pm. But today as being our first day, I'll be entire with you!" The grin on Neon's face just became wider "YOU'LL SEE, I AM GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN FROM NOW ON!''-Neon called once more, grabbing (Y/n) from their arm and dragging them somewhere. The (hair colored) didn't protest, just flinched to the sudden touche-"COME TO MY ROOM, WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO!" The stranger's identity and intentions finally became clear for Kurapika, letting him discard (Y/n) as a hazard. We followed them into Neon's room to guard the Nostrade's teenager. Hours passed by. Neon talked about all the nonsense she could think of, as (Y/n) seemed to pay special attention to every word the girl spitted out. Sometimes making some comments and writing down in a little (fav color) notebook with a little cat they took off their said bag. Kurapika was just sitting on one of the couches, some sort of relieved to have someone else to take care of Neon's heavy personality and tantrums. "She even seems calmer today, having some entertainment will be profitable to her. " he thought. Even if Neon was, in fact, calmer that day, you could still hear her from across the room. "Your notebook is really cute, you know? Where did you get it? Cats are SOOOOO cute! I want one like that!" "Thank you Neon! I got it at the novelty store in the Mall that's in the center of the town. I go near there quite often, I can get you one if you'll like. Also, I think I'm going to take my break now if you don't mind. I will go make some tea, would you wish some, Neon?" (Y/n) actively added to the chat, even if it's their first day, they seemed to fuse nicely with Neon, rather odd due to Neon's personality. "Nah, I don't like tea" the teen finally responded, getting a soft nod in agreement as an answer. (Y/n) got up from the chair they were sitting on and headed to the employee's kitchen. Not much time later, they came back with a cup of tea and a bottle full of tea. To Kurapika's surprise, (Y/n) handed him the cup of tea with the soft smile of always. They simply added an "I made you some tea, you appeared a touch worn, I hope it's okay". That was the first of many little acts of kindness (Y/n) had with him. They would make him some tea regularly in the day or ask about his day during the breaks. During the following weeks in which (Y/n) was going to give therapy to Neon, a lot of things could be perceived. The first was the improvement in Neon's attitude. Being gradually more used to friendly human interaction, and having a better understanding of her frustrations. The second was about (Y/n), they were a rather nice person, gaining some sort of (or what was the most resembled) sympathy from Neon, which was a feat considering the lack of empathy of Neon. They were polite to everyone in the Nostrade's mansion, and their job as Neon's special doctor was their 4th job. Melody, during a casual chat, learned that (Y/n) worked Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturday mornings as a Psychoanalyst between a Psychiatric ward and a Private Doctor's Cabinet, and the mornings of the days she came to assist the Nostrade's daughter as an intermediary liaison psychiatrist (basically someone who gives psychiatric supportive treatment in non-specialized unities) in the YorkNew General Hospital Center. This explains largely the eyebags and exhaustion for which (Y/n) has earned comments from Neon such as "You know you have eyebags?". Also, that (Y/n) has 18 years of age (sorry dear readers if it's not your age, but this will be relevant for the plot, so please let me this one pass), remarkably young to be an accredited doctor. And they were "precocious" on their own words- as Melody said- And the third and last thing, noticed essentially by Kurapika was about (Y/n) comportment and personality. Even if (Y/n) was kind and polite to everyone, they were incredibly discreet. They acted with prudence in virtually all aspects, from their appearance to their very presence. Like if (Y/n) was hiding and acting from the shadow (Melody also commented about this borderline anxiety). Additionally, all the movements (Y/n) made were prudent and meticulously planned, which made Kurapika realize the intelligence (Y/n) had. He also could tell English was not (Y/n)'s first language. They had a peculiar pronunciation and spoke with a large and fancy vocabulary. Those things greatly aroused Kurapika's curiosity, but the part of (Y/n) that triggered that curiosity the most was related to (Y/n)'s eyes. They were very careful with the subject. So careful indeed that they were even subtle with the care they treated the subject. Were tiny and nearly unimportant actions from (Y/n) that made Kurapika realize the importance of their eyes. (Y/n) never looked anyone in the eyes. Sometimes, during the break, when feeling exhausted or overwhelmed, (Y/n) would close their eyes and cover them with one hand. The biggest event of all was one time he listened to Neon through the door curiously ask "Hey (Y/n), what happens with your eyes?" and, when he opened the door to see if everything was correct, (Y/n)'s eyes were normal. As if nothing had happened. Kurapika had for sure some inquiries regarding (Y/n). However, all of his suspicions became more prominent with a precise action from (Y/n). One day, Neon decided to show (Y/n) her body part collection. "(Y/n) You're a doctor, I'm sure you're going to love this! You know about these things, You'll be able to appreciate my glorious collection!" Neon was bragging about how happy she was with her various articles. "I have hearts, livers, fetuses, all the parts of the brain, some left and right lungs, and a pancreas. And my favorite of them all! A pair of beautiful scarlet eyes!" Neon made a special address on how rare the scarlet orbs were and how proud she was of them, she even played with them a little. And for the first time, (Y/n) didn't say a thing. Their perpetual smile even faded a little. During the whole episode, Kurapika remained sitting on a chair. Hearing that kind of discourse about his clan's eyes was hurtful and infuriating. How could she talk in such a manner of his fellow Kurtas? With no compassion, like if they were a mear object. It was sickening. A dull and hurt expression plastered on Kurapika's face. He was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice it already was break time. If it wasn't for (Y/n) who came to sit beside him in an attempt to comfort his sorrow. (Y/n) had their gaze lowered and, for the first time, wasn't smiling. It wasn't a gloomy face, more like a flat expression. They didn't say a word and just stayed near him. Similar as if they seemed to comprehend. It wasn't until Kurapika looked at (Y/n) that they gave him a tiny smile. Nevertheless, this smile wasn't like the usual one. It was more caring, full of empathy and kindness, but also pain. None of them said a single word. And even if he never stated a thing about the subject, Kurapika felt a little comforted. At the end of that day, where everyone was heading to their own houses after such a hard working-day, (Y/n) came to Kurapika. He deduced they would just wish him a nice night. Except it wasn't the case. "Kurapika, pardon me, may I speak to you for a bit, pretty please?" (Y/n) mumbled to him, with the identical smile as always. A bit confused by their request, Kurapika responded, "Sure (Y/n), how may I help you?" forthwith to its answer (Y/n) made him follow them to a more private place behind the Nostrade's mansion. (Y/n) looked down as they had their hands in front of their chest, similar to the pose of a meerkat, and was fidgeting with their fingers. "Kurapika"- then they looked up to him-"I know I'm putting my life on the line. Yet, what I'm about to do is an act of desperation wholly motivated by my conclusion. Are you somehow related to the scarlet eyes?"

#kurapika x reader #kurapika hxh #hxh #hunter x hunter #kurapika #hxh x reader #hxh scenarios #hxh drabbles #kurapika kurta #kurapika imagine #kurapika kurta x reader

60 notes · View notes

lady-griffin · 4 years

Text

Manga vs. Anime: My Next Life as a Villainess

I would like to be clear,I have greatly enjoyed the anime so far and find it to be very charming. Also, because we are only three episodes into the anime, I want to hold out on any strong opinions as of now.

That being said, the anime has felt rushed and hurried along in my opinion.

Which has been disappointing – as some of my favorite parts from the Manga didn’t receive as much attention, as I feel like they deserved.

I wouldn’t mind the hurried pace of the anime, if I felt like it lent itself more to the comedic timing. But so far, the Manga’s comedic timing has had more of a punch to it.

Though, to be fair, it’s only been three episodes and it’s very possible they’ve rushed through the childhood bits to focus on the harem’s time at the Magic Academy and when the Otome Game begins.

However, according to Wikipedia there are only 12 episodes.

So, the anime is presumably going to cover 15 Manga Chapters in the next 9 episodes. Which is certainly possible, especially since the first 7 chapters of the manga were depicted in 3 episodes.

Given, how I’ve felt about the first three episodes in comparison to the first 7 chapters, I am slightly concerned for the next 9 episodes.

I just feel like the manga explains the premise of certain scenes better than the anime has so far and adds more context to form a larger picture.

Particularly with Katarina’s rationale.

In the Manga, we get a far more depth look into why Katarina believes simply not bullying the heroine will not be enough.

As Katarina could be accused of being the ringleader of the bullies as she was the ringleader in the game. Or Geordo, who in the game is described as a ‘black-hearted prince’ might falsely accuse her of bullying, so he can be with the heroine.

We also get to see Katarina saying that she actually has difficulty imagining her Geordo exiling or killing her, but she quickly dismisses the reality of her situation; by believing that Geordo falling in love with the heroine will change him and he might soon view his current fiancée (her) as a nuisance to him.

Katarina is dense, don’t get me wrong – but her rationale does give credence to her reasoning and actions – if that makes sense.

So, I am disappointed with that.

Though, maybe, I’m just more than a bit salty that Katarina’s 15th Birthday Party didn’t get the attention I thought it deserved.

I think particularly in the dancing with the guys and even more specifically with Geordo.

Geordo and Katarina’s dance in the anime does make sense, but I think the manga really gave it a bit more depth…context…detail?

But, while I don’t think her birthday party deserves an entire episode by itself, it being squeezed in the last few minutes of the most recent episode, was not ideal.

That best describes it, I think. The anime feels like it’s trying to squeeze a lot in the last minute, so to speak.

However,

The manga is not without its own faults and the anime has added its own elements that have improved the story.

We are introduced to Katarina and get to see her and Geordo interact, before she regains her memories

Keith’s backstory is elaborated on - He ended up hurting his brothers because he wanted to protect a bird and her babies from them.

Seeing Katarina break down Keith’s door from his perspective and seeing the light pouring into the room bit by bit, as the door and his loneliness crumble away, was sheer perfection

Geordo observing (from a distance) Katarina and Alan becoming friends and establishing, what I presume might be more jealousy between Geordo and Alan than the manga presented.

Geordo and Alan setting up their party and Geordo clearly being aware of Alan’s feelings before Alan is.

Geordo also stating that he has no intention of letting Katarina go as his fiancée.

Geordo saying that predicting what Katarina will do next is basically the one thing he’s not good at

Sophia being invited to the party and we get to see her clear concern and fear

Nicol’s route in the game is made a lot clearer than it was in manga

Nicol dealing with people insulting his sister (we do see this later in the manga, with a flashback).

Katarina gets a slight Ojou laugh when she leaves Keith and Mary to go to the bathroom (the manga did have Ho Ho Ho next to her in the very same scene)

The scene where Katarina jumps out of the tree, scaring away Sophia bullies is a lot clearer than it was in the manga

Sophia mentions a romance book between two women she read – that line alone adds more credence to the girls also falling for Katarina and it’s not just being "really good friendships”

Overall, more Alan and Nicol in the story. Or at the very least, more Alan.

The manga also has scenes and details that are not needed for the flow of the story, so those getting cut aren’t a problem.

I would much rather have an extra scene or two of the harem rather than learn Katarina has to take 5 maids with her to school, and so on.

But I also wanted more of Katarina’s Birthday Party Scene as well...so there’s that.

Basically, I just wish some of my favorite scenes in the manga were translated to the anime and given the attention, I feel like they deserved.

But I am curious, if those who have only really seen the anime feel like the pacing is rushed.

Because, honestly the fact that one gets to set their own pace when reading a manga might be the sole cause for my issues with the pacing.

And that’s true of any written work being translated onto screen. What my mind focuses on, might not be the intention of the author or might not be interpreted by others in the same way.

For instance, I’ve personally read the end of chapter 7 with a twinge of sadness to it.

Because, as much as Katarina has been preparing herself for the game’s potential endings, I don’t think she will ever be prepared for the heartbreak she’ll experience, if they were to come true.

Again, that’s just how I read it.

I may have also thought that an animated version of Chapter 7′s ending could’ve been an easy improvement upon what we got from the Manga. Basically, what I just presented to you above (as I omitted several panels from the Manga).

But we’re way off topic now.

Obviously, this isn’t a new problem for manga readers – I just haven’t read all that much Manga in comparison to all the anime I’ve watched. And in some cases of Manga vs Anime, I’ve personally felt the anime improved upon it or they were evenly matched.

So, I guess, since fell in love with manga instantly more so than I did with the first episode, I just want the anime to bring its all to this story.

I also hope the anime can slow down in its pacing, now that we’ve gotten to the main story.

#Katarina Claes #my next life as a villainess #Otome game no hametsu flag #Catarina Claes #Hamefura #Geordo Stuart #Alan Stuart #Keith Claes #Nicol Ascart #Sophia Ascart #Mary Hunt #destruction flag otome

326 notes · View notes

renaxwrites · 5 years

Note

Hiii can I ask for a hc of what it is like to be in a full-blown fight or heated argument with Tsukki, Akaashi, and Hajime? It can be angst or fluff hehe sorry if it’s a bit random hehe Thank u in advance! 💜😁

Fights - (Tsukishima, Akaashi, Iwaizumi)

a/n: my heart is too (soft) for angst I can never handle it lmao

warnings: slight angst, some cussing

tsukishima:

Okay it’s normal to playfully banter and bicker with each other, but when it’s a full-blown argument, it’s a whole other level

It’s clear that he needs his privacy, which includes his personal things

You were doing your normal cleaning routine, and noticed something out of its normal place. His most prized possession: his headphones. So imagine the feeling when you trip over something, sending his headphones flying, and bouncing off a hard surface, breaking them.

Nothing made you feel worse, but you already placed an order online for a newer version of the ones he had. Gosh you had never bought something so fast in your life

But of course the ONE time it happened, it was when he wanted them the most. OFC!!

He had looked in the only two places it could be, and since they weren’t there, he confronted you. So you confessed, cause obviously it would be worse to lie.

You were gonna replace them, but before you got to tell him that…man did he blow UP…he was PISSED to say the least

“The hell did you touch them for? Better yet, why were you in there in the first place? You really don’t know when to mind your own business, do you? It’s like you always do the opposite of what I say!”

You’re trying not to raise your voice either, but of course you needed to get your side of the story in

Was trying his best not to scream at you, but his voice would definitely be raised

However, he would never call you any degrading names. He absolutely drinks his “respecting women juice”. He just didn’t have his coffee before this, however.

Honestly, once he says his piece, he goes to a different room, so he can think and cool off. One thing about Tsukki is that he sometimes needs time alone, which you always respect.

Once you two are ready to talk to each other again, you approach him and explain what happened in a calm manner. You apologize for damaging his headphones. He is more of an actions over words kind of guy. He in turn cups your face in his hands and is sorry for raising his voice instead of hearing you out first

He then wraps his arms around you and puts his face in the crook of your neck.

Before y’all go into cuddle mode, you raise his face and show him the new headphones you ordered for him

Powers all his love into a big ass kiss on your forehead

THEN y’all cuddle

akaashi:

Honestly, Akaashi is a reasonable, respectful king™ that always applies common sense before doing anything irrational, so it would take a lot as his s/o to get him to that level of anger

Like, wayy worse than Bokuto

The only things that could reach him to that level is if someone is harassing or putting down his s/o or anyone he is close to (teammates, family, etc). OR, if you are purposely putting down your self-worth in front of him

Since Akaashi plays, you often would go to his matches to support them, and you would see girl volleyball players for their tournaments as well.

Most of them were tall, lean, and have an overall fit figure from years of hardcore training, and just the sight of them would make you feel insecure about yourself. You wouldn’t tell your bf, so that he wouldn’t be worried

But after seeing the vb girls again, you were then self-motivated to look that way too, but you were going the wrong way about it

At first, Akaashi didn’t notice. But then, he started noticing you eating less and working out more. You even softly refused to go to your favorite fast-food spot for a spontaneous food run. If anything, when he mentioned it, you were suddenly off the couch and ready to work out again

You accidentally left your phone open while you went to change into your workout clothes. He felt guilty for even having to look through it, but he needed to get to the bottom of this. Immediately he saw your search history, full of “how to get thinner”s, “extreme dieting”s, “ideal body shape workout”s.

Alright, he’s had enough

He is ready to burst through your door, but the gentleman he is, knocks first

When you say “come in”…

BOOM

“Why am I seeing all this bullshit on your internet history?”

You don’t see the problem with wanting to get healthier, or thinner in your mind. Like those volleyball girls

“Babe. Don’t you ever. EVER. Compare yourself to anyone else!! Those girls have been training for years. It takes years to get that way. But skipping meals, eating less, and working out more? Constantly measuring and weighing yourself? Dammit, I must be failing as a boyfriend if you’re feeling this way.

“Being skinny is NOT the same thing as being healthy! Babe, you don’t need to be thin to be beautiful. You are perfect the way you are. Now, if you want to follow a healthier lifestyle, I’ll help you. I can show you how to properly do it. Okay? Please, for me?”

He envelops you in his arms and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back as you let a few tears leak out. He picks up your chin and gives you a kiss.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?”

“Yes, please”

Best ice cream you’ve ever had

iwaizumi:

Iwa is a MAN that just honestly wants to provide you the best, what he feels you deserve

Sometimes he feels insecure, feeling at times he could do better, causing an inner frustration with himself, which causes him to unintentionally snap one day

The two of you had your 1 year anniversary in a week, and he had never been so sure of anything than wanting to spend the rest of his days with you

So he wanted to finally tell you ‘I love you’ with a promise ring

Now, rings aren’t the cheapest thing in the world, and definitely not the one he had in mind. But you deserved it.

He had 90 percent of the money for the ring, but where was he going to get the other 10 percent? In a week? And the poor boy didn’t want any help, he wanted to be assured that he could do something for you knowing HE did it. So, naturally, he was getting stressed out.

You noticed how stressed he was getting as the days of your one-year started getting closer. He was intently texting every second of any break he had, and it started to worry you.

3 days left: He says, “I’m fine.” 2 days: “Don’t worry about it, love.”

The night before: when it all caved in.

You decided to confront him about it. “Iwa, what are you so worried about? You’ve been more concerned about your phone then telling me… is something wrong? Did I upset you?”

He is still texting

“IWA.”

He finally looks up at you. “I’m trying to do something, y/n. Can you just LET me?”

You put your hands on your hips.

Oh boy, was he in for it.

“What is so important that you’ve been more interested in your stupid ass messages than you are with me? You’re over me already, aren’t you? And right before our damn anniversary? You could have at least let me know when you first got over me!”

Iwa tries to get his brain cells together, but just goes off.

He gets up. “If you MUST know, I’ve been trying for MONTHS. MONTHS! To save up for this goddamn ring tomorrow that probably isn’t even good enough for you! I’m so pathetic! You deserve someone who can get you anything you wanted right then and there! You deserve someone better than me, who can give you what I can’t! I’m trying my fucking best to be what you deserve, but how? I can’t even buy you a simple, fucking ring so I can finally tell you that I love you!”

You’re both in tears.

“You love me?”

“More than anything else in this world.”

You let out a sob and rush over to him and you embrace one another. You simultaneously look up and brush off the other’s tears.

“Iwa, I don’t need any fancy things to be happy. I just need you, all of you. There is nothing or nobody that can change the way I feel for you. I love you.”

You kiss and continue to embrace, moving it to the couch to wallow in each other’s presence, all through the early morning

Midnight hits.

“Happy anniversary, y/n.” “Happy anniversary, Iwa.”

376 notes · View notes

eclecticanalyst · 4 years

Text

Studying “A Study in Emerald”

At my grandmother’s house, stacked together with other books underneath a side table in her office, was a thick leatherbound volume with golden engraved lettering. SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE, it said, in large letters on the cover. And in smaller print: The Celebrated Cases of Sherlock Holmes.

I was eight or nine years old, and as soon as I opened the volume I was hooked. I brought it along as I rode with my grandmother doing errands. I asked her if I could have the book, and with her permission took it home with me. I hadn’t finished it by the time summer camp rolled around, so I tucked it into a suitcase and read bits of it at the end of activity-filled days before going to bed. I hardly even glanced at any other books until I had turned the last page.

Since I have re-read the stories so many times over the years, the solutions to the mysteries are no longer a surprise to me. I had read them for the mysteries, the first time. But now I read them for other reasons—the relationship between Holmes and Watson, the atmosphere of horror and dread that ACD does so well, the breadcrumbs of character arcs in the main and recurring characters, and the way the characters seem both dated and modern, sometimes in the same sentence.

All that is to say, I love Sherlock Holmes. And several months ago I found that Neil Gaiman had written a Sherlock Holmes story. I’ve read a few Gaiman works and was curious to see how he treated some of my favorite fictional characters, so I downloaded it. And read it. And loved it. And in this analysis, I will convey my enthusiasm by explaining just how amazing this story is.

NOTE: this will be a multi-part analysis, with one post for each part of “A Study in Emerald.” (Parts 2 and 3 will be covered in one post.) There will also be some follow-up posts with additional thoughts at the end.

You should 100% read the story before continuing because A) it’s awesome and B) there is a twist that I will be getting into pretty quickly that is much better if you experience it for yourself first.

Part 1: The New Friend

The beauty of this story is that knowing the Sherlock Holmes canon works both for and against the reader. If you’ve read the canon, you will recognize the references to certain characters or details or plot points—but at the same time, those moments of recognition can lead you to draw conclusions that Gaiman fully expects you to make but are in fact inaccurate.

Right off the bat, the title of “A Study in Emerald” is just one word away from the title of the very first Sherlock Holmes story. This, along with the first page or so of the narrative, primes us to approach the tale as a straightforward Sherlock Holmes pastiche, like the countless others that have been written: “Sherlock Holmes in space!” “Sherlock Holmes as a kid!” “Sherlock Holmes in the far future!”, where everything is basically the same, just with a natural transformation of entities to match the “hook” of the pastiche—so instead of smoking, kid Holmes sucks on lollipops or the like. The “hook” of this particular pastiche first manifests with the narrator’s war wounds being the result, not of bullets and fevers as in the canon, but of underwater creatures that suck the vitality out of one’s limbs.

“Okay,” we as readers familiar with Sherlock Holmes say to ourselves. “So Holmes and Watson, but in a world of the supernatural. Got it. Nice twist, Gaiman. I’m ready to see what you do with this.”

As I said, Gaiman uses your Sherlock Holmes knowledge against you in constructing this tale. The narrator has a shoulder wound as a result of his wartime experiences, just as Watson does in A Study in Scarlet—the circumstances of his injury are changed to be more fantastical, of course, but we accept that because we have acclimated ourselves to what we think is the whole of this seemingly straightforward premise (Sherlock Holmes, but with Lovecraftian elements). After all, we have the two men meeting in the university laboratory, both interested in sharing rooms, and we get the iconic line, “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.” We get the familiar prospective-roommates-share-vices exchange. It’s not the same as the original, but we don’t read Holmes pastiches for the exact same lines we could get by rereading the original stories. Besides, the exchange hits enough check marks for what we already know about Holmes (since we’re familiar with canon) that instead of the change setting off alarm bells, we’re busy patting ourselves on the back for recognizing references and approvingly nodding in response to Gaiman’s demonstrated knowledge of the stories. After all, Holmes did shoot bullets into the wall once. And he is private and easily bored, and selfish as well at times. These are revelations about Holmes’s character that are shared in later stories, after A Study in Scarlet, but they match the whole of his character that we know since we have the entirety of the canon under our belts, so it’s quite clear to us that this man the narrator meets is indeed Sherlock Holmes.

By condensing the characteristics of Holmes that were originally revealed over the course of several publications into one dialogue exchange, the plot is able to move speedily along while reinforcing our initial understanding of this man’s identity. However, presenting these characteristics in this manner also leads to some contradictions with canon, which means that things are just a little bit off. Holmes is established in later stories as having irregular habits, but in A Study in Scarlet, the specific story that this dialogue exchange is echoing, it’s Watson who “get[s] up at all sorts of ungodly hours.” Here the one who admits to “keep[ing] irregular hours” is the non-soldier, when in A Study in Scarlet Holmes is actually quite regular in his schedule (he doesn’t really maintain that behavior beyond that first story, but still). On a more complex level—and I might be reading too much into this particular point but it is striking to me as someone who has spent several years with roommates—there is the detail that the detective in “Emerald” informs the narrator right off the bat that he will need to use the sitting room to see clients. In A Study in Scarlet, Holmes does not inform Watson of this fact in the initial cross-examination. It’s only after they move in together and Watson starts getting (politely) kicked out of the sitting room on a semi-regular basis that Watson even learns Holmes is a person who has a visiting clientele. This is a rather major thing for a prospective roommate to know. Failing to mention this to Watson while still detailing his smoking habits and propensity for chemical experiments is a rather egregious omission on Holmes’s part, as anyone who has had to get used to a new roommate will tell you. So we have two instances where the information about the detective matches our overall conception of Holmes, but it is presented in a way that goes directly in opposition to how it was originally presented in canon—where what we are reading is both right and wrong at the same time.

Let’s continue on in the story. Our “heroes” move into the same old apartment on Baker Street, which further solidifies the straightforward Holmes in a Lovecraftian world explanation we as readers have formulated for the story. We go through the same “narrator wonders what his mysterious roommate does for a living” steps that we remember from A Study in Scarlet, albeit, again, condensed. And the mystery plot begins as the two roommates eat breakfast, just as in that very first story.

Keen readers might take note of the fact that it is Inspector Gregson, not Inspector Lestrade, who brings the mystery in A Study in Scarlet to Holmes’s attention. Considering that Lestrade made more appearances in the canon and became Holmes’s default police contact, Lestrade’s presence here can simply be chalked up to Gaiman paying homage to the whole of the canon, not just the first story. Alternatively, this is yet another instance of things being ever so slightly wrong when compared to the events we are all familiar with.

You’ll notice that, having successfully (because on first read you are likely not reading as critically as I am now with this analysis) lulled us into a false sense of security regarding the premise of this story and the identities of its characters, Gaiman starts to drop more references to other specific stories besides A Study in Scarlet, as well as more direct hints (which require much less complex analyzing than I have done in previous paragraphs) as to who our narrator and his detective friend truly are.

The first* direct hint is so subtle that I don’t think I even picked up on it the first time I read the story. It’s when Lestrade suggests he talk to the detective privately. The content of the exchange is, once again, familiar to a Sherlock Holmes reader—how many times have we seen Holmes assure a client that Watson can be confided in just as well as himself (see: “A Case of Identity”), or refuse to let Watson excuse himself as a case begins to unfold (see: “A Scandal in Bohemia”)? The hint lies in the description of the narrator’s friend when he dismisses Lestrade’s suggestion: “his head moved on his shoulders as it did when he was enjoying a private joke.” Gaiman can’t show his hand too early, so this hint is extremely oblique. The key is the phrasing: “his head moved on his shoulders” is a rather odd and roundabout description, which could much more easily be rendered as “he shook his head” or something to that effect. But in using this wording, Gaiman ever-so-lightly echoes the description of a certain someone a couple pages into “The Final Problem”:

His shoulders are rounded from much study, and his face protrudes forward, and is for ever slowly oscillating from side to side in a curiously reptilian fashion.

We have some more general Easter egg references to the canon—the detective’s slight dissatisfaction when someone (Lestrade in this case) remarks on the simplicity of his reasoning after it is explained, and the Study in Scarlet-specific “only one in the world” consulting detective explanation. And then we have this terrific bit. Our narrator asks the detective if he really wants him to come along. The detective’s response is as follows:

“I have a feeling that we were meant to be together. That we have fought the good fight, side by side, in the past or in the future...from the moment I clapped eyes on you, I knew I trusted you as well as I do myself.”

It’s terrific because it’s a summation of how Holmes and Watson are viewed by their fans. They belong together. Victorian London, World War II, 21st century New York, 22nd century London, as mice, as dogs, we’ve seen them in countless adaptations, and despite the change in locale or era or gender or species or countless other circumstances, they are always inseparable, always a force unto themselves, incomplete without the other. Of course this is Holmes and Watson. How could these words apply to anyone else?

The detective’s speech here appeals to our Holmes devotee sensibilities much more than canon Holmes’s response to Watson asking much the same question in A Study in Scarlet:

“You wish me to come?”

“Yes, if you have nothing better to do.”

Which is a rather unexceptional start to a partnership for the ages. The way “Emerald” tugs at the heartstrings, however, is dangerous—it pulls us further down into acceptance of the twisted world and characters that surround us.

*I will come back to this in a later post!

#sherlock holmes #a study in emerald #a study in scarlet #neil gaiman #analysis #in depth

20 notes · View notes

dojae-huh · 3 years

Note

As a person who biases Jungwoo, I read the recent posts about him as an individual and just want to say some of my opinions. I got into NCT in 2018 and my first song was BOSS. I didn’t know many members as I was just getting into Kpop then so I only knew Mark and Taeyong like most new stans. I had no idea Jungwoo was new until a month in, but I had already made him my bias since I liked him from BOSS. Fresh newly debuted Jungwoo was very cute, unique and was a little quirky and I enjoyed that. My ult bias at the time was W1’s Park Jihoon and I have a slight bias towards people I find cute. I think over time in NCT he has changed a bit, he still has that quirkiness from him debut, but he is more resilient and outgoing (he cried for the first time in his debut stage). His confidence boosted and so people might find him overbearing at times, I can understand. The Dowoo comment you made I agree, maybe because in my heart I already ship Jaedo (why else would I be on a Jaedo ship tumblr blog), but their interactions aren’t as genuine and seamless and so it feels forced, especially Doyoung who tries really hard, his efforts are evident. Since I got into NCT Boss era, Jungwoo was shipping himself around with everyone and Luwoo was the most popular so I enjoyed them together, they seemed like a good match back then and I am still not opposed to them as a pair now but with the uncertainty of Lucas, I am still not sure. In 127 I enjoy his interactions with Haechan, Taeil and Yuta, sometimes he does feel like a replacement for Winwin in terms of Yuta, but he is his own person trying to form bonds, and there will obviously be similarities in past relationships. Taeil is easygoing so he pairs well with most people, Haechan and Jungwoo work well(in MMTG, its mentioned that Haechan and JaeJae have the same MBTI, ENFP, which supposedly goes well with Jungwoo’s MBTI). Overall, Jungwoo may not be for everyone but thats the leisure in having so many members, if you don’t like one specific person, there are others to fill in the gaps.

It's not the confidence, it's trying too hard to be funny and inserting jokes disrupting others' flow or not joining a rapport smoothly.

I've remembered, Shotaro. With Shota Woo had a nice video. Shota buffered Woo's outbursts, receiving jokes well, but at the same time he wasn't shy and was dominant as well, helping in moving the convo ahead. For a good onscreen chemistry two people need to play off each other, respond to the jokes, be in the same mood and pace.

2 notes · View notes

hummingluke · 4 years

Text

among us

pairing: luke/ashton content warnings: major character death, blood, swearing word count: 2.9k

a/n: i finally wrote a thing! the among us au that absolutely no one asked for. it’s pretty dark and def not for everyone so no pressure to read at all, but if you do please please let me know what you think!

ao3 link

They’ve only been on Polus for two weeks. Two weeks, and already their crew of ten has dwindled down to four. When they’d first landed, and stepped off the dropship into the icy, biting air of the barely-habitable planet, the energy among the crew had been wary but overall positive. It’s no secret that Polus is the most dangerous base - a favourite haunt for impostors given its distance from other MIRA colonies and its general dark and dreary environment - but many of the crew were new recruits, excited to be visiting their first faraway planet and eager to conduct their research. The fact that an incident hasn’t occurred on Polus in a few months is a good sign, to them: a sign that maybe things are taking a turn for the better. They should have known it was only a matter of time.

The most recent death had been two days ago, and tensions had been thick among the remaining crew since. The meeting following the discovery of the body had been hours long as the last four argued over who could be an impostor. Luke had spent most of the meeting slumped in his chair, dread clutching at his heart as the very real possibility that none of them would ever make it off this damned planet began to sink in. Michael and Ashton’s voices had been hoarse from all the yelling by the end of it, and Calum seemed to be the only one satisfied with the final decision that no one would get thrown into the lava pit. It had only made Michael more suspicious of him, but Luke knows better. He’d seen the pain on Calum’s face when, a week ago, they’d thrown one of their own crewmates into the pit - a crewmate who’d turned out to be innocent, after all. Calum might seem stoic, but Luke can tell he has a gentle soul.

None of them had known each other before being sent on this mission, but spending two weeks trapped on a frozen planet with less than a dozen colleagues and a killer on the loose tended to provide for some rapid and intense bonding. Up until the most recent death, Calum and Michael had been two peas in a pod, often partnering up to complete their daily tasks and spending all of their free time together. Now that potential suspects are narrowing down, and with Calum’s general habit of not speaking unless spoken to, Michael has completely detached himself from his former friend. It makes Luke sad to see what seemed like such a strong bond break so quickly, but he doesn’t think it actually has anything to do with Calum himself. Michael’s paranoid of everyone, now, as evidenced by the way he’s watching Luke from the office doorway as Luke pours two mugs of stale coffee.

“Do you want me to pour you one?” Luke asks, attempting to ignore the scowl on Michael’s face. Michael doesn’t reply, instead giving Luke a once-over before walking away with a huff.

Luke clenches his jaw as he looks back down at the cups of swirling black sludge. He hates this. They’re scheduled to be on Polus for another month and a half, but more and more he finds himself hoping it’s over sooner than that, because he can’t stand the fear and distrust permeating every space on the base. He just wants to leave this hell, and he’s starting to care less and less whether that happens via the dropship, or a quick fall into the lava pit.

Luke dumps cream and sugar into one of the mugs until the coffee is almost as pale as him, and emitting a sickly sweet aroma, then he puts on his helmet and heads outside to the O2 building.

As Calum and Michael’s friendship developed (and then shattered) Luke himself had grown close with Ashton, the most experienced member of their crew and one impostor-survival story away from becoming somewhat of a legend at MIRA. None of them knew each other before, but everyone knows of Ashton. Luke’s known from the beginning that if he was going to survive this mission, Ashton would be the one to befriend. He was strong, and intelligent, and had a disarming stare that made other crewmates swear that he could tell whether someone was an impostor just by looking at them. Luke knows that isn’t possible, but the man certainly does seem to be a good judge of character. Well, fairly good.

Ashton’s working in O2 all day today. There had been some odd anomalies with the tree last night, and he’s spent most of the morning sitting at its roots, hunched over his tablet as he examines the data. It was how Luke had left him an hour ago when he popped in to change the oxygen canisters, and it’s how he found him now, tiny crease in his brow, though he looks more focused than confused.

“I brought you some coffee,” Luke speaks up softly from the doorway, not wanting to startle Ashton. “Thought you could use a break.”

Ashton’s small frown dissolves into a warm smile as he looks up at Luke. He sets his tablet aside with a sigh and holds his hand out, but when Luke hands him the mug, still steaming despite the trip outside in below-freezing temperatures, he sets that down as well and extends his hand once more.

“Sit with me?” he asks, and Luke blushes ever so slightly as he takes Ashton’s hand and allows himself to be guided to a spot on the floor clear of roots and wires.

“How’s it going?” he asks as Ashton takes a sip and hums in satisfaction. Ashton’s the only person on the crew who actually likes the coffee here, and for the first few days Michael had liked to joke about how that must mean he’s an impostor.

“Well, I’ve ruled out sabotage,” Ashton replies, looking over at the tree as if it might suddenly decide to reveal its secrets. As senior researcher, Ashton is solely in charge of monitoring the tree, and Luke admires how much he takes his duties to heart. Everyone understands the work MIRA is doing is important, but Luke has never met someone as passionate about it as Ashton. “My best guess is that something flew by that upset the energy field. Probably an asteroid. With only four people, it’s getting harder to keep them away.”

It sounds to Luke like this is something to be concerned about, but Ashton seems unfazed as he takes another sip of his coffee, his thumb tracing the back of Luke’s hand where it rests on his knee, their fingers still intertwined. Ashton always appears unfazed, though. Apart from his screaming match with Michael the other day, he’s well-composed, carefully observant, and the voice of reason. Luke supposes that’s just what happens when you survive a dozen impostor attacks - if they don’t drive you insane, that is.

“Should we be worried?”

“The tree will be fine,” Ashton turns to Luke with that same smile that seems to be reserved just for him, and Luke’s stomach flutters, though he’s not sure if it’s from Ashton’s gaze, or his carefully-chosen words. He looks down at their hands, and when he gives Ashton’s a slight squeeze, Ashton squeezes back. “Hey, you’re safe with me, Lu. You know that, right?”

Luke nods. He wishes that Ashton would say more, would promise him that they’ll make it off this stupid base alive, but he knows better. Ashton doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t make promises he can’t keep.

“Michael won’t stop glaring at me,” he mumbles, toying with the strap of his helmet with his free hand. “He’s making me nervous.”

“Michael’s fine. He’s just nervous, himself. We all are.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m always nervous.”

“You don’t seem nervous.”

“It’s not so bad when I’m around you.”

“Oh.”

It’s the closest either of them has come to actually acknowledging the feelings they’ve been dancing around for the past two weeks. What had started as soft smiles and fond glances, a brush of a hip here or there, has slowly graduated to hand-holding in their moments alone. Relationships are almost impossible in this line of work, and Luke has never been in one himself, so it’s all kind of a big deal to him, and he’s grateful that Ashton seems perfectly content to let him set the pace for whatever this is between them. Luke doesn’t really plan on letting it go much further, though. When this mission is over, they’ll leave this little bubble they’ve pulled over themselves, and go their separate ways, on to another mission, on another planet. They might not even cross paths ever again. MIRA is a big company, and the galaxy they operate in is even bigger.

Never really one for words, Luke’s not sure how else to respond to Ashton’s confession. He takes Ashton’s hand in both of his, plays with his fingers, and hopes Ashton understands it as the reciprocation it is.

They find Michael’s body the next morning. It’s a sloppy job, his throat slit right outside the sleep quarters, in full view of the security cameras. Luke almost throws up in his helmet as Calum, face devoid of any emotion, gently picks up the corpse, and Michael’s head rolls, a bit of blood trickling out from the gash in his neck.

“He’s still warm,” is all Calum says, before standing up and making his way towards the lava pit.

Luke shares a look with Ashton, then the other man bends down to pick up Michael’s discarded helmet. The collar is ripped and soaked in blood, the visor cracked. Ashton stares at it for a moment, expression unreadable, before following Calum to the pit. Watching them dump the body is the last thing Luke wants to do, but his feet pull him forward without a second thought, following after Ashton like a lost puppy.

It’s as unceremonious as the other five times they’ve had to do this. Calum hesitates for longer this time, kneeling at the edge of the pit, clutching Michael’s body, and for a moment Luke thinks he might just launch the both of them over the edge. When Ashton approaches him and rests a hand on his shoulder, Calum seems to be pulled from a daze. He rests his forehead against Michael’s for a moment, then slowly lets go. Michael’s body rolls out of his grip and over the cliff’s edge. Luke flinches at the dull thud and subsequent roar as flames immediately consume the corpse. Ashton adds Michael’s helmet to the row next to the pit, a tribute to their fallen crewmates. For most, it’s the only thing left of them at all, the only way they’ll ever be remembered.

It’s mandatory procedure to hold a meeting after a body is discovered. Luke’s as sullen as he was during the last meeting, but this time Calum and Ashton are the same. Nobody speaks for a good ten minutes. They all just stare at the table, undoubtedly thinking the exact same thing: there’s only three of them left, and someone at this table killed a person less than an hour ago.

Calum’s the first to move.

“I can’t fucking do this again,” he grunts, standing up from the table so quickly that his chair falls back. “I can’t- I’m going to check on my samples. I can’t do this right now.”

Ashton looks just as surprised as Luke feels as Calum walks out of the office. They turn to each other, an entire conversation taking place between them without either saying a word, until Luke shakes his head in denial.

“No, he wouldn’t.” He wishes he sounded more convinced. “He couldn’t. Not Michael.”

Calum wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, he did one time, accidentally; he stepped on a bug in the lab with his massive boots and then stressed about it for days afterwards. He could never do it intentionally, though, right? He was quiet, but he was a good colleague. A good person. Not a killer. At the very least, he could never do... that, to Michael.

“I can’t believe it either, Lu, but who else could it be? Me?”

“No.” Luke has never been more certain of anything in his life.

“You?” Ashton asks, inevitably. Luke doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before Ashton answers for him. “No. So who’s left?”

Luke can’t accept that, yet, and so he racks his brain for a different answer. His eyes fill with tears of frustration and resignation.

“Well, what do we do now?” he finally asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“We keep doing what we always do,” Ashton replies, voice steady and sure. “We do our job. We stay together. We watch each other’s backs and we fucking make it to the end of the two months. We survive. And if we get the chance, we…”

Luke’s grateful that Ashton doesn’t finish the thought. Calum’s words from the meeting three days ago ring through his head, accompanied by a nagging feeling of guilt and shame.

“If we kill them, even to avenge, we’re no better than they are.”

“I don’t want to,” Luke murmurs. “I’m so tired of it, Ash. I can’t do it anymore.”

His vision is so blurry, he doesn’t realize Ashton’s reached out until his thumb runs along his cheekbone, collecting the tears under his eye before they can fall to the floor. He moves to grasp Luke’s chin, turning his head until Luke’s forced to look at Ashton, hazel eyes piercing his soul.

“You don’t have to, Lu.”

It’s so heavy, so final, that Luke wonders whether Ashton knows more than he’s letting on.

That evening, Luke slumps against the bathroom wall, watching Ashton get ready for bed. As the other man bends over the sink to rinse his face, Luke toys with the knife in the pocket of his jumpsuit, trying to work up the nerve to do what he has to do.

He’s known all along that it was only a matter of time before it came to this, but he’d hoped, he’d wished, foolishly, that he’d have more time. More time to think of a way out of this, for himself and for Ashton, maybe for the other crewmates. If not that, then at least more time to just feel. Years of working for - no, of being a slave to - the fringe group trying to take down MIRA meant years of wasted moments, of aborted feelings and almost-friendships, years of having the rug pulled out from under his feet every time he felt he was finally planted on solid ground. Luke hasn’t met someone like Ashton in so long, someone who makes him feel like he can finally breathe, who gives him hope for something more, and he just wants some fucking time. But, since when has he ever gotten what he wants?

He meets Ashton’s gaze through the polished metal sheet that acts as a mirror. The scratches and rust spots somewhat distort their faces from this distance, and make them both look much older than they are, though that could have more to do with the years of endless work and trauma they’ve both been through.

Ashton smiles, and while it does reach his eyes, it’s a tired one. Luke swallows hard. Ashton turns off the tap, picks up his toiletry kit, and heads out of the bathroom, pausing with his hand hovered over the light switch.

“You done in here?” he asks, and Luke hums.

“Was waiting for you.”

Ashton huffs an almost-laugh and shakes his head as he flicks off the light.

“You’re a sweetheart.”

The compliment makes Luke’s stomach drop as he follows Ashton down the hall to his private quarters.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he asks warily. “I’m scared of…y’know.”

“Of course you can.”

Luke sways in the doorway as Ashton turns his back to him once more, crouching down to open the small locker next to his bed. Luke grips the knife in his pocket, takes a deep breath, and counts to three. Killing has never come easy to him, but this is, by far, the hardest one yet.

Ashton shuts his locker and stands up, and when he turns back around, Luke has the knife pointing at his throat. One swipe, and Ashton will crumble to the floor, and then Luke can go kill Calum while he sleeps, and then he can leave this fucking planet and try and forget about the horrible, horrible things he’s done here, and go and do more horrible things somewhere else, because it never fucking ends, does it?

“Lu,” Ashton breathes, composed as ever. He’s not pleading, like the others did if Luke was slow enough to give them a chance to do so, and he doesn’t sound particularly surprised, either. He sounds...sad. Disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” Luke tastes hot, salty tears on his chapped lips. “I- I have to. They’ll kill me if I don’t, or worse.”

Ashton’s gaze flickers between Luke’s face and the knife, glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights as Luke’s hand shakes.

“You don’t have to, Luke,” Ashton repeats his words from earlier, confirming Luke’s suspicion that he already knew Luke was the impostor, perhaps all along.

Luke shakes his head roughly.

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccups. “I have orders.”

Ashton’s own eyes are hazy, and Luke knows it’s now or never, but he can’t bring himself to move, to take one more step forward and swipe the blade. He watches, frozen, as Ashton slowly closes one hand around his extended wrist, pushing down so the knife is no longer level with his throat. Ashton’s other hand comes up, and Luke hears the soft click before he actually sees the gun, pointed straight at his head.

“So do I.”

#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #my writing #luca posts stuff

20 notes · View notes

biaswreckermagnet · 4 years

Text

Fate: The Winx Saga - My Thoughts and Critique - Part 1: Characters

Be warned: The following post will be quite long as I have a lot to say. Please note that this is all my personal opinion and this is just the thoughts and critique of someone that has watched the original Winx Club several time and I have watched the new Winx Saga, and this is in no way a blind hatred based on only word of mouth and seeing half a trailer. Enjoy

I will be comparing this new series to the original 4Kids version, as this is the version I hold close to my heart and grew up watching. So if there are any plot differences I describe from the animation, it is probably due to the slight changes made in the Nick Dub, which some people will know best (example, in 4Kids dub, Aisha’s name is Layla, and Sparks is known as Domino in the Nick dub)

CHARACTERS

Well, I have a lot to say about the characters, just like anyone else. I’ll break down, the casting, compare the character to the animation, and their personality in the Netflix series.

Bloom

The actress chosen in my opinion was a good choice. The problem I have, is her personality. They got the determination and hot-head traits right, of course. But in the animation, Bloom is warm, friendly and bubbly. Easy-going and popular among her peers. I don’t know if they were trying to appeal to the oh-so-angsty teenagers that don’t want to go outside and have few friends. The typical “I’m not like other girls” trope. Tropes are popular, and as someone who has written stories in the past, I have used that trope once, but usually it’s a trope I like when it’s to show the character’s beauty compared to others who may be catty and selfish; not so beautiful on the inside. Here, to me, Bloom is just unlikable. She may be angsty and a rebellious teen, blah blah blah, but she was so rude to people like her Earth mother, and inconsiderate of her own actions and how it could affect those around her. Even if Aisha told her “That is a bad idea, you’re going to regret it” she runs along and does it anyway, and then she gets into a bad situation which also affects everyone, Even if she helps clean up the mess, damage is still done.

In Fate, Bloom’s relationship with her parents is not amazing. Yes, she’s an angsty, rebellious teen who almost kills them because she lost control of her power, but I found this cold, rude relationship so unnecessary. As a teen, sometimes it may seem like no one is listening nor can understand, parents just seem nosy and overbearing, but communication is key. That’s what I find so many shows are missing now: communication.

Looking at Bloom’s relationship with her parents in the animation, it’s not only simpler for them to know from the start that she has powers, but it makes the communication between both parties better. This strong relationship Bloom and her parents have is always present, but we see the beauty of it in Season 1, episode 13, “Meant to Be” when Mike and Vanessa sit her down and talk to her about how they realised she had magic before that fateful meeting with Stella.

There is none of that warmth and love now. Bloom curses at her mother, gives her attitude and is overall just a brat. Bloom may feel remorse towards herself for burning her mother, but then, why is the attitude towards her so ugly? I really don’t like it.

Aisha/Layla

Next is Aisha, who is the only character that was not whitewashed from the original. The only reason I think she wasn’t is because the creators of Winx Saga knew there would be a true uproar if they dared to replace her with someone non-black.

She is the general voice of reason in the group, and the babysitter of Bloom and company. She will support and be the shoulder for Bloom to lean on in a few cases, but generally she’s the only one calling Bloom out for being rash and insensible, but then she gets ignored or sneered at for it, despite rbeing the only one with awareness for consequences.

There isn’t much to compare to with her animated version except for her being athletic; made very obvious in episode one where she says “I swim twice a day, every day”. (Even though that is the only episode we see her following said routine.) Other than that, her backstory is not expanded upon like the animation, obviously due to the lack of screen time and actual length of the Netflix series, therefore for me, I didn’t really bond with her character like in the original.

Stella

The actress is pretty. Not too hard to cast a pretty blonde in a series. Moving on.

In the original Winx, I adore Stella. She’s bubbly, she’s fun, she’s bright. Literally the sunshine of the group. Yes, she has her snooty privileged princess moments, but she is a likable snooty, privileged princess. Why? She showed that she really does care for her friends. Stella can be self-centered and insecure, but she’s never afraid to say that she’s wrong when she realises her mistakes. This is shown several times, but right now I can speak of two instances: Season 1, Episode 8 “Spelled”. Technically, she was under a spell that made her moody and rude, but she still knew she had to set things right after upsetting Musa. Another memorable moment for me when she showed her caring side was during the girls’ stay at the no-magic resort in Season 2, episode 21 ““Trouble in Paradise”. She went after Aisha/ Layla to check if she was all right, they connected and Stella earned her Charmix. Overall, Stella in the animation has her flaws, but she is loved by all and she herself loves the people she’s close to.

However, Stella in Winx Saga, I detest. I was really disappointed with what they did to her character. Honestly, it would have made more sense if she was Diaspro (Sky’s ex-fiance from season 1 and 3) and not Stella. She’s a snob, rude and dismissive of others’ feelings. They did try to toss a sympathy card at our faces later when they eplained the reason why Winx Saga Stella is so - her toxic, overbearing and abusive mother - but honestly, maybe it was because it happened so fast because of the limited time, butI was not feeling any sympathy towards her. I felt like I should have, but I couldn’t. I hope her character changes in Season 2, if I even bother watching it, because I was enormously disappointed with Stella’s new persona for this first season. The Solaria ring was nice enough though.

Musa

Well, here we go. One of the infamous whitewashing cases. To tell the truth, I'm not surprised but disappointed that it acueallyhappened. You mean to tell me they couldn't find any capable Asian actresses for Musa? Yes, small production and low budget, but still. If you are going to make a live action for a cast that is well loved, respected and recognised for the diversity, you should keep it. It just feels like they do it on purpose at this point.

Winx Club Musa I like a lot. I love all the girls, but she's just so laid-back and cool, but she's not afraid to call someone out for being unfair or on their attitude (namely Stella most times). She cares for her friends and she cares for Riven. She's family oriented and she's so passionate about music.

In Winx Saga, she's a mind fairy who used to be a dancer and listens to music with headphones to block out the emotions of people around her when she gets overwhelmed. Interesting new concept and it comes in handy for the new show material. I wouldn't say she was completely unlikable in the WS series but there wasn't anything much besides her ability and that she and Sam (Terra's brother) had somehting more than a fling going on. They were a nice couple. Good chemistry in kisses. I don't know why they decided to not make Riven her man - who knows what the plan is. Riven was not hers in the beginning of the animation either, but we saw a great bond form later on. Their relationship had problems unlike the other Winx couples, but they still are a fan favourite. Let's see how this new match goes I guess?

Flora/Terra

Terra We all know she's supposed to be Flora, no matter how they try to spin it. Before anyone says she's a different character so it's not whitewashing, I have seen a video on Youtube where a girl explains that in actuality, it was supposed to be Flora because there are (now deleted) clips of characters talking to Flora, not Terra. And the adresses portfolio said she was to play Flora. They seemed to change it to avoid heating up the hot water they had already landed themselves into.

Therefore, I will be comparing Terra and Flora. I was extremely disappointed when I saw the trailer and realised Flora was clearly not there. I am not usually one to care whether or not someone looks like me in a show, but I do relate to Flora. I may not always be one that likes to get close to nature honestly, but everything else about her I relate to. I love pink a lot, I am a mixed race person so her looks are what I identify with the most, and our personalities are quite similar.

Terra, on the other hand, is obviously white. The love of plants is there and her sweet and gentle personality is there. Though, it doesn’t get much time to shine because whenever she speaks, she’s either cut off or ignored, unless she’s spouting information the others want to hear at the moment. They did make her quite chatty, and at times even I was a bit annoyed, not because she was chatty, but because that trait just seemed to be a gateway for the scriptwriters to hit you with details about Alfea and its history, and information about fairies without making much effort. Terra didn’t have much screen time, but whenever she was on screen, she was always the butt of a joke and treated poorly. When the situation became dire, she did have some moments of strength, but then the other characters still treated her the same so it seems meaningless.

One main reason Terra stands out to the audience is the fact that she’s the only plus-sized character. I’m all for representation, but I don’t like where they went with Terra. She’s shown to be insecure about her body (shown when she avoids her roommates to change alone). Yes, she’s supposed to be a teen who has heard non-directed comments about weight by other characters, but why couldn’t they make her a confident plus-sized girl? I have plenty of friends that are plus-sized and confident about themselves, older or younger. In media, it’s rare enough to see a plus-sized person, but also one that has confidence. This show is directed to teens, and those who may look and feel the same as Terra won’t have a good example set for themselves to be more confident. If you’re going to include a certain figure in your story, yes, everyone has insecurities and all, but if you have the power to shine light and empower, do it right!

Sky

One reason why I bothered watching the show. Danny Griffin. The man playing Sky. Iin the original Winx, I did not really care for Sky as I’m not really into the long blonde hair, I prefer shorter hair. So I was quite pleased to see this casting as it fits more into my personal type.

Anyways, let’s continue.

I found that the casting was done well for Sky. A hot blonde warrior that can wield weapons well? They nailed it. However, that’s kind of where it ended for me. Due to the plot, his character was pretty much ruined for me. Winx Saga Sky was sadly unremarkable personality-wise. The story didn’t allow for much expansion for him besides having the hots for Bloom and the whole boo-hoo story about his father. There was something of a nice relationship with his mentor, but I’ll get to that later.

Danny Griffin’s performance was quite good. My only issue was one part of his first appearance where his first few lines. . .sounded like lines. Not so much the result of bad acting, but it just was another case of sounding like lines written for a script than natural conversation. But I only really saw that in the first episode, and since everyone would have been getting into character at that time I can let it pass. Otherwise, he performed well as an actor.

Riven

Winx Club Riven does not have the best first impression. According to Musa, he’s “a little rough around the edges, but that’s kind of his charm”. He’s a troubled, moody guy who falls for the wrong girl. He has a very competitive side, especially with Sky, who always manages to beat him in combat. He is indeed often arrogant of his abilities, but he proved himself to not be just all talk during his escape from imprisonment in Cloud Tower during Season 1, and even Sky admitted to being impressed with his knowledge of survival and strategies, even going so far as to say he always thought Riven was the “Red Fountain Slacker”. Animated Riven also has a sweet side that was displayed in season 2 when he comforted Musa during the girls’ first mission to Shadowhaunt, and much more so after they started dating. He expressed how much he cared for Musa in shy but blunt ways. Flawed, but a character that developed throughout the series.

Winx Saga completely threw that out of the window. Riven is now just a clown that does bad boy things. He’s clearly still being portrayed as the “edgy” character with troubles and insecurities, but the rest of the show is so aggressively dark and edgy that he really has no way to stand out anymore. I don’t know what they’re planning to do with his characterr later on, but I really dislike what they did to him. The only thing done right is his competitive nature towards Sky. Side note, this is also my personal preference, but I must add that I am not feeling the minimal facial hair. I’d prefer a clean shaven face. The little spikes just looks messy. But then, facial hair always looks messy to me.

Faragonda

Faragonda. Or as she is known now, Farah Dowling. I’m not sure what to say for her. The actress did well, I can say that. The problem always lies with the characters themselves.

Faragonda is a beloved headmistress that always has an eye out for her students, whether she watches them through her magic mirror in her office or just personally. She gives them enough guidance so they can grow on their own and helps them when she sees the need to. However, she is also strict when needed and will not condone disobedience; this was seen in season 1 when the Winx were punished for breaking into Cloud Tower to get Stella’s ring from the Trix. She is a brave, just and kind woman, well suited for a principal position.

Farah Dowling does not have much besides her position. She’s very secretive and those secrets seem to be there to cause drama when it could have ben avoided. It could be an irrational thought process that humans have, but I’d expect that from someone who hasn’t experienced much in life. The type of past Farah has, she should know better than to keep secrets if she knows it can put the whole school in danger. Her lack of disciplinary action was evident, whether it was the scene of a villain making their move or Bloom blatantly disobeying orders and making choices that moved the plot forward a bit. It was odd to see that even if she knew this person went dilly-dallying in her office or broke a rule, ut wasn’t met with discipline unless something really bad happened. Whereas, we all know that in a school setting, small rule breaking is also punished. I did like the part in the last episode when she and Bloom finally had a warm interaction, I found it very sweet and it was nice to finally have her interact with Bloom without having to expect some impending doom to arise in the next scene.

Beatrix

We did not get the stylish trio we know and love for Winx Saga, but I must say, I was not disappointed by Sadie Soverall. She portrayed the character really well.

She’s a blending of the famous Trix. She’s cunning and does not let anyone get in her way, much like Icy. Seductive like Darcy and I’d say she has Stormy’s malicious nature. (I mean the Trix are all malicious but Stormy generally could let her viciousness rule her judgement). As well as the fact that her power kind of looks like electric bolts, like Stormy’s.

A manipulator that was being manipulated. She’s icy cold, cunning and she knows who she should attach herself to in order to reach her goals. Just a sub-villain I say, but I enjoyed the character. Minus the odd little plots her character was mixed into, which I will discuss later.

Rosalind

A new character who so far seems like the puppet master of all the characters - both good and evil sides. A master manipulator and charismatic. Very enjoyable to watch despite her short screen time. She was the one person that actually had me excited to know what was going to happen next. Very well performed in my opinion.

Mike

The only time I saw this actor truly in character was in the last episode when he was wearing this blue shirt. He really looked like Mike. It may always be necessary to dress a character exactly like the original, but some things are just subtle and yet iconic. Imagine Shaggy from Scooby-Doo without his green shirt and brown pants combo. It wouldn’t feel like him. Otherwise he’s quite a basic looking man so not too hard to cast. I do think this actor really matched Mike though - looks wise, at least.

With Mike, there are less interactions with Bloom besides having very basic “How are you doing?”conversations. There’s a lame joke here and there but nothing really worth commenting over.here now The focus when it came to mentioning the parents in Winx Saga was mostly to Vanessa.

Vanessa

Vanessa in the original series is warm, loving and a good mother. She and Bloom have a strong relationship and have great communication between them, and Bloom not only respects her but also goes to Vanessa when she needs advice and support. The ideal mother-daughter bond.

Date’s Vanessa is more. . .trying to be a good mother but not quite nailing it. As I mentioned during Bloom’s analysis, she’s met with hostility or downright rudeness if she even mentions going out and making friends to her daughter. There were a few moments when it could have been touching to see thieir interactions, but apart from the scene when Bloom was feeling homesick, it felt a bit rushed. Perhaps it was the acting, perhaps it was that the awkward interactions overruled the positive ones, but the Winx Saga relationship between Bloom and Vanessa didn’t feel as connected.

In conclusion, mot of the acting was well done. The issues I have were mostly due to the writing of the characters, not the ability of the actors.

Other minor characters will be analysed during the plot discussion.

#winx club #winx saga #fate winx club #bloom #sky #musa #flora #terra #aisha #layla #riven #4kids dub #netflix #2021 #winx alfea

9 notes · View notes

zirkkun · 4 years

Text

The Butterfly Effect (Part 3)

<< prev || next >>

The Butterfly Effect (Undertale Fanfic - overall given a AO3 M rating) Love Like You

+ underfell!sans x gender neutral reader (first person POV from reader)

+ 5140 words, english

+ this place is a lot different from the underground you’re used to... even the people act far differently than you’re used to.

+ TW: mild body horror, violence (no blood), mild verbal abuse //

+ takes place in the Underfell Underground; barrier is not broken

+ song theme for the chapter: love like you cover by ashe

+ AO3 link

My hand was cold once I woke up. I gripped at the air, feeling nothing around me. Desperately, I tried to lazily reach my arm out, hoping I'd find Sans somewhere next to me. Nothing. Giving in, I cracked my eyes open.

I wasn't even in Sans's house anymore.

I shot up from the bed I was in. I'd woken up in the same house as yesterday, but the sheets on this bed were far more tattered. Some of the paint was chipping off of the red bedroom walls. I took a step down off of the mattress, my feet touching the cold, wooden floor. I could have sworn it was carpeted. Wait, that aside, I could have sworn I had shoes. But, searching every corner of the room, I found not even a sock. There was nothing in here aside from empty dressers and dirt.

I pulled open the wooden closet's door; it creaked loudly as I did, as if it hadn't been used in years. As I assumed, there still wasn't anything inside, but what I did find was a mirror on the inside of the door, cracked and falling apart onto the floor, but the majority of it was still in tact. Though, the condition of the mirror was nothing compared to the condition of my own body. My hair was a mess, strands going every which way, and when I went to adjust it, it was so thick with grease that I nearly thought it was wet. Disgusted, I stopped touching it, but that wasn't even the half of what changed. My skintone and eye color were the same, but my outfit was entirely different, not to mention torn. Every edge of the fabric was frayed, as if I'd grabbed rags off of the street. What the hell happened last night? How did I even end up here? And why did this room get so trashed if I was the only one here between yesterday and now? Well, I guess I can't know that I was the only one here... I did get back somehow, after all.

As I went to close the door back up, I noticed something protruding from the base of my neck. It was small and azure, like a little sphere of some kind. I rubbed my thumb against it: it hurt to touch, but it was most certainly growing out of my neck, through my skin. I didn't know what to do with it. I tried to pull it out, but doing so somehow caused me to nearly choke, as if there was something attached to the little ball that was roped around my esophagus. I coughed and hacked, gripping my throat as I collapsed to the ground in pain. Even worse is that, after my panicked coughs of pain, is that I could feel the little blue ball wriggling and moving as I began to recover. Instinctively, I clawed my neck, only causing my pain to flare up once again as I shrieked. Horrifically, I pushed myself up from the floor, trying to inspect what was previously a blue lump on my neck.

The lump had unfolded. From it sprouted a very small azure forget-me-not, its petals moist like a real, growing flower. I brushed its surface, feeling the touch as if it was part of my skin. It sent a shiver down my spine: this isn't supposed to happen. Why is there a flower growing out of my neck?

Everything today was driving me crazy. The past two days? Whatever.

I forced myself to walk outside of the room, shaking with aftershock from the pain in my throat. The hallway from the house I recognized was completely different -- everything was trashed, even worse than the room I had been in. Flower pots that were once on tables were shattered and scattered across the floor. The lights were dim, broken, and flickering. But, the same as yesterday morning, the home was empty without a trace of life or dust. Even as I found myself crawling through the basement again, I couldn't find anything other than the ice cold floor under my feet -- which grew colder with each step I took towards the exit.

A gush of freezing cold wind hit my face as the Ruins door creaked from my touch. I shivered instantaneously, only feeling the cold worse and worse. Carefully, and fearfully, I took a step with my bare feet into the icy snow, recoiling almost immediately. I have to go. I have to move. I repeated the same encouragement in my head over and over, taking heavy breaths as the cold bit at my skin more and more by the second. Eventually, I closed my eyes, threw open the door, and slammed my foot into the snow. It hurt. Another step. More pain. Keep going. It was so cold.

There didn't seem to be anyone else out in forest yet -- at least, I didn't hear anything, but I was also moderately preoccupied by the sharpness of pain in my toes. I took a heavy breath once again, the exhale visible in the cold air, pushing through this pain. There has to be someone, right? Maybe Sans again? Or maybe even Papyrus? Anyone else? I don't know what to do here, or how to get home...

Then I spotted it. The bridge, with its silly, oversized gate that barely balanced enough across the opening to stand up correctly. If things went as they normally did, in a little bit, I should hear that familiar voice...

"Human."

Oh no.

That wasn't familiar at all.

It was deeper, more raspy, and overall... terrifying. I froze in place, my now numbed feet succumbing to the pins that surrounded my every bit of exposed flesh.

"Hey, now... don'cha know how'ta greet a new pal? Turn around."

I swallowed quietly, slowly turning myself to face the voice's source standing behind me. I had already been trembling from the cold, but now I was shivering with fear so much that I'm surprised I haven't fallen over yet. My breath stuttered, jittering with every slight movement I made.

Red. It was the first thing I noticed about him. His whole outfit was lined with red traces, even his sweater was solid crimson. His black jacket had red patches along its golden stripes down each arm, matching the stripes on his black gym shorts. But when I caught sight of his face -- it was almost unbelievable. So much was familiar, yet so much was different. I could see in those eye sockets and with the shape of his skull, this was Sans, but those teeth... shark-like, one having been replaced by gold that was jammed into a now cracked part of his upper jaw. His smirk was horrifying, yet somehow patient, as he waited for me to finally turn around before continuing his speech.

The red Sans pulled a hand out of his pocket, every bone on it visible and cracked, unlike Sans's usual mittens. I stared at it for a long time, as if I'd somehow never seen these hands before, but I think I took in those scars the most. It was like a worn-down version of what I was used to. An abandoned version you'd find at the second-hand store. But soon, he pushed the hand closer to me, aggressively demanding, "Shake my hand."

I reached out my left hand nervously, feeling somehow more scared to go for a handshake than I was to freeze my feet off in the snow. But the second my palm touched his, I was struck with a jolt that flew up my arm and straight down my spine until it could fly from my feet into the ground. I yelped at the sudden pain -- only for the tension to break with the red Sans's deep voice erupting into a fit of laughter. He was absolutely losing it, even trying to speak but finding himself unable to for how much his giggling just overwhelmed his entire being. Eventually, he finally hacked out through laugher, "Fuck, the joy buzzer in the hand trick, it's always funny."

I couldn't help but wonder about him. His speech was so similar to Sans's, but just that little bit different. His word choice, his actions, even his choice of humor was just as dorky as Sans's. But something was so incredibly different about him. I don't know what happened. Is this still him?

"Well, nice to meet'cha, I'm --"

"Sans, right?"

The eyelights of the skeleton before me shrank with sudden fear, his previous expression of joy falling apart. I couldn't tell what he was thinking -- was he scared? Angry? Confused? His facial ticks were so much different than what I was used to, I had no idea what to think. I couldn't read him. I thought again, fearfully, is this Sans?

"... how the hell d'ya know that?" Red Sans's voice was low, his shark teeth flashed in a angry frown. His eyelights shot fear down my spine.

What do I say? What do I do? I don't know! Every semblance of a sentence falls apart before I can get it out. He takes a step towards me; I take a step back. "Oh, not so confident now, are ya? Gonna pretend like you're a little bitchy scaredy cat now, huh? Look, human, you're lucky I haven't just reaped ya for EXP yet. Maybe if ya tell me why the hell you know my name, we can get away scot-free, eh?" His frown was deadly, his eyelights shrinking to none. "How's that sound?" he hissed, his shoe jamming into my numbed toes.

Had it not been for the snow, that would have hurt a lot more, but even still, it threw my walking off balance, and I fell onto the bridge, it creaking horrifyingly loud as I did. It swayed a little; I took a glace at the ground below it -- oh. There wasn't any. Oh no.

My attention was pulled back to the red Sans by force: he grabbed me with his right hand, fingertips jammed into my cheeks, twisting my neck back to face him. He knelt over me, resting his elbows on his kneecaps, face as violent as I'd ever seen his before. No, it's far more deadly. Far more sincere.

A bone with a sharpened end manifested itself in the red Sans's free hand. He aimed it directly at me. "Ya gonna talk, or no? Trust me, I don't wanna hurt such'a pretty human as much as the next guy, but I can't have little spies or whatev'a you are runnin' around, ya feel? So, jus' tell me how the hell ya know my name, and I'll let'cha go, sweetheart."

The pet names were horrifying coming from him for the first time in my life. Though, this voice was completely different. His name is Sans but... This isn't Sans. Not at all.

I croaked a sound from my throat, to the red Sans's surprise. I was scared to, but even still, I continued, with the best lie I could muster while having my life flash before my very eyes.

"You... look like someone I know with that name."

But he didn't seem to like it. He immediately frowned, his mouth almost in a pout. "That's it? C'mon, doll face, you're really gonna make me go through all the effort of tryin' to kill ya just for somethin' as simple as that?" He huffed, the bone from his hand dissipating as he dropped my head back onto the wooden bridge. "Such'a waste of energy. C'mon, get'chur ass up. I still sorta got a job or somethin' for watchin' out for humans, so I guess I'll pretend to do that or somethin', I don' fuckin' know." As he stood up, he started mumbling other things to himself, stepping over my body to the other side of the crevice where I assumed his sentry station would be. I slowly got myself up off of the ground, every bit of me still trembling and numb.

"Oh, c'mon, what's the fuckin' hold up?" Red Sans expressed this annoyance loudly as he turned around to face me. I had just managed to stand up when we locked eyes for a second, only able to register fear for a split second before my eyes went fuzzy, and my body went completely limp.

The first shock was that I woke up. The second shock was that it was wrapped up practically swaddled in three blankets, curled up on a familiarly ugly carpeted floor. I could feel heat radiating from somewhere, and when I looked up, I spotted a room heater only a few feet away from my gaze. And, only another few feet away from that, coiled up into a stiff ball leaning against the chipping paint on the walls, was the red Sans from before. He had a mug in his hand now, and a expression sprawled across his face that couldn't be described as anything other than "grumpy."

I slowly freed my arms from the blankets around me, the movement startling Sans a bit. "Oh. You're alive," he muttered. It had traces of forced disappointment, but that breathy tone of relief overpowered it. "Don't go fallin' into never-ending canyons like that, a'ight? 's not good." His voice was overall more muffled and slurring, lacking the distinct confidence it held earlier today.

I leaned up from where I had been laying, finding myself in Sans's room once again. But this one was much different. His walls were chipping paint, there was a lot more trash everywhere, and it looked like his window had a big crack in it. Even his door was loose: it was half off the top hinge, leaning crooked into the carpeted floor. I wondered where he got these blankets from -- they were practically pristine, as if they were brand-new, with some really odd design choices. One was flames, another with pirate ships, and the third was a bunch of cats. I kind of giggled at the thought of red Sans here having a soft side for baby kittens, considering he literally threatened my life only not too long ago. Or... maybe it was a while ago. I don't know how long I was asleep.

"Do you like cats?" I asked him, referencing to the blanket around me.

Sans sneered. "Hell no. I hate those damn bastards. My brother's the cat guy. Prob'ly cause they're jus' as horrible as he is." He mumbled the last part, almost as if he didn't want anyone to hear him. He took a loud, long sip from the mug he had still in his grip.

"Do... you not get along with your brother?" I had hesitated, only to stop myself from directly referring to him as Papyrus. I didn't need another death sentence today.

Red Sans laughed. "I couldn't if I wanted'ta. And trust me. I've wanted'ta." He glared at the floor. "Fuckin' asshole's too full of himself to care about me anymore." His voice sounded defeated in a way, losing that pride that he'd been otherwise holding strong. He slammed down another glug, this time quietly and quickly.

I pushed the blankets around me off, with intentions of moving a bit closer to him, but within seconds of the first shuffle I made to leave the bundle, Sans placed down his mug, shortcutting in front of me -- even though it was just a few feet -- and re-wrapping me into the blankets. "You'll get fuckin' cold again. Don't."

I was confused by this sudden turn around from earlier. "But it's hot in here," I confessed, a twinge of a whine lacing my tone.

Now, I should say, that was said entirely seriously, without any second meanings whatsoever.

However, that didn't stop Sans from locking gazes with me, pouting even more so than before, a hint of red whisping across his cheeks. "Don' say shit like that," he murmured, voice slurred as he let go of my blankets.

"What are you talking about? I'm swaddled in a bunch of blankets with a space heater by my head. It's hot."

Suddenly, something clicked, and his face got an even deeper shade of red, teeth sprawling into an angry grin. "F'ckin' bullshit..." he mumbled angrily. "Wh-whatever! Nevermind what I said. Jus'... I don' fuckin' care. Just don't complain if ya get cold again, a'ight?"

And with that, he went back to his huddled position against the wall. I let the blankets slip off of my shoulders as I crept over to where Sans was sitting. He raised a brow as I approached. "What?" he snapped.

"Uh... Can I sit by you?" I asked.

"No. Fuck off."

Oh.

I went back to where I had been sitting before by the room heater, my knees tucked up to my chest so I could lean my chin against them. My eyes fell upon red Sans once again. He wasn't looking back to me, but I was just staring. It was... Hard to see him as a man I once dated. I kept seeing bits and pieces of the Sans I know in him -- each time I see one, my Soul flares up like it's an instinct response. But so much of him was different that it was very hard to think of him as... Sans. His speech, his voice, his clothing choice... He was so distinctly different.

And yet, that gaze in his eye sockets was all the same. And the fact that he risked himself to save me... even after threatening me... He was in there, somewhere.

"Sans," I blurted. He grunted a response of acknowledgement. "Why did you save me from falling off into the abyss? Why not leave me? You were going to kill me anyway, weren't you?"

He didn't respond for a long while. I had expected maybe a laugh or a huff or something like that, but he didn't do any of those things. Even still, he refused to make eye contact again, staring into his now-empty mug. "I wasn't gonna kill ya," he breathed. "That's not my style. I know it doesn't make a lotta sense, livin' in a place where ya gotta kill to survive'n'all that shit... but it doesn't feel good. Gaining EXP feels sick." He sighed heavily. "An' I saved ya, 'cause... 'cause... 'c-cause it's my job'ta capture humans, not kill 'um. That's Asgore's job." He didn't sound so sure on that final explanation.

Red Sans set down his mug and rolled out from his ball into a stretched out position, both his feet out before him, and his arms acting as a cusion as they were crossed and sitting behind his head leaning against the wall. But, I couldn't help but notice...

"Nice socks," I commented.

Instantly, Sans jolted, pulling his legs closer to him. "I-I told ya, my brother's the cat guy, not me. These are his socks, a-a'ight? I just didn't feel like doin' laundry!"

They were an off white, with little brown cat faces stitched into them like a polka dot pattern. It really contrasted the rest of his "tough guy" kind of outfit he had going. Admittedly, it was cute.

Outside of his room, towards the front of the house, there was a very loud door slam. Sans's entire body jolted, eyelights falling to slits of white. "SANS!" A scream echoed from the living room.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck --" Sans kept repeating this in a panic, looking to me with scattered gazes, flipping his eyes to everything in his room before finally deciding on just grabbing me like some kind of pillow -- I grunted, to which he shushed me -- tossed me onto his bare mattress, and then threw the blankets on top of me. "Be quiet. Don't say a fuckin' thing or you're dead, got it?" Sans hissed to me. The door to his room slammed open.

"SANS." The loud voice ripped through the room without any care for the pain it caused.

Sans's voice followed up, much more quiet and trembling. "Y-yeah, Boss?"

"HOW MANY TIMES THIS WEEK DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STAY. AT. YOUR. POST!" There was the sound of aggressive tapping on the floorboards. "YOU HAVE EXACTLY ONE JOB AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT. YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK TERRIBLE WITH THIS STUPID CHARADE OF BEING LAZY YOU HAVE!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I'll go back, d-didn't mean'ta worry ya --"

"AND WHY IN THE NAME OF ASGORE DO YOU HAVE MY BLANKETS IN YOUR ROOM?" I froze. Oh no. It's his brother. Steps came closer to me, echoing on the wooden floor like the horrifying sound of hearing a teacher with heels down the hall while you skipped class. I kept still, slowing my breath and doing my best to remain calm. "AND THESE ARE THE ONES I JUST WASHED! AND YOU BRING THEM INTO YOUR DISGUSTING ROOM!"

"S-s-sorry, Boss, I wasn't thinkin' --"

"NO, YOU WEREN'T. I'D SAY RETURN THEM TO ME, BUT --" I felt as he snatched the top one for a moment, dropping it quickly after with a sound of disgust. "EUGH. THEY ALREADY REEK OF MUSTARD AND GREASE. WASH THEM FIRST."

"Y-you got it, B-Boss." Sans's trembling voice was so opposite to the confidence I heard from him earlier that it alone was scaring me. The heels clicked across the floor again, going back to Sans's doorway.

"AND WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH THAT, COME BACK TO WORK. AND DON'T WASTE TIME." The door slammed shut before Sans could even reply. I relaxed a bit, but nothing happened until there was the front door slam once again. That's when Sans let loose a large breath, throwing the blankets off of me. His eyes were stricken with fear, eyelights trembling slits of white that looked me over the second he saw me again. Did he think I'd disappeared?

"S-sorry you had'ta see that... or, uh, hear that." Sans mumbled as he sat on the opposite end of his bed. "Fuck, sorry, 'm really sorry..."

I sat up quickly. "What's --" But as soon as I saw him, I stopped myself.

His face was deadpan, staring at the floor, his hands loosely thrown across his lap. He didn't say anything, didn't look at me. He just stared. I let him have the silence; Sans needed a moment to recollect himself, that much was evident.

"I'mma ask you somethin'," he mumbled. "Jus' who the hell are you?" I paused, confused, waiting for further explanation. "You don't think I fuckin' noticed when there was somethin' different about ya? You're not the normal kid who comes runnin' around here all willy-nilly'n'shit." Sans inhaled heavily, his hands balling into fists on his lap. "If ya were, things wouldn't be happenin' this way. What the hell did you do? Where the hell did ya come from?"

Honestly, I had no idea how to respond. Should I just say it outright? Would he understand what I'm talking about? Then again, if he recognizes the pattern of every reset, and only now something is different... I think he's probably more able to understand this than I thought. Was this... something Sans always recognizes? The... last one I was with mentioned something about this too. But the... first one I met never said anything about this.

"An' you've got thing on your neck, too." Red Sans looked at me again, eyelights focused on my neck. I stupidly tried to look at it, but then instead reached my hand up to it -- ow.

Right. The flower.

"Somethin's real weird about ya, sweetheart, and I don't know what the hell it is."

I sighed. Well, the truth is better than nothing. I might as well say it.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here," I started. Sans snickered and mumbled something like "That much is obvious," but I ignored him. "I was dating you but... you looked different than you do now. I can still see it's you from your face, but... Your resemblance to the Sans I recall is really slim."

Red Sans perked up for a second upon hearing this. His brow furrowed, eyes targeted on my face. "You're kiddin', right? You're out here tryin' to tell me you're from some alternate universe?" He released a gruff sigh, muttering under his breath what sounded like, "For fuck's sake." He continued mumbling for a little while longer until something hit him. His muttering stopped as a very uncharacteristic squeak left his teeth, Sans slapping his hand across his mouth as he flew to the very edge of his mattress, eyelights staring at me. Almost like his hand was burning his face, it started glowing red. "D-d-d-... D-did you say you were... dating me?" He sounded almost scared.

I tilted my head. "Yes," I answered truthfully. I figured I better not ask why.

His hand dropped from his face, the corners of his mouth twitching a bit, but Sans otherwise didn't stop staring at me. His gaze did flicker for a while, though, as if he was suddenly very interested in every inch of my body, his face glowing brighter by the second. Eventually he met my eyes again and started rambling. "L-look, doll face, I know I said ya looked pretty earlier, but if you're gonna jus', uh, make up some whack story about how we were datin' in another world or time or whatever, jus'... I-I dunno, jus'... jus' outright tell me if ya like me like a normal person, a'ight?! Don't do... whatever stupid business you're doin' right now!"

His words made sense, but the sentences didn't string well together.

"Sans, I'm not lying."

"You jus' makin' shit up to make up for the fact that you knew my name, right? You jus' knew it from somewhere. I don't fuckin' know where the hell a human would live unnoticed in the Underground but you're one helluva spy t'jus'... I dunno, do whatever the hell ya do? Look, I won't turn ya in! I'll keep ya here or whatever so Asgore doesn't kill ya! You can just tell me you're doin' whatever spy human-y shit you're doin', I don't fuckin' know, without lyin' about it!"

"Sans, I'm not lying," I repeated.

"How the hell's a guy like me supposed'ta believe that? That ya cared 'bout me enough wherever else to date me in a diff'rent timeline? Nah, nah that's bullshit!" He violently shook his hands, as if throwing away the idea. "You're speakin' straight up bullshit!"

"What would make you believe me?"

He halted his speech, staring at me blankly. Sans's face ran through several different expressions at once, overall looking overwhelmed and confused. Eventually, he settled on anger: "Don't suggest shit like that, human," he hissed.

"Suggest what?" I blinked, genuinely confused as to whether or not I said something weird.

"Stop! Suggestin' you like me! 's bullshit!" He ran through an amalgam of confused emotions again, his hands trembling into fists once again. "It... It's not... Nobody..." Sans shook his head. "Don't fuckin' bother with me, a'ight? Whatever, I don't care if you're being truthful or not! Jus' don't mess with me! Do whatever little reset-y thin' you humans do whenever somethin' goes wrong and find somebody else!"

The room held a silence. Sans just breathed heavily for a long while, seemingly winded from yelling so much. But I, on the other hand...

"What do you mean... 'reset'?"

First, he was pissed at the question, and I was expecting another attack of words, but then his expression suddenly fell to something so somber and gentle that he reminded me of the Sans I met. Something about that look in his eyes -- that flicker of hope in his eye sockets, the faintness of a dream across his reddend face, it reminded me of that time. The MTT resort. That pseudo date. When I decided to turn back and stay. That same hope and dream.

"Y... You're jokin', now," red Sans heaved. "No, no, you're... You gotta be messin' with me... But how... How..." His head drooped, attention given entirely to his floor. "I don't get it... but, why... why? Why would you do that to yourself?"

Taken aback, I quickly replied, "Do what to myself?"

"... Deal with me. Put up with me. Learn how to... love me."

His voice was quiet and tender, as if on the edge of breaking.

Sans didn't look at me.

His whole body was trembling.

He was gripping onto the sleeves of his sweatshirt for dear life.

It's as if he was near death.

I carefully thought through my words before I spoke. One misstep could send this the wrong way entirely. I took in a deep breath. And another. And another. Before finally deciding to give him my honest confession.

"It's not so hard to love every aspect of someone once you've already fallen for them. You're not exempt from being lovable."

He chuckled. He let loose a heavier laugh. "Doll face... That's cute, but you're wrong." He stared me in the face, his expression of confidence hiding the fear within his shaking eyelights. "My own fuckin' brother doesn't even love me. We grew up together, I practically raised him, and... he doesn't care 'bout me anymore." He sucked in a harsh breath. "He was all I had left after... after... a-after..." Breath stuttering even harder, he forced himself to continue. "... but now I'm nothing to him. Just some guy he can use for whatever stupid shit he's gotta do... he won't even let me call him my brother anymore. He's..." Sans pulled himself into a tight hug, death-gripping his arms as he trembled, voice cracking with every breath he took. His eyelights had fallen to the floor, focusing on nothing.

"I can't even be loved by my own damn brother, and you're expectin' me to just... believe that you dated me in another timeline?" Sans croaked with more laughter. "Sweetheart, I..." His tone started sarcastic, but he couldn't even bring himself to finish whatever joke he'd started. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, his jaw quivering slightly before he finally settled on what to say. "Even if you loved me then, I... I don't think I could bring myself to love you like you love me. I - I can't... do that again."

"Sans," I breathed. His attention flicked up to me again, however nervously. "It's okay. I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you. I'd swear my life on it." I offered him a smile; his eyelights perked up for the first time during this whole endeavor.

"There's almost nothing you could do or be that would make me stop loving you."

Ah. A line I would later come to regret.

#undertale #undertale au #underfell #undertale fanfiction #undertale fanfic #undertale sans #underfell sans #the butterfly effect #zircon writes #eyy i finally got around to writing this #also ive never actually watched steven universe (cause song choice)#i just heard the song in a video and liked it

16 notes · View notes

thirsty-x1 · 5 years

Text

Future Love | Lee Hangyul

Request:

hi, can i request a single dad! hangyul (*cough* featuring kid!dohyon) oneshot where he falls for the reader, who’s dohyon’s kindergarten teacher? looking for something generally fluffy but i’m also not opposed to smut in this 👀

↬ Pairing: Hangyul x fem!reader.

↬ Genre: Fluff, slightly suggestive (?).

↬ Warnings: none.

↬ Word Count: 2.9k

↬ Song Recommendation: “Future Love” by Katie.

↬ A/N: Honestly the whole karaoke part was added by me because the second I listened to Katie’s song that scenario came to mind and I wanted to fit it some-fucking-where and this was cute enough.

The bar was crowded, a few bottles sitting on the table as the rest of the guys around it cheered for the person that was currently on the stage, singing their heart out while trying to dance according to the rhythm, obviously too drunk for it. The atmosphere was lively, the laughs and screams filling it but all Hangyul could do was stare down to his phone, fingers quick to type a reply each time a new message came in.

“Yah, could you leave that? Spend some time with us, dude.” Yohan was pretty out of it, pouting slightly as he tried to steal the phone away.

“I will in a bit, I’m just trying to make sure Seungyoun doesn’t fuck up… don’t really trust him being a babysitter.”

Wooseok let out a small sigh. “I wanted to stay with Dohyon but Seungyoun insisted that we both needed a break.”

Seungwoo laughed at his tone, moving the cup on his hand and watching the liquid swirl. “We all needed to spend some time together. Besides, Dohyon loves him, I’m sure everything will be alright.”

Right as the older finished saying that, another message flashed on the screen:

Seungyoun-ssi:

2:15 a.m.: Just wondering, but would mixing chocolate with ramen really hurt Dohyon?

The headache was making way on Hangyul as he typed back (“Didn’t you say that he was asleep? And don’t do that.”), anxiety starting to form at the pit of his stomach while Yohan read over his shoulder, laughing out loud before trying to tell the others what he had just seen.

Seungyoun-ssi:

2:17 a.m.: I said “just wondering”, of course he is asleep

2:17 a.m.: I think he just woke up from you being so annoying

2:18 a.m.: Now I have to make him sleep again

2:18 a.m.: Go and have some fun while I’m here being the best uncle in the world

As if on cue, Seungwoo took the mobile phone, tapping on the screen a few times before putting it on his pocket, it being the sign that he wasn’t going to give it back anytime soon. Hangyul sighed, hoping his kid made it through the night and swallowed what was left on the cup before focusing on the new contestant that was on the stage now.

The song was slow, not matching with the whole bar at all, the chattering almost drowning the music, but it wasn’t enough for him to not hear the voice that started singing. The words sounded slightly slurred, probably due to the intake of alcohol, and somehow it made the feelings to be transmitted better, the nostalgia tingling on his sides.

Lyrics that matched his feelings with a steady beat along with a sad voice… that was all he needed to get his mind out of whatever Seungyoun was doing, his undivided attention going towards the girl that swayed on the stage. Something about her overall vibe made him smile to himself, the rest of the boys coming to a halt as soon as they saw his expression, and Hangyul just knew he fucked up.

“Go talk to her!” Yohan’s voice was starting to become annoying and if it wasn’t for the little self-control he had, plus the fact that he could beat his ass, he would have already snapped.

“The song literally talks about wanting something new. Go, both of you need it.”

Hangyul scoffed at Wooseok’s comment. “You need something new.”

Seeing where everything was going to, Seungwoo stopped the rest, his hands slamming the table delicately. “Just go and talk to her, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The younger shook his head, frustration making his way. They wouldn’t completely understand, being a single parent wasn’t easy and his schedule didn’t really leave any time to maintain some kind of relationship, and having an one night stand didn’t feel correct anymore. Explaining all that seemed too much, especially with the alcohol setting down in his system, so he simply excused himself as he got out, ignoring Wooseok’s warning about the cold air might make him feel worse.

He inhaled, letting the breeze fill his lungs before throwing his head back, his mind going empty as he stared at the stars above. A smile spread on his face as he remembered the way Dohyon’s eyes resembled them, usually whenever he listened to music or saw him cooking his favorite meal, making grabby hands whenever he felt cranky and wanted to be lifted up, or his squeaky giggles whenever he put him above his shoulders so that he could reach the cookie jar. There wasn’t a single moment he regretted, his son really being worth it, but there was no use in denying that he felt lonely at times and there was nothing that could fill that place, not even the kid’s chubby cheeks.

“So you are alone too, huh?” The voice made him turn around quickly, his face burning up as he saw the same girl that was singing inside before in front of him. “The night is so lovely, though~”

“Ah, yes.” If possible, he would have slapped himself right at that moment.

“You know what I hate the most? That people pity us for being alone. Is it really that bad?” Hangyul eyes opened wide at the sudden conversation topic, but she continued. “There is a reason for us to be like this, why do they try to set me up with random people? It makes me feel worse…”

“I know, right? I have the same problem. My friends behave as if they knew what’s best for me, almost feel like I’m a baby in their eyes.” His whole anger was leaving his body as he complained, the alcohol making its work.

“Yes! Exactly! It makes me mad but also somehow guilty! I have other priorities in life and I’m not always thinking about getting laid.” He nodded, snorting at the last bit of information. “I mean, it wouldn’t be terrible if it happened, but it’s not at the top of my list, y’know? What’s at the top of your list?”

Doubt filled him, not knowing if mentioning it now was the best thing, but since the situation didn’t seem to be leading anywhere not innocent, he was honest. “My kid. He’s five, and honestly lights up my days like no one else does.”

“Oh, married or single, or something else?” He couldn’t help but to chuckle, surprised at her boldness.

“Let’s leave it at single. What about you? What’s your number one priority?”

The girl seemed to be in deep thought, or otherwise fallen asleep. “My career. Well, my students. I get a kind of satisfaction that is pretty different from any other kind… makes me happy, really happy.”

Hangyul raised his eyebrows, not expecting her to be a teacher since she looked rather young, or at least around his age. “But the loneliness still lingers, doesn’t it?” When her head turned abruptly, he felt a slight pinch on his stomach, regretting adding that last part.

It wasn’t what he expected: the way that her eyes suddenly dropped to the ground, a sad smile on her face as she nodded before suddenly cheering up, changing the topic while making it obvious that she was trying to avoid deepening in the previous subject. Honestly, he didn’t want to either, feeling already pretty exposed and simply followed her, laughing at her random jokes and smiling to himself whenever she did the same with his.

Time seemed to flow effortlessly between them, the air not feeling cold anymore, maybe due to the blush that covered his cheeks. It had been a long time since he felt that comfortable talking to someone, talking to a complete stranger, but the warmth that she radiated made him feel at ease, his barriers breaking down as she let him see more of herself. He tried to memorize her face, the way her hands moved when she talked, her exaggerated expressions as she related a story… probably was the alcohol that made her be so open, or maybe that was how she really was, he couldn’t tell, but he found it incredibly charming.

“Whoa, your life is indeed pretty interesting…”

He giggled for the twentieth time. “Is it?”

“Yeah! Would make a really good movie.”

A smile spread on his face again, being the first time that someone reacted that way instead of saying something like “I’m sorry you had to go through that” or otherwise feel some kind of sorrow towards him. He turned around to reply to her, about to ask about her life before he met with her lips pressed against his, confusion swirling in his insides before he returned the kiss, his trembling hand resting on the nape of her neck as he pulled her closer, the taste of soju on the tip of his tongue. Her hands tangled on his hair, playing with it as she bit on his bottom lip, sighing when he pressed his body against hers. Hangyul wanted to blame the alcohol for what was happening, but her mouth was more intoxicating that any other liquor he had ever tasted, making him fall and give in to her taste, the control slipping past his fingers without him caring one bit about it.

“Yah, we have to get going, Seungwoo ended up throwing up– oh.” It was the annoying voice again.

“What is taking you so much? Oh.” The second annoying voice joined. “See? I told you, both of you needed it.”

After some unnecessary debate on whether they were right or not, Hangyul finally made it home, only to find Seungyoun laying on the floor of the living room with Dohyon on top of him, three cups of ramen empty on the table as well as some chocolate wrappings. Better not to ask or he would beat someone’s ass again, so he carefully picked up the small kid, shushing him to sleep as he took him to bed, coming back and slightly kicking Seungyoun as he got back, throwing the trash away.

“Ouch, what– ah, you are back.”

“Told you to not give him that.”

“He hated it, isn’t that good? Now he won’t want to try it again. You’re welcome.”

Can’t argue with his logic, or more like didn’t want to do it. He still thanked the older for taking care of Dohyon, gulping down a glass of water as he let him stay in exchange for the help, heading for the shower despite the tiredness washing over his body, trying to sober up and erase the memories. Right after he finished, he laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling while wondering about what her name was, eyes closing with the doubt wandering on his mind.

“Get up, sleepy head, time to go.”

Dohyon complained but sat up anyway, his hair sticking up in every direction as his tiny hand scratched his belly. Hangyul laughed, grabbing the brush and quickly controlling the chaos, holding the outfit that Seungyoun chose (because Dohyon liked more “uncle’s style” rather than his) and chuckling as the child nodded approvingly.

Half an hour later, they were ready, Dohyon still eating the last bits of food on the car as Hangyul drove towards the kindergarten. First day of school and everything seemed to be perfect, pride filling his chest. Little moments like this were the ones that made him feel satisfied with himself, the smile on the small kid being all he wanted. He parked the car, got out and held out his hand until he felt the tiny one hold it back, walking towards the entrance and scanning the place.

“Are you excited for your first day?” He was actually trying to sense if he was nervous, but seeing Dohyon’s expression, he was so happy about it.

“Yes… I hope I get to make friends.” His eyes opened wide as he looked up to him. “Maybe someone else likes music? Or ramen with chocolate?”

Hangyul could feel his eye twitch. “Ramen with chocolate?”

“Ah, right, uncle said to keep it a secret from you…” He proceeded to shrug his shoulders as he walked confidently to the entrance, eyes smiling at who he thought was his teacher while Hangyul made a mental note of maybe killing Seungyoun.

He kneeled, fixing Dohyon’s clothes before kissing his forehead and wishing him a good day, standing up and bowing to the teacher, freezing on the spot when he saw the same girl from a few weeks ago standing in front of him. Her eyes reflected the same panic that his, suddenly turning his stare to the small kid without paying one bit of attention to the tall one as she grabbed Dohyon’s hand and waved the other one, the child imitating her and saying goodbye to his dad as he disappeared behind the doors.

The whole rest of the day was spent with him trying to plan what to say when he went to pick up Dohyon. Should he pick him up? Maybe he could call Seungwoo and ask him to do so, although Wooseok would definitely complain about why he never trusted him with his kid, the reason being because he would never stop bothering him with how good he is with children if he did. Seungyoun was out of the discussion, and maybe since it was Dohyon’s first day the best was if he went to pick him up… he was driving crazy, until at the end he simply gave up, deciding that maybe he was overthinking it and maybe she didn’t remember the whole thing and was simply acting flustered because she remembered that he listened to her sing while being drunk. Yeah, that must have been it, for sure.

Time passed slow, his brain melting as he waited for the clock to hit the closure hour, jumping out of the car as he saw some kids getting out. He waited at the entrance, eyes scanning the place in hopes of finding her, his heart beating a little bit faster as he saw Dohyon being carried in her arms, feeling a bit jealous of the way she was staring at him with loving eyes while pinching his cheeks. As soon as he saw Hangyul, he let Dohyon on the ground, hurrying him to grab his coat and stepping in front of him, fists closed tight as she looked to have mustered all her courage.

“Hello.”

His eyebrows shoot up at the simple greeting. “Ah, hi, yes, hello, I-I’m Hangyul, Dohyon’s father.”

“Yes, he talked about you quite a lot.” A cold shiver ran down his spine, hoping that whatever the child said was good. “I’m y/n, Dohyon’s teacher from now on.”

Her hand was extended between them, the slight tremble being too obvious and the shyness in her voice while pretending to be firm made him hide a smile, giving a soft grip to her hand and blushing as she bit his lip trying to hold back her giggle. Her attitude was so different from that one night, but it was still utterly adorable in his eyes.

“Could we exchange numbers? Just in case an emergency happens…” Ridiculous. Absolutely pathetic

“Ah, of course, we were going to ask the parents for them anyway.” Wait, it worked? “But, uh… the rest of the mothers seem to be taking a certain interest in you.”

“Are you jealous about it?” His voice dropped low, gulping when he realized what he had just said.

“Dad, what are you two talking about it? Can we go? I have to complete the activities before it’s time for my third meal.” And at times like these, Hangyul was thankful he had a small bundle of happiness to take him off awkward situations.

“Yes, it’s better if we go, you’re right.”

He walked with Dohyon to the entrance, telling him to go to the car as he turned around with the slight tapping on his shoulder.

“I might be jealous. A bit.” Her cheeks painted in the loveliest shade of red before skipping back to the building, picking up another of the kids that was crying.

Hangyul shook his head, smiling dumbfoundedly as he got in the car and immediately looking at his son.

“So you talked about me a lot today, huh?”

Dohyon denied it slowly. “I talked about uncle but my teacher kept asking about you.”

He was conflicted about whether he should be happy or sad, but decided to ignore that as his phone vibrated with a new message.

Unknown:

18:14 p.m.: Dohyon-ie already had his third meal.

18:14 p.m.: By the way, he kept asking if I tried ramen and chocolate?

Was this real enough?

Hangyul:

18:16 p.m.: Maybe I can help you find out what he means one of these days?

He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, ignoring for a while Dohyon complaints as he waited for a reply, his heart beating faster as the minutes went by.

Y/N (Future Love):

18:21 p.m.: Sounds like a good plan.

Whether he did a little celebration in the car was a secret between him and Dohyon, and maybe every single person that walked right in front of it.

“So, I need you to tell me about the recipe that uncle invented.”

Yes, it ends abruptly and yes, I didn’t intend for it to be this long but still loved how it turned out. What a good daddy.

~Nani

| Masterlist |

#lee hangyul #lee hangyul scenario #lee hangyul fluff #hangyul scenario #hangyul fluff #hangyul #x1 lee hangyul #x1 hangyul #x1 #x1 scenario #x1 fluff #unb #unb scenario #unb fluff

86 notes · View notes

fistsoflightning · 4 years

Text

23: i wanna know what you’re doing tonight

prompt: shuffle || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2796

Does writing music based on things your friend said count as flirting?

It’s AU brainworm time everybody >:3 This “main street” AU is basically balefire/mom squad’s ‘what if we made a bunch of small town romance ideas and mashed them together’ which turns out to be a lot more hilarious than it should be. Featuring (chat) cameos from @windupcatgirl @to-the-voiceless @windupnamazu @verbroil and @winduphaurchefant because why not. Title from this song!

For all intents and purposes, Zaya enjoys autumn; summer heat cooling off into a pleasant chill, the sunlight that lingers enough to keep warm in the early weeks. The trees may die, but in doing so they grow colorful, and though the flowers in A’dewah’s little shop don’t do the same he changes which ones are on display to match better with the tree outside. It does mean Krile—and more recently, one G’raha Tia—have to return to Mor Dhona, their studies resuming, but it’s not like they can’t chat.

It does, however, mean the return of autumn showers—and they don’t even hate rain that much—and fortunately Zaya managed to forget their poncho just as the first big storm pulled in. Mor Dhona wasn’t that far of a drive away, really, just two or three hours on a road Zaya had taken enough times before, but in the middle of a rainstorm? Without a rainproof coat?

Well, at least Miss Eldfalk’s documents are staying dry in the carrier at Zaya’s back, even if the chill of the rain has already soaked through the wool of their jacket and started to dampen their shirt by the time they pull into the parking garage just a block or so away from the museum waiting on Sjanna’s delivery. Thankfully the inn is just an elevator away and not on the other side of the road; they should keep a spare poncho or umbrella in the motorcycle luggage next time.

Zaya pushes the thought aside as they slip off their helmet and the phone in their pocket begins to buzz about, safely tucked within the canvas pocket of their overalls and hopefully not just as soaked as their hands are. Wiping their palms and fingers on the inside of their legs, they unzip the soggy jacket and tug out the borrowed phone to see the numerous Linkcord notifications—of course.

Leaning onto the front of their motorcycle, Zaya hardly takes a second glance up to the storm just out the window behind them as a few taps and a swipe unlocks the screen, opening up to the Linkcord discussion of the day (night? Night.)

[ text channel #mom-panic; 9:47 PM ]

banned for baby crimes zayaaaaaa i miss you Hanami Hagane You are just saying that because you have no one to drag around the fair. Hanami Hagane Besides, they will be back tomorrow afternoon. banned for baby crimes no i’m not!! that’s too long!! i brought ihget but he’s being stupid and wont ride the ferris wheel with me :’) banned for baby crimes i cant find lunya and reese either so now im stuck with himbo here local breadhead we’re just by the cotton candy stand! lunya’s waving at you ;) banned for baby crimes OH THERE YOU ARE HOW DID I MISS YOU hold on i gotta grab the chad first local breadhead 😊 banned for baby crimes but i really miss zaya even if they’re just over in mor dhona.. so does ochir he- i- banned for baby crimes has anyone seen ochir ihget lost him in the crowd- this says zaya 😱 reese is in pieces :O( YOU WHAT?? local breadhead oh dear lmao reese is in pieces :O( i hope no one tries to take him :( reese is in pieces :O( lunya says if your stupid catboy loses zaya’s bird shes not going to make you two the mini versions of zaya’s courier hat banned for baby crimes IT SNTO MY FAULT ZAYA JR HERE WAS BEIGNB ROODY ADN LOOKED AWAY NOOOOOOO,,, Hanami Hagane Why bring the bird with you, anyways. Zaya lent you Ochir’s cage. banned for baby crimes he made sad noises when ihget n i were abt to leave,,,,

The chat quickly devolves from there into Sati panicking about Zaya’s violet-backed starling going rogue and everyone else jumping in and hells, they are not in the mood to manage that. Drops of water fall from their chin onto the screen; they hastily wipe it away before shoving the phone back into their pocket and hop off their motorcycle. A few quick movements with the key round their wrist opens up the luggage attachment with the satchel of papers inside—blessedly dry, thank the gods they splurged on a decent one instead—which they swing over their shoulder as they start walking to the elevator.

A dripping trail has probably followed them all the way from the parking garage to the lobby, they think in passing as they stop at the front desk, waiting for the receptionist to turn around. Their hand goes to fiddle with the small keychain on their keyring as they wait, still dripping their own personal puddle around them.

“Hello, hello! Welcome to the Seventh Heaven, how may I—” Tataru turns around, small smile widening into a sunny bright grin when she sees them, even if they’re dripping all over the lobby. “Zaya! Good to see you back again; need a room for the night, then?”

A curt nod (that sends water droplets onto the surface of Tataru’s desk) is all she needs to hop off her stepping stool and onto the ground, waving Zaya along before she cheerily marches down the halls with a keyring jingling in her hand. Not even the gloomy rainstorm thundering outside can put a damper on her mood, it seems.

“Payment for the night’s stay may be given in the form of Gannet Bay gossip, alright?” Tataru unlocks the door to a nicely decorated room with a quick turn of her hand, playfully winking over her shoulder as she does. Her violet eyes glimmer almost the same as Lunya’s, really; filled with teasing joy and secrets. “I’ve heard from the grapevine about a certain catboy quite enjoying the atmosphere out there, now!”

She steps aside as the door swings fully open, giving a little curtsy, and Zaya gives her an energetic thumbs-up as they walk past her into the room, pleasantly warm and bright from the small fireplace in the corner of the room, banked low so its amber glow only flickers across the floor.

First things first: getting out of all the soggy clothing they’re wearing.

They hang their satchel (papers still neatly bound inside, good) on the wall hook by the door and haphazardly strip off their shoes and socks, followed by the once-warm and fluffy jacket as they look about for spare hangers.

Ah; Tataru always has their back. Hanging on the end of the bed are a set of four or so hangers, which Zaya snaps up with ease, carefully slipping the wooden hangers through sleeves and loops as they finally get to their undershirt—blissfully dry, if not a bit cold. Their overalls aren’t all that damp on the top but are more than soaked the further down the legs one looks… hopefully that dries quick enough.

Just as they finish kicking their ankle-high boots to the mat by the door, a quiet yet unfamiliar chime fills the room, and Zaya nearly thinks to check outside the door for the noise when the light vibrations trickle up their arm. The soft ringtone—someone humming along to a muffled orchestra, maybe; not the smartest of choices for a calling ringtone—grows louder as Zaya stares down at their collection of soggy clothing.

...Alright, second: answer the damn phone?

Zaya nearly fumbles all the hangers to grab their phone from the pockets of their overalls and accept the call, only briefly reading the name from the screen before his face pops up in its place. White hair and a charming grin, perhaps—that is, to anyone who hadn’t heard the words that fall from his mouth like gentle rain.

(Okay, well, maybe that just helped. Zaya wasn’t going to say that out loud to anybody regardless; it didn’t matter what they thought of Thancred’s charms. Probably.)

“...I’d say ‘good evening’ but I wager you are having anything but just by the water dripping off your hair,” Thancred says in lieu of greeting, his voice warm and surrounded by the distant sounds of the usual fall fair attractions. “So instead, I’ll say this; is that old phone serving you well enough?”

Zaya nods; given, this one’s a bit clunky, but the lightness of their actual tomephone may have indirectly been the reason that they’d dropped it while helping out around town and eventually cracked the screen. At least Thancred had offered to lend them his old one for the trip to Mor Dhona in case, just on the off chance someone truly needed their attention, like for lost birds and ways to punish a distracted idiot.

They set it on the table, the front camera facing towards the window as Zaya steps into frame, still fiddling with the hangers in their hands. Mor Dhona may be covered in a gloomy storm, but the golden lights from the buildings around Revenant’s Toll Square still glow brightly in the distance, a refuge from the biting torrent of cold rain.

“Survived the water,” they sign slowly, stepping closer to the fireplace in a subtle attempt to dry off a bit quicker, almost fumbling when their fingers stiffen, chilled to the bone. Thancred laughs, the bridge of his nose crinkling just a tad like how it does when he can’t stop cracking himself up. “Still has power, too.”

“Glad to see it has survived, then.” There’s a slight pause where Thancred stops talking (and laughing) to catch his breath, the small silence filled with Zaya leaving frame to go hang their soaked clothes over the fireplace to hopefully dry for tomorrow. When they come back to look at the camera, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights dance across Thancred’s face, some colorfully lit attraction before him leaving his platinum blonde hair awash with a rainbow of color. “The storm there should burn off by early dawn, though; hopefully you will not have to drag yourself home dripping wet from your business in Mor Dhona.”

Ah, good. They yawn as discreetly as someone who’s on a video call can—which is to say, not very, and a rosy flush must spread on their face when Thancred chuckles under his breath, low and steady.

“Forgive me,” he says next, voice lowered as if he were disturbing someone’s rest. “I must be keeping you from collapsing; I can’t imagine a drive in the freezing rain and getting soaked is the least draining way to spend one’s night.”

In-between stretching out the tense muscles in their back and neck do they grunt some noise of agreement, the strain flaring momentarily before melting into a drowsy warmth that drips down the ridges of their spine. Really, spending time in Mor Dhona at all is a draining waste of time—when you make your home in somewhere as vibrantly quiet as Gannet Bay it’s hard to want the big city over the comforts of familiarity, of knowing each shop and its owners personally, of being able to help them all and see their smiles.

At least they can see one person from home, now.

“ ‘S fine,” they mumble softly, heart stuttering when Thancred’s smile widens at the sound of their voice. Part of them wishes they were there to playfully elbow him for that—it’s not that rare tha they’ll speak—and the other part of them they are desperately trying to ignore. “How’s th’ fair.”

“Wonderful.” He looks up for a moment as Zaya wraps themselves in the bed coverings, presumably to whatever booth or stall is shining down on his face with fluorescent lights. “Ryne’s had a wonderful time, I think. I haven’t seen your friends around, but would you like to hear about the odd variety of attractions around?”

Zaya hums sleepily, waiting for him to continue. They hardly even notices when their eyelids grow heavy and their fingers return to their usual warmth, entranced enough by the fond familiarity of Thancred’s voice as they drift off to sleep.

…

The next morning, Zaya wakes with the dawn that rises across Mor Dhona, the bright golden sunrise sneaking through the cracks of the large curtains to tickle their bedsheets. The cityscape outside the window is covered by low autumn morning fog, glimmering as the sunlight dances over it and the puddles the passing storm had left behind in its wake. Outside, it is nearly silent, only a few passing cars and hardly any pedestrians around when Zaya does their morning stretches by the window.

As is always with a trip into the city, they fall into an easy routine; wake with the sun, stretch out whatever they can without breaking something, get dressed and hastily grab everything before rushing out the door, wave Tataru a rushed but genuine goodbye. Trot down to the parking garage, check the bike, throw the satchel back into the luggage on the back as they slip on their stereo cuffs and flick through playlists on their phone before going to get breakfast at the Bismarck—

Zaya pauses their flick-tap scroll through the playlists on their phone when they catch one with their name. Odd; Thancred did always have the habit of making his friends their own personal playlists, but they’d like to think they didn’t give him that much of a read on their tastes just yet.

Shrugging to no one but themselves, they tap on the playlist and let it begin to play as they slide the phone back into their overall pocket, starting up their motorcycle’s engine just as the song begins to play.

They stop.

[ DM history with @superbolide; 7:36 AM]

zayaya ❓ zayaya 🌅😊❗🎵🎧💿❓❓ superbolide good morning to you too :) you’re up rather early superbolide something the matter? superbolide ah i haven’t got another song for you yet, if that’s the question rest assured, i’ll find something yet! zayaya 🙅

It hardly takes them more than a few seconds to grab a small screenshot of the playlist in question, sending it and another screenshot back to Thancred as they quietly listen to the same song Rjoli and Reese had playing near constantly for last Valentione’s Day in the bakery—still manages to be catchy, somehow. Let it not be said that acoustic covers were not their favorite.

The notification ringtone chimes when Thancred responds, cheery and bright.

Zaya goes a bit bug-eyed at what he types next, the song fading off as the next one on shuffle comes up—piano, humming, Thancred’s voice—

Thankfully, for it being so early in the morning, there’s no one around in the parking garage to judge the frankly embarrassing noise they make at their phone, or the bright flush that spreads across their face.

It isn’t like that, they remember saying, sputtering like a fish out of water when Lunya had barely insinuated that Thancred’s small wave as he walked past was a bit more than friendly. There’s no way he’d be interested in the courier that helped him choose out a ribbon at the local boutique, of all people! He doesn’t even know where I work!

Zaya drops their forehead onto the dash of their motorcycle, careful not to hit their horns against anything as they do.

Looks like they were wrong, about it ‘not being like that’. Maybe.

(Oh gods, they really hope they’re wrong.)

…

[ text channel #mom-panic; 8:03 AM]

💬 this says zaya is typing...

this says zaya😑 this says zaya💭🌑💘 🤟 ❓ banned for baby crimes DOES HTAT MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES closest to hell zaya qestir i swear on your lover boy’s life clarify for the peanut gallery local breadhead :0 reese is in pieces :O( i think hm reese is in pieces :O( zaya did thancred just confess or did somethign else happen this says zaya [ superbolide: oh haha i must have forgotten to upload those to my lifestream] this says zaya [ superbolide: there are some songs i did save, but all the clips there were lyrics i thought of after chatting w/ you 😉] this says zaya [ superbolide: i could make an EP dedicated to you w/ the inspo you gave me] this says zaya [ superbolide: that is, if you don’t mind] Hanami Hagane I told you he was obvious. closest to hell SATINA YOU OWE ME GUMMIES FROM SHOOTING STAR I CALLED IT closest to hell IT WAS OBVIOUS THE MUSIC HES MAKING WAS BC OF THEM local breadhead oh bless… that’s v sweet… banned for baby crimes HBHBHHB NOOO MY HARD EARNED GIL,,, banned for baby crimes BUT WE ALL WERE RIGHT ABOUT HIM THO reese is in pieces :O( awwwauaua!! banned for baby crimes so banned for baby crimes zaya banned for baby crimes when’s the wedding this says zaya 😡😡😡 closest to hell me🤝sati “when’s the wedding” this says zaya 👆💀🏡 Hanami Hagane You two better start running. banned for baby crimes WAIT ZAYA NO-

#ffxiv #zaya qestir #thancred waters #ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #tales from the blue #my writing #main street au #look its 2020 and i can write chatfic with my normal fic if i want #the song may be about breakup but this fic sure aint :^)#i dont know how to make the names all color text in tumblr ;W; ill fix it later...#balefire #elie's ffxivwrite2020 #s: bound by faith

4 notes · View notes

babystevie · 5 years

Text

Teacher AU

Part 2

Now called:

You came back into my life (Unexpectedly but I wouldn't have it any other way)

Also Available on AO3 : Here

With a few small changes

When Steve found out he was getting full custody of his newborn daughter two weeks after he graduated college, he had a slight mental breakdown.

This particular breakdown was mostly full of overflowing happiness at the prospect, then proceeded to turn into an actual panic attack at raising his beautiful daughter completely by himself.

When he thinks about it now, he should’ve known that this was always the way it was going to be. He respected Avery and thought she was a wonderful smart woman, which is why when they found out that they were having a child, while completely on accident, neither of them was to upset about it.

But overall, he should’ve seen it coming.

Steve is known for being unobservant when it comes to people, but he is getting pretty good at analyzing feelings, and people whether they are aware of it or not, tend to be open with how they feel. And Avery felt she just wasn’t ready to raise a child, and that aspect had nothing to do with Steve.

She wasn’t ready, and he respected that.

But,

It didn’t still his absolute breakdown when he received the full custody paperwork at the hospital.

Which, now that he thinks about it is actually horrifyingly embarrassing, and he should’ve waited until he was at home to do so, but luckily Robin was there to convince him that she wasn’t going to go anywhere and that he was going to be a great day.

And,

He thinks he’s doing a pretty great job.

After his breakdown, he agreed to send Avery pictures every school picture she wanted, and even though she wasn’t going to be in their lives, they both agreed that if his daughter wanted to meet her one day, they’d both be okay with it.

It was one of the most important adult conversations that he’d ever had in his life and was immensely grateful that she was such a good person.

Who just wasn’t ready.

Steve on the other hand, was overly prepared for his daughter, and thanks to his mother had everything he could even slightly think of needing for his little girl. Even though there was a large chance that his parents would likely never meet the girl, they did the exact same thing they did for Steve, which was filling the empty space with items that replaced them.

So, even though he was upset with them, he’d come to terms with their lack of personal involvement in stride, and he and Robin brought his little girl home and now they are here today.

At 6 months old, Stephanie was and always will be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

She has bright green eyes that match her mother’s but got the genes of a full head of Steve’s thick brown hair and the small moles that littered her skin were a direct mirror to what was all over his.

She is just beautiful. Steve may be slightly biased, but he doesn’t even care because he finally gets to love another person with the intensity that he carries with him when it comes to love. A love for another person that is completely dependent on him, and surely sees him with as much importance as he does,

Even though she still screams her head off at 2 in the morning from time to time.

As he walks into the daycare his daughter stays at during the weekdays while he’s teaching, she lights up with a recognition that he’s coming to take her home.

Where she will always be safe.

When everyone found out that Steve was going to be a dad, via Skype because he wasn’t about to leave the state any time soon after hearing the news, everyone was excited for him, but to his utter horror they had thought the baby was Robins, and they had both gotten a little green at that fact.

After the situation was cleared up, there was a lot more questions from the party, and a few hard stares from Hopper, and some squealing from Joyce and after she’d stopped making those noises, she’d called him back and threatened to fly out there and slap him if he wasn’t involved with that child’s life.

Now when he talks to Joyce, those threats have turned into praise that simply make him studder at the fact that she’s decided to move to California because,

I need to meet my grandbaby Steve, no arguments.

He’d cried over the video chat with her when that had happened.

And,

He talks to them all probably a little to much, and fills up his life with pictures of his favorite person in the entire world, he 100% certain that all of the photographs he’s sent them have found their way into Joyce’s collection, and he knows that Dustin carries one in his wallet with him everywhere.

It’s sweet and he still cries when he thinks about it for to long that they all care about them so much.

He loves them.

As his daughter had grown into the 6-month-old that she is now he thinks, things weren’t always easy. Sure, Robin and he had the money to support another person. Hell, he still and would probably always have access to his parent’s money, and then he’d gotten the job at the elementary school,

Which doesn’t make him that much.

But,

When he’d first brought her home, he was awake all the time. His beautiful daughter was to happy to stay asleep, and not miss even a little bit of the new world that she was brand new too.

Being a single father made him realize that things were going to be hard.

He thanks anyone who’s listening that he couldn’t have done it without Robin.

Though he did most of the baby portion of things by himself, she helped whenever he looked like he was going to pass out and cleaned up after them both when he finally got her to go to sleep.

She’d washed bottles, and picked up towels from Steve’s uneven shower schedule, graded some of his little assignments he gave to his kindergarteners, and helped him do lesson plans over the ones she already was doing for her own students,

“Surprisingly yours gets harder than mine, at least my students can read, most of the time.”

He’d laughed.

She smiled at him for the first time at 4 in the morning with her bright green eyes on him fully after she’d given him an impressive burp, and that was the day he realized that she looked just like him.

At the 3-month mark, she finally started to sleep through most nights, and the bags under Steve’s eyes were staring to lessen their prominent color of deep grey and he looked more like an actual person when he showed up to work when she hit 4 months old.

Then she started laughing and screaming about everything and nothing all at once. The new noises in his life was so adorable. It was easier to leave her to her own devices while he cooked or cleaned up after his class full of 5-year-olds, because she was able to make her presence known to him from an entire other room.

He started doing his hair again after that and got into the hang of getting the spit up stains out of his sweaters and polos after he fed her in the mornings, he should probably feed her in his pajamas.

She’s still so curious about everything at 6 months old. She rolls over at any given chance she gets. She sits up mostly by herself, and grabs things with such force that Steve pulls his hair back when he has her in his arms at all times now.

She doesn’t want to miss anything and needs to be sat up almost all the time now, and since his mother sent him so many things, he’s able to give her anything that will make her happy, and her happiness right now and watching the space around her, and the lights of the toys that she doesn’t really understand how to play with yet, but wont let him take them away because not hearing or seeing them would be a travesty.

Recently she has started teething, not much but he feels so bad, and she screams if something isn’t in her mouth now, but god he wouldn’t change a thing.

He is walking through the grocery store with Stephanie strapped to the front of him in her carrier facing the world because she’d scream otherwise when he hears his name being called by an excited little voice at the other end of the cereal aisle.

He turns to the sound and Isaac Hargrove is running towards him at full force. He vaguely hears another voice calling the little boys name but he’s to worried about the kid knocking him over to really care about that at the moment.

“Mr. H!” Isaac yells as he makes contact with his left leg, and Steve lets out a small laugh and a small ‘ooof’ and wraps his hand around his daughter’s torso to keep her from being jostled, because then she’ll cry at the inconvenience.

She really is almost all him.

Isaac has only been in his class for a couple of weeks now, but the kid has taken a shine to learn quickly and get along with the rest of the class, and Steve was happy about his easy transition.

He and Billy have spoken a couple of times after school lets out, but usually its just a wave goodbye, and then as they leave Steve stares at Billy’s ass when he walks to his car,

No one has to know about that.

There’s no animosity between them during these exchanges, and Steve’s sure some of that has to do with the fact that he’s leaving his child with Steve 5 days out of the week for almost 8 hours each time. Other than that, Steve’s not to worried about talking about their past anymore, he can’t bring himself to care about things that they will probably need to discuss to really move forward, but for now he can deal with just staring at him like a weirdo.

“Isaac!” Billy’s voice filters through his brains as Stephanie lets out an excited screech when Steve brushes past her little toes to reach down and steady the curly headed child at his feet.

Isaac doesn’t look like he even cares he just ran from wherever they were to get to Steve, and he yells, “Daddy look! I found Mr. H!”

Billy’s eyes are wide at the edge of the aisle before he starts walking towards the three of them, and directly speaks to Isaac,

“You cannot just run away like that kid.” And scoops him from his place on the ground with practiced ease and brings his eyes back to Steves.

“But Mr. H is here!” the boy argues, and Steve stifles a laugh, finally removing his arm from Stephanie to let her dangle comfortably once more and thankfully she only makes a small noise in anger before choosing to take her attention back to shoving her fist in her mouth.

“Your dad’s right Isaac.” Steve states getting the boys attention, and wide blue eyes stare back at him, and he gives him a small smile, “But.” He states putting his glasses up onto his nose, “I am very happy to see you.”

Isaac’s grin is wide and happy and Steve smiles, and brings himself to look back at the matching eyes of the kids’ father who’s looking at him with an expression that Steve can’t really identify,

“Billy.” He greets finally, and tries not to stare to hard at the motion of Billy’s throat as he swallows before he replies,

“Steve.” And gives Steve a small smile

They stare at one another for a moment before he lets Isaac back down onto the floor and the boy exclaims,

“Is that your baby Mr. H!!?”

And Steve can’t help the grin that profoundly takes over his face, “Yes, this is Stephanie.”

“Hi Stephanie!” Isaac waves, and like she can actually respond yells back at him with her normal level of force that Steve chuckles.

“She isn’t big enough to talk yet bud, still a baby.” Steve tells the boy.

Isaac nods seriously at his words and Billy’s voice interrupts,

“How old is she?”

Steve looks back up at him and hears the slight strain, but awe look in his face as he stares at his daughter.

She’s adorable, and they all know it.

“6 months.” Steve tells him happily, “getting bigger every day, Robin? Do you remember Robin?” Billy nods, “She keeps telling me that she’s getting to big to fast, and I can’t help but agree.” Pride bleeds into his voice, and he ignores the sadness that she really is getting bigger every day.

“She’s adorable.” Billy says with a slightly sad expression that makes Steve scrunch his face. He attentively reaches out his hand and she grabs onto his finger with what Steve knows is a strong hold,

“Isn’t she?” he starts, “Careful though, she may cut off circulation. She’s got a monster grip.” He gestures to his tied-up hair, “I would know.”

Billy laughs quietly, seemingly trying not to startle her, “That’s okay.”

Steve swears that he’s going to melt in the middle of the cereal aisle at the soft look on Billy’s face directed completely at his daughter who’s probably on the verge of smacking Billy in the face if he gets any closer to her.

If Steve’s crush had dwindled at any point, its back with complete full force right at this moment. He’s trying really hard not to just blurt out that he wants to go on a date with Billy, right here, in front of their children, for fuck’s sake, all because he’s continuing to grasp his daughters attention, making noises at her, which she gleefully screams back at him,

“She looks just like you.” Billy tells him, “Her eyes might be green, but damn they are huge.”

Steve’s brain short circuits a bit. Because that could be taken as an insult, but it didn’t sound like one, not in any way did it sound like an insult, not with the tone of voice Billy used. Steve blinks owlishly which makes Billy chuckle and murmur to himself,

“Exactly the same.”

His phone rings before he gets to process that fully and he reaches to grab it quickly before his daughter gets offended at the sudden noise and he answers it,

“Hello?”

“Don’t forget to get cat food Dingus, your cat won’t shut the fuck up.” Robins voice filters through, and the way Billy’s face morphs into hilarity he knows that he’s heard her.

“Jesus, I won’t forget Rob, I have a list.”

She hangs up without saying anything else and Steve must look super offended right now because Billy says,

“Don’t look at your phone like that Stevie, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Steve gawks and Billy continues, “So Robin lives with you then?”

He nods in response, “She’s been the best help, Steph loves her. Made things a lot easier for me.”

Billy gets a weird look on his face, “You’re by yourself?”

Steve ignores the pang of loneliness in his gut, “Yep.” He states popping the p, “Avery, her mom wasn’t ready, and I was a guess, she’s all mine.” And gazes lovingly down at his daughter where she’s currently now trying to put Billy’s finger in her mouth.

Billy’s face does a slew of emotions before it settles, and he shrugs, “I’ve only had full custody of Isaac for a couple of years, but I can relate to the feeling. After, Heather and her girlfriend passed away, I would’ve never said no.”

Steve shoots him a small sad smile, the feeling of his heart beating in his throat underneath his words, “Wouldn’t give it up for anything.”

“Yeah.” He sits his free hand onto the back of Isaac’s neck causing the boy to beam, “Me either.”

#steve harrington #Teacher Steve Harrington #teacher au #Billy Hargrove #dad!steve harrington #dad!Billy Hargrove #billy with short hair #steve wears glasses #oc children #harringrove

61 notes · View notes

hopeless-island · 4 years

Text

Dying Dream Cast Directory

A helpful guide to remind you about the main crew of the Hopeless Pirates and their basic info stuffs. Keep in mind, names are done the Japanese way. So, Last name/middle initial/ first name

Also, there are spoilers in here for all people who are not caught up with the story. Read at your own risk.

Captain:

Gol D. Maven

Nickname/known as: Maven/ Usurper Maven/ “Momma Maven”/ Big Sis Maven

Age: 20 (at the beginning of Canon)

Disease: Usurper’s Syndrome. A terminal illness that is continual, and progressively aggressive, muscle degradation. Combats this disease by building muscle faster than it can degrade, leading to painfully slow increase in strength and low muscle mass on her body.

Appearance: Like a gender-swapped Ace essentially. Small chest, much wider waist than typical for OP characters. Clearly defined abs, lithe but defined muscles on arms and legs. She is not thickly built, her disease keeping her from being “bulky” and making her body remain rather lanky despite the strength on it. About 6′1″, long wavy black hair that goes down to her butt and is extremely wild and untamed. Freckles on her face that add a slight childish appearance to her face, and sleepy looking gray eyes. Always carries Stormfall, a large battle axe/halberd with a purple metal butterfly-winged blade. Stormfall is over six and a half feet tall, so the blade is always poking above Maven’s head a bit.

First Mate:

Nymph Katylan

Nickname/Known as: Katie/ Dark Nymph Katylan

Age: two years younger than Maven.

Disease: Unnamed terminal immunodeficiency, alluded to being like AIDS.

Appearance: Stereotypical blond rich-girl appearance. Classic OP-girl physique, with large bust and small waist. Straight gold-blond hair that falls a few inches past her shoulders, and large sapphire-blue eyes. Commonly wears light colored sundresses with exercise shorts underneath just incase she fights, so there is never an indecent moment. She is also the Helmsman and Archer for the crew, and uses an ivory-white recurve bow made by Kilik.The center of the bow can change lengths, controlling the strength and range of the bow. Average female height of about 5′7″

Navigator (Original):

Linral

Nickname/Known as: Rabid Linral/ Lin

Age: 18 at death

Disease: Unnamed cancer, alluded to being more than just one type as it is “everywhere.”

Appearance: Short tomboy, but with classic OP-girl body. She had short silver-white hair cut in a boyish pixie cut, and bright emerald-green eyes that she took pride in. Her body was littered with small scars, though not so many as to keep guys from blatantly trying to flirt with her. As stated earlier, she was very short-- just barely over five feet tall. Primarily a brawler, she had slightly more defined muscles than even Maven, considering Lin’s own disease didn't effect her muscle mass. Usually wore boy’s sports shorts and a grey or black tank top.

Weaponsmith (Original):

Kilik

Nickname/Known as: Kilik/ (I couldn’t remember/find his pirate name, so I made a new one up) Killing Steel Kilik

Age: 21 at death

Disease: Due to being unwillingly experimented on, his body developed the ability to produce its own organic poison straight into his own bloodstream. It never stopped his production, and production sped up over time. Too high of a concentration, and it would be fatal.

Appearance: About 5′10″, with fluffy cinnamon-brown hair that is on the long side, almost brushing his shoulders, and chocolate brown eyes. He is somewhat lanky, not muscular but with his own brand of lithe strength. Overall boyish, with most of his muscle mass being centered in his arms without being bulky, because of his occupation as a blacksmith. Also a swordsman. Known for creating a bunch of really wacky, weirdly-designed “swords” and other weapons in an attempt to find his own unique sword style. He finally did, after making round “swords” in the shape of clocks. Usually wore a simple black or mustard-yellow t-shirt and dark jeans with brown or denim overalls.

Doctor:

Razdall

Nickname/Known as: Raz/ Misery’s Herbalist Razdall

Age: 24 at the start of Canon

Disease: Unnamed heart condition, makes him extremely susceptible to spikes in blood pressure and heart rate. Weak heart.

Appearance: About 6′0, with short but messy purple hair. Gray eyes the same shade as Maven’s, but instead of having narrow eyes like she does his just look perpetually bored. His body is pretty lanky, and since he isn’t a fighter he doesn’t have much muscle mass at all. he has a slight, perpetual slouch and usually wears a black or dark purple turtleneck with black, slightly baggy pants and a lab coat with the Hopeless Pirate jolly roger on the back. Never seen without a utility belt laden with different pouches, orbs, and syringes full of his battle-ready herbal concoctions.

Seamstress:

Yalla

Nickname/Known as: Yalla/ Pretty Ninja Yalla (at least I think that’s what I went with as her pirate name... I can’t remember/ find it >.<)

Age: 15 at the start of Canon

Disease: Assassin’s syndrome. Similar to Usurper’s, but instead of muscle it is a constant degradation of organs in the body.

Appearance: A cutsey girly-girl, she has bubblegum-pink hair and bright golden yellow eyes. Originally she wore her hair up in constant long pigtails, but she started to wear it down after Kilik’s death. It reaches her knees when left down. She usually wears a frilly pink, gold, and black kimono that is cropped around the knee with sunflower-yellow boy shorts underneath incase any incidents occur. The kimono has three-quarter sleeves instead of the traditional long sleeves. She pairs it with flip-flops or goes barefoot. Still growing, she is relatively short at about 5′4″. She ate the Ribbon-Ribbon fruit and grew up as an acrobat in a circus, so she is not only very nimble and usually fights aerially, but she can turn her body into ribbons.

Shipwright:

Gino

Nickname/Known as: Gino/ Black Thorn Gino

Age: mid-thirties by Canon

Disease: Akui Hanahaki. Like the Hanahaki in other stories, this disease grows flowers in and off of the victim’s lungs, causing them to hack up flowers and leaves from it as the disease progresses. Unlike the normal mythical disease, this one is caused by hatred from a loved one rather than unrequited love. The only cure is being forgiven, but the person whose hatred caused Gino’ s illness is dead so it is officially terminal for him. He coughs up black roses.

Appearance: A large tiger-shark fishman, he clocks in at about 7′7″ and has greyish-blue skin with subtle grey stripes down his back and the back of his bald head, and partially over his shoulders and the back of his upper arms. Usually wears a black or dark grey tank top and black cargo pants or cargo shorts. He fights with spiked iron knuckles, and (spoiler alert) gets them upgraded to Seastone spiked knuckles after the Magician arc. He is very bulky, unlike the majority of the crew. Classic body of a thug/body builder type, with bulging biceps, very well-muscled chest/torso, and several tattoos.

Dancer:

Synalla

Nickname/Known as: Synalla/ “Crew Grandma”/ Slice-Dancer Synalla

Age: Late twenties by Canon. About 28 or 29..?

Disease: Unnamed lung disease. Fashioned a bit after Cystic Fibrosis, but obviously made into a fantasy terminal illness.

Appearance: She is a Snakeneck, and from her feet to the top of her head she is about 11′4″, with her neck by itself taking up almost half of that. Her body, like with most Snakenecks, is naturally lithe and lanky. Her hair is jet black, and goes down the entirety of her over-four-foot neck in sharp zig-zags that for some reason never lose shape. She dresses like a tango dancer almost constantly, in long brightly colored Mexican-styled dresses that end at her ankle and matching flats. She fights with tessen, or bladed war fans. She dances with them, too. She is naturally maternal and tends to mother hen, earning herself the nickname “Granny” or “Grandma” within the crew.

Scout/ Navigator (new):

Cala

Nickname/Known as: Cala/ Lynx Cala

Age: about 26 by the start of Canon

Disease: Nature’s wrath syndrome, another disease similar to Usurper’s and Assassin’s syndrome. This version is constant degradation of the bones and severe calcium deficiency/the body burns through calcium at a really fast rate.

Appearance: Is it even a surprise by now? Cala is lanky, as apparently most of the rest of the crew omfg where is my originality at? But to the point of being almost bony. He has very short-cropped blue hair, buzzed but not shaved. He ate the cat-cat model: Lynx fruit, and can change into a lynx. He is incredibly frail because of his disease and tends to stay out of fights unless absolutely necessary (I have bones of glass, and paper skin...) But he makes an excellent scout and spy with his enhanced senses from his Zoan fruit. He, uh. honestly I haven’t put much thought into his wardobe. He’s a bony cat dude. Probably wears long blue basketball shorts and goes shirtless half the time honestly, idk.

Crew Hypnotist..? I honestly don't know this guy’s role, I think he’s just a combatant/ bums out on the Dream honestly.

Dyan

Nickname/Known as: Dyan/ King Dyan/ Deranged Prince Dyan (Pirate nickname)

Age: idk if I put a solid age for him, but he’d be about 40 by the start of Canon

Disease: Similar to Kilik, Dyan’s blood itself is mutating and becoming toxic to itself. There is no known cure.

Appearance: He ate the child-child fruit, so he looks to be about 10 years old instead of his true age. He has spiky dark green hair, and is about 4′3″. He has a child’s body, so no real visible muscle mass or anything. He did used to be the King of the Ceres kingdom though, so he is constantly dressed in high quality clothes and somehow always looks like a stereotypical child prince/ rich brat. His devil fruit hypnotizes people along with making him stay in a child’s body, but you can read more about his devil fruit in the story itself.

Magician

Azalea

Nickname/Known as: Azalea/ Scarlet Magician Azalea

Age: I don’t remember if I gave her an exact age, but we’ll say 23 by Canon

Disease: Cancer (sound familiar? (;) Cured by Trafalgar Law.

Appearance: about 5′9″, with bright, vibrant red hair in an asymmetrical pixie cut that she is just now beginning to grow out. Classic OP-girl body, but with muscular legs that most people seem to not notice. She is a magician, and as such is always wearing a maroon suit jacket, black slacks, and a bowtie. She has a flair for the dramatic. whatever she wears, she is always stylish. She does, in fact, have a magic wand that she uses occasionally. sporty-cute-girl. OH yeah, she has the feel-feel fruit and can sense everyone’s emotions and shit

I think that’s it for the Dying Dream crew. Whoo that took a while. There ya go!

9 notes · View notes